That night, in Apple Bloom's room, the trio added the absolute last finishing touches on their report, making sure to mention that arranged marriages and marriages to secure alliances had been outlawed by the Aerie. Mainly because the Aerie took consent so seriously, that its particularly grouchy residents simply wouldn't tolerate anything else, or so they figured. That, and they made sure to mention it in tandem with the whole sordid business of child brides and how the Aerie punished that particular crime, complete with ION Cannon target practice if the individual performing said practice was vile enough to warrant such overkill.
A few clicks of the stapler to bind the report into its own book, with pictures further stapled in relevant places by their corners only cemented things, and now they could tuck it away in Apple Bloom's writing desk for the morrow. They made sure to bind it between the pages of another book, to keep it hidden in case any dastardly ne'er-do-wells decided to try and get their mitts on it. The fat stack of reference pictures, meanwhile, was tucked away in a spare box, and that box placed into a drawer for safekeeping. Once that was done, they set up their sleeping bags, finished whatever other businesses needed doing, and then hunkered down for the night. Lyra had taken Opalescence back to the Boutique, which the cat certainly seemed to appreciate.
Of course, they wouldn't get to use their new gear right away despite having had it brought with them, which suited them just fine anyway. There would be plenty of time for practice, and school loomed over the horizon once again. For now though, each box had been squirreled away in the corners of the Crusaders' individual rooms in their places of residence, taken by the ponies either living there or keeping tabs on things in the absence of the original owners. But just in case any of their classmates decided to ask before the debut, the adults in charge of the individual areas had agreed to keep the matter a secret for now. And just in case any aforementioned dastardly ne'er-do-wells got their grubby mitts on their goods, Discord made duplicates to keep on his person, should they find themselves a critical report short.
And yet, they couldn't sleep—they were abuzz with excitement. They finished their report. They had their cutie marks. A dastardly foalsitter and a wicked noble had been banished. They got to see their sisters and idol, and their sister and idol's friends. They were home, and ready to tackle tomorrow.
Yet they knew something was gravely wrong, though not necessarily with Equestria. Redpine was due to make its move any day against the Aerie now, but if they could handle Godcat, they could handle a bunch of wannabe tin-pot tyrants, they reasoned. But the fact that most of said wannabes had been in multiple places at once still managed to worry them. Would they be able to replicate the end of the Trials of Attrition on the first day of this new, impending war? Or would it all be for naught?
And not to mention the Canterlot nobility deciding to make diplomacy a bigger pain in the plot, if Twilight's words were any indication. They probably were making their own plans, even now, anticipating the Fantasians like one would anticipate a chess match… except in this instance, they lacked a critical detail. That detail being, the Fantasians didn't play chess; they much preferred kickboxing the other ponies in their faces until they either died or surrendered, whichever came first.
Which, for a planet not particularly known for cutie marks, made sense. That was one advantage the nobility wouldn't have: the element of dropping meteors, giant swords from Tartarus and space lasers on their opposition with particularly poignant precision and impunity. And the Greenwood Blight, even though they were sure Lance was hastily writing a few laws to address the usage of such parasitic plants. And the sky pirates, if the nobles managed to anger them somehow.
The fact that, according to Twilight, some were hoping to get Natalie hitched into their family trees was… laughable. She was about as pure of blood as she was pure of heart; some goodness was in her, but the nobility would be quite cankled to hear she smeared a few ponies' brains across a few walls in her lifetime, and would probably kick unwanted suitors in their beans before the talks of marriage would even see the light of day. She was the type of good that wasn't known for its soft and plushy personality outside of rare moments where professionalism wasn't warranted; she was as cold as steel, when professionalism and duty called her to the forefront of Fantasian antics. And probably as sharp as steel, now that they thought about it.
And compared to most of the nobility, she was practically a kickboxing champion—not ideal bride material, when one tried to adopt the alien mindset of the nobles and come close to dividing by zero in the process. Even now, they could only collectively ask in the backs of their minds: "What in the sweet, sweet Tartarus were the Canterlot nobility thinking?"
