It was a warm summer’s afternoon in the Cutie-Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse. Bright sunlight streamed in through the wonky windows, a half-empty barrel of iced water sat in the centre of the room, and a scattering of sweet-wrappers and empty glasses littered the floor. A light breeze crept through the scrappily-built wooden walls, and the door hung open, but it did little to stir the still air.
Apple Bloom sat draped across a salvaged sofa, carefully avoiding the sharp springs which poked through all over the cushions. Across from her, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were flopped on a patchy, threadbare carpet which had once been plush, lined with a collection of mismatched pillows. All three of them were dozing in the comfortable heat, with only the occasional flicker of the ear or kick of the leg to show they were alive.
It was just a lazy sort of day. Even the couple of flies that were buzzing about seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace.
And then a loud, angry, heavily-accented shout shattered the languid tranquillity.
“Hey, ‘Bloom, get ya’ flanks down here right now!” But there was no response, save a little snuffle from the filly, who then rolled over and nuzzled deeper into her ragged, makeshift bed.
“Don’t make me come up there, Missy. Ah’ll tan your hide if’n ya’ don’t get moving!” Only the sound of gentle breathing and sleepy mumbles answered her.
A minute passed, then a thunderous stomping shook the treehouse, creating ripples in the barrel-water and sending a small stack of snack-boxes tumbling down. A miniature house of cards set upon the single table collapsed in on itself as it was dislodged.
Sweetie Belle twitched and cracked an eye open, “Anyone feel that…“ She yawned, half-heartedly covering her mouth with a hoof, “Sounds like a tremor or something.” A small orange wing flicked out and gently closed her eyes again, sending her back to sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
‘S prob’ly fine.” Scootaloo muttered as she furled her wings once more.
Applejack appeared in the doorway, her powerful form casting a great shadow over the sleeping fillies as the sun shone behind her. The sun-bleached and weathered planks beneath her hooves cracked and splintered as she strode slowly forward, punctuating each step with an outraged thud. The light caught her eyes, making the reassuring emeralds glitter with a fire that threatened to set the whole farm ablaze. She stopped before her sister, surveying the slovenly state of affairs.
“Apple Bloom!” She roared, mere centimetres from the filly’s face. Outside, the trees emptied of birds in a storm of feathers and terrified squawking. Inside, the previously-chilled atmosphere was violently detonated. All three young ponies leapt from their stupor and charged for the door with sleep-addled balance and bleary eyes, hearts pounding like drums on the brink of destruction. They promptly crashed, coming to a stop in a pile of tangled limbs and whimpers as they looked up to confront the furious farmer.
“Uh, howdy, Sis?” Apple Bloom ventured, receiving a withering glance, that, could looks kill, would have had her digging her own grave on the spot.
“Why has Daisy jus’ told me she an’ her herd ha’nt seen food nor water all day?” Her tone was thick with angry venom. “And why, in Celestia’s Equestria, weren’t the pigs or chickens mucked out? Or the barn cleared? Or Mac’s yoke taken into town for repair?” Her hoof slammed down, kicking up a spray of mouldering wood and dust. She leaned in closely, until her hot breath was tickling her sister’s nose, and whispered, her voice low and dangerous. “You better have a pretty amazin’ explanation for doin’ squat all day, les’ you want to be sleepin’ outside tonight.”
“Eh. Couldn’t be bothered.” Her eyelids were slowly drooping already, now that the initial adrenaline surge had lost its sting. The Cutie-Mark Crusaders looked at each other, sighed, and slumped down dozily, their attention drifting rapidly from the enraged earth pony staring them down.
Apple Bloom didn’t have time to respond as a pair of jaws closed around the scruff of her neck and hoisted her up. She sluggishly flailed her legs, but to little avail as she was marched away, hanging like a new-born kitten.
The remaining fillies let out a long, collected sigh of relief and sank back.
“If she’s not in school next week, we assume Applejack’s used her as fertiliser, right?” Sweetie asked as her eyes closed.
“Sure, but let’s deal with that later. Dash is picking me up in a bit and I could do with a quick nap after that trauma.”
