“Shining? You think Mom and Dad might’ve been kidnapped by ninjas?” Twilight Sparkle asked her brother nervously, her eyes once again scanning the darkened street outside.
For the last fifteen minutes straight all Shining Armor’s little sister had done was sit along the living room window and watch as the rain fell from the pitch-black sky, occasionally jolting at the random clap of thunder that managed to sound a little too close for comfort.
“You really think Mom and Dad would still be out in this type of weather?” Shining asked. “Or even ninjas for that matter? I know ninjas are supposed to be all tough and sneaky, but no one likes getting their clothes soaked.”
Shining and Twilight’s parents had left earlier that afternoon to visit some friends across town. The sudden spooky thunderstorm hadn’t been part of their original plan, though; neither had Twilight’s evidently rising unease caused by the whole situation.
Twilight ignored Shining’s last few words and scurried away from the window, diving headfirst inside her Fortress of Knowledge—which was a dozen or so texts stacked in a rough steeple-shape with a small opening at its base. It was clear Twilight had already almost outgrown her Fortress of Knowledge; her short legs and tail left hanging out in the breeze with the rest of her safely inside.
“Just as I thought!” Twilight announced from deep within her book fort. “It’s all so clear now. I really should have seen it coming all along.”
Seated on the living room couch staring at the fireplace, Shining sighed and climbed down. He lifted Twilight’s lone “roof” book up and glanced inside; finding spread out along the carpet a highly detailed map of Canterlot. Twilight had used her Crayons to doodle out the route their parents would’ve taken to get to their friends’ house… as well as all the possible spots highly trained ninjas might’ve been hiding in wait for that perfect opportunity to strike.
The moment she’d finished her Map of Possible Disasters, Twilight’s bottom lip shot out and began to twitch. Then her eyes started watering. “So if my calculations are correct…” she started off sadly, a lump forming in her throat. “Mom and Dad really were kidnapped by ninjas!”
Having known his little sister for years now, Shining knew that full-blown waterworks were only a single wrong word away. As absurd as “kidnapping ninjas” clearly were—to most likely everyone that wasn’t still a foal—he understood well enough that when Twilight let her mind wonder, her imagination could go off the charts in a hurry.
In the center of her crumbling Fortress of Knowledge, a single tear coursed down Twilight’s cheek. “What if the ninjas want ransom money? I’m not even old enough to have an allowance yet! How many bits do you have in that piggybank of yours, Shining? Please say a lot! Please?”
The best way to combat a little sister’s overactive imagination? Shining thought. By using imagination in turn.
“I wouldn’t worry all that much about Mom and Dad if I were you, Twily,” Shining told her as casually as he could. “I’d be more worried about the ninjas, honestly.”
Twilight looked up at him, tilting her head. She wiped at her eyes with a hoof. “Why? Because they could come here after kidnapping Mom and Dad and kidnap us, as well?”
Shining shook his head. “Nah. Because don’t you know how much of a karate master Mom is?”
Now Twilight did more than tilt her head, becoming very close to toppling over. “What!? Since when? And why wouldn’t Mom tell me about something like that?”
“Waiting until you were older, I would guess,” Shining replied, slowly stepping toward the living room window as if starting a heartfelt monologue. “Could now be the right time?” He set a hoof down onto the carpet heavily (only after he had a title in mind that he liked, of course). “Yes. I have decided. Now is the correct time. As an official member of the Band of Best Brothers, I will tell you exactly what you need to know, Twilight. But only because I think you’re old enough to finally learn the truth.”
Sluggishly—hesitantly—Twilight left the safety of her Fortress of Knowledge and crossed the room toward him. She raised a single brow until it disappeared under her mane. “So Mom’s a karate master?”
Shining nodded without pause. “Hadn’t you ever wondered where Mom went every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights?”
“I thought she had pottery class,” Twilight chirped innocently.
“Only a ruse, young Twily,” Shining explained. “In truth, all that time was spent in intense karate lessons. Perhaps kicking at pottery for practice.”
“So Mom takes karate class three times a week?”
“Takes?” Shining laughed to himself. “More like teaches. Mom’s a karate master, Twilight. She has a black belt and everything. She even had a darker belt than black long ago, but, regretfully, lost it and was never able to get it back.”
“Did she lose it to a worthy adversary? Another karate master?”
“What?” Shining frowned. “Oh, no. Mom just dropped it in a room with no windows and lost it instantly. Blended right in to the shadows, it did.”
“Oh.” Twilight sat on the carpet in front of him, head up and expectant. It seemed Shining had finally gathered his little sister’s full and (for the moment) undivided attention. “So you think she stopped the ninjas from kidnapping her and Dad?”
