> The Shape of a Question
>  by Astrarian
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1. Between the Lines
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sweetie Belle, I do so enjoy your company, but… is something troubling you?”

Sweetie Belle’s magic sputtered and the roll of fabric which she was moving across the room quivered mid-air. Her tongue poked out of her mouth as she concentrated on not causing an accident. Once the fabric was safely stacked on its shelf alongside all of the other rolls of fabric, she said nervously, “No, of course not. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Rarity was looking at her over the top of her glasses. “Are you sure, darling? You can tell me if there is, you know.” She smiled kindly. “Perhaps I can help you. After all, you’ve been so helpful with my dresses over the past few days.”

Sweetie Belle looked at the floor briefly, blushing and smiling.

“I am absolutely certain I couldn’t have finished all of these magnificent outfits for Hoity Toity without you,” Rarity continued.

Rarity had accepted Sweetie Belle’s offer to help for the week with caution. Sweetie’s tendency to fall over her hooves and knock everything in the room akimbo was hardly desirable when Rarity was on a tight schedule. So Rarity couldn’t have been more pleased to learn that Sweetie Belle’s budding magic reduced her accidental clumsiness rather than increasing it. Pleased as punch, Pinkie Pie might say.

“Your magic is really coming along in leaps and bounds. I must thank Twilight for helping you. Thank Twilight…”

Perhaps Rarity could make Twilight a new dress. Although there were no upcoming royal events that Rarity could think of. Well, what did it matter? Being in style shouldn’t be restricted merely to important social gatherings and Twilight was certain to have need of a new dress soon enough. Rarity could envisage aspects of the design already: ruffles highlighted by sequins, tiny silver stars along the seams, culminating in a centre-piece jewel – a rare yellow tourmaline, of course. It would perfectly complement Twilight’s coat. A wonderful idea! 

“Rarity?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Rarity sighed with delight. Then she shook her head to clear her creative vision. As she focused on Sweetie Belle again, she used her magic to flip to a blank page in her design pad. “Well, I’m just saying that I would be very happy to repay all of your hard work by helping you to solve whatever problem is upsetting you,” Rarity elaborated.

She had another repayment in mind too – however, it was a surprise and hence not something to be mentioned right now. She’d designed a new dress for Sweetie Belle, something dazzling that would impress her school friends. Truthfully, making the gift had added some pressure to Rarity’s workload throughout the day for she was only able to work on the dress once Sweetie Belle had gone home each evening. But she didn’t regret the decision one bit. 

“I’m not upset,” Sweetie Belle reiterated.

“Sweetie, I fear you are not quite yourself.” Sweetie Belle hadn’t mentioned her quest for her cutie mark all week. She hadn’t shown any sign of wanting a favour for helping Rarity all week. And she hadn’t sung sweetly under her breath while working, a habit of hers which Rarity enjoyed.

Rarity got off her work-stool. Immediately – perhaps consequently – Sweetie Belle turned the focus of her magic to an unravelled roll of ribbon on the floor. Concerned, Rarity was about to speak again when the bell above the front door of the boutique rang.

“I’ll go and see who it is!” Sweetie Belle announced, galloping out of the workroom.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were trotting towards the back stairs when Sweetie Belle tumbled through the doorway into the main shop. “Hi, Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom greeted. 

Sweetie Belle skidded to a halt, ears flattening against her head briefly. “Oh, hi, you two,” she said. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Apple Bloom’s finished her chores for the day, and I’ve finished practising my latest trick,” Scootaloo said, momentarily hovering off the floor as she flourished her wings. “So do you wanna do some crusading?”

“Twilight’s bound to wanna rearrange all the books in her library,” Apple Bloom explained. “But since the castle is so much bigger than the old library—” Apple Bloom looked momentarily sad— “she’s gonna need some help, sure as Celestia made little green apples.”

“Princess Celestia didn’t make little green apples,” Scootaloo said as though Apple Bloom had been overcome by temporary madness. “They grow on the trees in your orchard.”

Apple Bloom frowned at her. “Our apples are red.”

“Same difference,” Scootaloo said. She turned her attention back to Sweetie Belle. “Anyway, we’ll get our cutie marks as librarians.” In unison with Apple Bloom, Scootaloo cried, “Royal castle librarians!”

They high-hooved one another triumphantly and grinned at Sweetie Belle.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Sweetie Belle said. “But, um, Rarity still needs lots of help with her big order for Hoity Toity.”

“You’ve been helping her ever since we got back from Appleoosa,” Apple Bloom said morosely. “We’ve hardly seen ya all week. Can’t you crusade for one afternoon?”

“Or we can help you,” Scootaloo proposed brightly. Her past disdain for all things ‘namby pamby’ – including fashion – had mellowed significantly. “If the order’s taking this long you could use some more hooves, right?” She was willing to do whatever was necessary to get Sweetie Belle out of the boutique and back into the wide, exciting (and just a little bit scary; not that she would ever admit so to anyone except Princess Luna, of course!) realm of Equestria.

“I don’t know if Rarity would like that. Maybe I can just come and find you once we’ve finished,” Sweetie Belle suggested.

“I wouldn’t like what?” Rarity asked as she stepped off the final stair. “Why, hello, girls. It’s so lovely to see you both.”

“Hi Rarity,” Scootaloo and Apple Bloom chorused.

“Sweetie Belle was just telling us about your order for Hoity Toity,” Apple Bloom said. Her accented enunciation of the fashion critic’s name made him sound even more ridiculous.

“We thought we could help you finish the dresses so Sweetie Belle can come crusading with us,” Scootaloo said.

Rarity laughed, hoping that no hint of the negativity such a proposal stirred was audible. “Oh, thank you so much for the offer, but we actually just completed the final touches, so there’s no need.” Thank Celestia. “As a matter of fact, I simply need to tidy up and package the dresses for delivery, which is no trouble at all. Thank you ever so much for your help, Sweetie Belle, but I have no desire to keep you from your friends any longer.” Hopefully an afternoon of crusading for her cutie mark would cheer Sweetie Belle up.

As Rarity leaned down to hug her sister in gratitude, Sweetie Belle interrupted her. “Don’t you need help planning Twilight’s dress?” she asked. By turning to face Rarity, she presented her back to her fellow Crusaders. “I’d really like to say thank you as well. It’s my magic she helped with.”

“Oh—an interesting idea— I suppose—but, Sweetie Belle, however did you know I was planning to make Twilight a dress to show my appreciation?”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo giggled in the background as Sweetie Belle smiled up at her. “Oh, Rarity. You are my sister.”

“Ah. Well. Yes.” Rarity cleared her throat. She was ready to politely refuse the offer, at least until later in the week if Sweetie Belle absolutely insisted, and then she noticed Sweetie Belle biting her bottom lip anxiously. 

Rarity was a designer at heart and while Sweetie Belle had more flair for fashion than somepony like Applejack (Rarity chuckled inwardly at the memory of the horrific dresses Applejack had made when afflicted with Rarity’s cutie mark), she was hardly a nascent fashionista. So Rarity would have expected her younger sister to direct big, shimmering eyes in her direction in order to convince Rarity to let her help, tapping the guilt and affection in Rarity’s heart as effectively as Rarity herself could find gemstones hidden in the ground. Sweetie Belle’s evident agitation contradicted this expectation, and thus unnerved Rarity.

“Please, Rarity,” Sweetie Belle begged. “I know I’m not as good a designer as you, no-pony is, but I’d really like it if we could, um, collaborate.” Otherwise Rarity would make the entire dress before Sweetie Belle could even contribute an idea, let alone have that idea refined into something more aesthetically pleasing.

Simultaneously flattered and perturbed, Rarity said, “Well, that does sound lovely, darling. But wouldn’t you like to spend the afternoon searching for your cutie mark?”

“No!” Sweetie Belle said desperately. Over Sweetie Belle’s withers, Rarity saw Apple Bloom and Scootaloo’s faces fall.

Standing in front of Sweetie Belle gave Rarity ample opportunity to watch her sister’s eyes widen, expression shifting between guilt and fear. Was Sweetie Belle… avoiding Apple Bloom and Scootaloo? Surely not. Yet no other explanation sprang to Rarity’s mind.

“I really want to say thanks to Twilight,” Sweetie Belle said, turning to her two friends. “She’s helped me so much with my magic. I couldn’t have done everything I did this week without her. And I couldn’t have helped Trouble Shoes get out of j—um—you know, when we got him out of that place he shouldn’t have been in. I couldn’t have done that if Twilight hadn’t been teaching me.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo glanced at one another.

“And if Rarity starts planning the dress today, without me, well, that’s not very collaborative.” Sweetie Belle grinned a little too widely at Rarity, tail twitching nervously.

Rarity had indeed intended to plan Twilight’s dress that afternoon. Given Sweetie Belle’s strong feelings on the subject, however, she could always do something else. Or leave the boutique if it was proving terribly difficult to keep her creative urge in check.

“I can wait until tomorrow to begin the design process,” she said.

“But I want to do it,” Sweetie Belle said. “You understand, don’t you? And so do Apple Bloom and Scoot?” She smiled disarmingly at each pony in the room.

“Well, if you feel it’s that important…” Rarity began, trailing off when Apple Bloom glared at her. The amount of rancour made Rarity feel even more uncomfortable. As though it was a crime to want to immediately act upon one’s inspiration! Rarity frowned.

Scootaloo smiled at Sweetie Belle. “That’s cool. If it’s what you want to do, you should go for it. Maybe you’ll get a cutie mark in collaborating.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, maybe we can too!”

Rarity was afraid she was going to ask to help with Twilight’s dress. Although that had the potential to shed some light on Sweetie Belle’s behaviour she feared it would drive her sister to unknown lengths.

Instead, Scootaloo turned to Apple Bloom and said enthusiastically, “Come on, let’s go and collaborate!” She started pulling Apple Bloom towards the front door of the boutique.

Scootaloo’s fervour was undeniable. Apple Bloom’s disbelieving frown slowly cleared. “Okay… See you later, Sweetie Belle,” she said hesitantly. “Hope you design a real nice dress for Twilight.”

“Yeah, show it to us later! Bye, Sweetie Belle!” Scootaloo shouted in exuberant farewell.

The two fillies exited the boutique. Rarity quashed her fiercest frown, settling for a less intense expression. “I would like you to tell me what that was all about, and I’d like you to tell me now,” she said firmly.

“But I had such a good idea for Twilight’s dress,” Sweetie Belle replied. “What if you used some of your rubies to make a picture of her cutie mark on her dress, so ponies can see her special talent even though they can’t see her flank?”

“Twilight’s cutie mark is pink, and I don’t have any pink rubies right now. Now, I think the fabric should be chartreuse, and the centre-piece an amethyst to bring the outfit togeth—” Rarity suddenly shook her head rapidly and resolutely. “Oh, Sweetie Belle! You’re trying to distract me. Well, it shall not work!” She stamped her hoof. “I will not be side-tracked!”

Startled by Rarity’s outburst, Sweetie Belle took a few steps backwards. To Rarity’s dismay, uncharacteristic tears filled her sister’s eyes. Sweetie Belle was more than capable of enduring Rarity’s dramatic outpourings, even matching them. Their previous arguments had proved that. Something was terribly wrong.

“Sweetie, I’m very sorry,” Rarity said gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you. But it sounds like you’re lying to me, and that hurts. It’s hurting both of us,” she added as a tear fell from Sweetie Belle’s cheek and splashed onto the floor audibly.

“You shouldn’t do something that you don’t want to do in order to avoid something else.” Rarity worriedly tugged Sweetie Belle into a hug. “Won’t you please tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can,” Sweetie Belle said dejectedly.







The sun was shining brightly outside the boutique and Scootaloo’s exuberant mood suited the weather to a tee. Crusading in such nice spring weather would be so awesome, especially since the weather ponies had scheduled rain for the following day. They could ask to rearrange Twilight’s library then, saving themselves from getting wet while potentially earning their cutie marks. Perfect!

“Where shall we start?” Scootaloo asked Apple Bloom eagerly. She put her helmet on and dragged her scooter onto the path that led to the boutique’s front door. “I know. What about the Everfree Forest? We must be able to do some sweet collaborating in there!”

“I don’t even know what collaboratin’ is,” Apple Bloom complained.

“You don’t? Me neither.” However, Scootaloo’s zeal was unimpeded by this realisation. “We need a dictionary. Let’s go talk to Twilight!” Without further ado she leaped onto her scooter and zipped away towards Twilight’s castle on the outskirts of the town, rapidly disappearing into the distance.

Apple Bloom looked glumly over her shoulder at Carousel Boutique. They shouldn’t need a dictionary because Sweetie Belle should be outside crusading with herself and Scootaloo. Not like she and Scootaloo were stupid, but Sweetie Belle knew a lot more fancy words than they did.

Apple Bloom huffed thoughtfully. It wasn’t like Sweetie Belle to decline an afternoon of crusading. Since when would she rather design a dress than quest for her cutie mark, especially since their past experiences with the school talent show and the special play she’d written had shown that costume design wasn’t her special talent?

It could be that she didn’t feel well. If that was the case though, why wouldn’t she just say so?

She’d been quite reluctant to go crusading in Appleoosa too…

Sweetie Belle’s behaviour didn’t make a lick of sense to Apple Bloom, and that made her irate.

“Come on, Apple Bloom!” Scootaloo’s voice rang out across Ponyville.

Apple Bloom vowed to uncover the mystery behind Sweetie Belle’s odd behaviour before following Scootaloo’s summons.







Apple Bloom and Scootaloo didn’t even need to visit the Everfree forest to end up having plenty of fun that afternoon, which was fortunate since they weren’t meant to wander in the forest anyway.

Twilight needed little convincing to rearrange her schedule in order to make re-shelving day the following day, and she also revelled in teaching them what collaboration meant. They helped Spike to create a variant of his classic sapphire-cookie recipe, jumped in unison when one of Pinkie Pie’s hidden confetti cannons went off, and came up with an action-packed method to use to shelve the library books. Finally they let off some steam by racing along the vast corridors, using one banner which fluttered in any breeze as the finish line. Twilight had gotten much better at flying, but she still couldn’t keep up with Scootaloo on wheels. The banner flapped madly when three ponies and one dragon sprinted past.

All of the activity helped ease the heaviness that had settled like a rock in the pit of Apple Bloom’s stomach upon leaving Carousel Boutique.

Twilight also persuaded them to pen an entry in the Journal of Friendship about what they had learned in Appleoosa. The two sat in the castle library in between precariously piled books, pondering how best to express how they had helped Trouble Shoes to realise his true destiny.

In a burst of inspiration, Scootaloo began writing. Spike wandered in holding a bowl that contained their second batch of cookies. Twilight was picking out some new books to study.

“This must be collaborative too,” Apple Bloom said.

“Yes, precisely,” Twilight answered. “I would really like Sweetie Belle to write down what she learned as well. I was wondering why she didn’t come with you this afternoon.”

Scootaloo put down the pen. “She couldn’t come with us,” she started to explain. “She really wanted to help Rarity design a dress for y—”

Apple Bloom pointedly tugged a feather out of Scootaloo’s wing before her friend could finish her sentence. “Hey!” Scootaloo protested, more from surprise than pain, and then comprehended the magnitude of the slip of her tongue. She gave Apple Bloom her best apologetic grin.

“Apple Bloom, that wasn’t very nice,” Twilight chided.

“Naw, it’s fine,” Apple Bloom refuted around the feather in her mouth. Scootaloo nodded and turned her disarming smile on Twilight. “Y’all know want to know something that’s real fun?” Apple Bloom asked, looking at Spike.

Eyes widening warily, Spike shoved the entire cookie that he was eating into his mouth. He remembered the train ride he had taken with the Cutie Mark Crusaders to the Crystal Empire. “Hold on a second,” he said in a spray of cookie crumbs and sapphire shards.

With a wicked smile Apple Bloom advanced on Spike. A future of excruciating sensation loomed. It was too much; Spike immediately dashed away to escape it. Twilight chortled as Apple Bloom galloped in hot pursuit of the dragon. Interesting that a dragon covered in scales could feel pleasure if tickled. There must be a book about the physiological truth of tickling somewhere – perhaps not in her library, although Twilight wasn’t well-versed with its literary contents any longer.

The clattering of Apple Bloom’s hooves resounded in the great room. Even though Twilight spent much of her time in solitary study, and her friends’ efforts had made the castle far more homely nowadays, it seemed she preferred the place when it contained sounds of life. A castle felt properly used when there was more than one pony and one dragon within.

“That didn’t hurt you?” Twilight asked Scootaloo, ruffling her wings sympathetically.

“Nah.” Scootaloo waved her hoof dismissively. “Apple Bloom knows which feathers are okay to take.”

“Really?” Twilight extended one of her wings, studying it with interest. “I assumed it would hurt no matter which feather you pulled out.”

“Nah,” Scootaloo repeated. “I’m too awesome to let losing one little feather bother me.”

Twilight blinked at how reminiscent of Rainbow Dash the words were. It was like she was with them. Then again, in a sense she already was, thanks to the Daring Do posters that watched over the castle library.

Scootaloo returned her attention to the journal until the smooth swoosh of a moving library ladder rapidly approached. Spike had mastered the art of moving quickly on rolling ladders back in the Golden Oak Library, and the large size of the castle library increased its value as a skill. He vaulted off the top of the ladder as it passed by, landing lightly on Apple Bloom’s back as she cantered back in conjunction, and then performed an acrobatic somersault to ultimately land in front of Scootaloo and Twilight.

“Sweet moves!” Scootaloo praised.

“Thank you, I’ll be here all week,” Spike said, bowing ostentatiously. “All year, in fact. Maybe forever.” He scratched his chin with a claw and then picked up his abandoned bowl of cookies. He offered one to Apple Bloom, who accepted happily, nibbling around the sapphire chunks.

“What’s Sweetie Belle designing with Rarity?” he asked. “Her deadline for Hoity Toity was today. The dresses had to be on the one o’clock train to Canterlot.”

Scootaloo gave a nervous chuckle. Apple Bloom clenched her jaw. She’d intended for the tickle-chase to distract both Twilight and Spike. “I guess Rarity must have another order.”

“Huh,” Spike said reflectively. “She didn’t tell me she had any other orders.”

“Maybe it’s something for you!” Scootaloo blurted without thinking. Apple Bloom groaned discreetly.

Spike puffed his chest out proudly. “For me, hm? Well, of course. That makes perfect sense. I am her favourite dragon, after all.”

“You’re everypony’s favourite dragon,” Twilight complimented him. “But it could be anything,” she added sensibly. “Rarity always has so many designs to finish. I’m glad to hear that Sweetie Belle is helping her. It’s so nice when they’re getting along.”

Apple Bloom tilted her head contemplatively. “What do you mean, Twilight?”

“Well, Sweetie Belle and Rarity don’t live together like you and Applejack do, so they’re not able to constantly strengthen their relationship.” Twilight spoke like this deduction was the most logical thing in the Equestria.

“Huh?” the fillies said together, each giving Twilight her best confused face.

The Princess of Friendship turned and looked at them. Her eyebrows lowered thoughtfully; conversely, her eyes sparkled at the prospect of clarifying her point. “Well… Scootaloo, don’t you find that you really value the time you spend with Rainbow Dash?”

“Rainbow’s not my sister,” said Scootaloo, blushing furiously.

Twilight giggled. “I know that.”

“But she’s the pony most like a sister to you, except you and Sweetie Belle, I guess,” Spike said on Twilight’s behalf, and gave Scootaloo a claws-up gesture. “That is pretty awesome,” he said in a sing-song voice. After all, he too was a fan of Rainbow’s awe-inspiring feats.

“I guess,” Scootaloo admitted, unable to conceal her smile. It was just so awesome to almost be the sister of certifiably the coolest pony around: Rainbow Dash. She and Apple Bloom clacked their hooves together triumphantly.

“There can be a lot of pressure for ponies who don’t live together to make the time that they do spend together meaningful,” Twilight said. “When I see my brother, I always want to have the greatest time with him because I don’t see him very often. It was the same when Discord messed up plans for my day with Princess Cadance. And if you don’t necessarily see a pony that often, then any fights that you have feel even worse.”

Scootaloo was nodding in response. Apple Bloom smiled suddenly. This idea made much more sense than Sweetie Belle suddenly hating crusading or not wanting to be friends with them anymore. Apple Bloom knew first-hoof that Sweetie Belle’s sisterhood with Rarity was very important. Sweetie Belle must be glad too when she and Rarity were getting along, since they sometimes fought like cats and dogs. The image of Winona chasing Opalescence came unbidden into Apple Bloom’s mind and she chuckled to herself.

Sweetie Belle shouldn’t have to lie about wanting to spend some more time with Rarity, even though they’d already spent almost a whole week together. It was just a bit hard for Apple Bloom to appreciate, since she never had the chance to doubt that she was better with a sister in her life. Applejack was (barring her overprotectiveness and bossiness) the best big sister a filly could ask for.

“I’m sorry, girls, I didn’t mean to distract you from your journal entry,” Twilight said. She picked up a book with her magic and examined the title before unknown categorising relegated it to one particular pile amongst many particular piles.

“Hey, do you wanna see what I’ve written?” Scootaloo asked Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom took Scootaloo’s place in front of the Journal of Friendship as Scootaloo went off to investigate the prominent shelf of Daring Do books. She’d written in it once before, and read most of the entries trying to learn about the magic of friendship herself - although it turned out experiencing something for oneself was easier to learn from than reading about it.


Dear Diary,
Last week me and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle met a really interesting pony. Trouble Shoes is a bit of a klutz. He thought that was what his cutie mark meant, and he didn’t like it. But he loves the rodeo, so he kept going back even though he was messing things up by accident. Without friends, he couldn’t see that he was looking at his cutie mark the wrong way. 

But we’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders (along with Babs Seed), so we know the real importance of a cutie mark is that it shows everypony who you are and what your talent is! If you can’t see the good things in your talent you can feel like bad luck is following you around. Your friends can help you see that your abilities make you awesome. I’ve learned that lesson myself.

And it turns out Trouble Shoes is the most awesome rodeo clown ever! Even Applejack has never seen a better clown. It feels really nice to know that we made things better for Trouble Shoes. Knowing that we’ve helped somepony understand his cutie mark makes it a lot easier to wait for our own!

Scootaloo


Apple Bloom couldn’t think of a better way to explain what they had learned in Appleoosa. “It’s real good,” she told Scootaloo, picking up the pen to make one addition.


Dear Diary,
Ain’t that the truth!

Apple Bloom


“All done,” she said to Twilight.

“Just a minute,” Twilight replied.

Apple Bloom starting flicking the pages in the journal backwards to see the entries she hadn’t read. A few short ones were preceded by Twilight’s neat scrawl, which mentioned the words ‘cutie mark’ frequently. Apple Bloom turned the page backwards. Twilight’s writing continued unabated on both pages. Cocking her head, Apple Bloom flicked to the previous two pages, which were also filled to the margins with Twilight’s musings.

The name ‘Starlight Glimmer’ was scattered regularly throughout the entry too. This piqued Apple Bloom’s interest because Applejack had mentioned Starlight a couple of times in Apple Bloom’s presence, and not with kindness. The amount of writing about this particular adventure suggested there was a lot more to the tale than Applejack had let on.

Oddly, Twilight had actually titled this entry: Cutie Unmarking.

Apple Bloom’s stomach dropped – and Twilight said, “Thanks for waiting.”

Hurriedly Apple Bloom flicked back to the page she and Scootaloo had written on. Applejack hadn’t said anything about ponies with cutie un-marks in relation to Starlight Glimmer. That could only mean that Applejack didn’t want Apple Bloom to know about it. And that ignited a fire of curiosity in Apple Bloom’s heart.

“Do you mind if I read your entry while you’re here?” Twilight didn’t seem to have noticed Apple Bloom’s rapid page-turning. If she did, she paid no heed.

“Here ya go,” said Apple Bloom, pushing the journal towards Twilight with a hoof. Her mind was awhirl with questions.

What was a cutie unmarking? Was it a cutie mark that wasn’t really a cutie mark? Was it the name for losing one’s cutie mark? Was it a special rite of passage? Did it happen to adult ponies? Would it happen to Granny Smith?

How could ponies be unmarked? All ponies had cutie marks. Even Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had cutie marks. Zecora had a cutie mark, didn’t she? Being a zebra, Apple Bloom wasn’t sure if she was technically a pony or not. Only dragons and griffons didn’t have cutie marks.