A few hours later, as the sun had begun its downward drift towards the horizon and the shadows were stretching long, a distressed Applejack was pacing around the cramped basement of Twilight’s castle. On a table before her, Apple Bloom sat slouched against a metal machine full of chaotically-blinking lights with a sulky pout on her face and the occasional resigned grumble coming from her frowning lips.
Across from her, Twilight fretted with a series of complicated instruments, holding a large array of small scopes, forceps, and complicated pieces of magical, twisted metal with functions unknown.
“I’m sorry, Applejack, but your little sister seems perfectly healthy.” Twilight said as she shone a tiny ball of glowing light into the captive filly’s eyes, watching carefully as each pupil contracted. “And I’m sorry to say, laziness is not a disease, whatever you may believe, neither can I ‘cure’ it without the use of forbidden, mind-altering magic.” She turned aside and began to sort her medical tools back into their proper places. “Maybe she’s just tired? Those three are always running around like madponies, after all.” She smirked, “You haven’t even asked her that yet, have you?”
“She can’t be bothered, Twi- She’s never shirked her work, ever! Then today I go off to the Spa with you girls, and she’s done sweet sod-all.” The farmer shook her head in disbelief, “I just don’t get it. Ponies don’t just, well, stop working like that.”
“Hey, Apple Bloom.” Twilight asked, prodding the filly in the back to get her attention, “Are you sleeping properly at the moment? Nothing keeping you up late?”
“Kinda, maybe? I dunno.” She stifled a yawn, “It’s boring down here, can I go back t’ the clubhouse now?” As Applejack turned to tell her sister off, the basement door slammed open, revealing a panting Rarity and a grave-looking Rainbow Dash.
“Twilight! It’s an emergency!” They both yelled at once, dashing towards her. They stumbled as they tried to push past each other on the narrow steps, causing Rarity to take an ungraceful tumble down, whilst Rainbow simply launched herself into the air and raced down, landing with a small victorious bounce, before her frown turned serious.
“I went to pick Scoots up, right? We were gonna get some flying practice in before she went home, y’know, to try and get her up in the air at last.” Her tone turned desperate, “Normally she’s, like, four-hundred-percent hyped for it, ‘cos who wouldn’t- I’m Rainbow Dash. Today, though, we got airborne, and she’s normally screaming and cheering on my back, but she was so…Uh, what’s that word?”
“Dull? Flat? Downright bored wingless?” Applejack offered, earning an affirmative nod.
“Psh.” Rarity tutted, shoving the Pegasus aside with a rather unladylike shoulder-barge. “I don’t blame the poor dear, even I can only watch you crash so many times before it becomes- how should I say- Drear.” She sat back, putting a dramatic hoof to her head, “Oh, but woe is me, for I bring grave news: Sweetie Belle has fallen horribly ill!”
Twilight gasped, “What’s the matter with her?”
“She…” A tear began to well in the corner of her finely shadowed eyes, “…Wasn’t interested when I offered her a chance to do some sewing on one of my new creations! It’s always been her dream to help me so, and now she merely lies there in the middle of the shop, grumbling when she’s awake, snoring daintily when she’s not.”
Twilight deadpanned. She rose up to say something, but then thought better of it and tucked her wings back away. She put a hoof to her chest and slowly extended it away, letting out a long, slow breath.
“Right then.” She said, her voice perfectly calm, “I don’t suppose either of you asked what was wrong?” She received two vigorous shakes of the head. “Great. Well, due to the lack of experience, or evidence of any ailments, I can guess that this is just the same as the issue I had with Spike a few years ago.”
“What might that be, dear?” Rarity enquired, her eyes shining with a worried curiosity.
“They’re bored. So bored. Really, really, incomprehensibly bored.” The gathered ponies gasped. “Imagine the best day ever.” She paused for a moment, “Okay, now think how fun that would be doing it every single day for a month. It really loses its edge, doesn’t it?”
Applejack tilted her head and hummed approvingly, “I think I see where you’re comin’ from, Sugarcube.”
“Good. Now think if every day for the past two or three years was the same, bar the once or twice Equestria was nearly destroyed, of course.” She let a smile of confidence show, “And that, my good friends, is why they’re bored to tears.”