“But of course!” Shining exclaimed. “And I’m sure she kicked their butts so bad, they ended up with a crack down the middle!”
Twilight wrinkled her nose at that. “That sounds like a joke only Dad would make. You can’t make those jokes, Shining. You’re supposed to have a baby first.”
He smirked. “Fine. But just you wait. Once I get the chance, you won’t be able to stop the bad jokes from gushing out.”
That got a faint smile out of Twilight, and Shining was glad. He actually thought he might’ve averted any further Twilight tears when another blast of thunder filled the room they were in, even going so far as to rattle the windows.
And just like that, Twilight was safely tucked back inside her Fortress of Knowledge. “Now I know for sure what’s happened! Those ninjas were just a diversion, see? The real reason Mom and Dad aren’t home yet is…”
Shining’s shoulders slumped as he waited for whatever came next.
“Robots!” Twilight yelled as she climbed out again, a single book tucked under a foreleg. “Why else would a thunderstorm appear out of nowhere on a perfectly perfect day?”
“Pegasi on strike?” Shining ventured dryly. “I have heard grumblings.”
“No! It’s much simpler than that! It’s to mask the robots’ movements! Because it’s raining so hard, we can’t hear any of their boops and beeps or the sound they make when they back up. The one that goes ehh-ehh-ehh-ehh!” She gasped, bringing a hoof to her mouth. “But Shining. Follow me on this. What if they’re not just any old regular evil robots, but evil sentient robots instead? So unsatisfied with their dour lives of coffee brewing and baking batches of waffles by the dozen that they collectively decide to rise up and destroy all ponies? All ponies including Mom and Dad!”
Shining sat on the ground and crossed both forelegs across his chest. “You’ve been reading those Hay Blackberry books again, haven’t you? I thought Mom took those away from you.”
“What? No, I haven’t. I haven’t read any of those books in like forever!” If Twilight’s bright crimson cheeks weren’t evidence enough, the current book in her grasp certainly was. A book titled “The Oven That Got a Brain and Then Didn’t Want to be an Oven Anymore Because He Was Always Fired Up”.
“Twily, that’s just—” ridiculous, Shining was about to say, before he remembered his ongoing battle against Twilight’s imagination. He paused to think, but only for a moment. “But Twilight. It’s raining outside.”
“So?” she said with rising alarm. “I already told you what that rain’s for! It’s to cover their tracks!”
“But robots aren’t supposed to get wet, remember?” he said. “Their circuits would fry and then they’d explode! And then explode again for some reason!”
Twilight’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She didn’t seem to have anything to follow that up with… until she leveled a tiny hoof in his direction. “But what if they had umbrellas!? Big wide ones!?”
Even Shining had to admit that one stumped him for a moment. Then he smiled smugly. “Then I’d just take them away from them.”
“The robots’ umbrellas?”
“Yep,” Shining said with a nod. “Every. Last. One.”
“But that would be so cruel, Shining! Taking someone’s umbrella away from them in the middle of a storm! Even if they were planning on mass pony genocide.”
“This is war, is it not? Oddly specific robot war?” Shining said. “To keep my family safe—including my little sister—I would do all that was necessary. Up to and including stealing umbrellas from robots that refuse to make us waffles anymore.”
The grandfather clock in the kitchen sounded off, indicating it was six. Shining took one last glance out onto the dreary, wet street outside (hopeful to glimpse his parents’ impromptu return) before facing his little sister again.
“Time for dinner, Twily,” he told her sternly.
Twilight’s jaw hung open. “Eat dinner? Without Mom and Dad? We can’t eat dinner without Mom and Dad!”
“Sure we can,” Shining said, casting a spell that lifted Twilight off the floor by her tail. “Didn’t you know that when Mom and Dad are out, I’m the one in charge?”
“But—” was as far as Twilight got, before she was effortlessly levitated into the kitchen tail-first.
Shining snorted as he carried her along. He was definitely going to miss doing stuff like this when Twilight became too big for it.
***
“What if it was a nefarious group of dragons that took Mom and Dad?” Twilight asked anxiously, continuing to ignore her dinner of steamed vegetables and eggplant lasagna (left ready-to-heat in the oven by their mother should Shining have to start dinner without them). “Why if the dragons are flying off with them right as I’m saying this very sentence? What if the moment I finish this very sentence, Mom and Dad are dropped into an active volcano!?”
Even though Shining had covered every window in the kitchen to block out the storm, there was little he could do to stop the continuous blasts of thunder from reaching his sister’s ears. It felt as if each time the storm sounded from outside, Twilight would come up with a new—and even more farfetched—theory as to why their parents weren’t home yet.