Who was Starlight Glimmer actually?

She barely noticed Twilight chuckle in good humour upon reading her entry. However, her spiralling thoughts were successfully interrupted by Twilight saying, “I don’t want you to think I’m kicking you out,” as she started walking out of the library. “But Spike and I do have a couple of housekeeping tasks to be getting on with.”

“Don’t you mean castle-keeping?” Scootaloo asked, joining Apple Bloom. They followed Twilight readily enough, although Apple Bloom spared one longing look at the Journal of Friendship over her shoulder.

“There is more to do here,” Twilight agreed. “We need to change some of the lamps, clean some of the doors, water the flowers and polish the statue in the dining room…”

“Don’t forget that we need to clean up all of the confetti in the kitchen, and I need to polish the doorway to my bedroom,” Spike added. The checklist he held in one claw was already unrolling onto the floor. He’d tucked his bowl of cookies under his arm.

“I know!” Scootaloo cried. “We’ll polish the floor for you!” She leaped into a full gallop, building up speed until she could slide for several feet on her flank along the cool, crystalline floor. “Try it, Apple Bloom,” she called, laughing.

“Heck yeah, okay!” Apple Bloom shouted, forgetting about the strange journal entry for now. She mimicked Scootaloo’s actions. They repeatedly slid along the hall until they reached the main door of the castle. Giggling and panting they tumbled into the outside world. A cooling breeze fanned their manes off their warm foreheads.

Apple Bloom glanced at her flank. Grime and dust had collected in her hair, turning it slightly brown. The shadow of dirt might pass for a cutie mark, if one squinted.

“Cookie for the road?” Spike offered.

“Cool, thanks!”

“Aw, but no thanks, Spike,” Apple Bloom answered. “You enjoy them sapphires.”

“I prefer emeralds,” Scootaloo said drolly. Then she grinned and stuck her tongue out of her mouth. A heap of gleaming blue sapphires was clustered in the middle of her tongue. Spike collected them carefully and then candidly tossed them above his head. Quick as a flash his tongue whipped out, catching the gemstones as they fell back through the air. Audible crunching followed.

Twilight cringed at the display. The other three chortled.

Scootaloo grabbed her helmet and scooter. “Thanks for teaching us what collaboration means, Twilight,” she said.

“It was my pleasure. See you tomorrow, girls,” Twilight called as Scootaloo and Apple Bloom trotted away from the castle.

Spike waved at them from the threshold. “Thanks for your help with my cookies!”

“No problem!” Apple Bloom assured him. She waited until she heard the castle door close with an unmistakable bang.

“Scoot, I hafta tell you something!” she said urgently.

> 2. Meanings of Silence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Business unfortunately came first during a week like this. Rarity’s desire to immediately make Sweetie Belle open up was simply untenable until she had delivered the dresses for Hoity Toity to the train station. Normally Rarity would accompany her product to the capital despite Hoity Toity’s hoof-picked security escort for her dresses, but she was worried about her sister (and quite tired after the long working hours of her week).

She allowed Sweetie Belle to help her package the order because it seemed to make her feel better. The task took a surprising amount of time even with Rarity’s proficient use of packing tape. She arrived on the platform with only seconds to spare, and felt obliged to offer the train guard a gratuity. The train still ended up leaving a couple of minutes late.

Once she returned, she closed the boutique to ensure they would not be disturbed. Now they sat in the workroom on Rarity’s fainting couch.

“He thought bad luck was his special talent,” Sweetie Belle said, “and even though it wasn’t, he thought it was for so long that everypony else thought he was a dangerous criminal. Even me.”

It wasn’t that Sweetie Belle was talking nonsense. It was simply that Rarity was struggling to understand precisely why her experience in Appleoosa had ultimately resulted in such despondency. By all accounts the Cutie Mark Crusaders - which Rarity still thought was a darling little nickname - had improved another pony’s life, and been glad to do so. It was an uplifting story.

“You helped Mister Trouble Shoes to understand the true meaning of his cutie mark, did you not?” Rarity questioned. “That it is not the mark that makes the mare, but the mare that makes the mark,” she proclaimed grandly, drawing her hoof through the air pointedly. Then she cleared her throat. “So to speak.”

“Yes,” Sweetie Belle agreed ardently, “but everypony always said I was scared over nothing, not that a pony really can hate their cutie mark for their entire life!” Her voice squeaked as she emphasised the final words.

“There’s no need for you to be afraid of that, Sweetie Belle. That will not happen to you. Everypony will help you to ensure that you do interpret your cutie mark correctly, when the time comes. It sounds to me like your friend Trouble Shoes was just unlucky.”

“I told you bad luck isn’t his special talent,” Sweetie Belle insisted. “It’s being in rodeos, making ponies laugh.”

Rarity rubbed a hoof across her jaw. “I didn’t mean that I don’t believe you. I mean that by simple misfortune, which was not your friend’s fault, he had no-pony to help him see what his special talent really was. Why, I feel awfully sorry for him,” she murmured sympathetically. “I can understand his plight, since you say his cutie mark appeared when he was performing with a lasso.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes grew wide. She leaped forward off the couch onto all four hooves, tail swishing anxiously. “So it could happen to me? It was a totally understandable mistake that could happen to any pony?”

“No, Sweetie,” Rarity said quickly. “As I said, it won’t happen to you. And I’m so proud that you managed to help him see what his cutie mark really meant. You should really try to concentrate on that.”

“It could happen to me,” Sweetie Belle wailed. “What if we were wrong? What if he was only happy because no-pony was calling him a criminal anymore? His cutie mark is an upside-down horse shoe. That could mean anything!”

The sonic rainboom that cracked open the rock to which Rarity had been dragged by her unicorn magic as a filly had been bursting with gemstones. If she had received her cutie mark before realising she could use the gems to improve her costumes, could she have ended up in an unhappy life, believing that her special talent was locating diamonds or - perish the thought  - rock-farming?

Trouble Shoes’s incorrect conclusion was well understandable. Rarity too would have immediately assumed that his cutie mark symbolised bad luck. But if a pony couldn’t think of anything helpful to say, they shouldn’t say anything at all. Under duress Rarity might admit that she was not perfect at obeying that adage. However, it was vital not to say anything that would worry Sweetie Belle further, so she chose to say nothing that related to Trouble Shoes’s cutie mark.

“Do calm down, dear. You said he was genuinely happy,” she pointed out.

Sweetie Belle returned to the couch. “He seemed to be,” she said hesitantly. “He said it felt like what he was supposed to be doing.”

“There,” Rarity said with satisfaction. “You did help him, and it’s as simple as that. If he’s happy, then I too am happy, and you should be too. Though I must add, I would be dreadfully unhappy if it was my destiny to be a rodeo clown. I’ve never found clowns funny.”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “Have you seen a rodeo clown? Have you ever even been to a rodeo?”

“I’ve seen Applejack practising her ‘moves’,” Rarity said defensively.

Sweetie Belle giggled quietly. “That doesn’t count, Rarity.”

“I think if I’m friends with the number one–what was it, a hay bale arranger?–Regardless, I hardly need to visit an actual rodeo.”

Sweetie Belle giggled again.

Having mentioned Applejack, Rarity noted that she must arrange to see her friend in the near future. Completing Hoity Toity’s order hadn’t left her an opportunity to congratulate Applejack on her winning routine.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to hear the entire story about Appleoosa again, either. Applejack had given her a quick rundown, and so had her parents, but her workload meant she’d paid less attention than she probably should have.

Thinking of Applejack reminded Rarity of Apple Bloom, bringing her back to the real topic at hoof. “I see now why you were upset about Trouble Shoes, Sweetie Belle, but that does not explain why you didn’t want to spend the afternoon with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.”

“Oh. That.” Sadness clouded Sweetie Belle’s green eyes. “Was it that obvious?”

When no explanation was forthcoming, Rarity voiced her suspicion slowly. “Did you want to help me design a dress for Twilight so that you wouldn’t have to see your friends?”

Sweetie Belle hung her head.

“Why would you not want to see them?” Rarity asked, shocked and saddened.

“I just don’t want to go crusading right now,” Sweetie Belle said quietly.

“You did have quite an adventure,” Rarity acknowledged. “Why don’t you tell Apple Bloom and Scootaloo how you’re feeling?”

“Crusading’s what we do,” Sweetie Belle sighed. “If I don’t crusade, how can we still be friends?”

“Well, darling, it’s perfectly possible to have friends who don’t share all of the same interests as you. You can even be different kinds of ponies entirely and still be wonderful friends,” Rarity said.

“Like you and Applejack?”

“Exactly.”

Every adventure they had together threw the disparities between Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie into sharp relief. Those differences hadn’t prevented them from saving Equestria on multiple occasions; on the contrary, they had made each obstacle surmountable. Furthermore they had helped other ponies to not only improve themselves but to make friends with one another. In one way, helping Sweetie Belle to overcome her fears could be considered another part of Rarity’s mandate to help Twilight spread friendship across Equestria.

“I do think that you should talk to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo about this,” Rarity said to Sweetie Belle. “I’m sure they’d understand.”

“I’m sorry I made you sound demanding in front of them,” Sweetie Belle said. Rarity blushed minutely. “And that I used you as an excuse,” Sweetie Belle continued. “But I do want to help you make Twilight’s dress.”

Sweetie Belle sounded happier. Rarity smiled, relieved. “I think it’s going to be divine.”

“Are we going to start designing now then?”

“Yes, we probably should get started, although there’s no rush. And if you’d like to talk about this again, or anything else, you do know that I am happy to help, don’t you?” Rarity checked. “Really and truly? It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh, um, okay, Rarity,” Sweetie Belle said. “Thank you.”

Rarity’s stomach suddenly squeaked and grumbled. Sweetie Belle began to giggle. The clock on the wall read nearly two in the afternoon. “Oh, my, look at the time,” Rarity exclaimed. “Shall we have a late lunch before we do anything else?”

“Okay.” Sweetie Belle sprang from the sofa. Opalescence, who so rarely showed affection, actually rubbed herself against Sweetie Belle’s back leg: a sure sign that the mood within the boutique had improved considerably.

Rarity still felt that she should do more, however. She smiled smugly. “Actually, I do have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Sweetie Belle squeaked appropriately.

“Yes. I made something for you, to thank you for all of your hard work over the past few days.” Rarity walked towards one of the dress rails she kept in the workroom. This one was currently covered with a blanket. Rarity was barely able to keep herself from giving a little jump of anticipatory delight, which put a bounce in her gait. 

Rarity removed the blanket from the rail with a dramatic flourish. White light radiated from her horn, reflecting off the sequins that shimmered on Sweetie Belle’s new blue dress. Sweetie Belle’s jaw slackened, her eyes shining. Then she beat her front hooves against the floor and squealed.

The design, though relatively simple, was reminiscent of the Crystal Empire. Notably the dress featured flowing sleeves that covered the forearm and two light green crystals over the breast where the collar ended. There were also couple of diamond-shaped clasps for her mane.

Sweetie Belle rushed up to the dress rail, using her magic to levitate the dress from its hanger and down into her hooves. Rarity nickered gleefully.

“This is amazing!” Sweetie Belle shrieked. “It’s for me? How did you have the time to make this?” she demanded.

“After you left each night. I’m so glad that you like it.”

“Like it? I love it! I love you!” Sweetie Belle gushed, and dropped the dress in favour of leaping up to hug Rarity. Rarity was quick to use her magic to lay the dress gently on the floor, and her ability to concentrate on several things at once was very useful when the impact of Sweetie Belle against her shoulder forced Rarity to take a few steps in order to maintain her balance.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sweetie Belle’s repeated squeals were broken up by incoherent squeaks. They nuzzled affectionately.

“I was going to save it for a more prestigious occasion,” Rarity admitted once Sweetie Belle had calmed slightly. “But I hoped it would cheer you up. It’s yours now, so it’s your choice when you wear it. Do remember it will lose its impact once everypony sees it,” she warned.

Sweetie Belle released Rarity and trotted back over to the dress. She placed the garment back on its hanger, and then lifted it into the air with her magic and started to rotate it, staring intently. Her tongue poked out from between her lips. The aura of Rarity’s magic mingled with Sweetie Belle’s around the dress when sweat began to bead on her forehead and roll down her nose. Gratefully she released the dress, and Rarity hung it back on the rail.

Sighing happily, Sweetie Belle smiled sincerely up at Rarity. Then her gaze was drawn back to her gift. The love that squeezed Rarity’s heart made a lump rise in her throat, like when she found the picture Sweetie Belle made using those baby blue sapphires, before they completed the Sisterhooves Social.

“Thank you,” Sweetie Belle said again.

“Well, that’s quite all right.” Rarity only just resisted the urge to cry. “I’ll see you downstairs shortly.” Quickly she trotted away so that her happy tears could fall unnoticed and unjudged.

They shared lunch in companionable silence. The cathartic experience of crying over the cucumbers had left Rarity quite worn out. Though she certainly had no regrets about the lack of sleep and spa time she’d had in the last week, if it wasn’t for Sweetie Belle’s desire to help design Twilight’s dress Rarity would happily head to bed right now.

“I need to tell you something else,” Sweetie Belle said suddenly. “It’s not just my cutie mark I’m worried about. When we were in Appleoosa—”

Regrettably, Rarity started to snore gently. Sweetie Belle looked up from her cucumber sandwiches. “Rarity?” she asked.

Her big sister didn’t respond except to nicker lightly. She swayed in her seat.

Sweetie Belle exhaled, perplexed. It was barely mid-afternoon.

On further reflection, Sweetie Belle supposed that Rarity deserved a nap. Anypony would have laughed when Rarity gently toppled forwards and collided face-first with her half-eaten sandwiches though. Her horn impaled one sandwich straight through the middle. Cucumber water trickled onto the plate.

Once Sweetie Belle had finished giggling she quietly tidied her plate into the sink and went back upstairs to admire her new dress. She took liberty with Rarity’s sketch pad, inspired by the garb before her and by Twilight’s cutie mark.

In the end, her sketches were less for design purposes and aimed more at putting on the fridge in her parents’ house. She did pin one picture of herself and Rarity hugging to the window beam beside some of Rarity’s other designs. Having a sister was still remarkably hard a lot of the time. But moments like this made up for a lot of the trials.







Of all of the types of quiet a pony could hear in their life, Applejack’s favourite was undoubtedly the one of Sweet Apple Acres at rest. The peace of the orchard at the end of a long day was incomparable. Total silence was unsettling; sounds of life like the wind rustling the leaves and the occasional cluck of a tired hen were what a pony like Applejack needed to feel content.

Apple Bloom could see her tail swishing languidly as she walked up to the farmhouse. “Howdy, lil’ sis,” Applejack greeted her. There were lines beneath her eyes.

“Hi, Applejack. Did ya finish painting the barn?”

“Sure did. Pinkie Pie came by and helped out. She painted another one of those big smiles on the side. She never gets tired of that. Good thing too; that barn of ours seems to need repainting more often than a cow needs milking. Y’all have fun crusading today?”

Apple Bloom stood beside her older sister and looked out across the vegetable patch. “Scootaloo and I were with Spike and Twilight at the castle. I didn’t get my cutie mark.” She smiled widely nevertheless. “We made cookies and all sorts of fun stuff. It was great!”

“Not Sweetie Belle?”

“She was helpin’ Rarity to make another dress,” Apple Bloom said with a sigh.

“Ain’t she been doing that all week?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t done yet when Scootaloo and I went by.”

They heard the flutter of wings in the air above them. Applejack looked up. “Well, dress-making’s no easy business,” she said absently.

“Applejack, can I ask you somethin’?”

“You sure can, sugarcube.” Applejack was still looking upwards at the roof of the farmhouse. What was the likelihood that bats were roosting in the timbers? She ought to ask Fluttershy to check up on all the wild critters around the farm, make certain they were all behaving themselves.

“We wrote an entry in Twilight’s journal about Trouble Shoes,” Apple Bloom said. “I was looking at the entries I haven’t read yet, and I found lots about something called cutie unmarking.”

Applejack’s ears twitched. She turned and looked intently at Apple Bloom.

“She was also talkin’ about Starlight Glimmer a whole lot.”

“Consarn it, Twilight,” Applejack muttered. 

Though Apple Bloom hadn’t asked a proper question thus far, the tension radiating off her sister was difficult to ignore. “What? What’s wrong?”

The silence that followed her question was uncomfortable. Applejack watched the faint twinkling of two stars just above the horizon, the first of many that would appear in the night sky. Princess Luna would raise the moon shortly.

“Sometimes I think you’re too interested in cutie marks for your own good,” Applejack finally said.

Although she already felt rebuked, Apple Bloom answered, “But how can I not be? I don’t have my cutie mark yet.” She glanced back at her flank automatically. The dirty mark caused by sliding along the floor in the castle was still there. Even in the gathering gloom only wishful thinking could make it look like a real cutie mark. 

“We’ve talked about this, sugarcube,” Applejack said, frustration creeping into her voice.

“Just because I know that it don’t matter what it is, and just because it’s nice that we helped Trouble Shoes, doesn’t mean I don’t want my cutie mark.” 

Applejack heaved a sigh. “I know.”

“And I don’t want to have a cutie unmarking,” Apple Bloom said deliberately.

“You won’t.” Applejack gave the farmyard a final once-over for the day. “Come inside now and I’ll tell you a bit about it, since I know that’s what you’re really askin’.”

At the kitchen table, Apple Bloom helped herself to a couple of slices of pie. It felt like it had been a long time since she’d eaten back at the castle. Winona came in at Applejack’s call, panting happily. Apple Bloom gave her an affectionate scratch behind the ears.

After she’d closed the front door Applejack actually took her hat off. Joining Apple Bloom at the table with a yawn, she began.

“The town me and the girls went to thanks to that crystal map of Twilight’s was run by Starlight Glimmer. Looked like just an ordinary village, although Pinkie Pie didn’t like it, not one bit.” Apple Bloom’s ears perked up at that. “But every one of the ponies living there had the same cutie mark.”

Apple Bloom choked momentarily on the piece of pie she was eating. She stared at Applejack.

“T’were an equals sign.” Applejack moved her hoof in a straight line through the air twice for emphasis. “Starlight Glimmer was mighty good at magic; as good as Twilight was when she came to live in Ponyville, I reckon, though I’m no magic judge. Strong enough to cast a spell that can replace a pony’s true cutie mark with that equals sign.”

Apple Bloom gasped. “Why would she do that?”

“The ponies asked her to. They all had it in their heads that havin’ different cutie marks and talents makes ponies fight, and that makes ‘em miserable in the end. Starlight thought that too.” Applejack snorted lightly. “By all having the same cutie mark, you’re all equal and friendly, and you never argue with each other. Theoretically. But real friendship isn’t about never arguing.” There was a firm edge in Applejack’s voice.

“What’s a cutie unmarking, then?”

“That’s just the name they had for when Starlight took away their cutie marks,” Applejack said, frowning at an invisible mark on the table. She rubbed it firmly with her hoof. “Differences do lead to arguments sometimes, sugarcube. But you can learn a lot from ponies who aren’t like you.”

“Is that all?”

Applejack shifted on her seat. “Pretty much… Like I told ya before, we showed those ponies what true friendship is, differences an’ all. They came around and they got their individual cutie marks back.” She pushed her mane up and wiped her forehead. “So there’ll be no more cutie unmarkings, not for any pony, and certainly not for you. You don’t hafta think about that no more.”

Winona had fallen asleep in front of the stove. Apple Bloom finished her pie. “I thought maybe it was something that happened to old ponies that no one told me about,” she admitted. Applejack chuckled, shaking her head.

Apple Bloom frowned after a few seconds of thought. “So were all the ponies happy with having the same cutie mark until y’all got there?”

Though she was loath to do so, Applejack admitted, “Most of them were.” Concerned that Apple Bloom looked at her flank without giving any indication of what she was thinking about, Applejack added, “But they were even happier to have their real cutie marks back.”

Applejack was well aware of how much she was leaving out of the story. It made her dreadfully uncomfortable. But she didn’t want to tell Apple Bloom about Starlight Glimmer. She could be utterly honest and paint Starlight as the villain she was, but she just didn’t have the heart or stomach to tell Apple Bloom that her cutie mark had been forcibly removed by a pony who didn’t care what she believed in. She didn’t want Apple Bloom to know such ponies even existed. Not yet.

Applejack evaded giving away any further information when answering the few questions that followed. Mostly she just clarified what she’d already said. Apple Bloom was certainly interested, but not overly so, and she wasn’t falling prey to Starlight’s foolish way of thinking. Applejack would have been more proud of that if she hadn’t been apprehensive about what else Twilight might have written in the Journal of Friendship.

“Are you three going over to the castle tomorrow to help with the books, like you said?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said. “Least, me and Scoot are.”

Applejack nodded and excused herself. Normally, given the long day she’d had, she would go to bed with the chickens. She was looking forward to a good night of sleep. But she didn’t want to hear any more about Starlight Glimmer if it could be avoided. So she decided to head on over to see Twilight. She could get there while it was still vaguely excusable to visit.

The moon had just finished rising when she set off, and the grass in front of the castle was bathed in picturesque silver light by the time she arrived. She paused. Twilight Sparkle’s castle truly looked like something out of a story book in this lighting.

Applejack blamed her weariness for that kind of fanciful thinking. Why, it was worthy of Rarity.

She hesitated, and then knocked on the great golden door. The castle was Twilight and Spike’s home. Perhaps she had more right than most to call at this time of night without announcing an emergency. But just because Applejack had decorated the kitchen to her own liking and had her own throne here didn’t mean she could waltz in without showing common courtesy. She wouldn’t dream of just walking right into Fluttershy’s cottage.

Twilight opened the door, looking surprised. “Applejack? What are you doing here so late?”

“Sorry, Twilight. I need to talk to ya about something.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just a little late. Spike’s already gone to bed. What’s going on?” She stepped aside to let Applejack enter the castle.

They walked side-by-side through the foyer. In truth Applejack wasn’t entirely sure where they were going, but she soon recognised that they were heading for the kitchen. “I know that Apple Bloom was here earlier today with Scootaloo,” she began.

“Oh, yes. We had a great time together.”

“She said that. She also said they’re helping you rearrange your library books tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah, I’ve been needing to do it for a while. And I would not be surprised if re-shelving day takes more than one day here. We can definitely use the assistance. Is that the problem?”

“No, course not. It’s something else. She told me that they wrote about the Appleoosa Rodeo in the Journal of Friendship.”

“Yes. Oh!” Twilight smiled sincerely at Applejack. “Would you like to write something as well? That would be terrific.” She clopped her front hooves together excitedly.

Applejack wasn’t sure whether to laugh or snap at her friend. She groaned slightly instead and Twilight instantly looked worried, leaning in to study Applejack more closely. “Gosh, you look really tired. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I should let you finish, shouldn’t I?”

“That’d be real good of ya,” Applejack agreed.

“Okay. Go on.”

“When Apple Bloom was done writing in the journal, she started flickin’ back to read whatever she hadn’t already, I guess. Did you happen to notice that?”

Twilight shook her head as they walked into the kitchen. A wall of pleasant warmth hit Applejack and then surrounded her: there was a healthy fire burning in the hearth. If the books on the table were any indication, Twilight was practically camped out in here. No wonder, considering the winter chill that still lingered throughout the vast castle.

Applejack instantly felt more at ease in these surroundings, even though the pie dishes were as-yet unused and she could tell by sight that some of the apples in one of the wooden baskets were going rotten. She could admit that the farm décor didn’t match the castle’s crystal nature as well as Rarity’s gem-lined curtains and bright flowers did, but it still made her feel better.

“I’ll make some s’mores,” Twilight said. “Want a few?”

Owlowiscious was perched on a shelf beside the clock. He hooted in greeting when Applejack looked in his direction, finding the time wasn’t as late as she felt like it was.

“That would be great, Twilight, if yer willing.”

“Of course. You were saying about the journal?”

“Well, Apple Bloom said that you’ve written a whole heap about what happened when we followed the map and met Starlight Glimmer.”

Twilight retracted her head from inside a cupboard, the necessary ingredients for s’mores held in the embrace of her magic. “I did write quite a lot after we got back. More than just a friendship lesson. There was just so much to think about.”

“What did you write?” Applejack asked, and concealed a yawn behind her hoof.