“Yeah, cool. How do we make them, uh, un-bored then? Scoots is my number one fan! I can’t have her moping around like some sorta old, grey librari-“ She looked up suddenly, feeling Twilight’s glare and quickly reconsidered her word choice, “-I mean, an office pony, or something like that.” She correct nervously.
“Do something significantly different from usual- And I don’t mean sew a different coloured dress, or perform an extra loopy stunt.” She looked at the fashionista and the speedster, both of them sporting sheepish grins. “Try swapping foals or something, maybe Sweetie would respond better to feeling the wind in her mane, or maybe Scootaloo would like to try getting mucky on a farm- And didn’t Apple Bloom want to try making some dresses a while back?”
The three mares looked at each other and nodded. Applejack stepped forward, hoisting her gently-dozing sister up onto her back, “We’ll try it, Twilight. Thanks for the advice.” She turned away to leave, but then stopped suddenly. “By the way, how’d you deal with Spike? I’d guess being a library assistant must get real gratin’ after a while.”
Twilight started the laborious process of shutting down and cleaning off her equipment. “Oh, him? I just locked him out until he admitted books weren’t boring. Worked faster than anything- he was begging to come back in when it started hailing. Haven’t heard a moan about it since.” She answered nonchalantly. And then she realised everyone was staring at her, eyes wide with surprise. She shrugged, “I wasn’t exactly the Princess of Friendship back then, you know? He just caught me on a bad day. I probably apologised afterwards.”
Her friends left in silence, pondering the ruthlessness of their bookish friend. Every day they learned something new, but perhaps not all the new things should have been learned.
A day later, as the sun had reached its zenith and the bright light was setting the whole of the town aglow with a beautiful vibrancy, Twilight was sitting in the park on a checked picnic blanket nibbling a daisy sandwich from a small wicker hamper. Beside her, Spike was tucking into a small mound of gemstone cupcakes, courtesy of Pinkie’s spare time and Twilight’s money. It was a pleasant enough day, with the birds twittering and fluttering throughout the trees, the pegasi looping around and playing on the thermals, and a few foals laughing and playing in the lake. It had been a while since she’d just taken a day off of Princessly duties without some sort of imminent disaster threatening Equestria’s safety, and the warm sun felt so lovely on her back, accompanied by the light, cool breeze that she could definitely see herself taking a bit more time to herself in the future.
“So, Twi, not that I’m not grateful- and believe me, these cupcakes are awesome- but why are you treating us to a day off in the middle of the week?” Spike asked, trying determinedly to lick the flecks of frosting and gem dust from his face.
“Oh, no reason. I just thought that perhaps Starlight deserved a chance to run the place, and it’s such a nice day out here, so why not?” She answered brightly, smiling over at him. He shrugged, nodded his thanks, and went back to enthusiastically stuffing his face.
The Princess of Friendship could do without rumours circulating about her ‘abusing’ her staff. It hadn’t been hailing too hard that day, and he had those tough dragon scales. If anything, she was just hardening him up for real life. Those dragons were ruthless beasts, after all, she could hardly call him a friend if she hadn’t done her part to prepare him.
Her mental justifications were cut short as a trio of weary ponies wandered up to her and sat down heavily. They let out a chorus of sighs as three fillies meandered along behind them, dragging their hooves and staggering as their eyelids kept drooping. They reached the blanket and lay down in a heap, lightly snoozing.
“Twilight, dear, your idea, whilst absolutely welcome and well-intentioned was-“ She looked around at her orange and cyan comrades, all wearing equally defeated expressions. They nodded at some unseen proposal and she continued, “-A load of utter flying ponyfeathers. Instead of Sweetie Belle sitting around like a sleepy spare part, I had Apple Bloom, who, for about six stiches managed to keep her interest up, before she fell asleep and somehow sewed her mane to the dress. Two hours it took to unpick her!”
Rainbow cringed and looked down. Her mane and fur were damp, as if she’d recently been bathing, and the mixed scents of at multiple expensive coat-conditioners drifted from her. “Sweetie doesn’t like flying. At all. She- No. Not at all”
Rarity took over, sensing her difficulty in sharing, “The poor dear gets awfully flight-sick. Rainbow here learned that the hard, and quite foul, way.”
“Three bottles,” The Pegasus whimpered, “And I still can’t get the feeling off my neck.”