Shining blamed the amount of books she read.
Across the table, Shining chewed on his food and pointed a fork at her. “Why don’t you concentrate on your dinner instead, Twilight? You know Mom and Dad would hate to hear you missed dinner just because they weren’t here.”
“You can eat at a time like this?” she asked him incredulously. “Shining! There are dragons on the loose!”
“I highly doubt that. I’m sure that would’ve made it into the morning papers.”
With a visible amount of effort, Twilight lifted her small frame up onto the table. “Do you know something that I don’t, Shining? You seem awfully calm about all this. Something to do with that group you’re a member of, perhaps?”
“Group?” Shining asked, before catching himself. “Oh, right! That group I told you about before! That very important group known as the…” Shining searched for the title he’d made up earlier, but found he’d forgotten it already.
“Band of Best Brothers,” Twilight finished for him. “Don’t play dumb, Shining! This is important business here! So what does the Band of Best Brothers do incase of dragon attacks?”
Shining shrugged. “You know. We just deal with it.”
“But how?” From underneath the table, Twilight had retrieved an extra notepad and Crayon. If there was one thing Shining’s sister like more than books, it was taking notes. A lot of notes.
Shining eyed up the kitchen until he found something useful—a flyer for an upcoming Wonderbolts show attached to the fridge. On it two pegasi were soaring toward each other, about to clink their hooves together.
“Dragons? We give them the secret hoof-claw shake, of course,” Shining told her coolly, leaning far back in his chair. “It’s widely known that most disgruntled dragons are actually teenagers. And what do teenage creatures like best of all?”
Twilight thought on that. “Black mane dye and acne cream?”
“Close,” Shining replied. “Actually, teenage dragons consider themselves ‘bros’ above all else, and spend a great amount of time searching for other ‘bros’ to be cool with. And the only way to tell if someone’s a real ‘bro’? By our very own secret hoof-claw shake.”
“So you’re a bro?” Twilight asked him curiously. “Since when?”
“Since the day you were born, little sis. The first three letters of ‘brother’ are BRO. And I am part of the Group of Best Brothers.”
“Band of Best Brothers,” Twilight corrected.
Shining gave a nod. “Yes, of course. Only a test to see if you were paying attention. Nice job and all that.”
Seated on the tablecloth, Twilight seemed to still be piecing it all together. “So… what you’re saying is that dragons wouldn’t attack Mom and Dad because you know a secret hoof-claw shake that lets them know you’re a real ‘bro’ and not a fake ‘bro’?”
“More or less.” Shining felt so smug about this latest “fib” that he even plunked his back legs onto the table. “Dragons don’t say ‘Bros before Rhos’ for nothing, Twily.” He then filled her in. “Rhos as in Rhodonite. It’s a type of rock.”
“Mineral, Shining,” Twilight once again corrected. She still hadn’t touched any of her food.
“Still not hungry, Twilight?” Shining asked her. “You don’t have to worry about dragons anymore, remember?”
Twilight gave her dinner plate a disinterested glance. “I’m just not hungry right now. I’m still too worried about Mom and Dad being out in the storm.”
“Well,” Shining said, taking an exaggerated chomp out of his lasagna square, “you do remember what Mom and Dad always said about dinner, right?”
“That it’s promptly at six and wash your hooves before eating.”
“Afraid not. Actually, it’s that dinner is the absolute most important meal of the day.”
Twilight rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, Shining, now I know you’re lying. Most important meal of the day? That’s breakfast! That’s the most important meal of the day!”
“And who, exactly, told you that, dear sister?” Again, Shining took another large bite out of his food, hopeful to set a good example. “Mom and Dad? Or was it that weird cereal mascot you like so much that told you such lies?”
Twilight opened her mouth to object, but instead leapt from her chair to retrieve her explosively colorful box of cereal from the cabinet. Then she set it back down on the table for closer inspection.
Twilight’s favorite breakfast cereal had always been one called “Alicornios” that had—you guessed it—a large pink alicorn made out of candy known as Princess Marshmallow serving as its mascot. Inside the box one could be guaranteed sugary horn shapes, armor shapes, tiara shapes, cutie mark shapes, and best of all, hundreds upon hundreds of miniature marshmallow tails and manes.
Twilight spun the box around to face the cartoon drawing of Princess Marshmallow. Two large speech bubbles hung from her mouth: “I’m magically impossible!” and “Remember kids! Breakfast is the absolute MOST important meal of the day! So make sure you eat breakfast THREE TIMES A DAY WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT!”