“Well, I did write about what we learned about friendship, of course,” Twilight said seriously as she began to select marshmallows for toasting. “I wrote about Sugar Belle and the other ponies choosing to stay in the village and renew their friendship. Then… I suppose I got a little off-topic, at least as far as the journal is concerned. I recognised most of the spells that Starlight Glimmer cast, but I’ve never encountered a spell like the one she cast to remove our cutie marks before.”

Twilight looked over her shoulder and wings at her cutie mark. Applejack empathised with her expression of discomfort.

“That’s a powerful spell, Applejack,” Twilight said, turning her attention back to the marshmallows. There was a small frown on her face.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Applejack agreed avidly.

Twilight gave her a funny little smile. “I started trying to understand how it works. I didn’t get very far. I’m still trying. There must be a book that contains her spell, but I haven’t found it yet. That’s actually one reason why I need to re-shelve my books. I haven’t even been able to file all of them yet.”

“I assumed you did that while you were moving in, before all the trouble with the map.” Without being asked, Applejack began to toast the marshmallows over the fire.

“I did. The library wasn’t full, so I asked Celestia to send more books. Maybe I shouldn’t have. With the map, and then avoiding the castle, and then clearing autumn away… I kept meaning to sort the new books in but I didn’t have time. And they just kept coming! I must have a whole wing of the Canterlot Archives here by now.” Twilight pulled an exasperated face.

“And that’s so bad,” Applejack said, elongating the word ‘so’. She smirked, in case she’d sounded mean.

“Hm!” Twilight snickered, colour rising in her cheeks. 

“That’s what I thought,” Applejack answered. The heat of the fire felt mighty nice against her face. “But I thought ya made schedules to stop you from forgetting to do things like sort out your books.”

“I do,” Twilight confirmed. “But there’s been such a lot to do since becoming the Princess of Friendship, and such a lot of reading as well. My schedules are… harder to keep to.”

Applejack idly wondered how Twilight had avoided a nervous episode or three if that was true. Spike did more for Twilight than either of them really let on.

“Since I live here, I kept putting off sorting out these books in order to visit Celestia and Luna’s old castle. There are so many books there as well, and it seemed like I could organise my own books at any time. But even there I haven’t been able to find any mention of a spell that can remove and replace cutie marks. And then I visited Celestia, and we had winter wrap-up day, and…”

Twilight kept talking as Applejack poked one of the marshmallows. It wasn’t ready yet but Applejack ate it anyway; couldn’t use a less-than-perfect marshmallow for a s’more. Applejack imagined that her reasoning would appeal to Rarity’s finicky nature, although there was no understanding that one sometimes. “Princess Celestia?” she repeated absent-mindedly.

“Funnily enough, she said she’d ask Luna. Actually, I haven’t heard anything else about it from her.”

Applejack blinked abruptly. The flames were mesmerising. She steered them back to the reason for her visit. “So did ya write about anything else in the journal, or just your thinkin’ about that spell?”

“Oh, no, I realised very soon that I needed separate notes for the spell.” Twilight divided the chocolate into pieces and placed each piece on an individual cracker. “Let me think. I also wrote about the noticeable properties of the equality cutie sign, and why I thought ponies might start to believe in Starlight’s teachings. Maybe a few other things.”

“You must have had a lot on your mind,” Applejack said, “not that I blame ya.” The marshmallows were now sufficiently toasted and Applejack trotted back to the table with them.

“Yes, I did.” Twilight quickly made a plateful of s’mores and the pair began to eat. “And it’s really nice to talk to you about what happened, actually. But it doesn’t explain why you felt the need to come over here tonight.”

“Oh, yeah. Apple Bloom came home and started asking me about Starlight. I told her as much of the truth as I dared, but—but I didn’t mention what Starlight did to us.” The memory made Applejack cringe. Briefly, her s’more didn’t look so appetising.

Twilight blanched. “Oh. I can see why you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to lie to her. See though, I don’t know if I could if she was askin’ more about it. So, I guess I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind… you know, making sure she can’t read no more about Starlight when she’s here tomorrow?”

Twilight didn’t answer immediately. Applejack waited patiently. “Of course, if you really want, but are you sure that’s the best idea?” Twilight inquired eventually. She’d told Spike and though he’d obviously been distressed, she was glad he knew what had happened. Then again, Spike was older than Apple Bloom, and more knowledgeable about the world. 

“I am,” Applejack said firmly. “Look, maybe we can tell her - and her friends - the real truth at some point. Maybe even real soon, if it’s all gettin’ too complicated. But she’s still a little filly. I don’t want her thinking about somepony doing that to us if she don’t have to.”

“She might not understand it fully.”

“My little sister ain’t a box of rocks,” Applejack said churlishly. When Twilight gave her an askance look, she amended herself. “What I mean is she’ll understand enough for it to give her nightmares.”

“All right,” Twilight conceded. “I think it would be a good idea to talk to our friends about this though. If Apple Bloom’s interested in Starlight Glimmer…”

“She’s probably told Scootaloo already,” Applejack finished, sighing. “Sweetie Belle next. Then they’ll all be asking questions. Those fillies really are obsessed with their cutie marks. I reckon that’s why Apple Bloom even noticed what you wrote, like a magpie seein’ something shiny. She didn’t mention nothin’ about what we learned making that chandelier.”

They’d cleared the plate of s’mores. “I’m sure we can get everypony together to talk about it soon,” Twilight promised. One could argue it was only important that they speak with Rarity and Rainbow Dash, but as Twilight was already involved and Pinkie Pie was an honorary Apple, it seemed natural to include Fluttershy.

“Thanks, sugarcube.” Applejack smiled. “I best be getting back on home now.”

“Will you be okay?” Twilight joined her as she headed for the hallway. “I meant it earlier when I said you looked tired. I thought you were going to fall asleep right here in my kitchen a couple of times.”

Applejack flushed. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured Twilight. “I’m-a heading straight to bed, don’t you worry about that.”

“Okay. We should do this again. I mean, have s’mores around the fire, not freak out about Starlight Glimmer.”

“Reckon we’ll have plenty o’ chances to do both in the future,” Applejack said.

“Probably,” Twilight said pensively.

At the door they said their good nights and farewells and Applejack set off for Sweet Apple Acres at a swift but sustainable canter. Her hoof beats and breathing were all that she could hear as she passed through the centre of Ponyville. The town was different at night. Shadows softened the edges of the buildings. The moon and the stars gave the whole place a serene, not-quite-eerie sense of timelessness. 

Any more of this fancy thinking and Applejack thought she might have to declare herself a dreamer rather than an eminently practical pony. She shook her head and cantered on home, heeding the call of her bed and the blessed silence of sleep.
> 3. The Rain
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Good morning, Spike! Spike, get up! Today’s the day!”

Spike yelped as Twilight rudely pressed her face up against his own. Her elated grin completely disrupted his somnolence and the contentment he found therein.

“Don’t do that!” he protested, crawling away and covering his face with his blanket.

“What are you still doing in bed?” He could hear Twilight hopping around his room animatedly.

“It’s a great day for sleeping in,” he grumbled. The cavernous nature of the castle meant that when it rained, the sound permeated everything. The acoustics were better suited to sleeping in the rain than the library had ever been, and it had been months since the last decent rainfall. He’d hoped to get a little more enjoyment out of it before Twilight came barging in.

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Twilight lectured him. “Think of the positives, not the negatives. After today, it’ll be so much easier to look after the library. And we have a whole day to remind ourselves how much there’s still to learn about the world!”

Spike shoved his head under his pillow. Twilight considered this for a moment. “And a whole day to be the number one assistant in the whole of Equestria,” she said sweetly.

Spike muttered something short and intelligible.

“A whole day to spend with our friends having a good time?” she tried.

Her only response was a muffled groan. Twilight snorted in exasperation and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said irritably. “I do have something important to tell you as well.”

Spike lifted his pillow marginally, so that Twilight could see part of his face, and frowned at her expectantly.

“I’ll tell you, over breakfast,” Twilight said. But Spike just moaned again.

“Come on,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ll make pancakes.” That would surely do the trick. 

Spike rubbed his eyes. He looked at the water running in rivulets down his bedroom window and sighed wistfully. However, he couldn’t turn down pancakes – although he could still express his displeasure by sulking. He hopped off his bed and followed the sound of her hooves, maintaining his scowl.

“What the—” he heard Twilight say.

Pinkie Pie cried, “Watch out!” and Spike looked up in time to be stopped short by a pancake hitting him in the face.

“Pinkie Pie?!” Twilight said incredulously. “What are you doing?”

“Making pancakes, duh!”

“I mean here?” Twilight amended quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“Still making pancakes, silly!”

“That’s not an answer!”

Spike finished eating the delicious pancake that had been delivered straight into his hungry mouth and entered the kitchen. Pinkie Pie was standing beside the stove, flipping pancakes across the kitchen onto a plate on the table. Clearly she had over-exuberantly flipped one right through the doorway. Twilight was staring at her with wide eyes.

Spike laughed. “Oh, come on, Twilight. It’s Pinkie Pie.” He cheerfully took a place at the table and helped himself to a third of the pancake stack. Pinkie had considerately put out a bowl of ruby slivers for him, as well as berries aimed at herself and Twilight.

“That’s still not an answer,” Twilight said.

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Everypony in Ponyville knows today is re-shelving day, Twilight. And I love re-shelving day because you love re-shelving day. The Cakes were happy to give me the day off to help. All hooves on deck!”

“Everypony in Ponyville?” Twilight repeated doubtfully.

“Yarrr,” Pinkie Pie growled in mimicry of a pirate.

“But I only decided it would be today, yesterday.”

“I told everypony.”

“How did you know?”

“Does it really matter?” Spike asked, arranging shards of ruby on his pancake. “Stop worrying, Twilight.”

Twilight huffed. “Was it your Pinkie sense?” she continued. “Is a book going to fall on my head?” she asked, resigned to her inevitable fate.

“You know my Pinkie sense is only for immediate events,” Pinkie Pie said, and flipped another pancake towards the table. Her tail vibrated suddenly. “Look out!” she cried, in vain, as the pancake had already hit Twilight and been skewered by her horn.

Twilight lifted the pancake off her face with her magic, revealing a fond smile. “I don’t suppose it really matters,” she relented, and took a bite. Spike’s standard morning-grumpiness hadn’t dampened her spirits for long. Neither had the rain, and neither could Pinkie Pie (loving her didn’t make her existence any less fascinating). Not on this day.

“Well,” said Pinkie Pie, “if you’d given me a chance, I would’ve told you that yesterday I saw Apple Bloom and Scootaloo whispering together, like they were sharing a big secret, and I like secrets, as long as they aren’t hurting anypony, so I asked them if I could know, and Pinkie-promised on it, and they told me it wasn’t a secret and that you were having re-shelving day today and they were going to help you. I realised that I could help you too. And since it wasn’t really a secret I told everypony.”

Twilight looked at Spike. “Makes sense,” Spike said amiably. He spread his claws wide apart in an unconcerned shrugging gesture before helping himself to yet another pancake.

“So are other ponies going to come by to help us?” Twilight asked, with growing unease. The Crusaders’ help was welcome enough, since she’d had a chance to get used to the idea of their inefficient but admittedly fun method of shelving books according to Twilight’s categories. Pinkie’s vigour would speed the process along. But if the whole town came to the castle how would she ever be able to concentrate? There would be far too many distractions!

Pinkie Pie shrugged. “Everypony’s probably already made plans. I only told them yesterday and this morning before I came here.”

“Don’t worry, Twilight,” Spike said supportively. “We can keep any ponies who come by and cause a ruckus in line.”

How ironic, Twilight thought as Pinkie Pie flipped another pancake and Spike literally leapt out of his seat to catch it in his gaping jaws, much to Pinkie’s giggly amusement.

“You said you had something to talk to me about,” Spike tried to say despite his full mouthful.

“Seriously?” Twilight admonished.

Spike swallowed and repeated himself.

“Apple Bloom read a couple of my musings about Starlight Glimmer yesterday in the Journal of Friendship,” Twilight said.

Pinkie Pie’s outrageous gasp interrupted her. Twilight calmly shoved her hoof into Pinkie’s mouth to silence her - she didn’t question how Pinkie had appeared within hoof’s reach of Twilight without apparently moving. Pinkie began to tremble. Spike licked his claws and gesticulated that Twilight should continue.

“She didn’t have the chance to read very much, but it was enough for her to ask questions,” said Twilight. “Applejack doesn’t want her to find out that Starlight removed our cutie marks by force.”

She released Pinkie, concerned by the startling shade of cobalt that her coat had turned to. Pinkie Pie rapidly returned to her normal colouration. However, she didn’t speak.

“How did—? Nggh, never mind. We need to hide the Journal of Friendship from the Cutie Mark Crusaders today, and I want to schedule a meeting with everypony to talk about how to handle the situation. I don’t like the idea of hiding things from the fillies, but I agreed to until we’ve established what we should do. I’m sure they’ll want to know more. They’ll be looking for that journal. So you two should be on the lookout for anything suspicious.”

“Like a cat?” Pinkie asked in such a reasonable voice that Twilight actually looked around before getting a grip.

“Suspicious behaviour,” Twilight corrected.

Pinkie Pie blinked at her.

“Yes, like a cat,” Twilight said circumspectly, trying to decipher the hidden genius in Pinkie’s words.

“Casting an invisibility spell on the journal would make it pretty hard to find until you reverse the spell,” Spike said, feeling as Twilight did. “I’ll find a book with one in after breakfast.”

“No need, Spike; I know where to find a spell like that,” Pinkie answered. “You enjoy your breakfast.” She bounced out of the kitchen, humming to herself.

“Ah-ha!” Twilight exclaimed. “Like a cat! Because curiosity—” Twilight realised that Pinkie was gone and Spike was more interested in food than in her successful decryption. She groaned peevishly.







The rain had started very late the previous evening - an interesting choice of time for a pony as interested in sleeping as Rainbow Dash - and fell constantly overnight. Applejack wasn’t bothered by rain - or mud - in the least. In fact she welcomed this storm, the first big downpour of the spring. The ground needed a good dousing to get the growing season underway. Still, there were benefits to wearing galoshes when working in a storm. They were almost instantly covered in thick, gloopy mud once she stepped off the cobbled paths around the farm. She didn’t want to track excessive mud into the farmhouse by dint of simply walking. Why make work when there was no need?

She and Big Mac were carrying a ladder from the barn to the farmhouse in order to fix an overflowing gutter they’d spotted when Apple Bloom came outside, ready to meet Scootaloo and go to Twilight’s castle, via Sweetie Belle’s house.

“What in tarnation are you wearing?” Applejack exclaimed rhetorically, for it was quite obvious.

“One of Pinkie’s umbrella hats,” Apple Bloom said happily. Her mane was completely dry.

Pinkie Pie brought colour to one’s life purely by being part of it. That was undoubtedly her intention. “I can see that,” Applejack laughed. “Just surprised to see it on you is all.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac agreed.

“Seems it does the job though.” Applejack could feel the brim of her own hat sagging with moisture. This was the third one she’d worn so far and it wasn’t even mid-morning. Thankfully they’d transferred enough firewood into the house during the previous day that they would be able to keep a fire burning in the hearth all day for drying purposes.

“Off to the castle?” she asked Apple Bloom.

“Eeyup,” Apple Bloom said solemnly. Big Mac chuckled.

“I reckon I’ll be able to come by later to see how y’all are getting along,” Applejack told her. Big Mac could handle any chores leftover by lunchtime. “You let Twilight know, okay sugarcube? Have a good time.”

She pensively watched Apple Bloom scarper. Though she stayed on the paths the motion of her trotting kicked up mud that splattered on her blank hindquarters. Applejack suspected she’d be given a bath at the castle before the day was over.

“You don’t have to worry about Apple Bloom,” her brother commented.

“I… it was obvious, huh?”

“Eeyup.”

“It just comes natural, I guess.”

“I know, but there’s no need,” Big Mac said. He tapped his hoof against the ladder pointedly.

The familiar rhythm of hard work dispelled some of Applejack’s anxiety. Still, part of her remained fixated on Apple Bloom and Starlight Glimmer, her fears and her memories playing repeatedly in the back of her mind.







As it happened, Apple Bloom didn’t receive a bath at the castle.

“Stop right there!” Rarity shrieked. “Don’t you move one muscle, Apple Bloom!”

Apple Bloom froze, one hoof raised off the floor. A droplet of mud trembled on the edge of her hoof. Scootaloo pointed at it with an expression of comic horror.

Rarity moved like lightning, flinging an excessive number of cloths at Apple Bloom with her magic, completely covering the filly. Thankfully her rapid response averted disaster, saving the boutique’s floor from an onslaught by ick and yuck alike.

With a cough, Apple Bloom tossed her head and re-emerged into daylight. She looked at Scootaloo, who was snickering, and then at Rarity, the epitome of elegance and cleanliness. Rarity didn’t ask if Apple Bloom had been raised in a barn, but the sentiment was obvious in her eyes.

“Um…” Apple Bloom started nervously.

“I’ll run a bath for you,” Rarity announced, turning on her hooves.

As soon as she was gone Scootaloo fell onto on her back, clutching her belly as she convulsed with laughter. “Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom reprimanded.

“Did you see her face?” Even though Apple Bloom was the only other pony in the room Scootaloo spoke to the world at large. “That was priceless.”

“Scootaloo!”

“Oh! Right.” Scootaloo got a grip and stood up. “I’m gonna go find Sweetie Belle.” She trotted off. A stifled giggle reached Apple Bloom’s ears.

Rarity returned and carried Apple Bloom with her magic, cloths and all, upstairs into her bathroom. Apple Bloom wasn’t inclined to complain about the overreaction when the water was warm, the suds were thick and the steam was fragrant. The finer things in life weren’t to be sniffed at.

“Found her,” said Scootaloo, walking in with Sweetie Belle.

“Why are you in my sister’s tub?” asked Sweetie Belle, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Rarity using her magic to scrub Apple Bloom’s coat and pour water over her head, all in silence.

“Guess I got a little dirty on my way over here,” Apple Bloom said. Mud was easy to avoid in Ponyville even during heavy rain. Sweet Apple Acres was another story.

“A little dirty?” Rarity repeated in a tone that suggested Apple Bloom had surfed into the boutique on a mudslide.

“Sorry, Rarity,” Apple Bloom apologised. “We went by your house looking for you, Sweetie. Your mom and dad said you were here.”

“Is your designing going well?” Scootaloo asked. “Are you done yet? Can we see the dress?”

Sweetie Belle’s ears canted backwards. She gave her friends a small, apologetic smile. “No. Sorry.” Rarity had begged her not to tell anypony that she’d fallen asleep in the middle of lunch and ended up with metaphorical egg (literal cucumber) on her face (horn). So it would be difficult to explain in detail why they hadn’t finished the design.

Rarity swivelled her head in Sweetie Belle’s direction. “Dresses can’t be made that quickly, dear,” she said distractedly to Scootaloo.

“Oh… we were hoping you would have finished so you could come to Twilight’s with us for re-shelving day,” Scootaloo said dejectedly.

Sweetie Belle shook her head and looked at the ground guiltily. A few seconds of sombre silence passed. It became clear to Rarity that Sweetie Belle wasn’t going to utilise the opportunity to speak to her friends about her feelings, so she drew their attention by clearing her throat. “Twilight is having re-shelving day today, girls?”

Apple Bloom recognised the leading tone and answered with, “She hasn’t had time to do it all winter. There’s books all over the place.”

“Even for a library it’s crazy,” Scootaloo said, crossing her eyes for emphasis. “There might be more books off shelves than on them. So we’re going to help her sort out them all out and re-shelve them.”

“We might get our cutie marks in it,” Apple Bloom added with a smile, reaching for a towel. Rarity gave Sweetie Belle a measuring look. She looked even sadder than she previously had. Despite her preference for remaining as far from the rain as possible, Rarity knew she must do the right thing for the sake of her sister. 

“I believe I shall join you,” Rarity decided.

“Huh?” said Apple Bloom, dropping the towel into the bath water in surprise. 

“What?” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo said together.

“But Twilight’s dress!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

“It all makes sense,” Rarity said unequivocally, retrieving the sodden towel with a small harrumph. “Twilight and Spike will need plenty of help with the books,” she enlightened the three. “I could do with a little break from the boutique, beautiful as it is. It will be lovely to visit a friend. Sweetie Belle and I can also use our time in the castle to gather inspiration for our dress for Twilight.”

“You do know that it’s raining, don’t you?” Sweetie Belle inquired sceptically. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom didn’t associate her growing scowl with anything more than understandable doubt.

Rarity glowered back at Sweetie Belle, because she did know, and it would be nice to be shown a little appreciation for being willing to do what was necessary to solve Sweetie Belle’s problem. “I have many clothes that are suitable for inclement weather, Sweetie Belle,” she said staunchly. Rarity pulled the plug out of the tub, satisfied to see the dirty water draining away, and left the bathroom, mentally comparing the outfits she had in mind.

“Well that was unexpected,” Scootaloo commented.

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “Rarity never goes out in the rain if she can avoid it.” As much as Sweetie Belle enjoyed getting her hooves dirty, she’d grown to accept that it truly bothered Rarity. She wanted Rarity to like doing things with her, not consider her a herald of muddy torment.

“Aw, it’ll be fine,” Apple Bloom said, towelling her mane dry and adjusting her bow. “It don’t take long to get to the castle. And this way you can spend time with us as well as your sister!”

“What are you talking about?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Twilight ‘splained it all,” Apple Bloom said reassuringly. “You spent all week with Rarity without fightin’. And I know it’s important to you that you and Rarity get along. When you didn’t want to come crusading with us I didn’t know what to think. I thought maybe you was lying about wanting to design a dress for Twilight,” she said sheepishly. “But now I see you wanted to keep having a good time with Rarity, and just because you wanted to do that instead of crusading doesn’t mean you don’t like us anymore. I guess I didn’t understand that at first, what with Applejack being such an awesome sister.”

Sweetie Belle frowned. Among other things, Apple Bloom’s praise for Applejack rubbed her the wrong way. Her behaviour wasn’t about that at all.

But Scootaloo was making gagging motions, and Sweetie Belle snickered, her frustration alleviated.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Apple Bloom said, smiling brilliantly at Sweetie Belle. When Scootaloo started smiling as well a warm feeling spread through Sweetie Belle’s body. She found that she was smiling too.

None of what Apple Bloom had said was strictly untrue, and Sweetie Belle didn’t have any interest in ruining the moment. She hugged them both quickly and said, “That’s okay. Thanks for telling me how you feel.”

“That’s not all we’ve got to tell you,” Scootaloo said with a wicked grin. “But it’ll have to be later. Don’t want your sister overhearing.”

Sweetie Belle’s fleeting disappointment was overwhelmed by the good feeling of standing beside her best friends again ready to enjoy whatever the day threw at them.

“Let’s crusade,” Apple Bloom said happily, and the three of them high-hoofed one another enthusiastically.

Sweetie Belle was glad the crusading was going to be mild, though.







Twilight opened the door of the castle so swiftly that Rarity absently wondered if she had been waiting for them, similar to how Opalescence would immediately pounce on her if Rarity had gone out for the day and Opal felt neglected.

“Oh, Rarity, hi!” she heard Twilight say with delight, but getting out of the rain took priority over returning the greeting.

Inconveniently, Pinkie Pie actually did pounce on the four guests, impeding Rarity’s swift entry. They collided and Rarity’s momentum carried them several metres forwards in a tumble of manes and limbs. Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo dashed in out of the rain behind Rarity.

Pinkie Pie and Rarity came to rest in an inadvertent hug that nonetheless looked entirely intentional.

“Hi, Rarity, I’m glad to see you as well!” Pinkie Pie beamed at her friend. “It’s a good thing I knew you were coming or this hug could have really hurt. Although I’m not sure it would be a hug then.”

“Nothing short of Equestria’s total destruction could harm you, I’m sure.” Rarity stood, shook herself off, and cast a cleansing spell almost immediately.

“Destruction, creation, it’s all the same super-duper energetic overload, isn’t it?” Pinkie Pie asked rhetorically. She stood up as well and in the process her head infringed on Rarity’s magical aura. “Oooh, it tickles,” Pinkie said, her teeth chattering. She didn’t try to move her head.

Rarity shot a smile at Twilight as she extinguished her spell. “I’m flattered, but I’m not the pony to ask about magical energy surges.”

“It’s not magic,” Pinkie and Twilight said at the same time.

“Yeeeeees,” Rarity acknowledged awkwardly. “Well, anyway, how are you both?”