Twilight looked at her sympathetically and her horn lit up, firing a single purple spark which landed on Rainbow’s forehead. She closed her eyes and her brow furrowed in concentration. A moment later, the spark dissipated.
Rainbow blinked, suddenly unsteady, but after a few tottering steps, the dizziness passed. “Hey, what was that?” She asked hotly.
“Sensabandon.” She answered, “It wipes a certain few horrible sensations from your recent memory.”
Applejack raised a suspicious eyebrow, “Ain’t that some of the ‘forbidden mind-altering magic’ you refused to cast earlier?”
Twilight shrugged, “I had to foalsit Flurry Heart for a week when Cadance and my brother went away to some summit. Do you have any idea how sensitive a foal’s stomach is? Starlight came up with the spell so I didn’t bankrupt the Crystal Empire in claims for conditioner.” She blanched, resting a comforting hoof on Rainbow’s foreleg, “There are some things that you can’t just wash away.” She said softly, “Then we use magic.”
“Anywho,” Applejack interrupted, “If you’ve finished bein’ the Princess o’ Hypocrits, do ya’ have any other suggestions?” She kicked her hooves nervously, “And please keep Scootaloo away from my farm- she fair near drowned herself when she fell asleep in the mud, an’ the chickens kept on flockin’ to her for some reason.” She sighed, “She ended up so covered in feathers an’ stinkin’ so bad me and Mac had to hose her down ‘fore we came out.”
Twilight put a hoof to her chin and lost herself in thought. Maybe her plans hadn’t worked out quite as they should, but at least her friends could see she was caring for her assistant. Her eyes strayed too the fillies, and then it struck her. “Have you tried getting them to use their talents?”
The three mares gasped and clopped their hooves. “That’s simply the perfect idea, Darling, I can’t believe we didn’t think of it sooner!”
“Now let’s find a pony strugglin’ to get their mark, like those two colts over there.” Applejack nodded to a pair of young, blank-flanked colts splashing around in the shallows of the lake, heading a beach ball to each other.
With a little help to stand upright, a considerable amount of verbal encouragement, and a firm shove in the right direction, they sent the three fillies off.
Twilight smiled smugly. “It was such an obvious answer, I really wasn’t thinking properly yesterday, was I?”
A minute passed, and she offered a few sandwiches around from her picnic basket, which were all graciously accepted. It turned out that handling someone else’s mindlessly-bored filly all morning didn’t give much time for eating. Or in Dash’s case, removed her appetite completely.
They sat there for a few minutes, quietly eating and enjoying the sun and company, until a soft snoring sound caught their ears. The Cutie-Mark Crusaders had returned without their knowledge and presently lay together, using the corner of the blanket as a thin makeshift duvet.
As one, the mares looked down at the bank, and sure enough, the two colts now had their cutie-marks. One of them was swimming up and down the lake, outpacing several of the pegasi who had dropped in for a cooling dip; the other was standing his ground as a single pony against a volleyball team on the grass nearby, effortlessly returning every professional ball with pinpoint precision, despite his short legs.
Their collective jaw dropped, and they were rendered speechless for a good few moments as they tried to comprehend what they saw.
Eventually, Twilight snapped out of her stupor, her face turning utterly grim. “Girls.” She said slowly, her tone layered with stern severity, “I’ve seen this problem before. I was wrong, this wasn’t what Spike went though. No, this was what I went through years and years ago.” Her dark frown brought worried looks her friends.
“W-what do you mean, dear?” Rarity stammered, her lip trembling.
The alicorn patted her mane and rose to her hooves. “I’m afraid that knowledge cannot be shared with anyone who does not definitely need to know.” She said mysteriously, “Just know that Celestia herself agrees with this…method, and she did, in fact, use it on me. I’d like to think I turned out just fine because of it.”
“You know we trust y’, Twilight, so if you think this method o’ yours’ll help the Crusaders get back to normal, then jus’ tell us what we need to do.” Applejack said resolutely, pulling her hat back so she should watch Twilight properly, “But please, don’t go lockin’ them out in the hail or anythin’, ‘Bloom gets the sniffles awful easy.”