Eventually, Twilight looked back at Shining. “So breakfast isn’t the most important meal of the day?”
Shining gravely shook his head. “I think it’s time you learned the truth. Since the very beginning of time, breakfast mascots have devoted their entire lives to spreading lies—Princess Marshmallow, Double Eyepatch Sailboat Captain Tasty Treat, the Fabulous Fiber Friends—all so they could gain as many bits as possible from naïve breakfast enthusiasts.”
“So then what makes eating dinner so important?” Twilight asked.
Shining hadn’t thought that far ahead. He struggled for an answer. “For energy. And other stuff like that.”
“Energy for what?” Twilight asked. “What do ponies even do besides sit around and sleep after they’ve finished dinner?”
“Dream,” Shining replied at once; the idea hitting him like some bolt of lightning from the raging storm outside. “Ever heard of lucid dreaming before, Twily?”
Twilight nodded. “Of course I have! It’s when you’re dreaming and you realize you’re dreaming and can control it. I love when that happens! Although it’s only happened twice before. Like when I dreamt about flying in the clouds with no wings or finding a book that never ends and just keeps going on and on and on.”
“And do you know what energizes lucid dreams?”
Finally, she stared down at her untouched plate of food. “Dinner?”
“Exactly.”
Despite her size, Twilight polished off her entire helping of food and accompanying glass of milk in a little over twenty seconds.
Then she burped, and Shining laughed.
***
“This is good garlic toast,” Twilight admitted, nibbling on the corner of one as crumb after crumb trickled from her mouth and onto the cushions below.
Both her and Shining sat on the living room couch together, garlic toast in hoof as they watched the dancing flames in the fireplace. It had always been a tradition between them when their parents left for a time; Shining had never been all that keen in the cooking department, so garlic toast became his go-to dish. Twilight never seemed to mind, though. Even if it always was a bit burnt around the edges.
On the other end of the couch, Shining polished off his slice and sighed. Since they’d exited the kitchen, the rain outside had quieted, as did the rolling thunder. Even Twilight had quieted down a bit (perhaps due to the piece of garlic toast still stuffed inside her maw).
Then something creaked upstairs.
“Zombies!” Twilight blurted out, showering the top of the coffee table with fresh breadcrumbs.
Before Shining even knew what had happened, he found Twilight on his head, forelegs wrapped tight around his horn. He sighed bitterly as more crumbs fell to his mane.
Twilight continued on like a boiling teakettle. “I KNEW it wasn’t dragons or robots or ninjas or breakfast mascots! It was zombies all along! They got Mom and Dad on their way back home and now THEY’RE FINALLY INSIDE THE HOUSE!”
Again, Shining used his aura to lift Twilight up by the tail and back onto the couch. He clamped two heavy hooves atop her shoulders to make sure she stayed put. “Twilight,” he began calmly. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know perfectly well there’s no such thing as zombies.” He paused, a smirk landing on his lips. “The trotting dead on the other hoof…”
Twilight’s large eyes quickly became only black pupils.
“Twilight, look,” he started again, “all kidding aside, there are no such things as zombies. Or trotting dead creatures.”
“You’re just saying that because you know they’ll eat me first!” Twilight said nervously. “My brain’s much tastier than yours! Probably bigger, too!”
Shining muttered out under his breath, “You’re so lucky you’re my kid sister right now.”
Twilight jolted at something. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“Another noise from upstairs!”
“Creaky floorboards.” Shining latched down on her shoulders again. “Look, Twily. You’re just going to have to trust me on this one. Even if there were zombies inside our house—which there aren’t—I know precisely how to deal with them.”
Twilight looked up at him, almost pleading. “You do? You really do?”
“Sure I do,” he told her rather bravely. “The best way of dealing with the recently deceased? Conversing with them, of course.”
“Talking to them? Like… telling them how much you hate them or how much they smell, so they’ll get all sad and not want to be around you anymore?”
And here I was the bad guy for stealing sentient robots’ umbrellas, Shining thought oddly, before clarifying. “More like… reminding them how awesome it was back when they were alive—reminding them all about hay burgers and waterparks and fireworks and those super colorful swirly straws restaurants put in fancy drinks that you can take back home after your meal.”
“Then what happens? After you tell them all that?”
“They turn back to normal, of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “Truthfully, zombies are mostly misunderstood creatures; ones lumped into a bad crowd long ago. But after you remind them how excellent it was to be alive? They cut out the whole brain eating thing in a jiffy.”
Still under her brother’s large hooves, Twilight’s shakes abated as she scrunched up her face. “You’re just making that up! Zombies don’t work that way!”