“I’m good,” Pinkie answered, jittering on the spot even though Rarity’s spell was over. She bounced over to Apple Bloom, delighted to see her umbrella hat put to such practical use, and looking so bright too!

“Me too,” Twilight said. “It’s so nice to see you.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Rarity said distractedly. Half of her attention was ensnared by Scootaloo and Sweetie Bell dripping all over the floor. “Now, we can’t have this,” she chided. “What kinds of guests are we?”

“Uncouth ones?” Sweetie Belle hazarded a guess as Rarity cast her cleansing spell on the two fillies, drying their manes and coats. Sweetie Belle shook out her mane and tail daintily while Scootaloo gave herself a critical twice-over, first checking for magical injuries and secondly wondering if she had been primped in any manner.

“Sorry about that,” Rarity said to Twilight. “The rain is simply dreadful. Anyway, I should explain myself. I thought you could use another set of hooves to help you to re-shelve your books, Twilight, and it was high-time to get out of the boutique. A change of scenery is good for my creative muse.”

“That means a lot considering the weather,” Twilight said bashfully.

Scootaloo groaned dramatically and let her tongue loll out of her mouth. “Uugghhh, give me a break!” A chorus of giggling rewarded her theatrics and she smiled.

“All right, all right,” Twilight relented. “Come on through. Spike was just setting a few things up. We should be good to go.”

As a group they proceeded into the castle towards the library. “Twilight, d’ya think Sweetie Belle could write in the journal about Appleoosa if we have to wait at all today?” Apple Bloom asked.

A fleeting grimace crossed Twilight’s face. “I don’t think there will be a lot of time for that, girls. A lot’s changed since yesterday afternoon.” They passed a sideboard in the hallway and Twilight collected her organisational notes for the day with her magic.

“The lamps do look brighter,” Apple Bloom said courteously.

Pinkie Pie bounced along beside them while Rarity and Twilight exchanged small-talk. Rarity’s presence hadn’t given the Crusaders a chance to talk deeply during their journey to the castle, so they bent their heads together immediately.

“Can you tell me what’s going on now?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“It’s easier to explain once you’ve read the journal,” Apple Bloom said. Since Pinkie was singing to herself Apple Bloom doubted she was listening to them, but one could never tell with Pinkie.

“Yeah, it took me ages to get it yesterday,” Scootaloo confessed.

“I can’t get anything until you tell me what you’re talking about,” Sweetie Belle muttered.

A sequence of bangs interjected, too many to count, becoming one overriding crash as they listened: the sounds of a great many hardcover books hitting the ground and one another. Spike started shouting indistinctly. Twilight gasped and broke into a canter, followed by the other ponies.

When Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo reached the doorway that opened into the library, a cloud of dust was dissipating slowly through the air, like a wing gently and slowly unfurling.

“Whoa,” Scootaloo said. “Twilight wasn’t kidding when she said a lot had changed.”

The contents of every shelf in the library were now scattered across the floor, creating a vast sea of literature. Whatever system they’d previously been categorised by was no longer in effect. Scootaloo’s mind boggled to see so many books open at the same time. Spike was nowhere in sight.

“Try to breathe like Cadance taught you, darling!” Rarity hissed in Twilight’s ear, to no avail.

“Spike!” Twilight yelled, galloping into the room, magic trained on the space in front of her to clear a path. Books rained down on both left and right behind her. “What happened?” she shouted.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Spike answered, sounding fraught. He remained unseen. Twilight looked around frantically.

“Oopsies,” Pinkie Pie said in a small voice.

Twilight rounded on her. “Pinkie!” she rasped. “What do you know about this?” She was extending her right front hoof back and forth from her chest so frequently Rarity was certain she wasn’t implementing Princess Cadance’s technique correctly.

“I think it was Gummy,” Pinkie admitted, anxiously rubbing her hoof in circles against the ground.

“Gummy?” Unless she was in the bath, Twilight rarely gave any thought to the location of Pinkie Pie’s pet alligator. She’d actually forgotten that Pinkie had bounced back into the kitchen earlier with an invisibility spell and Gummy attached to her tail.

“He just loves book forts.”

“He loves book forts?!” Twilight repeated in disbelief. She started mechanically grinding her jaw, a typical growl of vexation emanating from her throat.

“He likes knocking them down.” Pinkie curled in on herself somehow, existing in a smaller space than ponies were supposed to.

Twilight threw her head back and groaned much more loudly and angrily. Apple Bloom noticed Rarity flexing her hind legs and instinctively stepped away, reminded of Applejack readying herself to buck her way to her goal heedless of obstacles.

“Pinkie Pie, perhaps you could locate your errant alligator,” Rarity suggested, keeping her tone low. Pinkie Pie looked at her mournfully. To Rarity’s consternation Pinkie’s mane actually began to deflate in front of her.

Fortunately at that moment a series of muted snapping sounds emerged from the ocean of books. It clearly wasn’t so fortunate for Spike as his familiar shout followed. Pinkie Pie rocketed into the scholarly mountain, a pink contrail framed by flying books forming behind her.

“How were the books arranged before this?” Rarity asked calmly. To her ears, the answering sound that came out of Twilight’s throat bordered on dangerous.

“Stand back, girls. I’m going in,” she declared.

Twilight was working herself into a righteous fury, face turning red and steam pouring out of her ears, when Rarity tackled her abruptly. She rarely appreciated Rarity’s strength, despite having seen Rarity buck a manticore in the face one day after meeting her.

Twilight gave an exclamation of surprise as they crashed to the floor. Twilight stared up at Rarity incredulously. Rarity gazed back down at her in concern.

“Twilight, I’m sorry, but I think it would be best not to immolate Spike, or your entire library.”

Brusque as it was Rarity’s technique successfully snapped Twilight out of her untargeted anger.

“There, there; it’s going to be okay,” Rarity said kindly. “With a bit of hard work and our friends to help we can still make this the most impressive re-shelving day ever! Girls,” Rarity said, now in an authoritarian voice that resonated throughout the library.

They all snapped to attention. “Yes, Rarity?”

“Please fetch Twilight’s checklists and plans. I believe she dropped them when we came in.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders meekly did so.

“Pinkie, can you please put Gummy somewhere that he will not be tempted to break any more book forts?” The way that her voice lifted at the end of her sentence technically indicated a request, but it was not.

“Gotcha!” Pinkie cried, though whether in reply to Rarity or as a sheer expression of satisfaction was unknown. A second pink contrail zipped past the three fillies still standing near the library door. Another downpour of books promptly followed.

“Spike, I think we can agree that this has become an emergency situation,” Rarity said. “We need more ponies.”

“Right!” came Spike’s avid and relieved agreement. “Hey, Owlowiscious?”

Owlowiscious had a variety of perches throughout the castle, including one somewhere in the empty ceiling space of the library. His answering hoot echoed ever so slightly.

“Go and get Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy,” Spike told him. “Appl—”

“Applejack can’t come yet,” Apple Bloom blurted. “But she was gonna come later anyway.”

“Very well,” Rarity said curtly. “Thank you, Owlowiscious.”

The fillies startled despite themselves when Owlowiscious swooped down silently and flew over their heads. Another hoot echoed in the hallway outside the library.

“Feeling any better?” Rarity asked Twilight compassionately.

Twilight had tears in her eyes. Rarity released her, and Twilight rolled onto her front before standing up. She dolefully surveyed the mess in her library. Several seconds passed. Rarity stood by her shoulder, eventually giving her an affectionate nudge.

Twilight turned around and walked back towards the Crusaders. “This is going to be a lot of work, girls.” She repossessed her scrolls and quill gratefully. “Are you still up for it?”

Scootaloo buzzed her wings in preparation. “Ready! Just give us the word.”

“I’m always ready to get my cutie mark,” Apple Bloom affirmed.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, an action that made Rarity frown. Twilight filed those two observations in the back of her mind for later consideration. “I’m ready too, Twilight,” Sweetie Belle said.

Twilight looked at Rarity at the same time as Spike finally emerged, tumbling out of the books into clear space. The books were heaped higher than he was tall. He brushed lint off his body and then looked expectantly at Twilight.

“Are you all right?” she checked.

“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t see Gummy until it was too late.” Spike wrung his claws together.

“Oh Spike, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Twilight slightly emphasised the word ‘your’. “I daresay re-shelving was going to take all day anyway.”

Spike nodded, biting back his compulsion to make an abysmal pun about their schedules being totally booked up for the rest of the day. Neither Rarity nor Twilight would be remotely impressed.

“We are yours to command, Twilight,” Rarity said with a smile.

“Spike, you remember what we’d planned?” asked Twilight.

“Absolutely.” Spike snapped his claws at Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. “You three are on shelving duty with me. We’ll need to clear space around at the bottom of the shelves so we can move the ladders. Let’s go.”

“We should keep an eye out for the journal,” Apple Bloom whispered to the other two as they trotted towards the books.

“It’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Sweetie Belle retorted.

“More like finding hay in a haystack,” Scootaloo remarked.

“That’s why I said ‘keep an eye out’,” Apple Bloom answered.

“Whatever,” Scootaloo responded, grinning with anticipation because they would soon be implementing their re-shelving plan. “Come on!” she encouraged, ploughing into the books with the exuberance of inexperience. The other two followed her.

Spike, thinking of the work ahead, sighed with resignation. He went last, following the path that the Crusaders cleared, happy to benefit from their enthusiasm for as long as it lasted.

“You and I are going to sort the books into piles for shelving according to these categories,” Twilight told Rarity. “Pinkie too.”

Rarity looked at the list Twilight gave her. She was briefly flabbergasted. At least a dozen categories had been penned. Even if Twilight and Spike had done some rudimentary organisation, it would still have been a long day. She collected herself. “You can count on me,” she promised.

“Me too.” Pinkie trotted back into the library. Her mane was still partially flat, but she looked ready to make it up to Twilight. “I put Gummy in your tub. He can spend hours in there.”

“He’ll probably have to,” Rarity said before Twilight could get riled up again. “Well, shall we begin?”







“Whoa,” Rainbow Dash said, scanning the library. “Looks like the sort of mess Tank would make.”

Twilight’s eyelid twitched. “Did you bring Tank?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about animals right now,” Fluttershy murmured in Rainbow’s ear. Owlowiscious had informed her of Gummy’s misdeeds.

Rainbow Dash absorbed both Fluttershy’s comment and Twilight’s glare. “Uh, nah, he was still eating breakfast,” she said nervously. “Takes him hours. Heh. Oh, hey!” she exclaimed suddenly, flying up to the level of the largest Daring Do poster she had hung from the wall months before. “Looking good, Daring!” she praised her hero. “Heh.”

“How can we help, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked.

“Well, you can either join the sorting team, that’s us, or the re-shelving team, that’s them.” Twilight nodded at the activity going on deeper within the library.

Twilight, Pinkie and Rarity had cleared a large space around one of the tables. Each had a pile of books on the table that she was currently sorting. Every category had been assigned a space on the floor, neatly labelled by Twilight, and each space contained a varying amount of books that had been assigned to it.

Apple Bloom stood beside the sorted ‘Pony Society’ books, which she’d split into smaller piles. She bucked the two books at the top of one pile, sending them flying towards Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, balanced on one of the library’s rolling ladders.

“Gosh, that looks… dangerous,” Fluttershy said as Scootaloo hovered briefly and caught one book in her teeth, while Sweetie Belle successfully caught the book with her magic. They each shelved their book and gave Apple Bloom a wave. She bucked two more books in response.

Spike gained momentum on his own rolling ladder by pushing against the shelves. He hurtled towards Apple Bloom, leaping off at the last second.

“Spike!” Fluttershy cried out worriedly.

Spike landed safely on all claws and picked up one of the small piles of books beside Apple Bloom. “Hey, Fluttershy,” he said, apparently not realising that Fluttershy was concerned for his well-being. “What’s up?”

“Oh, um, nothing. I just wanted to say hi,” Fluttershy whispered, blushing.

“Oh, cool. Hi.” Spike ran back to his rolling ladder.

“Forget dangerous, it looks awesome!” Rainbow Dash said eagerly, and swooped down to pick up another group of ‘Pony Society’ books. “Hey Apple Bloom, mind if I help out?”

“I think I’ll help you,” Fluttershy said to Twilight. Her heartrate had still not quite returned to normal.

Twilight was surrounded by scrolls, her magic engaged in three tasks at once. “Thanks, Fluttershy,” she said gratefully. “Sorry to pull you away from whatever you were supposed to be doing.”

“Not at all. This is nice,” Fluttershy said, taking her place on the unused side of the table.

“Nice?” Twilight queried with an annoyed whinny. Rarity shot an incredulous glance at Fluttershy.

“I-I mean, um, all of us working together to do something,” Fluttershy explained quickly.

“Yeah, if only Applejack was here then we’d have the whole gang helping,” Pinkie Pie agreed eagerly. Her mane had long since returned to full curliness. “Talk about making new memories!”

Pinkie was surrounded by books. Since she had to carry sorted books to their assigned floor space, she took them in multiples. Any other pony would have been tired by the back-and-forth. Not Pinkie Pie. She was rather enjoying herself. But Owlowiscious hooted and started carrying her sorted books to their respective piles anyway.

“Even Owlowiscious is joining in,” she pointed out, smiling.

Twilight looked around: at Sweetie Belle’s satisfaction each time she captured a fast-moving book with her magic, at Rainbow enjoying the chance to use her speed to help, at Spike relishing the opportunity to lead the ponies to the relevant shelves each time they completed one category for the time being and moved onto the next. She remembered chasing a cure for Discord’s fake blue flu with Cadance and learning that even a chaotic day one hadn’t planned could become a great experience, if shared with friends.

Her lingering frustration eased. She was still a bit annoyed by the extra work Gummy had caused, but there was no reason not to make the silver lining the most important part of her memory of the day.

“I guess you’re right,” Twilight allowed with a small smile. “Now let’s get back to work.”
> 4. All We Do is Wonder
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Gosh, I didn’t realise how much work re-shelving day was gonna be,” Scootaloo said, sitting down in the vast dining room at lunchtime. They’d been working especially hard for the past hour while Spike was preparing lunch for himself and eight hungry ponies, so they were grateful for the rest.

“Me neither,” said Apple Bloom, hopping onto a seat beside her. “Either of you seen the journal?” she asked. “I haven’t.”

“No,” Sweetie Belle said, wiping her forehead with her foreleg. She wasn’t sweating anymore, but using magic constantly for a few hours was taking a toll on her stamina.

“I said it would be impossible,” Scootaloo said.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom acknowledged. “Just hoped we’d get lucky.”

“It’s kinda weird,” Scootaloo said. “I mean, we left the journal on the table yesterday, and it wasn’t covered in books when we came in. I looked. Why would Twilight move it?”

“Any number of reasons,” Apple Bloom said. “It don’t matter. What matters is it ain’t there.”

“Of course it matters,” Scootaloo answered. She was frustrated, though not with Apple Bloom. “Now would be the perfect time to read it, except it’s not there.”

“Why do you want to read the journal?” Sweetie Belle asked yet again.

“Let’s just tell her,” Scootaloo said to Apple Bloom. “We’ve got time.”

Apple Bloom made an uncertain face, but she didn’t instantly shoot the suggestion down, and Sweetie Belle sat forward eagerly.

Spike strolled into the dining room holding two large plates. Twilight and the other ponies were behind him, each transporting something delicious. Spike announced, “Lunch is served!”

Rarity trotted towards to Sweetie Belle with a large bowl of salad. The other two looked at her sheepishly as Sweetie Belle pouted modestly. “We’ll tell you later, honest,” Scootaloo said just before Rarity reached them.







The next time Twilight permitted everypony to take a break Sweetie Belle seized the initiative. “Okay, so now you can me what you found out from the journal,” she said.

“You guys still haven’t seen it?” Apple Bloom asked. They sat in a triangle, once again grateful for the opportunity to rest.

“No,” Sweetie Belle huffed, while Scootaloo shook her head wearily.

“I guess we can’t use it to explain anyway,” Apple Bloom said.

“Uh huh,” Sweetie Belle agreed readily. Finally she was going to find out what exactly held her friends’ keen interest.

“Hey guys!” Spike called, approaching them.

“Oh, come on!” Sweetie Belle complained, quietly though so Spike didn’t overhear her. 

“I just wanted to say you’re all doing a great job with the books.” Spike smiled broadly. “We couldn’t have gotten this much done without you. I really appreciate the help. Twilight does too.”

“Thanks, Spike,” Apple Bloom said.

“You guys look fed up,” Spike commented.

“We’re just a bit tired,” Scootaloo admitted. She was sure that she never wanted to see another book again in her life. She was not meant to be a librarian.

Spike wasn’t sure Apple Bloom would look so glum if that was the only reason, since she did tough chores on Sweet Apple Acres all the time. He suspected a combination of fatigue and - assuming Applejack and Twilight were right about the interest the Crusaders had in Starlight Glimmer’s cutie unmarking spell - frustration with not having access to the Journal of Friendship.

“Didn’t get your cutie marks, huh?” Spike said sympathetically, hoping to distract them somewhat. “Never mind. You know, I’ve kinda always envied you guys for that.”

All three Crusaders pricked up their ears. “What d’ya mean?” Apple Bloom asked.

Spike leaned against some nearby books. “You get to try out everything with the excuse of searching for your cutie marks. That’s gotta be loads of fun.”

“Sure,” Apple Bloom said. “But looking for our cutie marks is serious business too.”

“It’s the whole reason we’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” said Sweetie Belle, slowly.

“I wouldn’t want to find my cutie mark if it meant giving up being a Crusader.” Spike stretched out his spine, which was aching a bit from how much bending he’d done, and he didn’t think much of how the three fillies stared at him. “Oh, hey, I was gonna make some more snacks,” he said abruptly. “Maybe nachos. How’s that sound?”

A little frown marred Apple Bloom’s face. “Nachos sounds fine,” she murmured.

“Wait,” Scootaloo said quickly. “Do you know where the Journal of Friendship is? Twilight said that Sweetie Belle should write about when we went to Appleoosa. We’ve been so busy we haven’t had a proper chance to look for it, but we haven’t seen it around.”

Spike drummed his claws against the back of his neck. “Sorry, guys. I haven’t seen it either. I wouldn’t worry about it though.”

“I’m not worried,” Sweetie Belle said grumpily. “Um, I mean, I can write in it some other time,” she backtracked when Spike looked askance at her. “So I’m not worried.”

Spike nodded and walked away. “Seriously, can you please tell me what’s going on before someone else wanders past?” Sweetie Belle asked once he was out of earshot.

Scootaloo launched right into the tale, driven by apprehension that Apple Bloom would hesitate again. “Okay. You know your sisters went someplace when that funny map appeared in the throne room?”

Sweetie Belle nodded. It had been a few months ago. Rarity hadn’t told her anything more than that she and her friends had helped other ponies to find real friendship, which was Twilight’s mission as the princess. Sweetie Belle hadn’t thought anything more of it.

Apple Bloom took over. “They went to a village run by a unicorn called Starlight Glimmer. Yesterday I found an entry all about it in the journal. I wasn’t that interested ‘til I saw something called the cutie unmarking.”

Sweetie Belle’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that?”

“It’s a spell Starlight Glimmer used to replace cutie marks.”

“What?” Sweetie Belle said loudly.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo hushed her. Luckily no one else noticed Sweetie Belle’s eruption.

“Applejack told me Starlight Glimmer used magic to replace all the ponies’ cutie marks with an equal sign that made them all the same,” Apple Bloom elaborated. “She said most of the ponies were happy about it.”

Sweetie Belle scrunched her nose again. “About all having the same cutie mark?”

Scootaloo nodded. “It’s weird, right?”

“But our sisters helped them make real friends and then they decided to have their real cutie marks back. I think.” Apple Bloom sighed, aware that her knowledge was lacking. “That’s why I wanted to find the journal, so we could read more about it.”

“I wanna know more about Starlight Glimmer and why she knows how to change cutie marks,” said Scootaloo. “I mean, why would she even want to know how to do that? Not even Princess Luna and Princess Celestia can do that.” Perhaps Starlight Glimmer had disliked her cutie mark, like Trouble Shoes had, but instead of living with it she learned how to change it.

“I bet Twilight wondered too,” Sweetie Belle said. “After all, magic is her special talent. Why don’t we just ask her to tell us about the cutie unmarking and Starlight Glimmer?” she suggested.

“I already asked Applejack,” said Apple Bloom.

“So?”

“Well… I thought it was kinda strange she didn’t tell me about cutie unmarking already,” Apple Bloom said uncomfortably. “‘cause she’d told me Starlight’s name and about helping ponies in the village to make real friends with each other, but not that.”

“Rarity didn’t even tell me her name,” Sweetie Belle said. And Sweetie Belle hadn’t minded - how could she when she didn’t know that the unicorn existed, much less that she possessed a spell specifically related to cutie mark magic? The only other spell related to cutie marks Sweetie Belle had ever even heard of was the one by Starswirl the Bearded that Twilight fixed after its magic gave Rarity Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark. Starlight Glimmer must be a powerful unicorn. 

Scootaloo was rubbing her hoof against the underside of her jaw thoughtfully. “That’s suspicious,” she said.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom looked at her quizzically. Scootaloo surreptitiously glanced at the adult ponies, who were gathered around the table they were using to categorise the books. “You said Applejack went out after you talked to her last night,” she said.

“Yeah, so what?” Apple Bloom asked.

Scootaloo lowered her voice, recognising the sting in her next words. “What if she came here and hid the journal?”

“Why would she do that?” Apple Bloom demanded immediately. 

“If she didn’t want us to know anything else about Starlight Glimmer she might,” Scootaloo said. “Like you said, it’s strange she didn’t talk about the cutie unmarking at all even though she told you Starlight’s name. If Rarity didn’t either… it sorta sounds like they might’ve been hiding it.”

“No way,” Apple Bloom said indignantly. “My sister’s the Element of Honesty. She wouldn’t lie to anyone, especially not me.”

“It’s not lying if you don’t tell somepony everything you do,” Sweetie Belle said quietly.

“Yeah it is,” Apple Bloom scoffed. “And Applejack ain’t a liar.”

“But—” Scootaloo began.

“No!” Apple Bloom stamped her front hoof, madder than a wet hen. “She could’ve been doin’ anything when she went out last night!”

“Let’s just ask my sister and Twilight,” Sweetie Belle interjected, trying not to feel guilty about Apple Bloom’s assertion that not telling someone everything was indistinguishable from lying. Apple Bloom was just upset, that was all.

“What if they’re in on it?” Scootaloo asked.

“Well that’s why we should ask them,” Sweetie Belle answered impatiently.

“This is ridiculous,” Apple Bloom said angrily. As if Applejack had something to do with the journal’s absence! It was so much more likely that Twilight had simply moved the journal to read or write in it - she’d probably read Scootaloo’s words about Trouble Shoes a thousand times already.

Proving it would be easy enough. She stomped towards the older ponies. “Twilight?”







Twilight spoke to Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy about the Journal of Friendship at lunchtime, while helping Spike take food to the dining room. There wasn’t much chance to discuss it in depth, and Twilight forgot about the matter until Spike pointed out that everybody could do with another break.

Now they were gathered around the sorting table. Twilight wondered if anyone besides herself had been properly concentrating on the real task of organising her books, because everypony - except Pinkie Pie, who was strangely silent - apparently had an opinion on Applejack’s decision.

“I don’t get it,” Rainbow Dash was saying, shaking her head. “Applejack’s all about honesty. I mean, she couldn’t tell a lie to save Sweet Apple Acres if it was on fire. How is she happy lying to Apple Bloom herself, never mind getting you to help her?” she asked Twilight.

“It does seem a little odd,” Fluttershy admitted.

“Leaving out some parts of a story isn’t the same thing as lying,” said Rarity.

“Of course it is,” Rainbow disagreed.

“Hardly,” Rarity insisted. “I don’t tell you about every single thing that happens when I’m designing and making a dress. I know you’d find it boring.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell Sweetie Belle about what happened to us? Because you think us losing our cutie marks was boring?” Just thinking about Starlight Glimmer still made Rainbow Dash very angry.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Rarity snapped. “I don’t share everything with my sister, Rainbow. Why didn’t you tell Scootaloo everything?”

“I don’t have to,” Rainbow answered in exasperation. “Scootaloo isn’t my sister.”

“What if she was?” Rarity countered.