Her plead was met with a frown, and Spike looked up, a cupcake halfway to his mouth, “Oh, hey, the ol’ ‘Lock ‘em out ‘til they admit defeat’ technique, right?” He snorted, “It’s a good one, mind. Sure it sucks when it’s hailing outside,” He glared meaningfully at his employer, “But it sure worked well when I used it on Starlight. She hasn’t called me a ‘Pipsqueak dragon-runt’ or a ‘Draconic failure’ since. I don’t think it was even hailing that hard. I’d have thought all those years in the frozen north would have toughened her up, after all.” They all stared at him as he went back to his food, though Twilight looked more than a little proud.
“I can assure you my methods are beyond that these days.” Twilight said, bringing back their attention. “Just leave them with me at the castle this afternoon, and I promise you they’ll be back up to their crazy crusading in no time.”
Several hours later, as night was falling on Equestria and the moon was just beginning to cast its silvery glow across the land, four ponies and three fillies stood in Twilight’s castle foyer.
“See, girls, I promised you it would work.” Twilight beamed, the three fillies charging around with completely renewed energy, capes waving from their shoulders as they darted back and forth across the large crystal room.
“Well I’ll be…” Applejack watched in amazement, “I thought I was gonna have t’ send her over to Auntie Orange’s place if’n she didn’t perk up, so she could fit in with all them boring types.”
Rainbow Dash smiled and chuckled as Scootaloo leapt onto her back and whooped, forehooves flailing excitedly in the air. “Seems you got Scoots back to normal. Just as well, I was about to go offer private flying lessons with The Dash to the next little filly.” She leaned back and ruffled the orange pegasus’s mane fondly. “I don’t know what you did, and I don’t mind not knowing.” She turned and kicked at the floor, launching herself into the air with her eagerly shrieking passenger holding tight around her neck. “We’re gonna hit the skies for a few minutes- we’ve got two days of flying to make up for, so hold on tight, Scoots!” With that, they disappeared out the window in a blazing trail of prismatic light and a delighted scream.
“Rarity, Rarity, Rarity!” Sweetie Belle bounced on her hooves in front of her sister, tugging at her mane.
“Yes, Sweetie, Dear?” The fashionista smirked.
“I’ve got this totally amazing-“ she squeaked with excitement, “-Idea for a dress and cape combination. Can we get back so I can show you?” She leapt up on her sister at the faintest nod, and earning a happy, if resigned sigh.
“I suppose we should be off, it’s getting late now, after all.” She looked at Twilight, offering her every solemn thanks she could in a single gaze. “And Twilight, thank you ever so much. If there’s anything we can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask, please.”
The princess waved her off with a good-mannered laugh, “Don’t worry about it, I was happy to help.”
Soon, only Twilight and Applejack remained, with Apple Bloom lying snorting loudly on a cushion to the side, having worn herself out. The farmer swept her up and placed her on her back, ready to carry the sleeping filly home, and the she caught sight of the Crusader cape up close.
“Twilight, do you know what this means? They’ve gone and scribbled something on it in purple, can’t quite read ‘Bloom’s writing.”
“Oh, that.” Twilight chuckled, “It says ‘PC’. Not sure what it means exactly though.” Applejack’s honesty saw straight through her light-hearted façade, her inquisitive look boring into the alicorn.
“What in the hay did you do to them?”
Twilight looked around her furtively. When she saw the room was absolutely empty aside from them, she moved in closer and began to whisper. “They’d finished. They achieved their cutie-marks, and like me all those years ago, that exhilarating chase ended. They weren’t just bored, they were aimless. So I told them what Celestia told me to get me back on my hooves, raring to go.”
Applejack looked equal parts sceptical and relieved, “Thank the stars you didn’t go usin’ none o’ your mind-messin’ magic again. Ain’t right for usin’ on a filly.” She turned to leave, “But what did you tell them?”
Twilight leaned in until her lips were almost touching the farmer’s ear.
“You got your cutie-mark, congratulations. But why stop there? Work hard enough at that talent, and who knows where you’ll end up?” She moved away with a smirk.
Applejack blinked, then gulped nervously, her eyes growing wide. “You told them how to become alicorns, didn’t you?” Twilight remained silent, her smile widening as the realisation came. “Equestria ain’t ready for this- You’ve damned us all Twilight.”