//------------------------------// // 1 // Story: The Truth // by Jet Cannon //------------------------------// The Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse had seen more exciting days. Over the course of its use by the three young, blank-flanked fillies who called it “Headquarters” (or whatever had been decided the previous day in classes), it had been host to performance rehearsals, model building, sleepovers, the occasional party, band practices…whatever the CMC had decided to try in their on-going quest of self-discovery. Today, however, saw little happening. At present, only two of the three Crusaders were actually inside: Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. The pink-and-purple-maned, white-bodied Unicorn was sitting at their desk, absent-mindedly flicking through the pages of the latest issue of the Foal Free Press. The red-maned, yellow-bodied Earth pony was sleepily staring out of the window at the fine drizzle descending from the sky, keeping an eye out for the arrival of their fellow Crusader. “Scootaloo’s late. Again.” Apple Bloom announced with a yawn. She accepted that her friend was hardly what could be called a “morning pony”, but sometimes the amount of time she took to arrive at weekends seemed a bit ridiculous. “Maybe the rain’s weighing down her wings?” suggested Sweetie Belle. This was not, as Apple Bloom realised, a suggestion that she was finding it difficult to fly through the weather (there were a number of reasons behind Scootaloo’s being called “The Chicken”), but rather that her scooter’s main method of propulsion may not be available, forcing her to push it along with her hoof instead. “Maybe.” Apple Bloom continued staring out of the window, resting her chin on the sill as the drizzle seemed to get slightly heavier. Before too long an orange-and-magenta-coloured blur appeared in the near distance, and after a minute or two of damp wing-fluttering the third and final Crusader was present. “Ugh! I hate it when it drizzles like this,” complained the young Pegasus as she pulled off her safety gear and gave herself a shake, managing to drench the other two in the process. Ignoring their cries of protest, Scootaloo perked up suddenly, and began talking excitedly. “Oh yeah, I just remembered! I’ve thought of something that could help us figure out how to get our cutie marks!” “What is it?” her friends both asked, also excitedly, all memories of the soaking forgotten now that they were finally getting down to business. “We must, surely, be kinda like our families, right?” Scootaloo began as they all sat down in a small circle. “So I was thinking that maybe we should think about what our families all do, and use them as ideas of what to try for next?” “That’s a great idea, Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle said, before face-hoofing the next second. “Why didn’t I think of that?” “’Cos you’re not me!” Scootaloo grinned cheekily. Her friend was not impressed. “Well seeing as you’re so great, how about you go first then, huh?” “Oh, right…yeah, um…” The small Pegasus smiled sheepishly. “To be honest mine aren’t the greatest examples. My dad works in a bank, which is boring, and my mom’s a hairdresser, which we’ve already tried so…” The three gave a collective shudder as they remembered the outcome of that particular escapade. “Anyway, what about you Sweetie Belle? What do your family do?” “Well, you both know Rarity and what she does, of course. And how much she appreciates our help with that.” “Yeah, not at all,” Apple Bloom said, glumly. “Yeah. But she got into dressmaking from my mom, who runs a clothes repair shop. In fact, before she and dad moved to Canterlot, that’s what the Carousel Boutique used to be!” “Really?” “Yep. Then mom sold it to Rarity, and she made it into the Carousel Boutique.” “What about your dad?” asked Scootaloo. “Dad plays golf.” Another bad memory, another collective shudder. “Oh well, it was worth a shot,” Scootaloo rallied. “Apple Bloom, your whole family does apple stuff, doesn’t it?” The small Earth pony perked up and nodded. “Yup! Big Macintosh and Applejack work the farm and orchard every day! An’ Granny Smith helps out with some things, but most of what she does is makin’ the cider an’ zap apple jam nowadays.” “What about your parents? What do they do?” asked Scootaloo. “Yeah, how come we never see them on the farm?” No sooner had Sweetie Belle finished talking than she regretted her question. Apple Bloom looked infinitely sad for a moment, and although she quickly recovered her composure, some of the pain remained in her eyes. “Well, mah parents ain’t around no more, they died in an accident when ah was just a baby.” Shocked silence filled the clubhouse for several painful seconds, and both her friends had their front hooves in front of their mouths. After what seemed an eternity to them all, Scootaloo finally managed to whisper: “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Apple Bloom…” Sweetie Belle was quick to apologise as well. “Yeah, me too! I had no idea!” But Apple Bloom just shook her head resignedly. “Nah, it’s ok. Ah mean, Ah never really knew them, and Ah don’t remember them, and the only reason Ah know what they look like is ‘cos Ah’ve seen pictures. It would have been nice to have them still, and Applejack always said how they were the greatest Mom and Dad a filly could ask for, but even so Ah’ve always had Applejack, and Big Macintosh, and Granny Smith. They were always there to look after me, and to be honest I’ve actually been really lucky to have them.” Apple Bloom smiled at her two friends and drew them both into a close hug, neither noticing a single tear running down the Earth pony’s face before being wiped away.