“Well, I—I-I’d tell her all about it! She loves hearing about adventures and us being awesome, which we were.” Rainbow performed a few punching motions in mid-air and flew in a fast, tight circle above their heads as she spoke. “We beat Starlight and she went all the way back to those mountains she came from! Good riddance!” Rainbow crossed her forelegs, glaring at Rarity.

“Because that’s such a good lesson to teach your little sister,” Rarity said sarcastically.

“You feel sorry for Starlight?” Rainbow asked heatedly.

“I do,” Fluttershy said so softly that Twilight only heard her because she was standing beside her.

“Applejack’s caught between a rock and a hard place,” Pinkie Pie suddenly said, preventing Rarity from answering Rainbow.

“What?” Rainbow Dash asked, more shocked by the role reversal of Pinkie as a voice of reason than by the actual comment. The other ponies looked at her in surprise as well.

“Telling Apple Bloom that Starlight Glimmer hurt us wouldn’t make her smile,” Pinkie said, eyes on the three fillies. It was a simple statement, yet it lay at the heart of Applejack’s conflict.

“If it was me, I don’t think I’d want to worry her with something she didn’t have to know,” Fluttershy disclosed softly. She looked at Rarity. “Is that why you didn’t tell Sweetie Belle?”

“The truth is it didn’t cross my mind to,” Rarity admitted, flustered. “I didn’t see Sweetie Belle until a few days had passed. I suppose I chose to concentrate on the good things that we did for Sugar Belle and the others, for my own benefit. When it came to telling Sweetie, I told her that story.”

“So you lied to yourself and then you lied to her,” Rainbow Dash stated.

Rarity’s scowl was tremendous. “Stop,” Twilight requested before Rarity could retort. “I don’t think it’s the same, Rainbow.”

She looked over at the Cutie Mark Crusaders. They huddled together conspiratorially, as unknowable to the outside world as any group of close friends. Tenacious, intelligent, loving – yes, Twilight could sympathise with Applejack’s concerns for her sister’s well-being. They were reflected in her friend’s expressions. There was even some uncertainty on Rainbow’s face.

“None of us care for somepony the way that Applejack does,” Twilight said quietly. “We talked about whether it was for the best. She said she thought it was. I don’t think it’s my place to act against her wishes.”

“She made it your place by asking you to help her lie to Apple Bloom,” Rainbow protested.

“She didn’t say she wanted to keep what Starlight did a secret forever,” Twilight answered defensively. “I think she was really just asking for some time to decide what to do. We only just cleaned up winter; you know how much she has to do at this time of year.”

Apple Bloom suddenly stamped her hoof. “I think she might be out of time,” Fluttershy squeaked.

“There’s no evidence that they’re talking about what we’re talking about,” Twilight said, anxiety unfurling in the pit of her stomach.

“Oh come on, Twilight,” Rainbow said, tone scathing. “What else could they be talking about? Spike said they just asked him about the journal.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Twilight answered as Apple Bloom turned around swiftly. A detached part of her mind whispered that they should leave the library: what if somepony bucked something in anger and ruined the progress they’d made? She studiously ignored the idea.

“Twilight?” Apple Bloom’s stride and stare were both irate. The other two Crusaders flanked her, although they looked more like Fluttershy than like their friend. “Where’s the Journal of Friendship?” Apple Bloom asked determinedly.

This is certainly my decision now, thought Twilight.

She was mistaken. “I know why you want the journal, Apple Bloom,” Rarity said, walking around the table. She didn’t look to Twilight for leadership. “And I can tell you suspect Twilight has hidden it from you deliberately. Well, I’m sorry to say it, but you’re right.”

All three Crusaders gasped. Apple Bloom’s face fell. Rarity saw that reaction but her own gaze went to Sweetie Belle and never wavered.

“Sweetie, I didn’t lie to you, but I didn’t tell you the full story about the village that the Cutie Map told us to visit. To be honest, I didn’t think it was important to tell you the whole story. You recall you told me your friend Trouble Shoes was truly happy after you helped him?”

Sweetie Belle nodded.

“Well, the ponies in Starlight’s village were truly happy once we helped them get their cutie marks back, and I thought that was the most important part of our adventure. There are things about how we got there that I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want to remember them myself.” Rarity paused, and then inhaled deeply. “And I’m sorry, but I won’t tell you what those things are, and you can’t read the journal. Not yet. If I tell you, then your friends will deserve to know, and that’s not my decision to make. We’ll have to wait for Applejack to arrive.”

Silence descended on the ponies. No one quite knew what to say. The mood was sombre.

Frankly, Rainbow Dash was impressed by the extent of Rarity’s honesty. She hadn’t expected her to be so blunt about potentially not letting the fillies read the journal.

She noticed that Scootaloo was looking at her morosely. The expression filled Rainbow with surprise, and then confusion, which soon morphed into concern. “Scootaloo—?” she started, but Apple Bloom interrupted her.

“Did my sister tell you to hide the journal?” she asked Twilight, voice wavering with disbelief.

Twilight frantically recollected all of the friendship lessons she and the others had learned together. Was there one about what to do when you’d made the right choice yet still hurt somepony’s feelings? She couldn’t remember one. Had she made the wrong choice in supporting Applejack?

“I’m sorry, Apple Bloom,” she apologised quietly, the omission serving as confirmation.

“I can’t believe it,” Apple Bloom said. She looked at Sweetie Belle unsteadily, stirring her and Scootaloo to move closer in support.

The tension was broken and a new one introduced by a voice from the hallway. “Howdy, y’all.”

Applejack was walking towards the library, smiling tiredly. Her coat was slightly matted. Although it looked as though she had wrung her hat and mane out, both still occasionally dripped. 

“Didn’t realise everyone would be here,” Applejack said. “Hope you don’t mind sharing with an extra hungry pony.” She indicated Spike, who was ambling along next to her holding a plate brimming with nachos.

A second passed as she took in the gloomy expressions on her friends’ faces. “What’s wrong?” she asked instantly, coming to a halt.

“You couldn’t have got here five minutes ago?” Rainbow Dash complained.

Anger flared anew inside Apple Bloom. “I can’t believe you told Twilight to hide the journal from us!” she shouted at her sister, causing Fluttershy to wince.

Despite telling herself all day that she had nothing to worry about, Applejack had been apprehensively picturing a moment like this. After the day’s work was held up by Granny slipping as she stubbornly insisted on seeing to the chickens, her mind’s eye had only grown more dramatic. So Applejack didn’t flinch at the volume of Apple Bloom’s voice. “I had my reasons,” she said, gritting her teeth.

“Like what?” Apple Bloom demanded, storming towards her. Spike took a few steps back, protecting his plate of nachos.

“You didn’t know a lick about the cutie unmarking and you didn’t need to,” Applejack answered, voice strained. “All that matters is Starlight Glimmer won’t be casting her cutie unmarking spell on ya ‘cause she’s gone, thank goodness.”

“Starlight’s gone?” Apple Bloom repeated as though it was new information.

Glad she’d kept a lid on her desire to raise her voice, Applejack demanded, “Twilight Sparkle, I want ya to tell me what the hay is going on here.”

Twilight shifted uneasily. “I’m—”

“It is I who is responsible for this state of affairs,” Rarity cut in, stepping forward.

Applejack narrowed her eyes, irritated by Rarity’s fancy-talk and flair for the dramatic. “How’s that, then?” she asked. She regretted not having thought to visit Rarity after speaking with Twilight the previous evening.

“Twilight explained your situation to us,” Rarity said.

“She did not!” Apple Bloom exclaimed.

“You hush now,” Applejack instructed sternly.

Rarity continued. “Twilight told us that she’d written about Starlight Glimmer in the Journal of Friendship, and that Apple Bloom read a little of it yesterday while she was here.”

“A little is right,” Apple Bloom muttered irritably. She wished she’d read more at the time.

Despite the stubborn streak that ran through every member of the Apple family, Applejack wasn’t in the habit of shouting at her little sister. She quashed the urge now in respect for that. “And?” she ground out, still uncertain as to how much Apple Bloom had learned while she’d been darn-foolish enough to let her out of her sight.

“Twilight then explained you didn’t want Apple Bloom to read any more in case… certain things came to light. I’d like you to understand that I agree with your caution, by the way.”

Although Applejack was somewhat soothed by Rarity’s confession, Apple Bloom now had another pony to glare at venomously, and Sweetie Belle started frowning as well.

“It seems that our sisters became suspicious about the journal’s absence over the course of the day,” said Rarity.

No one noticed Scootaloo flush except Rainbow Dash.

“They didn’t accuse Twilight of hiding the journal, but it was clearly in their minds,” Rarity stated. “I decided it would be less hurtful all around if I admitted that Twilight did so. Apple Bloom was the one who asked if she did it because you asked her to.”

“And Twilight said she was sorry which means you did!” Apple Bloom erupted again. “Why won’t you let us read the journal? I don’t understand the problem.”

“The problem is Starlight Glimmer’s meaner than a wet panther,” Applejack snapped. Both Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie made consenting noises.

“You didn’t say you didn’t like her last night,” Apple Bloom complained.

“Kinda thought I’d made that obvious from the beginning,” Applejack remarked sourly. Apple Bloom frowned because her sister had a point.

“Why is she bad?” It was Scootaloo’s turn to sound annoyed. “You told Apple Bloom the ponies in her village were happy to all have the same cutie mark. If they were happy it doesn’t matter if we think it’s strange, does it?”

Applejack ignored this, albeit guiltily. Outright disagreement would lead to more questions. “There’s some things you’re better off not knowin’,” she said instead.

“But you have to tell us!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed shrilly. “We have to know!”

“Why?” Rarity asked. By her glare it was apparent she was questioning Rainbow Dash as well as her sister.

Sweetie Belle looked at Rarity desperately. “Because—because if we don’t know everything about cutie marks we could end up with a cutie mark that we hate just like Trouble Shoes did.” Her voice dropped unhappily.

Both Applejack and Rarity jolted. Neither of them had linked Trouble Shoes and Starlight Glimmer in that fashion. Rarity gave a little nicker of distress and trotted over to her sister, feeling that she should’ve anticipated the concern. “Sweetie Belle, I told you that won’t happen,” she said, trying to think of something more reassuring to add. Nothing came to mind.

Clearly Apple Bloom and Scootaloo hadn’t made the connection either, as they were both gawking at Sweetie Belle. “Oh my gosh, you’re totally right!” Apple Bloom cried. “Applejack, you have to tell us! Please.”

“Now, calm down, sugarcube,” Applejack said, trying to stave off full-blown panic.

“Calm down? How can I calm down when my own sister is lying to me?”

Applejack gasped. “I ain’t lying to ya!”

“Yes you are!”

“See, I told you,” Rainbow Dash said, feeling vindicated. “Hiding the full story is just the same as lying in the end.” She hoped Scootaloo would realise she was on their side. But she couldn’t interpret Scootaloo’s expression.

“Oh, Rainbow, maybe you shouldn’t…” Fluttershy started quietly.

A series of huffy noises came out of Rarity’s mouth as she tried and failed to reign in her temper. “Honestly, Rainbow Dash—”

“Don’t, Rarity, please,” Fluttershy pleaded. In the current atmosphere harsh words would fester like food going rotten, feeding resentments like the ones which ultimately led Fluttershy to mistake cruelty for assertiveness.

Rarity exhaled angrily, and Fluttershy’s ears flattened. But Rarity heeded her advice. “Are you even trying to see both sides of the debate?” she asked Rainbow.

“Sure, you have concerns, big deal!” Rainbow shrugged scornfully. “The cat’s out of the bag. It’s that simple. We should tell them the whole truth. They can handle it.”

“Yeah,” the three fillies approved.

“Ya can’t always get what you want, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said with conviction.

“Besides, I think it’s clear they can’t just ‘handle it’,” Rarity harrumphed, much to the disdain of the younger ponies.

“I think they have a right to know more,” Twilight said cautiously. She’d stayed silent until that point partly to re-think her own series of decisions, partly because she’d had nothing to add, and partly because she hoped observing the repertoire would help her to think of a solution.

Applejack snorted, “That so?” and Rarity said, “Do tell, darling,” in a voice that wasn’t entirely kind.

“Yes,” Twilight replied. “But I realise it’s not my decision to make. What do you think, Pinkie?” she asked.

“Me?” Pinkie looked surprised to have been included. She’d shrunk in on herself again, similar to earlier when Twilight vented her anger over Gummy’s actions.

“It isn’t Pinkie Pie’s decision either!” Rarity exclaimed.

“Rarity, please,” Twilight beseeched her. Though Rarity gnashed her teeth and muttered to herself, she subsided.

“Pinkie, please tell us what you think,” Twilight repeated. She planned to ask each quiet spectator what they thought. As long as Twilight could keep the discussion from degenerating into further arguments, she was sure everyone would calm down. Then they’d be able to establish a course of action.

“I don’t know,” Pinkie said. “I thought that it was better for them not to know but now I just want everypony to stop arguing. I think that means telling them everything that happened, not a sugar-coated version, even though sugar coatings make things tastier.” She licked her lips nervously.

“Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash groaned, exasperated. Rarity grimaced rolled her eyes. Even Fluttershy looked slightly disconcerted. Applejack, meanwhile, was surprised by how much it rankled that Pinkie Pie opposed her.

“What, I’m hungry,” Pinkie said, with a quavering smile of embarrassment. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled piteously.

Now confident that no-pony was about to accidentally knock the plate from his grasp, Spike entered the conversation. “Uh, yeah, we could eat while we’re talking about this.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Spike,” Twilight agreed. “What do you—?”

“You know what my sister’s not telling me?” Apple Bloom demanded in amazement.

Spike chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You told Spike and not us?” Apple Bloom said angrily to Applejack.

“Hey!” Spike objected. Still, he felt surprisingly bad about being in the know when the Crusaders were not.

“I didn’t tell Spike anything,” Applejack answered with a grimace.

“I told Spike,” Twilight said defensively. “He’s my assistant. My studying doesn’t go as well without his help.”

“And I’m your sister,” Sweetie Belle complained to Rarity, who moaned quietly.

Twilight frowned, and reminded herself of her ultimate goal. “Let’s go back into the library and eat these nachos. Spike, what do you think we should do?”

Even though Spike discerned Twilight’s reasoning, he wished that she hadn’t. Knowing for certain - as he did right now - that his honest opinion would upset at least two of his friends was unpleasant. He hoped Rarity would remember that he was her favourite dragon and dear friend.

“Well, uh… I think you should tell them.” He persisted with an explanation though it was tricky to tread lightly when he hadn’t been present for the adventure. “I mean, isn’t part of what you’re afraid of that you-know-who would do you-know-what to these guys? But they don’t have their cutie marks, so they’re totally safe. I’m sorry, Rarity. And Applejack.”

“It’s all right, Spike,” Rarity said quietly. She didn’t feel any more betrayed than when Pinkie sided against them. Somehow, their opinion was the one in the minority. That they had the majority say didn’t comfort her. Perhaps she was mistaken in her beliefs.

Spike managed to reheat the nachos with some carefully applied dragon-fire, and he placed the plate on one of the tables with a downhearted glance at Rarity.

Only Pinkie seemed to notice the nachos. “Thanks, Spike,” she whispered. She concentrated on eating rather than on the argument. She wasn’t sure if she was going to cry.

Sweetie Belle thought the most important part of Spike’s words was that the older ponies were afraid. The cutie unmarking was sounding more sinister by the minute. Meanwhile Apple Bloom pondered moodily why their lack of cutie marks was something that could possibly keep them safe.

If we’re safe and they’re afraid it must have been a doozy of an adventure, thought Scootaloo. A flash of lightning and consequent thunder roll which rumbled outside the castle reminded her of the wild woods outside Appleoosa. She shivered.

“Fluttershy, what do you think?” asked Twilight.

Fluttershy looked steadfastly at the floor. “I-I don’t think anything.”

“Fluttershy, come on,” Rainbow Dash encouraged vehemently. “You must think something.”

The girls’ safety was paramount. Fluttershy didn’t trust the fillies to understand the danger of certain situations. But Fluttershy was a naturally fearful pony; she would think that. Her first-hoof experience came from the business with the cockatrice, but plenty of time had passed since then. The fillies had grown up so much. They were likely far better at identifying danger now. 

Fluttershy didn't feel it was her place to voice this opinion. “Well, no, um, whatever everyone agrees on is fine,” she said.

“Fluttershy!” Rainbow Dash, frowning fiercely, swooped down and landed beside the other pegasus.

Intimidated by her friend’s speed, Fluttershy squeaked.

“Fluttershy, come on,” Rainbow repeated, curbing her forceful tone. “Tell us what you think.”

Twilight nodded appreciatively.

Fluttershy whimpered. “Oh—I’m just not sure. I want to protect the girls. But m-maybe it’s best to tell the truth, even though S-Starlight’s magic was scary. But, um, if we do that, then we should tell them everything.” She’d prefer to err on the side of caution given the danger Starlight Glimmer represented, and that meant making it completely clear how terrifying Starlight was.

The more everypony said the more cornered Applejack felt. “Well, I don’t agree with any of y’all,” Applejack said resolutely. She could feel her stubborn streak taking hold.

“Nor do I,” said Rarity, although with less conviction.

“Why not?” Apple Bloom asked, sounding hurt.

“I just don’t,” Applejack declared.

“I’m not a foal,” Apple Bloom said, her own stubbornness flaring. “Why can’t you just trust me?”

“Trust you!” Applejack shouted without warning, shocking everyone. Now you’ve gone and done it, she thought, closing her eyes in despair.

The silence around her was filled with unspoken questions. Applejack collected her wits, resigned to her fate. She wasn’t the best at explaining herself, but now she had to try.

“For all I know,” she said slowly to Apple Bloom, “you could learn about Starlight Glimmer and decide the best thing to do is to walk right out of Ponyville and try to find her, without breathin’ a word to anypony other than your friends here. Matter of fact, you’d probably all go together, and I don’t know if that’s better or worse.” Applejack sighed. “I can’t trust you, Apple Bloom,” she said reluctantly. “Just last week the three of y’all went runnin’ off to find Trouble Shoes.”

Sweetie Belle was immediately ashamed. Scootaloo looked remorseful. “We helped Trouble Shoes!” Apple Bloom countered indignantly.

“That ain’t the point,” Applejack answered. “Just ‘cause it worked out fine don’t mean you were right to go wandering off. I was worried sick about all of ya!” Simply remembering the fear she’d felt when she thought her sister had been filly-napped caused her heart to beat wildly.

“I can take care of myself,” Apple Bloom answered. She’d proven so on multiple occasions.

“I’m tryin to keep you safe, don’t you understand?” Applejack looked imploringly at her friends, who felt more like her adversaries at this point. “Don’t any of you understand?”

“I do,” Fluttershy murmured. Applejack’s description of the Crusaders’ behaviour was exactly what she’d feared. Twilight also thought that given the prior evidence Applejack had good reason to be concerned.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Rainbow asked Applejack. “We can totally make sure that doesn’t happen.” She flew over the table so she could quickly put a reassuring hoof on Scootaloo’s back. “Listen, I’m with you guys, all right?” she said, smiling. “You three just gotta promise you aren’t going to do anything crazy after we tell you what happened.”

Applejack whinnied angrily. “I didn’t say we’re gonna tell them!”

“So you’re just going to keep lying?” Rainbow Dash asked, with a hint of contempt in her voice.

Guilt, fear and anger amalgamated in Applejack’s heart. She was honestly offended by the interpretation, but given the way Apple Bloom was glaring at her, she had to consider that Rainbow Dash might have a point.

“Applejack, can I talk with you?” Rarity asked.

Applejack didn’t answer, breathing heavily.

“Please?” Rarity added.

Applejack grunted in begrudging assent. She shot Rainbow Dash a warning glance as the two stepped into the hallway.

Rarity didn’t stop walking, however, and Applejack stalked after her in a combination of surprise and annoyance. Still Rarity remained silent, as though she wasn’t interested. Applejack eventually snorted. If Rarity wanted to play coy, fine. Applejack would beat her at her own game.

They walked from the library to the throne room. Rarity rubbed her hoof against the blue velveteen cushion on her throne, apparently lost in thought. Applejack glared at the unmarked spot on the map where Starlight Glimmer’s village lay, in the foothills of the Crystal Mountains beyond Manehattan.

The gentle tinkling of magic drew Applejack’s attention away from the map. Magic wreathed Rarity’s horn, creating an unobtrusive beam of light. Rarity looked at the chandelier hanging above them, and Applejack resentfully did so as well. She couldn’t even see the memories framed by the gems.

Rarity’s light struck a gem full in its face. The air between the chandelier and the map began to waver as an image flickered into existence. Rarity was casting some kind of projection spell. The image grew in size and clarity until they could both see the past clearly, depicting the aftermath of the race at the Sisterhooves Social: the two of them and their younger sisters. All four were smiling.

The heat of anger in Applejack’s cheeks began to dissipate. Still, she snorted again. “I don’t appreciate bein’ manipulated, Rarity,” she said gruffly.

Rarity cleared her throat and extinguished her spell. “I understand your concerns, believe me,” she started carefully. “But at this point I think our friends are right. If we don’t tell the girls what happened, they may not forgive us for keeping it from them.”

“As long as my sister’s safe I can live with that.”

Rarity put a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder compassionately. “She’ll be safe regardless, Applejack. All of our friends will help ensure they don’t run off on some hare-brained quest looking to capture Starlight Glimmer.”

“My cousin Braeburn tried to stop ‘em and it didn’t do any good,” Applejack countered.

“Well… yes, I see your point. But he was only one pony. There are seven of us. Nine if we include Granny Smith and Big McIntosh.”

“We can’t spend every second of the day watching the three of them.”

“Perhaps not, but…” Rarity hesitated before continuing. “Well, just between the two of us, after everything that happened in Appleoosa Sweetie Belle hasn’t been feeling entirely up to crusading. I believe she can keep Scootaloo and Apple Bloom from doing anything rash.”

The divulgence made Applejack’s ears twitch. “That why she didn’t join Apple Bloom and Scootaloo here yesterday?” she asked, and Rarity nodded. Applejack said, “I thought you hadn’t finished your dresses for Toity Hoity.” She deliberately mispronounced his name.

“No. I mention it because Sweetie opened up to me about it. It took a little cajoling, but only a little. And I’d rather she be frightened, but still feel able to talk to me, than feel aggrieved.”

Applejack certainly understood that. Not that she was happy about it given the current circumstances.

“I’ve always looked to you for guidance about how to be a good sister, and you’ve never lead me astray,” Rarity admitted, voice soft. “Perhaps I can do the same for you now. I remember that you once told me that being sisters is a give and a take. I had to learn to compromise.”

“I remember too,” Applejack sighed, touched by Rarity’s confession. “Do ya really think this is similar?”

Rarity nodded. “I do wish the girls hadn’t learned of the cutie unmarking,” she said. Then she lifted her head, as though steeling herself for a challenge. “But I think we must make the best of a bad situation. However, if you disagree, I will support you.”

“You will?” Applejack asked sceptically. “Loyalty is Rainbow’s thing.”

“Oh please, Applejack. Just because she bore the Element doesn’t mean she has a monopoly on it.” Rarity smiled at her. “Why, you’re one of the most generous and loyal ponies I’ve ever met.”

“Shucks, Rarity,” Applejack answered, torn between feeling genuinely complimented and suspecting Rarity of more subtle manipulation. “Flattery won’t get you nowhere.”

Rarity scrunched her nose fractionally. Applejack’s dialect gave the saying the opposite meaning to what she intended. Nevertheless, Rarity chose to ignore the mistake.

“It isn’t flattery if it’s true, darling,” she said. “So what is your decision?”

Applejack wanted her little sister to be happy and carefree. She always had wanted that, and always would. By and large she’d been able to keep Apple Bloom from worrying unnecessarily with staunch support and the occasional lullaby. What Rarity was suggesting would completely disrupt those wishes. Additionally, Applejack was certain that Apple Bloom would eventually forgive her with withholding information. They were sisters.

On the other hoof, family life might be unpleasant for quite some time, needlessly according to Rarity. In spite of her deep misgivings, Apple Bloom’s resentful frown wouldn’t leave Applejack’s mind. If Applejack let her fears dictate how she treated her sister, for how long would that expression linger?

“Fine,” Applejack groaned unwillingly. “I’ll trust ya on this.”

“Oh, thank you.” Rarity quickly nuzzled Applejack’s neck. Applejack nudged her away sullenly. The chill of apprehension had settled somewhere deep inside her body and it wasn’t budging.