“Says who?” he rebutted. “When was the last time you hung around a zombie and quizzed them on how they work?”
“Well, never, but when did you!?”
Shining patted her head twice. “Alas, dear sister, how is it you keep forgetting that I’m an official member of the Band of Big Brothers?”
“Band of Best Brothers,” she once again corrected.
“Yes. Of course. More tests. Obviously.”
“What the difference between a normal brother and a Best Brother, anyway?”
Shining turned to watch the fire again. For the moment at least, Twilight seemed more interested in him than the dying storm outside. “Besides the collectable t-shirt and bi-monthly magazine subscription?”
“Yeah, besides that.” It sounded as if Twilight was still on the fence about Shining’s made-up group.
“Well,” Shining said, leaving the couch to pace around the room, “for starters, Best Brothers are far stronger than most average brothers. Ever wonder why I’m able to pick you up by the tail with just my horn? Best Brother strength.”
“So you train to be that strong?”
He held his head up high. “But of course!”
“So Cadence helps you train? Is that what you two are always doing in your room with the door shut?”
Shining’s face flushed; he continued on after giving his head a quick shake. “Furthermore, all Best Brothers must take a pledge; to always protect their parents as well as their—”
“Little sisters?” Twilight interrupted.
He gave a nod. “Yes, I was just getting to that. And their little sisters as best they can… unless they annoy them too much, of course. So I wouldn’t go annoying any official members of the Band of Best Brothers, i.e. me, anytime soon.”
“Gotcha.” Twilight was still studying him rather closely—just waiting for the moment when he’d slip up and all his big fibs would come crashing down around him. “Anything else I should know?”
Shining tapped at his chin, pondering. Then he saw something out of the rain-soaked window that gave him pause. “Yes, actually! And I can’t believe I almost forgot! Each Band of Big Brother members is gifted… what, four? Three? No five gifts to hoof out to others!”
“Like presents around the holidays?”
“No, no. More like…” he hesitated searching for the correct word. “More like a boon!”
“What’s a boon?” Twilight asked him.
Shining smiled goofily. “And here I thought little Ms. Sparkle here knew everything. That big tasty brain of yours that zombies are always after and all…”
Twilight growled deep within her throat. “Okay, so maybe I don’t know everything! But I’m getting there! Honest! Give me like two more weeks tops!”
“Fine,” Shining said. “A boon is like a present, only it’s not a material one. It’s more like a favor. And considering I’m only allowed to give out five of them over a lifetime, they end up being much larger favors than most.”
“So it’s like a wish?” Twilight asked with a hint of hopefulness in her voice.
“Exactly so.” Shining took another glance out the window; he knew he had to act fast. “So, Twily, if you could have one gigantic favor from your big brother right this second, what would it be?”
“That Mom and Dad would come home! Right this instant!” Twilight was so adamant about her request that she literally bounced up and down on the carpet in front of him.
Shining merely closed his eyes and gave a nod. Then he clapped two hooves together.
“Shining Armor, official member of the Band of Best Brothers, hereby deem Twilight Sparkle’s first official boon finished and paid in full.”
Twilight looked first to her left and then to her right, finding no parents in sight. Her ears fell flat against her head. “But, Shining, you said—”
“Shining? Twilight? Sorry we took so long; we had to wait until the storm died down. You two have any dinner yet?”
Like a launched purple cannonball, Twilight flew toward her parents, catching her father in the gut and causing him to double over with a grunt. Regardless of her father’s current condition, she remained latched onto him as if at any moment he’d be randomly sucked into a black hole.
“Sorry, Dad,” Twilight said, her head buried into his chest. “I would’ve run into Mom first, but I thought she might still be sore from all those karate lessons.”
“Karate lessons?” questioned her mother, raising a sharp brow in Shining’s direction, still standing in the living room, carefully off to the side.
“Oh… right.” Like a zipper, Twilight dragged a hoof along her lips. “It’s a secret. You two still want dinner? It’s the most important meal of the day, after all. Unless the cereal mascots got to you while you were out. Did they? Those Fabulous Fiber Friends always looked like trouble. Way too perky for ponies up so early. But of course they didn’t get to you. You know karate!”
Twilight’s parents only stared at her in complete silence.
She zipped her lips again. “Oh, that’s also a secret, isn’t it? The cereal mascots?” She turned to her brother. “Don’t worry. Shining’s a member of the Band of Best Brothers and can grant wishes if you ask him. Or did you already know about that?”
Her father only took off his rain slicker and shrugged. “You know what? Let’s save that conversation for another day. It’s been a long night already… so who’s up for a nice warm mug of hot chocolate before bed?”
The family collectively agreed to do just that.