Further compounding that issue was Natalie's status as a Lieutenant-General, and of the fact that the Aerie—once again—considered consent as valid and important as Godcat's existence. She'd probably laugh at the nobility's potentially pathetic excuses for marriage proposals first, before beaning them in the beans with her back hooves. They only saw that scenario playing out one way, and it was one where Princess Celestia had the popcorn ready. And maybe Princess Cadence too, considering she was the Princess of Love, something that the nobility might have dismissed as a senseless platitude, a useless immaterial concept fit only for a luxury without benefits.
Or at least, that's what the Crusaders thought of the nobility, after the kerfuffle with ex-Duke Aegis. He did screw up big enough for Celestia to have him hurled to the Aerie's wolves after all, and had a whole heap of evidence stacked against him to boot. The nobility probably wasn't thinking things in the long term, beyond their own senseless self-gratification and the continuation of ancient bloodlines, whose founders might be presently rolling in whatever graves or ash urns they now dwelled in.
But soon, they had to shelve those worries; sleep came calling after all, and would not wait for them to drift off. It dropped on their heads like hammers, and watched with glee as their eyes slipped closed and they snuggled into their sleeping bags. They did remember to set the alarm clock earlier, and were sure it could wake them up in time for the day ahead. And if not, then Big Mac would rouse them from sleep, and nudge them towards breakfast and school.
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The alarm clock sang to announce the start of the day for two of the Crusaders, who yawned and rubbed their eyes as the incessant drone more or less blared in their ears. Apple Bloom was already up, stuffing the report and photos into her saddlebags, grinning giddily as she pranced in place. "Girls, girls, girls! Breakfast is made, and we gotta eat!" she sang, before darting out of the room like her hooves were ablaze. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo trudged out of their sleeping bags with more yawning, though as they left the room and meandered down the stairs, they found themselves awakening faster as they smelled home-cooked food from the kitchen.
By the time they were at the table, they were awake enough to start their day in full. Two extra chairs had been placed for them to sit at, their saddlebags already hanging off of the chairs' backs as they tucked in to hearty stacks of syrupy pancakes and nice, cold orange juice. Granny Smith was at the table, beaming at the three. "Right flashy cutie marks y'all got there," she said in approval. "Didn't think we'd have ourselves an engineer in our family tree," she added, looking pointedly at Apple Bloom.
"Eeyup. And after school, I wanna hear about how y'all got 'em," Big Mac said with a grin of his own. He reached over the table to pat Apple Bloom's head. Apple Bloom giggled, and Big Mac asked, "Didja have a cute-ceañera on Fantasia?"
Apple Bloom nodded. "Ayup. Lance and his ponies and gryphons and changelings was all there, celebrating too," she confirmed.
"Even that scrawny twig of a wraith?" Granny asked.
Apple Bloom nodded again. "Even the wraith," she confirmed. "She got a full tummy pretty quick and had to go to bed earlier than we did." That got some laughter out of the adults attending the table. "That girl can pack away an entire bug as big as she is, and not fall asleep on her hooves."
Granny Smith beamed. "Discord did deliver the General and his lackeys the cider and zap apple jam, right?" she asked.
Apple Bloom nodded once more. "Ayup. The wraith had some herself, and almost passed out in the tankard they gave her," she replied. "She liked it that much."
Granny Smith chuckled. "I don't know nopony… or wraith that can turn down a nice cup o' cider," she said, some amusement in her eyes. "I reckon it even warmed her heart a little." Her grin widened. "Was good to have her help during Cider Season, even if it was jest sortin' apples and plucking zap apples off the trees. Tells ya a lot about some ponies, when they look out for wraiths." Her face radiated like the sun, despite her age. "And as small as she was, good thing the General found her. What's she doing now?"