“You mustn’t be downcast,” Rarity chided. But Applejack’s consequent glare indicated she wasn’t prepared to be gracious in defeat. Rarity smiled apologetically: she’d take the victory without asking for anything more yet.

“I… Am I a liar, Rarity?” Applejack asked her quietly.

“Not yet,” Rarity answered, though she was sure Rainbow Dash would disagree.

“I’ve got such a bad feeling about this, Rarity,” Applejack disclosed.

“We’ll manage it together, with our friends,” Rarity assured her.

“I hope so.”

“As do I.”
> 5. Wake
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just as the parched soil of Ponyville eagerly absorbed the first few hours of rainfall, so too did Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom initially absorb the story of Starlight Glimmer and the cutie unmarking.

Rainbow Dash came to check on Rarity and Applejack in the throne room. The fillies predictably followed, with Spike, Twilight, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie right behind them. As soon as she realised Applejack had acquiesced to tell Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo about their adventure Pinkie Pie took full and immediate advantage of the Cutie Map and the furniture to dramatically demonstrate the train journey and how she approached Starlight’s village. The others, entertained, silently agreed it would be easier to stay in the throne room for the recounting.

Spike grumbled about having to carry the nachos back across the castle and reheat them yet again as if he was a waiter rather than a friend. Heartfelt thanks soothed his irritation. Anyway, it was great to sit down for a while.

The fillies rolled their eyes fondly when Rarity denounced the town’s non-existent sense of design, giggled at Pinkie Pie’s dramatic retelling of how she ate a dozen of the worst muffins ever, and their eyes grew wide at the idea of a lofty vault containing dozens of cutie marks.

“I’d never seen anything like it,” Rarity said, consciously echoing Twilight’s observation at the time. “There must have been at least a hundred cutie marks in the vault.”

“Wow,” Apple Bloom breathed.

“But that wasn’t all. There was a staff there too that Starlight claimed she used to ‘free ponies from their cutie marks’.” Rainbow flapped her forelegs and then nickered contemptuously. 

“You said it was Starlight’s magic that replaced cutie marks, not a staff,” Sweetie Belle recalled, puzzled.

“Exactly. But we didn’t know that then, although I got a bit suspicious when she said it,” Twilight said. “I didn’t remember anything about the eastern mage Meadowbrook having an enchanted staff. I studied Meadowbrook a lot when we came home, actually; she had some fascinating ideas about the inherent magical power of objects.”

Spike snickered. Rainbow Dash affectionately rolled her eyes at Twilight, who tittered bashfully. “What Twilight’s basically trying to say is Starlight lied to us,” Rainbow explained.

Apple Bloom’s eyes slid in Applejack’s direction. Though her anger dissipated throughout the course of the story, she’d maintained her distance from her older sister, who’d taken a seat on her throne and was yet to contribute to the tale in any meaningful way.

Applejack noticed and said grimly, “Darn right she did.”

Pinkie was standing below Rainbow Dash on the Cutie Map itself. “Anyway, then she grabbed the staff and started spinning it around,” she said, rotating one hoof demonstrably.

“Yeah, she wasn’t happy,” Rainbow Dash said, pulling a face.

Pinkie awkwardly traced her hoof along Equestria’s eastern shoreline. “Then I gave away that Sugar Belle and the others missed their cutie marks. I didn’t know it would make her so upset.”

“You could hardly have known what she was about to do, darling,” Rarity reassured Pinkie.

“I’m pretty sure she was just waiting for an excuse,” Rainbow Dash agreed in a low voice. “Ow!” she exclaimed as she bumped her head against one of the low-hanging chandelier gems. She must have been flapping her wings more forcefully than usual.

With a clink, Rainbow Dash took the gem in hoof to scrutinise its memory more closely. The gem depicted the camping trip to Winsome Falls where Rainbow first took Scootaloo under her wing: six ponies smiling in front of prismatic cascades. They’d chosen to imbue the gems with events Twilight hadn’t been present for but had helped the rest learn important lessons about friendship and family. Such moments were in keeping with Twilight’s self-appointed mission; as Princess Celestia pointed out, the Princess of Friendship wasn’t much without her friends.

“An excuse to do what?” Apple Bloom asked uneasily.

So this is it, Applejack thought, and she inhaled audibly both to better stomach the magnitude of the approaching moment and to indicate she wished to speak. “Rarity tried to say sorry, as if it were our fault Sugar Belle and Party Favour weren’t happy. But Starlight Glimmer wasn’t havin’ it.”

“I stepped away - Starlight was making me uncomfortable, you see – and there was a pony standing right behind me,” Rarity said. Apprehension had flooded her body when she bumped into Double Diamond. She looked over her own withers impulsively, almost expecting to see a zealous grin.

“There were ponies all around us,” Fluttershy said in a near whisper. Pinkie hopped off the map onto Twilight’s throne and bounced over Spike’s head to the ground, so she could trot over to put a consoling foreleg around Fluttershy’s withers.

“It was a trap,” Applejack said. “They weren’t lettin’ us out of that cave with our cutie marks.”

“W-what do you mean?” Scootaloo asked. Rainbow Dash was still hovering above the Cutie Map, so Scootaloo sidled towards Fluttershy and Pinkie.

“It was a trap to take our cutie marks away,” Twilight repeated. “I wanted to use my shield magic to protect everypony.” She spread her wings and suddenly teleported, reappearing above the Cutie Map in a flash. She glared down at the other ponies, and Sweetie Belle squeaked as magic sparked dangerously at the tip of Twilight’s horn.

Twilight’s facial expression became disconsolate. “But I wasn’t fast enough,” she told everyone, slowly descending to sit on her throne. “Starlight cast the cutie unmarking spell on me, and once she’d taken my cutie mark she cast it on everypony else too.”

All three Crusaders gasped and stared at their elders with dismay. Twilight folded her wings and looked elsewhere, which caused Spike to worriedly interlace his claws.

“I know y’all think I’ve been lying – and I admit, you could have a point – but I’m being honest here,” Applejack said. She wrapped her tail around her backside tightly, covering her right cutie mark from sight. “That spell hurt like no-pony’s business. Kinda like a snakebite and a pulling a muscle, only about a thousand times worse. That’s what I didn’t want ya to know.”

Sweetie Belle whimpered. She wanted to hide her face against Rarity’s barrel but she also didn’t want to miss any important facial expressions.

Rarity stroked Sweetie Belle’s crest and mane reassuringly. She actually remembered very little of the unmarking itself. Starlight Glimmer’s self-satisfied tone and smirk, however, were a familiar memory.

“It hurt way worse than when you fall over or hit your head or eat so many terrible muffins you think you’re gonna explode,” Pinkie Pie said, with none of her physical zest. Her haunches ached.

“It was horrible,” Fluttershy murmured.

“I’m going to go and make some more nachos,” Spike excused himself abruptly. He hurried out of the throne room. Taken aback, Twilight and Rarity glanced at one another.

“Was Starlight sorry for hurting you?” Apple Bloom asked, swallowing.

Rainbow Dash snorted. The expression on Apple Bloom’s face made Applejack resist her desire to do the same. “Not at all,” Twilight asserted quietly.

Fluttershy extended her wing towards Scootaloo as she sat down. Scootaloo gratefully huddled under the psychological protection Fluttershy’s wing offered. Rainbow Dash immediately joined them, a little frustrated. Sure, it made sense that Fluttershy would make such a sisterly gesture, but Scootaloo’s morose expression made her wish she’d thought to do it first. Scootaloo peered up at her from beneath the feathers of Fluttershy’s wing, so Rainbow Dash ruffled her mane. She was relieved to see and feel some of Scootaloo’s tension ebb away.

“Starlight Glimmer cast that spell and not one of us could fight it,” Applejack said, looking at her little sister. “She took our real cutie marks away and locked ‘em in the vault, and left us with those equal signs y’all know about. But they weren’t just for show. We lost our talents; even lost some of our individuality. I couldn’t make countryisms. I couldn’t buck properly. I wasn’t even lookin’ forward to next apple-bucking day.”

Alarmed and perplexed, Apple Bloom inhaled with a judder.

“Starlight told us life was so much better without different cutie marks,” Pinkie Pie said before blowing a disdainful raspberry. “Puh-lease.”

“Then she told us we’d spend the rest of our lives in the village,” Twilight said. 

The notion was the final straw for Apple Bloom. Her older sister had been hurt and told she could never come home. The idea of their family home without Applejack was one of the worst things ever, and to think of her without her love for Sweet Apple Acres—

Apple Bloom broke into a gallop and jumped into Applejack’s waiting embrace.

“The ponies took us back into town,” Twilight said. “We were put in a house to undergo Starlight Glimmer’s equalisation process.” She gritted her jaw. Pinkie hopped closer to Twilight with the plate of nachos, offering her the final one. Though it was cold, Twilight appreciated the gesture, but the nacho reminded her of Spike’s worrying departure.

“Didn’t y’all try to get away?” Apple Bloom asked throatily. Applejack could feel her sister’s heart thumping. 

“Sure tried, sugarcube,” Applejack replied. Starlight Glimmer had magically restrained her when she refused to stop trying to buck her way to freedom. “But we were too weak.” She stamped her hoof against the map.

“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash squirmed. Her flank and her wings had let her down. Until that day she’d always been fantastic at flying, and found being reduced to an average flyer far more distressing than simply losing her wings (as happened the first time she met Discord). To alleviate her discomfort, she took to the air, flying once around the room before returning to hover over her fellow pegasi.

“What’s equalisation?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“They played a tape about their philosophy,” Rarity replied, using her magic and a napkin to wipe away Sweetie Belle’s tears. “I don’t recall how Starlight phrased it…”

“I do,” Twilight said darkly. “‘To excel is to fail,’” she quoted. “‘Free yourself from your cutie mark. You’re no better than your friends.’”

“They were trying to brainwash us,” Fluttershy said softly, as Applejack felt Apple Bloom shiver.

Sweetie Belle sniffled audibly. Rarity decided the time for gloom was over. She kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Now, dry your tears, Sweetie,” she instructed. “I know it sounds horrible, and it was. But we stand here now as testament that it didn’t work!” She pranced on the spot and flourished her mane.

Scootaloo’s spirits were raised by Rarity’s display. “Oh, yeah,” she recalled sheepishly. “But how’d you fix everything?”

“Well, there were many facets at play, but I think Rainbow Dash would say it was because somepony was particularly awesome,” Rarity said, smiling in Fluttershy’s direction.

“Fluttershy?” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo said together.

“Oh, my.” Fluttershy hung her head demurely. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“Are you kidding? You were definitely awesome!” Pinkie enthused, totally on board with lifting the despondent mood. She bounced up and down on the spot. “As awesome as Sugar Belle’s muffins and cupcakes on Monday and that time you made the tornado! Whoosh!”

“Well, almost as radical,” Rainbow Dash agreed playfully. “That was pretty epic.”

Hidden behind the pink curtain of her mane, a timid blush flared on Fluttershy’s cheeks. “Really, girls, I think we owe it to some other ponies as well,” she said.

“I already said Sugar Belle was awesome, silly. But I guess I can say it again.” Pinkie Pie reared back and spread her front hooves with a grin. A selection of colourful streamers burst above her mane in a tiny explosion. “As awesome as Sugar Belle’s muffins and cupcakes on Monday and when you made the tornado. Yay!” she cried in a near-perfect imitation of Fluttershy.

Everypony except Apple Bloom giggled. Applejack soon stopped chuckling. Her fears weren’t exactly laid to rest by the way that Apple Bloom clung to her leg.

“Yes,” Rarity agreed with Fluttershy and Pinkie, “we wouldn’t have gotten far without our four new friends…”

They recounted the rest of their adventure with renewed cheer. Twilight was fascinated to hear her friends’ personal opinions on how the equality cutie marks had affected them. However, the undue praise she received for her role discomfited more than flattered her. Her well-practised speech about the benefits of friendship had fallen spectacularly on deaf ears, twice. So while Pinkie enthusiastically re-enacted how Starlight Glimmer’s hypocrisy was exposed, Twilight excused herself to track down Spike.

Before going to the kitchen she permitted herself a few minutes to review the state of the library, since it was located near the throne room. The task of re-shelving was by no means complete, though Twilight could probably organise and shelve the rest of the books by herself within a few hours. Still, she noticed that several of the ordered book piles were smaller than before.

Twilight swiftly deduced that Owlowiscious or Spike must be responsible, possibly both. “Spike, are you in here?” she queried. “Owlowiscious?”

An answering hoot, muffled by objects between the origin of the sound and Twilight’s position, came from further within the library. Twilight checked behind a couple of filled bookshelves. Owlowiscious perched on the lowest rung of a rolling ladder, head-height with Spike, who slouched against the bookshelf with his tail in his lap. A Power Ponies comic lay abandoned at Spike’s feet. Aside from Spike and his comic, the floor of the first half of the aisle was completely clear. Further down the aisle some of the books on the floor had been divided into separate piles.

“You said you were going to make more nachos,” Twilight said. “What are you doing? Did you do all this instead?”

Spike sighed heavily. “No. I just organised those ones over there. The rest was Owlowiscious being perfect, as usual.”

“What’s wrong?” Twilight stepped closer, sharing a concerned look with Owlowiscious.

After a few pensive moments, Spike asked her quietly, “If I wasn’t your assistant, would you have told me about Starlight Glimmer?”

Owlowiscious spread his wings and took off gracefully. His wingbeats added to the soft background percussion of thrumming rain and their friends’ barely-audible voices.

“What do you mean?” Twilight lay down beside the dragon, eyebrows low over her eyes.

“You said you told me about the cutie unmarking because your studying doesn’t go as well without my help,” Spike said around the lump in his throat. “And that’s nice and all. But why didn’t you say the spell was painful? Don’t you… trust me? Did you only tell me about the whole thing because you couldn’t study such a big spell without my help?”

“Of course I trust you,” Twilight said. “You’re my best and oldest friend, Spike.”

“So why didn’t you tell me in the first place? Did you think I couldn’t handle it either?” Spike huffed.

“I knew you could handle it, Spike.” Twilight considered her words, fidgeting as she did. She crossed and uncrossed her forelegs, and then sighed. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I wouldn’t have been upset,” Spike lied. That a painful spell had been cast on all of his friends without their permission made him both clench his claws and blink away tears. That was exactly why he’d left the throne room in the first place. He wasn’t ready to admit this out loud to Twilight on top of his self-doubt though.

“I didn’t want to talk about that aspect of the unmarking for another reason either,” Twilight said dispassionately, letting the denial pass by without comment. “I can’t concentrate on my studies and my duties if I’m getting distracted by the fact the spell hurt a bit. Researchers have to stay detached and unbiased.”

“But, Twilight, I’m your friend,” Spike contended. “I should’ve done something more to help you. I could’ve done some more chores around the castle, o-or been more supportive when we were studying.” Refusing to spend any time after dark at Princess Celestia and Princess Luna’s former castle was just one example of how he had failed Twilight.

“You were totally supportive, Spike, and you did help me, just by being yourself.” Twilight smiled at Spike. “I’m okay.”

Spike kicked at the comic that lay at his feet. The Mane-iac grinned diabolically at Twilight from the front cover. This was Spike’s new copy of the Power Ponies issue that the seven of them had experienced first-hoof. In spite of their enchanted adventure in the world of Maretropolis - or because of it - Spike remained an avid reader of the comic series.

“What else are you worrying about?” Twilight asked, raising her eyes from the Mane-iac.

“I just feel like I missed out on something really important, like always,” he admitted. “Maybe I could’ve done something if I’d been there. Her spell wouldn’t have worked on me.”

“Maybe you’re right, but neither of us can change that now. And you didn’t miss out. We haven’t exactly talked to each other about what happened there until now. I should have asked everypony, actually,” Twilight said thoughtfully, rubbing her chin groove. “From what I remember, the town ponies weren’t hurt by the spell. Perhaps the magic responds differently to ponies who aren’t happy to have their cutie marks changed.”

“Or Starlight Glimmer was just a jerk,” Spike muttered.

Twilight looked around with the air of one inspired. “Have we finished the magic section yet?”

Spike made a sweeping gesture, indicating the books still heaped on the floor. “Does it look like it?” Owlowiscious carried categorised books in his talons to the bookshelves, one by one, but there was still much to be done to complete re-shelving day. 

“No, I suppose not,” Twilight bemoaned.

Spike scratched the scales above his eye. “Don’t worry. I bet we can finish your checklist today. But maybe we should check on the others. I’m sorry I didn’t do what I said I was going to do,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Spike, don’t worry about it,” Twilight said, hugging him. 

Being so close to Twilight’s body meant Spike felt her shift again, as though some piece of grit on the floor was irritating her. She settled and they sat in that comforting fashion for a few moments. The pitter-patter of the heavy rain shower and her body heat stirred the dormant, drowsy contentment Spike had felt that morning in bed. He hoped it would still be raining by the time he went to bed.






Dear Twilight Sparkle,
I cannot help but notice that Ponyville’s current rain shower is overrunning by at least two hours. The river will likely suffer the same fate in the near future. I posit that both Cloudsdale and Ponyville will benefit from a swift draining of Ponyville’s lowland reservoir.

I have already composed a message to the Water Transfer Authority in Cloudsdale. They will be sending the emergency tornado team to Ponyville in due course. Please inform Mayor Mare, Rainbow Dash, the weather team and all local pegasi that their assistance will be required.

Urgently,
Princess Celestia







Rain lashed against her hindquarters as she galloped through the streets of Ponyville, running from Twilight’s castle in pursuit of Rarity, Apple Bloom and Applejack.

“Come back!” she yelled. “Where are you going?”

Her hometown had never been more intimidating. The hulking dome of the town hall loomed ahead. Shadows dripped from the eaves of the houses.

Lightning slashed a bright cleft across the sky. She threw up her hoof to protect her eyes, trying to slow down to stop herself from falling. But the rest of her legs kept running regardless, faster, faster, and yet time seemed to drag until she inevitably lost her balance.

“Stop!” she screamed, operatic. “Wait f—”

Bitter-tasting dirt filled her mouth, gritty between her violently chattering teeth.

She was lying in a puddle of dirty water, and the mud was like ice. Her whole body ached with the cold. Pain made the edges of her hooves curl.

Breathe steadily, don’t panic. Concentrate. Don’t try to swallow the microphone. Take your time.

But it was impossible to take the deep breaths needed for a good performance when she was so cold.

The rain was icy too. She raised her head and droplets stung her cheeks as though she were a pin cushion.

Apparently Rarity didn’t care that she was lying in the dirt, because her ears drooped and her eyes were shut. Rarity’s other friends lay behind her. Every one of them bore huge bags under their closed eyes. An equality sign stood out starkly on every flank. They made no attempt to speak to one another or to her.

Rainbow Dash’s wings hung limply at either side of her body. Applejack was sprawled on her back in a way that suggested she’d been flung there. Fluttershy, curled up, shuddered with silent, pervasive sobs. 

Spike dashed to and fro, shaking the motionless ponies in vain. Pinkie Pie covered her face. Twilight actually turned away from her best friend. She could see that Spike’s mouth questioned, “Rarity?” but his voice was indistinguishable from the pouring rain.

Rarity looked different. She failed to stick out in the darkness even though she should have given her white colouration. The hair beneath her eyes was grey thanks to runny mascara, but somehow didn’t look so different from the rest of her coat. There was a creamy tint to the water in the puddle around Rarity’s body.

She realised that with each raindrop, a little of Rarity’s brilliance washed away, rendering her drab and lifeless. Yellow wisped slowly through the water where Fluttershy’s inert hoof lay. There were polychromatous smears in the mud behind Rainbow Dash that gave the impression her tail was dragging itself listlessly towards its mare. Or away from her. 

Spike looked mournfully at Rarity. Rarity suddenly opened her eyes, revealing pupils that consisted of hundreds of tiny equality signs.

She opened her mouth to bawl, and a passing Ponytones jacket kicked a slimy clod of mud into her face.

High-pitched sniggering resonated in the darkness, leading a great hoof-stamping applause. She didn’t need to see her foes to know they were laughing at her grey sister and the gaudy clown make-up covering her face and her muck-stained dress, a scrap of its former beauty.

When she hung her head in shame she saw white splotches in the grime below her chin, beside a mane clasp shaped like a blue diamond.

Another dazzling flash of lightning suddenly lit up Ponyville. The sharp spire atop the town hall winked. Simultaneously a needle of blackness raced across the ground towards her. She rolled away just before the point pierced her flank, squealing.

Rarity’s ensuing scream thundered through her eardrums.

Two by two, teeth with great trees for heads snarled at her. She shrieked and ran.

“We know where we’re goin’!” Apple Bloom cried in the far distance.

“Cutie mark city!” Scootaloo yelled.

“Stop, it’s too dangerous,” she cried. She winced, pain lancing her side with each cantering stride. The rain continued to roar in her ears. All she could do was desperately chase the faint clip-clop of another set of hooves, stifled by the forest.

She’d never reach them. She didn’t want what they wanted. But being with one’s friends in constant misery was better than being alone, lonely, talentless.

Although the storm raged around her, she soon had to stop to catch her breath. Songs she couldn’t sing burned her lungs.

The drumming rain, distant hoof steps and her own gasping contributed to a growing cacophony around her. She flattened her ears protectively but the noise was everywhere, building to a crescendo of a horrible roaring. 

“I don’t know where you’re going!” she shouted into the humdrum. “Wait for me—”

And lightning ripped the clouds above her open, exposing a starry sky of violet and sapphire, the moon shiny and round like a fat spool of ribbon. The blazing heavens hurt her eyes. Though she closed them, the incandescent light remained.

A black spot flickered in her eye, her vision; no, it couldn’t, because her eyes were closed. Yet it was coming closer, she couldn’t look away, she couldn’t see anything else: it was her judge, a unicorn coming to take her cutie mark and replace it with the upside-down horseshoe of a voiceless clown.

Thunder rolled again, deep and booming. The black spot spread huge, dark wings—

“We’re going somewhere better!” the thunder announced, and the word echoed: better, better, better!

All of the noise faded rapidly. The rain no longer felt cold.

She opened her eyes. The majestic figure of her princess stood before her, magnificent wings extended in splendour.

“I had hoped we would never meet in such circumstances, Sweetie Belle,” said Princess Luna.

“Luna!” she cried. She barely kept herself from leaping on the princess in relief. Before she had time to feel discourteous Luna stroked her head softly with one sparkling hoof. Incredibly, faint heat emanated from the stars in Luna’s beautiful mane.

“I’m so glad I’m dreaming,” she murmured.

“I would not be so glad to see me if I were you,” Princess Luna said solemnly.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“You are afraid,” Princess Luna stated.

“Oh, Luna,” she sighed. Rain continued to fall, but warmly, with the fragrance of honeysuckle carried on the breeze, a summer shower rather than a freezing downpour. All in all she was reminded of taking a bath in front of a fire burning in the hearth. But she’d never done that.

“May I ask what is troubling you, Sweetie Belle?”

“I don’t think I want my cutie mark at all,” she told the princess. “I used to think they were good things. I was wrong.”

“You fear the unknown,” Princess Luna said. “That is normal. We cannot predict the future… except in certain circumstances. This is one. You cannot deny your cutie mark, Sweetie Belle. If you fear it, your concerns may become real rather than remaining a bad dream.”

“If I don’t have one, it can’t let me down,” she answered. “Everypony keeps saying that it doesn’t matter that we’re blank flanks. It wouldn’t matter if I never got one. Spike doesn’t have one and he’s perfectly happy.”

Princess Luna wrapped one soft, warm wing around her, so close that she could see the individual lustrous barbs of her feathers, glinting with so many shades of dark blue that she couldn’t have begun to name them. She inhaled, filling her nostrils with the aromatic scents of flowers that bloomed at night, jasmine, and cake frosting.

“Ponies have always had cutie marks,” Princess Luna said, retracting her wing. “To imagine Equestria without them is to dream of a different Equestria.”

Now they stood in an astral plane that glowed all around them with the dim and hazy white light of billions of indistinguishable stars. Occasionally an individual star twinkled noticeably. A gentle strumming sound was accompanied by a far-distant choir singing songs that she didn’t know the names of. Her heart swelled with unknown but profound emotion.

Two prominent dark bands crossed the night sky. She gazed up at them, wondering what Starlight Glimmer’s actual dreams of a different Equestria looked like and whether Luna had seen any of them.

“I feel like it’s bad I can sorta understand what Starlight Glimmer wants,” she said, unbidden. There were merits to the idea of equality.

