//------------------------------// // A Belle to Behold // Story: Canterlot Adventures // by The Blue EM2 //------------------------------// Bright Mac-sorry, Pa- started the truck’s engine, and released the brakes. We pulled out onto the highway, and drove down the road through the parade of glorious trees resplendent in their Spring colours. Easter was approaching, and that only one thing. But I’ll tell you about that later. Pa hit the radio, and the song that came up couldn’t have been more fitting. “Hey, it’s King’s Highway, by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers!” Big Mac noted. “Good song, ain’t it?” Pa replied. “Apparently, he’ll be playing Canterlot soon and Ah was thinkin’ of goin’. Anybody interested?” I was confused for a moment, and then realised that the year here was 2014. That meant he hadn’t died yet. “Sounds a good idea,” I said, with a smile. “Count me in!” added Big Mac. “Yeehaw!” Applejack added. As we rolled along, I just looked out of the window enjoying the scenery. I was so happy to see this all again, it nearly having been lost to me forever. The mountains could be seen in the difference, with sunlight flowing down the hills and bathing the town in beautiful sunshine. This truck had a smooth ride, in spite of the retro styling. If they were to be truly authentic, the suspension would lurch periodically like a bucking bronco! And no, I didn’t just swear. We pulled up in the parking lot, and I jumped out of the truck, grabbing my bag as I did so. “Be careful!” called Pa. “We only just got ya back!” “Ah’ll be careful!” I replied, starting to walk forward and into the school building. As I walked down the corridor, I heard surprised voices speaking. “It’s Apple Bloom!” said one. “How is that even possible?” asked another. I walked on, determined to find two people in particular. I found one of them easily enough. Scootaloo was slumped against a wall, her expression vacant and her eyes puffy. It was clear she had lost all willpower and strength, as normally she’d be talking with Sweetie Belle about now. “Howdy Scoots!” I said, trying to lighten the mood. She looked up with a look of apprehension and guilt. “OK, so the depression clearly wasn’t enough, now I’m going mad,” was all she said. “What ya mean? Ah’m right here, in front of ya, ain’t Ah?” Scootaloo got up, and glared at me. “You’re dead, Apple Bloom! You’re dead! People don’t just come back to life, this isn’t a Disney movie! I think I can safely conclude that none of this is real, and I’m just losing my mind!” “Ah wouldn’t be able to react to what ya sayin’ if I weren’t here,” I replied flatly. “No!” Scootaloo shot back. “My brain is just making this up! I’m only hearing what I want to hear.” I sighed, and leaned forward, closing my hand around hers. “If Ah were a ghost, Ah wouldn’t be able to touch ya,” I told her. “Are ya convinced now, Thomas?” Scootaloo looked utterly shocked. She simply stood up, took a close look, and put her hand on my shoulder. “If you were just air,” she replied, “my hand would have gone straight through you.” It took her brain a moment to comprehend the significance of this. Then she threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re back!” I returned in kind. “Ah’d never leave mah friends in the lurch, Scoots,” I replied. “Now then, where’s Sweetie Belle?” “I haven’t seen her,” the young athlete replied. “Nor have I seen Pip. He’s probably around though; he wouldn’t miss school for anything.” I mentally groaned. Nodding, I stepped backward and spoke again. “Thanks for that. Ah hope nobody else is too surprised though.” “Things have been a little crazy around here lately,” Scootaloo admitted. “Flying students, she-demons, overcompetitive students-” “Well, that’s funny, comin’ from you!” I joked. “HEY!” she exclaimed. “I get enough grief from liking Rumble. And DON’T mention Sweetie Belle loudly blurting out the fact I took dance as my elective!” “Ah’d imagine you’d be good for that,” I said, teasing her. “You’re nimble, got dainty feet, look so sweet in a dr-” “SHUT UP!” Scootaloo shouted, her normally orange face having gone purple. “I don’t like being seen as girly, OK?” “Yer secret’s safe with me, partner,” I smiled. Just then, the bell went. “Great; another day, another lesson with Mr Discord.” “He is a little zany, I will admit,” Scootaloo smiled. “But even though the lessons may be dull and hellish, at least you don’t have to go through them alone.” “Aw, thanks Scoots,” I said. Now where had I heard that before? I know! “Well, at least Anon-a-Miss didn’t happen in this world,” I said to myself. “Who’s Anon-a-Miss?” asked Scootaloo. “Cause that would the WORST alias ever. I mean, seriously, ‘Anon-a-Miss'? That’s just screaming ‘I’m doing something suspicious’!” The lesson was a little more challenging, but again was explained in an incomprehensible manner. Mr Discord pointed at the board, speaking quickly. Too quickly. “And thus, the square of the hypotenuse is the sum of the squares of the two sides.” Scootaloo looked at me. She had a look of utter bafflement on her face. “Sorry sir,” she spoke up. “But why do we need to know the hippopotamus?” “No, no!” Discord replied. “The hypotenuse!” In a whirl, he was suddenly dressed as a Redcoat. “I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical, I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical, About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news, With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.” There was a flash of light, and he was suddenly back to his suit and tie. “This theorem is infinitely useful, as it allows you to figure out the extract length of an object or line in any given case.” He indicated to Scootaloo. “Say you were trying to recover a soccer ball from a tree. If you calculated the length of the ground, then calculated the height of the tree, you would know how long the ladder would need to be!” He simply got a look of confusion from the girl. “Sorry, I didn’t understand that. At all.” “May Ah try?” I asked. Mr Discord looked surprised. “I suppose so,” he said. “You explained algebra well, so I suppose this won’t hurt.” I stepped up to the board, and drew a triangle. “Now, there are three sides to a Right-Angled triangle,” I said. Helpfully, I marked them as A, B, and C. “C is what is called the hypotenuse, or the longest side. In order ta calculate the longest side, we use the followin’ theorem; A2+B2=C2.” I wrote this on the board, wiped the letters off and wrote down two numbers. Against A I put the number 3, and against B I put the number 2. “This makes this question 32+22,” I told them. “What does that add up ta?” “5!” shouted Snips, from the back. “That’s 3 plus 2,” I answered. “What squared stands for is the number multiplied by itself.” I rewrote the equation with some brackets: (3x3) + (2x2) =. “Now what does that make?” I asked. Scootaloo’s hand shot up. “13!” “Good,” I said. “But that makes C squared, not C. All we have ta do is to find the square root of C.” I took out my calculator and punched in the numbers. “3.6!” answered a student. “Rounded ta one decimal place, yes,” I said to him. Mr Discord smiled. “Now for a real challenge. What if they were to give you C and B, but NOT A?” He rewrote the board, and put some different numbers on it. C was now 6, and B had become 4, but A was just...A. Scootaloo was suddenly on a roll. “First we need to rewrite the formula as A2 +42 = 62!” I wrote this down. “Then square them!” added Featherweight. The equation now looked as follows; A2 + 16 = 36. “Err, what do we do now?” Rumble asked, looking confused. I started writing again, rearranging it to read 36-16=A2. “A2=20!” Scootaloo answered. Featherweight produced his calculator. “Square root of 20 is 4.5!” “Ta one decimal place!” I added, writing that last figure on the board. Mr Discord looked at the board. “That’s correct!” he exclaimed. “Now, I’d like you to answer these 10 questions before the end of the lesson. Make sure to show full working in your answers.” Once the lesson was over, Scootaloo and myself, alongside Rumble, filed out and headed out through the door. “That was awesome Apple Bloom!” Rumble said. “Thanks buddy,” I replied. “Ya doin’ anythin’ particular this evenin’?” Scootaloo asked me. “We’re havin’ a party at Sweet Apple Acres, so yeah,” I replied. Scootaloo nodded. “Rumble and me are goin’ over my place,” she said. “My aunts are keen to meet him.” “Ah hope you two lovebirds have fun,” I smiled. “Hey!” Rumble exclaimed. “We’re just friends!” “Ah was only teasin’,” I laughed. “See ya!” I stepped outside, heading for the car park when I saw Button Mash talking to Sweetie Belle. But something about Sweetie Belle’s manner wasn’t quite right. “Howdy, y’all!” I called. Sweetie Belle glanced over to me. “Hi Apple Bloom!” she called. “Hey, Button, do ya mind if me and Sweetie Belle talk for a bit?” I asked. “Sure, take your time,” Button replied. “And it’s ‘Sweetie Belle and I’!” I shrugged. “He knows what Ah mean.” “So, what’s this about Apple Bloom?” I paused, bracing myself for her response. “You fell outa the portal, right?” Sweetie Belle gasped. “How did you know?” “’Cause Ah did. Does the name Tom Haddington ring a bell?” “The brony who vanished at BronyCon? It was on the news!” Sweetie Belle squealed. “Well, Ah was Haddington. Ah lived as Apple Bloom for months, and Ah’m here for good. Now then, what was yer name originally?” “Jimmy Hook. But I go by Sweetie Belle now!” “OK. Look, Ah imagine yer probably scared and confused, but-” “Are you kidding?” Sweetie Belle interrupted. “This is the best day of my life!” I was confused. “Yer sayin’ you wanted to be transformed?” “Well, Sweetie Belle is my favourite Crusader, and now I AM her! WHOO!” Sweetie Belle punched the air in excitement. This was certainly new. I simply shrugged my shoulders. “Well, if ya need help with anythin’, know you can call me. Ah’m over at Sweet Apple Acres.” A loud horn beeped from across the car park. “Apple Bloom!” called Pa. “Ah gotta go!” I called. “Enjoy yer evenin’, and don’t forget we got some Crusadin’ to do this Sunday!” “Got it!” Sweetie Belle replied. I hoped into the truck, and Pa looked back with a smile. “What were you discussing with Sweetie Belle?” “Just some plans for Sunday,” I replied. “You goin’ Crusadin’ again?” “Yup!” I exclaimed. “Ah can’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon!” “If only Ah had half the imagination you do,” Pa laughed, as he put the truck into gear and set off up the highway.