“Simple understanding is never a bad thing,” Princess Luna replied. “But it’s up to you to decide what to do with that understanding.”

She wondered whether Starlight Glimmer could remove cutie marks as well as replacing them. She wondered why cutie mark replacement was the method Starlight Glimmer had chosen. “I suppose I want to know more about her,” she said slowly.

Princess Luna didn’t answer. When she looked around, the princess was gone. In her place a tiny moon oscillated. As she observed it rose over her head, waxing into a fully illuminated disc that hovered briefly. Then it waned into nothingness.

Sweetie Belle opened her eyes as the physical moon dropped below the horizon.







The rooster’s exultant call woke Apple Bloom as the sun dawned over Sweet Apple Acres. Her mind was pleasantly empty for a few seconds, before the events of the previous day came rushing back in recollection. She frowned, instantly disheartened, and looked to the side of her bed. The chair Applejack had sat in as she’d fallen asleep was empty.

Upon pushing back the quilt and blankets, she checked for a cutie mark automatically, in case she’d just dreamed that she’d woken up. Even after Princess Luna had visited her she’d still had a couple of dreams like that. She assumed Luna didn’t visit her again because they weren’t nightmares.

Still a blank flank.

Apple Bloom wasn’t sure what to expect as she walked downstairs to the kitchen, except that Winona would be pleased to see her regardless: Applejack with a fatigued expression, maybe, or Big Mac waiting crossly for an explanation of their behaviour the previous evening.

No-pony was in the kitchen, however. Apple Bloom helped herself to one of the last frost apples in the fruit bowl for breakfast. There were fewer than she remembered, which was odd since Granny Smith didn’t eat frost apples (she said they made her gums ache) and they had to be the only variety of apple that Big Mac didn’t like to eat raw, to his eternal shame. But she didn’t think too much of it.

She swivelled a listening ear in the direction of the open window. She heard nothing more than the morning chorus of songbirds: no scuffling that would indicate Winona sniffing the edges of the field or her siblings working in the barn, none of Granny’s habitual humming as she slowly tended the vegetable patch.

Perturbed, she walked to the bottom of the stairs. No floorboard creaked above her. Even the rooster had gone quiet. The silence was unusual, insistently so. The sweet and crisp taste of frost apple lingered on her tongue.

There must be important pre-dawn work that Apple Bloom had simply forgotten about given all of the excitement of the previous day. It was silly to assume something bad had happened—

Something thudded against the front door and she jumped. Calm down, she told herself sternly, shaking off her uneasiness. Probably Big Mac moving a barrel or somethin’ else that’s perfectly normal.

Another thud resounded through the farmhouse. Apple Bloom quickly trotted to the door, but as she reached it, a huge hoof broke through with a crash. Apple Bloom screamed involuntarily.

Splinters and sawdust billowed into her face as another loud bang rattled the door on its hinges.
“Applejack, Granny, help! Help!” she squealed.

“Now that’s just my luck, ain’t it?” said a deep, sorrowful voice outside. “Bein’ thought of as nothin’ other than a common thief.”

The door strained as though a great weight was braced against it. Then suddenly the hoof was retracted. Sunlight streamed through the broken gap in the wood.

Apple Bloom coughed, eyes watering from the mixture of bright light and sawdust. A couple of seconds passed before she realised who was outside.

She pushed the door open as fast as she could, gasping, “Trouble Shoes?”

The door hit her tall friend square in the chest. “Oof!” he grunted, eyes visibly popping even though they were partially covered by his shaggy mane.

In complete opposition to the manner in which they’d first met, Trouble Shoes now fell down very slowly. Apple Bloom felt his impact with the ground through every hoof. His hat fell to cover his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Apple Bloom apologised. “You all right?”

“Reckon I’d rise to explain myself to y’all but I don’t quite feel up to it,” he wheezed.

“I’m awful sorry,” Apple Bloom said again. “I didn’t realise you were standing so close to the door. I was just so surprised…”

“Not your fault,” Trouble Shoes answered. She’d forgotten how low his voice was and how slowly he talked. It actually helped to calm her frazzled nerves. “You an’ I know that’s my lot in life.”

She moved his hat so that she could see him properly. “What are ya doing here?” she queried. “And how’d you know where I live?”

“I came by to tell y’all somethin’,” Trouble Shoes said. Over his withers Apple Bloom could see his mobile cabin beyond the archway that marked the boundary of the Apple farmyard. His characteristic hoofprints trailed across the yard.

“Why aren’t you with the rodeo ponies?” she asked, worried that he’d apparently come here all on his own. “I thought you were happy there.”

“It ain’t my luck to be happy with this here cutie mark,” Trouble Shoes said, indicating his flank as stood and once again towered above her. “I came here to thank y’all for tryin’ to help me. Just ain’t meant to be. But I heard of a pony way out past Manehattan who can help me.”

Apple Bloom heard again the voice that had tried to ‘help’ her when she’d been having nightmares. Sounds to me like cutie marks and trouble are two peas in the same pod.

Fear pooled in her stomach. “Why? What happened?”

“Ponies ain’t laughin’ at the show I put on,” he said morosely. “They’re laughin’ at me. Just like them judges did when I got my cutie mark in the first place. Just like they are now.”

He pointed in the direction of the outhouses with his hoof. Apple Bloom had to move so that she could see around the edge of the farmhouse. Applejack, Big Mac and Granny Smith were all standing in front of the outhouses, and they were all pointing right back at Trouble Shoes - and laughing.

Apple Bloom didn’t know how she hadn’t heard it before. Their brays of amusement formed a horrible counterpart to the singing birds, until they drowned the melody out completely. And still they laughed at him. She could hardly believe the sight.

Trouble Shoes stood silently, enduring the humiliation without question, even though he hadn’t put on a show and he wasn’t enjoying it. He didn’t deserve it.

Beneath the shock Apple Bloom’s anger stirred. “Y’all stop that right now!” she shouted.

“I ain’t never seen such a klutz,” Applejack laughed. “Have you, Big Mac?”

“Nnope,” her brother said, happy tears dripping down his cheeks.

Apple Bloom cringed. “Don’t laugh at him!” she yelled, the sweet taste of frost apples turning tart in her mouth.

“That’s all right,” Trouble Shoes said. He was walking away from her towards his mobile cabin. “I’m-a used to it. ‘preciate how y’all made me feel better for a while, but I got to face the truth. Ponies don’t like me. They like me makin’ a fool of myself, ‘specially when I don’t like it.” 

“That’s not true!” She galloped in front of him, forcing him to stop. “If you like yourself then other ponies will like you too. They already do like you, not just because you’re the greatest rodeo clown ever. So you’re a bit clumsy! You hafta accept who you are or no matter what, you’ll always feel unlucky. Stay here with me,” she begged. “I like you. I’ll make sure no-pony laughs at you.”

“Cutie marks lead to bitterness and misery,” intoned a mysterious female voice that took a few seconds to fade.

Apple Bloom whirled around. A cloaked figure stood under the Sweet Apple Acres entrance archway. Her horn protruded from beneath the cloak. The rest of her face was covered.

“Starlight Glimmer?” Apple Bloom whispered in growing dread.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Trouble Shoes said gloomily.

“Don’t say that!” Apple Bloom spun to face her friend again. “She’ll—”

Magic enveloped Trouble Shoes, levitating him off the ground. He stared at Apple Bloom in surprise, then at the unicorn behind her. Then his body went rigid and he grunted in a way not dissimilar to how he had when Apple Bloom hit him with the door. “M-my cutie mark!” he gasped.

The upside-down horseshoe was moving of its own accord, like a mouse under a sack. Trouble Shoes moaned in pain, sweat dripping down his face.

Apple Bloom turned on the unicorn. “Let him go,” she warned.

“This is the only way for Trouble Shoes to find real friendship,” the cloaked unicorn said.

The large hoofprint closest to Apple Bloom began to glow with a strange, magical light. Trouble Shoes groaned again. Suddenly his cutie mark appeared in a brilliant flash within the imprint. Apple Bloom gasped as the little emblem shuddered briefly before it was covered by a jar. The catches of the lid closed with an audible snap.

“No!” Apple Bloom yelled in time with a loud thud, denying the truth before her eyes. Wildly she looked behind herself. Trouble Shoes had dropped back onto the ground. A dark equals sign appeared on his flank.

“Why’d you do that?” Apple Bloom cried, facing Starlight Glimmer once more.

“I only did what he wanted,” answered the unicorn.

“That isn’t what he wanted!”

“I don’t care,” the unicorn said, magic enveloping her horn again. Apple Bloom expected to be hit with a spell. What happened was far worse.

“Apple Bloom, help us!”

Applejack’s pained cry fractured the morning. Startled birds flung themselves from their perches, a mass exodus rising into the sky, blotting out the sun. Somewhere, Winona began to howl.

Apple Bloom charged at Starlight Glimmer. 

“CEASE!” the unicorn commanded in a voice that shook the world. Apple Bloom bounced harmlessly off a blue shield of magic and landed on something soft and springy - her bed.

A rooster crowed.







“Princess Luna?!” Apple Bloom yelled, pushing the bedcovers off her body, fraught with acid panic that roiled in the back of her throat. “Am I dreaming? Please tell me I’m dreaming!”

But she was alone in her bedroom, panting. Dawn penetrated the gap between the curtains.

She heard a thump which indicated Big Mac had rolled out of bed. Winona started barking. Hooves clattered up the stairs. Everything suggested she really was awake. But her fear didn’t wane.

“Apple Bloom?” Applejack demanded, bursting into her bedroom. Big Mac arrived a moment later in a state of his own. Both of their manes were messy. Big Mac wasn’t wearing his work collar yet.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Apple Bloom heard Granny call out from her own room. Winona was still barking. Even Granny couldn’t sleep through so much noise when sunrise was imminent.

“Apple Bloom, you all right?” Big Mac asked, quickly crossing the room to be at her side. He saw tears in her eyes. It only took a slight nudge to let her know that he was quite willing to be hugged, and Apple Bloom flung her forelegs around his strong neck. She could feel Applejack hovering close by, and she tried to say her sister’s name. All she managed was a strangled whimper.

“Sugarcube, it’s all right, I promise,” Applejack murmured in her ear.

“Dang-it, I’m coming,” Granny called. “My caboose ain’t as spry as it once was, I’ll remind ya!”

They huddled there, siblings currently divided but never broken. At some point Winona came into the room too: Apple Bloom felt the rough, wet touch of her tongue against her back leg.

When Granny joined them, the family was complete. “Now, see here, little seed, you don’t got to fret,” her grandmother comforted her. “We’re here for you. You just let it all out, now, sapling.”

They were Apples to the core. Right now, everything was okay. Apple Bloom tried to concentrate on that rather than on her brand new understanding that it could all be broken in a flash of unwanted magic.
> 6. Wheels in Motion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Dear Rarity,
I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings. The dresses you made are, as always, a blessed sight for my sore eyes! But alas, one dress is missing—dew—and a collection is worthless if it is incomplete. Though you sent six boxes only five arrived in my boutique. I have already fired my security escort for losing a critical aspect of the collection, and sent word to the Crystal Empire, which was the train’s final destination. But I fear some utterly unworthy wretch has availed herself of your magnificent work.

Please visit me here in Canterlot most urgently. If you cannot create another dress by the time of the fashion show I fear the worst for your reputation and for our working relationship. But I am certain you will not permit that to happen. Truthfully I believe we can turn this most unfortunate event to our advantage by presenting your final design as one-of-a-kind, especially if you add new facets.

I eagerly await your arrival. 

Yours sincerely,
Hoity Toity







Applejack had been right about Apple Bloom having nightmares. But Sweetie Belle’s bad dreams came as a shock to both herself and her family, because she didn’t go to bed simmering with words as yet unspoken: the last thing she recalled thinking before falling asleep was that thanks to a letter she and Rarity were going to be fine.

She and Rarity were in the kitchen of Carousel Boutique tidying up dinner before Rarity took Sweetie Belle home when a mail pony knocked on the door. They hadn’t spoken about the cutie unmarking since leaving Twilight’s castle.

It was extremely unusual to receive mail in the evening, so Sweetie Belle kept a listening ear on the exchange of pleasantries. The subsequent silence didn’t reassure her, and Rarity’s shriek of consternation upon reaching the end of Hoity Toity’s letter rang every alarm bell in Sweetie Belle’s head. 

“Oh, I knew I should’ve gone with them!” Rarity cried.

“What’s wrong?” Sweetie Belle called anxiously. She dashed out of the kitchen. Rarity nearly knocked her over as she cantered in the opposite direction, heading for her workroom.

Sweetie Belle watched the letter flutter to the floor, and bit her lip. It was incredibly rude to read another pony’s mail. After a few moments, she took the letter and hurried upstairs to the workroom, without reading it. Holding an object with her magic took noticeably less effort than it had earlier in the day; carrying one lightweight letter was so much easier than using magic to stop a high-speed book aimed at your head. 

Rarity had fanned a large number of rough dress designs in the air and was shuffling through them frantically, searching for her sketches featuring the lost dress. “Where is it?” she muttered.

“Rarity, what does this letter say?” Sweetie Belle asked right behind her.

Rarity jumped, apparently startled by the proximity of her sister’s voice, and released the designs she held with her magic. A flurry of rustling filled the air. Sweetie Belle coughed when dust irritated the back of her mouth.

Rarity shook herself and opened another drawer. Most of the fallen designs were for dresses long since sewn and sold, so tidying away the papers was downright irrelevant to her right now. “I have to go to Canterlot,” Rarity told Sweetie Belle distractedly.

“What do you mean?” Sweetie Belle exclaimed. “Canterlot? Right now? Why? W-w-what about—Twilight’s dress?”

The break in Sweetie Belle’s voice gave Rarity pause. Sweetie Belle’s real question, concealed and replaced with one she thought more likely to make Rarity stop and think was, “What about me?”

Rarity sighed guiltily. What kind of monstrous sister was she to even consider leaving Sweetie Belle at this time? She had a keen eye for spotting events she was not strictly required to attend, occasions that could be missed if need arose though her reputation might suffer slightly for it. Hoity Toity’s upcoming, season-opening fashion show was one, occurring in two days.

On their way home from the castle Rarity decided that if Sweetie Belle was still upset about the cutie unmarking, she wouldn’t grace the show with her presence. That was no longer an option. She was sure that she could make one more dress in time, though the process would be stressful. But to successfully market a dress as one-of-a-kind for the first time required personal charisma as well as quality work, and that meant a physical appearance at the show.

Furthermore Rarity no longer trusted that her other dresses were fine. If any were less than perfect it could spell more than a mere downslide into unimportance. Nowadays her standing in the fashion world was delicately poised between celebrity and character. She had no wish to be a star which burned bright but fast. She desired an enduring reputation.

Rarity chose the best compromise she foresaw in that moment. “We’re in no rush to make Twilight’s dress, darling. But I must leave first thing in the morning,” she told Sweetie Belle. “Hoity Toity needs me. One of the dresses didn’t reach his boutique, so I must reproduce it for him.”

“Why?” Sweetie Belle asked. When Rarity only mumbled anxiously and trotted over to her wardrobe, Sweetie Belle repeated herself.

“One cannot show off a fashion line without the whole line.”

“But it’s not your fault somepony lost your dress on the train. Everypony would understand.”

“It doesn’t matter, darling. Without the final dress my line is incomplete, and my name shall be rendered mud; my career left in tatters!”

Sweetie Belle might have disagreed with Rarity’s melodramatic proclamation if not for the frightening vision of the future Princess Luna had showed her in her dreams when she ruined the headdress Rarity made for Sapphire Shores.

“Well, if you really have to go, can I come with you?” she asked.

“Why-ever would you want to, Sweetie?” Rarity asked. 

“Because I helped you make the dresses, and I like Canterlot. Why wouldn’t I want to come?”

Doubtless the fact that half of Rarity’s concentration still centred on the missing dress contributed to the inappropriate shortness of her reply. “Are you lying to me again?”

“It’s kind of funny you’d ask that, isn’t it?” Sweetie Belle said acerbically.

The bitterness in her voice stabbed Rarity like a misaimed needle. “Sweetie Belle!” she gasped, whirling around.

Sweetie Belle looked like her own words had astounded her. “I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I didn’t mean that.”

Jaw clenched and blinking rapidly, Rarity fought her impulse to demand an apology.

“Sorry,” Sweetie Belle muttered again, ears flat against her head. This time, her voice sounded disingenuous.

“Well… I daresay you’re right,” Rarity acknowledged slowly. “I did lie, and not even for noble reasons.”

She consciously set aside her other priorities to concentrate fully on Sweetie Belle. She’d allowed Hoity Toity’s letter to distract her on a day crucial to her relationship with her younger sister. She could pack later.

“I accept your apology. And I’m sorry too, Sweetie,” she apologised. “It was wrong of me to hide what Starlight Glimmer did to us. I had hoped to protect you. I didn’t really think how much it would upset you to learn I lied to you, because I didn’t want you to find out that I had. I didn’t want you to know about… the unsavoury aspects of our time there. I hoped to simply teach you what we taught the town ponies without… ah, um, without…”

Rarity faltered. A thin layer of sweat had formed on her coat and her right ear felt hot and itchy, as though somepony were breathing on it. Her struggle to even name what had happened was utterly ridiculous considering she was blessed to not remember the pain her friends described.

“I wanted to focus on the good rather than the bad,” she said in a rush instead. “Because I also wanted to protect myself,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to think about what Starlight did.”

Twitching her ear hadn’t alleviated the itchy sensation so she scratched it with her hoof. She met Sweetie Belle’s eyes once more. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt your feelings,” Rarity concluded, hanging her head in shame. “I hope you can forgive me someday.” 

She felt pathetically weak all of sudden and tottered over to her bed, mindful of the dirt on the floor. At least she was still Rarity. She affirmed that to herself by mentally comparing the lavish curtains in her boutique to the drapes in the equalisation house and concluding once again the drapes truly were an assault on the eyes.

Slowly, giving herself time to absorb the apology, Sweetie Belle walked over to the bed. She climbed up and nuzzled Rarity’s chin lovingly. “It’s going to be fine,” she told Rarity. “I think I can forgive you soon.”

“Oh, thank you!” Rarity said, softly and emphatically. Her little sister’s mane smelled wonderfully fragrant: roses and geraniums ousted Rarity’s discomfort. She spontaneously sighed in appreciation and gratitude.

The taxing nature of the day finally caught up with them. Neither had energy for another discussion about hiding truths from one another or other ponies.  “Can you take me home now?” Sweetie Belle asked after a minute, yawning, and Rarity did so.

She stayed to bid Sweetie Belle goodnight, in part because she needed to recount the day to her parents. She supposed the seriousness of her countenance kept them from interrupting her when she ushered them to the kitchen table. It certainly inspired her mother to soon put the kettle on and fetch a tin of homemade chocolate-cream cookies.

The sweet taste of her mother’s cookies, when combined with the aroma of chamomile tea, always eased her worries. Unfortunately the pairing didn’t have the same effect on her parents. Their perpetual smiles disappeared when Rarity talked about the equality cutie mark, and morphed into frowns when she mentioned the cutie unmarking.

“This Starlight Glimmer hurt you, didn’t she?” her father asked.

“Hondo, let’s just let Rarity finish telling her story,” her mother said.

“No, I think that’s a pretty important lil’ detail there, Cookie. Rarity, is that what you’re saying?” her father pressed.

Traces of sweat made Rarity itch again. She longed for a bath. “Truthfully, I don’t really remember very much about that part,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. Paternal fire burned in his eyes. “No-pony hurts my girls. Just tell me where this Starlight Glimmer is and I’ll see to her.”

“Father, please, it’s quite all right,” Rarity said, looking pleadingly at her mother.

Her mother bit her bottom lip and put a hoof over her husband’s. “Settle down, Hondo. Rarity’s right here, so she must be fine.” She gave her daughter a pleading look of her own, seeking assurance.

Rarity swiftly glanced at her flank. The whiteness of her coat reminded her of the whiteness of Double Diamond’s rotten smile. If her mother had said that yesterday, Rarity’s agreement would have been honest. Now, she wasn’t sure. But it had been a very long day.

“Please don’t worry about me,” she said to her parents. “I’m sure I’m just tired. It’s Sweetie Belle I’m concerned about.”

She went on to explain the connection Sweetie Belle had made between Trouble Shoes and Starlight Glimmer. Her parents exchanged glances of confusion, apparently having forgotten the intricate details regarding the Crusaders’ adventure in Appleoosa. Rarity didn’t blame them.

As it was growing late, she didn’t dwell on the topic, suggesting they speak to Applejack again. She talked briefly about Sweetie Belle’s current attitude towards cutie marks and her hesitancy around Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. Finally she explained that she needed to stay in Canterlot for a couple of days and the reason why.

“It’s as hard to stay in the big leagues as it is to get there,” her father said.

Rarity held sports in contempt, so she cringed. But his words described her situation to a tee, and her parents didn’t really understand fashion—hence the abominable shirt and straw hat combination Father continued to wear despite her protests. Therefore on another level Rarity was impressed he’d understood enough of her predicament to make any kind of link at all.

She winced when she rose from the table. Her muscles ached, particularly in her hindquarters. As soon as she reflected that she was well overdue for a session with Fluttershy at the spa, her father gave her a crushing hug capable of keeping her going for at least the next two days. They watched Rarity from the window as she walked away from their house.

The rain had finally stopped. She was glad of that when she woke with a start, bad dream fleeing to the far corners of her mind, because it meant she could lean out of the window and let the cool night air dry the sweat on her brow without getting wet.





Dear Twilight Sparkle,
Please forgive my intervention yesterday. I hope I neither ruffled your feathers nor stepped on your hooves. Normally when any critical situation arises I ask my guards to fly me to the beleaguered town post-haste. I’m grateful that since you moved to Ponyville, such actions have become largely unnecessary. Still, Ponyville remains in our direct line of sight, so my eye will always rove across it. 

I’d appreciate it if Rainbow Dash would keep me directly informed of how Ponyville’s weather schedule is altered in the coming days. I also respectfully request that you both compose a full report on how this potential flood situation developed, for my perusal, though I’m sure you’re already working on such an account.

Until next time,
Celestia

P.S. Luna is currently also writing a letter to you. It is my belief the subject matter will interest all of you.







Equestria blushed green in the rising sun. A fresh, wet smell drifted in through the kitchen window at Sweet Apple Acres. Normally that scent complimented breakfast. Today it made Applejack feel guilty.

“Lot of work to catch up on today,” she ventured when the stares grew too intense to endure. Big Mac didn’t even offer his usual agreement.

For all of the critical ploughing and planting accomplished during Winter Wrap Up, there was still much to do: all of Equestria sprouted in a rush in spring, weeds as well as crops, and the previous day’s rain had begun the annual battle for control of the fields between ponies and nature. 

Aside from grass, celery, and carrots, potatoes and herbs needed planting, and clover limited to its assigned patch. Thistles and vines had to be pulled up ruthlessly before they took root. Snails and caterpillars were hatching, and soon baby bats and foxes would be born, so the orchard needed to be patrolled regularly and the hen house guarded. 

It wasn’t an ideal time for Apple Bloom to stick to Applejack’s leg like sugar pine sap. But there was no helping that. The awareness that she’d broken Apple Bloom’s trust sat heavily in Applejack’s stomach, a nut she couldn’t digest no matter how much she gnawed on it. For that reason she didn’t even try to send Apple Bloom away when Big Mac grew tired of waiting.

“You two fancy explainin’ what happened this morning?” he grumbled.

As concisely as possible, Applejack communicated her errors of the previous two days: her regrettable request that Twilight hide the Journal of Friendship, how by distracting Rainbow Dash she and her friends were indirectly responsible for the over-long storm which had nearly flooded part of the orchard, and finally the twin revelations that Starlight Glimmer had removed their cutie marks (which she’d told Granny Smith but not Big Mac) and that the spell caused them pain (which she hadn’t told Granny until then).

She’d started with an apology, of course. Their dismayed expressions made her offer forth another.

Big Mac left to check the banks of their streams in thunderous silence. Granny fussed and scolded until Applejack pointed out the cows, lovely as they were, weren’t competent enough to milk themselves.

The distant clanking of cowbells led them past the field where potatoes would be planted once the earth had dried. Pink worms squirmed and wriggled as birds turned over the soil with their beaks, only to be chased away by Winona, full of verve.

“Reckon you can check the South Orchard for storm debris?” Applejack asked Apple Bloom.

“I’m stayin’ with you, sis,” Apple Bloom answered stonily.

That was that, then.







The clubhouse was empty, just like Rainbow Dash’s home. Scootaloo, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hadn’t explicitly arranged to hold a Crusaders meeting, but Scootaloo arrived with the hope that Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle would also know that they needed to discuss the cutie unmarking, particularly why a pony would want their cutie mark changed.

Scootaloo trotted disconsolately back down the ramp to her scooter. The soil squished under her hooves, sodden with the previous day’s rain. Despite the sun being at its strongest yet this spring, the clearing ran the risk of becoming a mud-bath if Scootaloo did the amount of trick practice she’d intended.

Even though her friends were bound to come to the clubhouse eventually, waiting for them here would be boring. Checking on Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom at home might kick-start the day. Since she’d spent a lot of time with Apple Bloom exclusively in the past week, she decided to see Sweetie Belle first. She scooted along the path back into Ponyville, aiming to spin over every puddle.

The few clouds currently wisped across the sky disappeared as the weather team removed them. Ponyville’s pegasi were either hard at work creating the optimum conditions for a scorching spring day or they were asleep like Scootaloo’s parents, exhausted by their efforts in providing tornado power to empty Ponyville’s downstream reservoir the previous evening.

Presumably Rainbow Dash was one of the ponies working in the sky. Scootaloo hadn’t seen her since she flew out of the throne room in the castle so fast her slipstream spun Pinkie Pie around rapidly on the spot. Twilight and Spike dashed in thirty seconds later waving a scroll and yelling about potential flooding. Questions about the cutie unmarking were put on hold.

The mill that neighboured Sweetie Belle’s house was powered by one of Ponyville’s many streams, and the loud, incessant rush of water through the wheel made Scootaloo pause to look over the edge of the bridge. The river level was noticeably higher. Ripples caused by the water wheel crossed the surface of the swimming hole, drawing her eye.

Scootaloo wondered how Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were getting along with their sisters today. She’d been sad at first that Rainbow Dash hadn’t told her about the cutie unmarking, but lying in her own bed gave her some perspective. Sadly, she and Rainbow weren’t proper sisters. Scootaloo had always idolised Rainbow Dash, but they arguably weren’t friends until the camping trip to Winsome Falls. Even now they rarely talked about anything that couldn’t be classified as ‘being awesome’—and relying on other ponies to rescue one’s cutie mark wasn’t exactly awesome.

And that was all beside the point anyway. Starlight Glimmer was the real pony at fault.

As Scootaloo looked across the water—there was much less mud at the base of the cliff than normal—she noticed Sweetie Belle’s father waving at her from the pier, fishing pole in hoof. She waved back at him and then scooted on over to say hello properly. “Hi, Hondo,” she greeted, trotting along the pier. “Are the fish biting today?”

“Mornin’, Scootaloo, how you doin’ today?” he asked, less brashly than normal. “Ah, I’ve had a couple of bites so far, but you know it’s not about the fish.” He patted her poll fondly.

“You always say that,” Scootaloo replied. Good thing, too, as she’d never seen him catch a fish or even get a bite. She didn’t understand his philosophy about fishing, or fishing itself, honestly. 

“Can’t be saying things that aren’t true,” he agreed. Scootaloo waited for a forthcoming explanation, suspecting her patience was in vain.

Sweetie Belle’s father was an enthusiastic pony, at least by standards that excluded Pinkie Pie. He attended pretty much every athletic event held in Ponyville, cheering throughout. Only Rainbow Dash appreciated the Wonderbolts’ Derby more than he did. He loved chatting to every stall-keeper at Ponyville’s myriad fairs. At parent-teacher conferences, Sweetie Belle couldn’t keep him from talking Cheerilee’s ear off about the sports provisions at their school.

Accordingly, two things surprised Scootaloo whenever she said hello and sat beside the pond for a little while, which happened frequently: that Hondo enjoyed fishing so much in the first place, and secondly that he was so quiet when armed with rod and bait.

Fishing was boring. Nothing happened for hours on end. How an action-loving pony could stand the inactivity was beyond Scootaloo’s comprehension. The attraction might be more understandable if Hondo used fishing as a napping opportunity—Rainbow Dash did that when hanging out beside the lake, so napping had to be awesome, somehow. But Scootaloo couldn’t remember ever having seen him asleep while fishing. 

She was about to ask after Sweetie Belle when a fish unexpectedly broke the surface of the water with a wet gloopy sound. “Hey, take a look there,” Hondo said. He pointed at an expanding circle of ripples, and then quickly at some indistinguishable spot nearby. “There she goes.”

“I didn’t see it. Why doesn’t it just bite?” Scootaloo asked, disappointed.

“The fish always come in their own time,” Hondo said amiably. “Say, you want to try? Give it some patience and a bit of good old-fashioned practise, enjoy the sun in your coat and wouldn’t you know it, anypony can be an Equestrian-league angler.”

“Fishing has a league?” Scootaloo asked dubiously. Hondo chuckled for a long time, and Scootaloo giggled briefly as she imagined exultant crowds of ponies hollering every time a fish swam close to the surface. She took the fishing rod. Maybe she’d be able to work out what was so fun about something that looked so dull.

She diligently held the pole as Hondo pointed out shadows and silver flashes in the depths. She didn’t manage to glimpse any of them. There had to be something fun about this, but it eluded her, just like the fish did! Soon her forelegs grew tired. She’d been sitting here for what felt like too long. Her need for movement grew. There was an awful itch in her legs that she couldn’t scratch. The fishing line trembled, creating rings of tiny ripples.

Hondo leaned over. With a warm smile he placed his hoof on top of hers. “Whoa now, Scootaloo.”

He didn’t force her to let go, just helped her to hold the pole until she couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped up with a groan of frustration. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “It’s just so boring! I don’t get it. The fish aren’t even biting.” She gave the fishing rod back to Hondo. “Is Sweetie Belle inside?” she asked. “I checked Rarity’s earlier but she didn’t answer the door.”

“Rarity had to go to Canterlot on some fancy business, all emergency-like,” he said. “Sweetie’s out shopping with her mother.”

“Oh,” Scootaloo moaned. Life kept obstructing her efforts to learn more about cutie marks. “Do you know where they went?”

“Wherever it is I’m sure you and me would find it hoof-biting boring,” Hondo replied with a companionable grin. “I think you’d be better off trying young Apple Bloom. I don’t think my girls will be back for a while.”

“Okay. Thanks. See you later, then,” Scootaloo said.

“Bye-bye, Scootaloo.” Hondo turned his cheerful attention back to the pond, humming the Ponyville anthem.

Scootaloo took to the path to Sweet Apple Acres for the third time. She really hoped that Apple Bloom would be available in spite of her chores. Actually, that didn’t matter, because at this point Scootaloo was willing to help out if it meant not being alone with her frustration.

Failing to learn about cutie mark matters not only opposed their club membership but betrayed who they were. Their blank flanks were still a defining characteristic of their friendship, not just for solidarity against Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon but because the Crusaders shared a growing interest in what cutie marks really meant. They weren’t interested in Starlight Glimmer purely because of Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Applejack. Trouble Shoes’s problem with his cutie mark had intrigued them all too.

She swiftly checked the clubhouse, which was still empty. She stepped back into the sunshine and saw a splash of pink through the trees. Pinkie Pie came into view. Scootaloo remembered that she’d said she would visit the farm this morning, if the Cakes didn’t need her. 

“Pinkie Pie!” she called, seizing the chance for company.

“Oh, hi there, Scootaloo,” Pinkie answered. “How are you? Hey, are you crusading?”

“No.” Scootaloo joined her on the path. “I was just checking if Apple Bloom was here. But she’s not. Can I walk with you to Sweet Apple Acres to try to find her?” It struck Scootaloo as strange that Pinkie was walking rather than hopping.

“Of course you can. Isn’t it a beautiful day? Everypony was smiling when I left Sugarcube Corner.” Pinkie waved her hoof at the flowery embankment, and inhaled with a smile. “Don’t’cha just love the smell of lilacs? I always know that spring is here when the lilacs bloom. Of course, I know spring arrives when winter is officially wrapped up but you can’t really smell it ‘til the lilacs come out.”

“Uh, yeah, they’re nice,” Scootaloo agreed.

Pinkie fell quiet. If she were any other pony Scootaloo wouldn’t have worried. But by not burying her muzzle in the flowers or making up a song on the spot, Pinkie seemed subdued, just as she had been when the Crusaders confronted Twilight about hiding the Journal of Friendship. Scootaloo wracked her brain pondering why.

She considered that, like Sweetie Belle’s father when fishing, Pinkie was just enjoying the sounds of nature without her own input. For about five seconds that kept Scootaloo from speaking. Then, feeling very serious and almost grown-up, she asked, “How are you today, Pinkie?”

“I’m okie-dokie-lokie, Scootaloo.”

Scootaloo recalled the previous afternoon. Twilight and Fluttershy had raced away with Spike to arrange an emergency water transfer between Ponyville and Cloudsdale. Their clattering hoof steps gradually faded away, leaving two sets of sisters, Pinkie, and Scootaloo standing in silence in the throne room.

“D’ya need to get your hat?” Applejack asked Apple Bloom. She clearly wanted to get back to Sweet Apple Acres as soon as possible. “Or do you need it, Pinkie?”

“No way, you can totally keep my hat,” Pinkie Pie answered. “I can get another one on the way to Sweet Apple Acres anyway.”

“Uh, Pinkie Pie, what about Gummy?” asked Apple Bloom.

Pinkie giggled. “He doesn’t mind the rain, he’s an alligator.” Scootaloo could hear her bouncing away.

“Shouldn’t you go an’ check on him?” Apple Bloom said rather emphatically. “He’s been by himself all day.”

A long beat passed, causing Scootaloo to look around. Pinkie Pie had her head cocked at Apple Bloom. Applejack was also looking at her sister with obvious concern, which kept Scootaloo observing.

“I’m sure he’s okay. Although he could do with a new coat of shellac on his toenails,” Pinkie said, rubbing her muzzle thoughtfully.

“R-right now?” asked Apple Bloom. “Because it’s okay if you need to look after him rather than coming with us.”

Pinkie blinked, something like uncertainty creeping into her expression. Applejack tried to smile at Pinkie, but there was no heart in it and it ended up looking more like a grimace.

“Uh, Pinkie, if it’s okay would you mind lettin’ us be for the evening?” Applejack asked in a strained tone, and Pinkie’s smile disappeared. “How about you come by the farm in the mornin’ instead?” Applejack suggested quickly.

“W-well, okay. I mean, no problem. I mean, I’ll have to see whether the Cakes need my help,” Pinkie said, her tone considerably cooler.

Applejack nuzzled her quickly. “Thanks, sugarcube,” she said.

Colliding with Pinkie Pie’s leg broke Scootaloo out of her recollection. “Are you all right?” Pinkie asked, looking worried.

“Sorry, I’m okay.” Scootaloo took a deep breath. The air smelled of apples and straw and good, tilled earth. They’d arrived at Sweet Apple Acres.

“Hello there!” Granny Smith hollered across the farmyard from the barn. “Come on over here, you two!”

Her hooves were a blur as she took pieces of straw from a hay bale beside her rocking chair, weaving them together into a simple straw hat. A wagon in front of the open barn doors contained several sorry-looking scarecrows in need of re-dressing.

“Good morning, Granny,” Pinkie Pie greeted. “We’re looking for Applejack and Apple Bloom. Do you know where they are?”

“Well I don’t know as I want to tell y’all ‘fore I have a word with you, apple pie.”

Both Pinkie and Scootaloo were taken aback. Granny put aside the half-completed hat and gave Pinkie a critical look.

“Now I know y’all live exciting lives,” she said, “and you’ve gots to runnin’ all over Equestria helpin’ other young fillies with their friendship problems and lookin’ for your cutie marks. But Applejack and Apple Bloom came home in such a state last night I didn’t know what to think. S’if there hasn’t been enough unexpected adventure for y’all lately, even if it is good for the soul!” she admonished, glaring at Scootaloo. “Poor sapling had nightmares all night, and Applejack didn’t fare much better, frettin’ half the night away like a broody hen. An’ you were nowhere in sight, apple pie!”

Pinkie’s ears flattened. Scootaloo could only tell that Granny Smith was agitated, not understand the reason why.

She was also unhappy to hear Apple Bloom had slept badly. Her own dreams had been a bit scary for a while, but she distinctly remembered staring down Starlight Glimmer with the confidence that she could totally take on the unicorn and win, and grinned to herself. Granted, she couldn’t remember where that confidence came from. She supposed Princess Luna had helped her.

Granny Smith continued. “So Applejack tells us some more about that uppity mare who don’t have a lick of sense far as I can tell: the one with the fancy mathematical cutie mark.”

“She didn’t,” Scootaloo interrupted. “Starlight’s was fake.”

“Since y’all know who I mean there’s no need for them persnicketies,” Granny Smith answered, waving her hoof dismissively. “Applejack tells us that spell took away more’n just special talents. She said that y’all were hurt by her. And all this time little seed barely leaves her side. Still hasn’t, which ain’t useful when there’s chores need doing.” 

“I’m sorry, Granny,” Pinkie apologised forlornly. 

“I ain’t finished so how can you know what to be sorry for?” demanded Granny, leaving her rocking chair. “Mmm, though maybe I’m ramblin’. Question’s simple, apple pie: why didn’t you come home to Sweet Apple Acres last night? What were you waitin’ for, an invitation?”

Startled, Pinkie explained, “I was going to. But I don’t live here, and Applejack asked me not to come with them. Although I think that was because Apple Bloom didn’t… didn’t want me.” Her face drooped.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t seem like herself while we were walking here, Scootaloo thought. Even when Applejack nuzzled Pinkie the previous afternoon, trying to soothe the injury caused by her words, the pink pony hadn’t smiled again until she and Scootaloo reached Sugarcube Corner.

“Pshaw,” scoffed Granny Smith. “That don’t mean this ain’t your home, apple pie. You come here whenever you want,” she said firmly. “That’s what family is. Don’t need an invitation. You neither, Scootaloo.”

Elation rushed warmly through Scootaloo. Evidently Pinkie felt the same for they both grinned widely. But Scootaloo’s joy was immediately followed by the realisation she wanted to hear those words from Rainbow Dash, and a fear she never would.

“I’ve been worrying something fierce about y’all,” Granny Smith admitted, putting her hoof on Pinkie’s withers and beckoning Scootaloo closer. “This Starlight Glimmer sounds lower’n a snake’s belly in a wagon rut.”

Scootaloo spent a few seconds working the meaning of the phrase out while Pinkie hugged Granny Smith, albeit with a shadow in her eyes that only the elderly mare recognised. “We’re okay, Granny,” Pinkie said. “Especially now. This is definitely this best family ever!” she gushed.

“Now, ain’t you just the sweetest thing,” Granny answered happily, which inspired Pinkie to effervescently twirl her around. “You’ll plumb tucker me out doin’ that, apple pie,” Granny warned, swaying dizzily, and Pinkie worriedly put her hooves around Granny Smith to steady her.

“Why do you keep calling her apple pie?” Scootaloo finally asked.

“Oh, that’s what Granny calls me,” Pinkie said with a little giggle. “Because I’m an honorary Apple as well as a Pie.”

“Isn’t there an actual pony called Apple Pie?”

“There sure is, but we call her Cousin Ella,” Granny Smith said cheerfully.

“Really?” Scootaloo said, and steeled herself for a rambling tale. “Why do you call her Ella?”

Thankfully Granny Smith kept the story short and sweet. “Cousin Apple Pie went to Manehattan and came to the next reunion speakin’ fancy,” she said. “Well, ponies don’t call a thing what it really is in highfalutin’ places like that, and she told us they call a plain ol’ apple pie with ice cream on it, an apple pie ella mode. So we started callin’ Apple Pie Ella.”

Even Scootaloo, hardly the most refined filly in Ponyville, was certain Granny had mangled the pronunciation. But she giggled anyway along with Pinkie, who was back to her bubbly self. 

Remarkably, Granny Smith directed them to the South Orchard without needing to be reminded of their original purpose in visiting Sweet Apple Acres. Scootaloo left her scooter in the farmyard beside the wagon filled with scarecrows, so as to keep the wheels mud-free, and listened to Pinkie humming along with the twittering birds as they gambolled under the apple trees.

They heard Applejack and Apple Bloom before they saw them. Pinkie stopped singing so that they could understand what they were overhearing.

“You need a hoof with that branch? It’s pretty big.”

“Naw, I’m fine.”

“You sure about that?”

“I said I’m fine.” As Scootaloo and Pinkie got closer, they heard Apple Bloom say sharply, “Where are you goin’?”

“Kinda looks like scarring on that tree over there. Could be from a bear. I better take a look at it.”

“Wait for me.”

“Now, come on, Apple Blo—”

“Just wait,” Apple Bloom insisted, breathing unevenly.

Scootaloo caught a glimpse of an orange coat behind one of the trees. A few more steps revealed Applejack clearly. A few metres beyond, standing beside a cart half-filled with broken branches and rotten apples, Apple Bloom struggled to lift a tree branch almost as big as she was.

“Let me help you,” Applejack entreated. She didn’t notice Scootaloo and Pinkie approaching. All of her attention was on Apple Bloom.

“No, I can do it; you just gotta wait a moment,” Apple Bloom snapped as she strained her body trying to lift the heavy branch. Her cheeks were starting to resemble her mane in colour.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Applejack said desperately, but as soon as she took a step forward Apple Bloom shouted wildly, “You don’t want me to do it, do you?!”

“That’s crazy talk, sugarcube!”

“Crazy talk? You want to know what’s crazy talk? You lying to me!”

“I’m sorry,” Applejack said, almost helplessly, lowering her head so that her face was hidden behind the rim of her hat.

“You’re only sorry that Rarity gave you up! Kinda funny you taught her how to be a better sister for Sweetie Belle, huh!”

“Rarity—”

“It ain’t about Rarity!” Apple Bloom screamed, stamping her hoof. 

“I’m sorry,” Applejack said again, in a small voice. Scootaloo felt small too. She’d never seen Apple Bloom so angry. Perhaps she could hide behind one of the apple trees and sneak back to the farmyard without being seen.

A hoof gently touched her shoulder. “I know it’s tough, but being a family means loving each other and sticking together even when you’re arguing,” Pinkie Pie said. “Come on.”

Scootaloo stayed behind and off to one side of Pinkie, just in case Apple Bloom’s fury extended beyond yelling.

“Hi!” Pinkie Pie hailed, intentionally bucking an apple tree to announce her arrival. Her hooves thudded against the bark and knocked a few small red apples loose. She caught them in her hooves.

“Pinkie?” Applejack and Apple Bloom exclaimed at the same time. “Oh, Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom added, sounding surprised.

“Do you two wanna take a quick break?” Pinkie asked. “We brought something to drink.”

Scootaloo watched, fascinated, as Pinkie reached into her own mane and unaccountably extracted four bottles of apple juice and four colourful straws. “Wow,” she breathed. “Have you got anything else in there?” She parted Pinkie’s curly mane with her front hooves, investigating whether there was further hidden treasure. When she found nothing, she took a bottle of juice over to Apple Bloom.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Of course.” Apple Bloom’s flush faded but Scootaloo took note of how her friend still glared at Applejack, who scrunched her nose uncertainly and trotted over to Pinkie Pie.

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo asked.

Apple Bloom scoffed and scuffed the ground with her hoof. “Yeah, I’m sure,” she muttered. She loudly drank a few mouthfuls of apple juice through her straw. As she smacked her lips, she sighed and her face fell.

“Granny Smith said you had bad dreams,” Scootaloo said worriedly.

“Granny talks too darn much,” Apple Bloom said sullenly. Her gaze flickered between Scootaloo and Applejack, over Scootaloo’s shoulders. She was clearly more interested in her sister than in Scootaloo. Scootaloo turned around so she could observe Pinkie Pie and Applejack too.

Neither pony was speaking. Applejack was holding her hat in her hoof against her barrel. It wasn’t like Scootaloo had never seen her without her hat, but the sight still struck her as strange. Pinkie affectionately brushed her muzzle against Applejack’s neck, and then they hugged, all in silence. Everypony except Granny Smith was so quiet today.

Scootaloo grimaced, at something of a loss. Without Sweetie Belle she wasn’t sure how to cheer Apple Bloom up, and her friend’s sourness curdled her own mood. No wonder Pinkie tried so hard to make downcast ponies smile. She was doing so right now, speaking quietly in Applejack’s ear, which perked up as Applejack chuckled softly.

Apple Bloom snorted and tried to lift the tree branch causing her so much trouble. Her legs shook with exertion, reminding Scootaloo first of fishing beside the pond and then of how Sweetie Belle’s dad had helped her to hold the fishing rod when she got tired.

Scootaloo frowned thoughtfully and put her hooves on the tree branch.

“S’okay, I can do it,” Apple Bloom said immediately.

“But you don’t have to do it by yourself,” Scootaloo pointed out. 

A realisation surged through her mind like the bright shockwave of a spreading sonic rainboom.

Trouble Shoes had spent his life alone. His natural clumsiness caused aggravation for rodeo ponies all over Equestria. But none of that was his fault. He’d just never had a true friend to help him understand his cutie mark, and if she and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hadn’t gotten to know him he wouldn’t be where he was now: happy. With each day that passed Scootaloo grew more pleased that they’d helped him.

You could accomplish so much with the help of your friends: they’d had a blast re-shelving Twilight’s library before finding out she’d hidden the Journal of Friendship on Applejack’s request. At the same time, Applejack and Rarity had kept their thoughts about the cutie unmarking private instead of being honest, directly leading to Apple Bloom’s bad mood. They hadn’t talked to their sisters or to their friends. If a pony was just going to keep something to herself even when she had friends, then what was the point of having those friends in the first place? Scootaloo would vouch that life without friends wasn’t nearly as good as it could be. It was so boring.

And in the end Starlight Glimmer was just a friendless pony. She’d confused friendship with being identical, but if your friends were just like you, how could they show you fun and new things and light? How could they help you when you were in trouble? Had Starlight Glimmer ever really had a proper friend? She’d done bad things, but so had Trouble Shoes. Maybe she was just like him.

The map must have called Twilight, the Princess of Friendship, to Starlight Glimmer’s town not only to help the inhabitants but to help the founder. And since the Cutie Mark Crusaders were friends with Twilight, they had a responsibility to help her too, just like they’d helped Trouble Shoes.

“I’ve got it!” Scootaloo exclaimed.

“So lift it,” Apple Bloom said shortly, meaning the branch.

Scootaloo grinned apologetically. “I meant something else.” Still, she concentrated on lifting the branch and with a grunt of combined effort she and Apple Bloom succeeded.

“Whoa nelly!” Applejack and Pinkie both cantered over to lend a hoof. Though Apple Bloom frowned, she didn’t insist Applejack stop helping. All together they loaded the branch into the wagon. Pinkie clapped her hooves together in delight.

“I know what to do,” Scootaloo declared proudly, posing in the back of the wagon.

Pinkie grinned joyfully. The Apple siblings looked confused. “With the branch?” Apple Bloom asked dourly.

“No! About the cutie unmarking and Starlight Glimmer,” Scootaloo answered, choosing to ignore the Apples’ scepticism. “But we need to find Sweetie Belle first.”

“Not this again,” Apple Bloom complained. “It didn’t really work out when I said we had to find the Journal of Friendship ‘fore telling Sweetie Belle about the cutie unmarking.”

“Fine, you’re right,” Scootaloo conceded. “We need everypony! Or as many as can make it. So maybe not Rarity.”

“Scootaloo, I’ve got a lot of work to do here,” Applejack told the filly firmly.

Scootaloo turned her best adorable expression on the older Apple, emulating Sweetie Belle. Applejack sighed, relenting. “But I suppose if you can get everypony who’s willin’ here at Sweet Apple Acres, I can make a bit of time to hear ya out…”

“Okay!” Scootaloo yelled, leaping off the wagon. She looked at Apple Bloom, but the other filly was watching her older sister like a hawk again.

“Can I help you?” Pinkie asked Scootaloo enthusiastically.

“Sure, let’s go!”

“Race you to the farmhouse?” Pinkie asked, and took off at breakneck speed before Scootaloo answered. Scootaloo laughed and galloped after her, feeling lighter than she had for ages, as though her wings actually worked.