"Well… she's at least a thousand years old," Sweetie answered, after swallowing a mouthful of pancake. "They used magitek to confirm her age, or at least, a vague estimate, did an autopsy on her to see if anything else was wrong with her, and inducted her in their army. She's gotta get other things squared away before she can begin any assignments, though."
Granny Smith nodded. "A thousand years old, ye say? Surprised she don't speak in old ponish," she noted. "Or whatever other language Fantasia has that's as old as old ponish."
"Well, Fantasian society cast her out years ago, after her hive died. She had nobody else to turn to; for her, it's the army life, or bust," Scootaloo replied, before shoveling in another forkful of the good stuff into her gob.
"And she does know a dead language—she called it Swarm-tongue," Sweetie added. "But every time she speaks it, she has to translate it somehow, or else it'll fly over everyone else's heads." That was punctuated with a sip of her orange juice. "I hope she gets to write a book about Swarm-tongue; it sounds like it would be a great help to bridge the past to the present over in Fantasia."
"Bridge the past…? Why, what happened?" Big Mac asked, concern leaking into his voice.
"Well… there's bad ponies on Fantasia, who were born long ago who basically hurt everyone else on that planet by erasing its history. Only legends and myths exist now, and very little of it is concrete," Sweetie answered unhappily, shaking her head. "They used meaner language to express their anger at that, because they're struggling to find out how the barrier broke, and they're dealing with more idiots than they can shake their airships at."
"And those idiots have schemes big enough, Lance and his military have no choice but to stop them," Scootaloo added, shaking her head as she shoved another piece of fluffy goodness into her mouth. "Which… the Fantasians have also used mean words about."
Big Mac nodded. "Would expect that of military ponies," he said dryly. "Always crass, loud-mouthed… and sometimes hard-headed."
"But that General and his lackeys… I could tell they have good hearts," Granny Smith said, still beaming. "Keeping to themselves or not, they have their heads screwed on righty-tighty and not lefty-loosey. Better them dealing with Fantasia than the hooten-nanny of the prissy Canterlot unicorns who can't tell their frogs from their plots." That made the Crusaders almost snort orange juice out of their noses and onto the tables, but they managed to control themselves in time.
"Oh yeah; while y'all were away, a noble came by and asked ponies 'round Ponyville if they knew where the General and his lackeys went," Big Mac said, frowning. "Said he had important documents to show that red-headed mare."
… oh no. And by Celestia's sunscorched plot, Big Mac sounded dead serious. Apple Bloom frowned at the news. "Whatdidja tell 'em?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Said that I didn't know where they went; where they went was their business and nopony else's," Big Mac said curtly. "That priss snorted and trotted off, muttering something about important documents."
"... if they're trying to marry Natalie off, they should learn that the Aerie doesn't like arranged marriages and marriages for alliances," Scootaloo said, shaking her head. "If that noble shows his face at where the military she helps run resides, she'll launch him to the moon."
"... they'd rather marry fer love, then," Granny Smith surmised. "Jest as good fer them; means they can ignore the plotheads wanting their hooves without lovin' 'em to bits first."
"Ayup. In fact… if they find ponies making child brides, they kill those ponies on the spot," Apple Bloom said, sighing. "And over there on Fantasia, their age of consent is twenty-one; anypony below that line ain't legal to marry."
Granny Smith nodded. "Good attitude to take," she agreed. "I've met a few ponies wantin' child brides back when I was a spry whippersnapper m'self, and I done kicked 'em to the moon fer spoutin' that bunk o' horseapples." She shook her head. "Those ponies never made sense to me, and still don't make sense to me now. Why not jest wait for a grown mare who can make her own decisions?"
"Probably 'cause they don't want their brides making their own decisions," Big Mac said, shaking his head. "Those types of ponies can't handle a grown mare, so they just wanna beat on somepony younger than they are. I done heard some ponies say that some nobles up in Canterlot still do the practice, even if Celestia don't know about it."
"Well that's jest a cryin' shame all 'round," Granny said, glowering. "And if'n them rumors is true, then we might need to rouse all of Equestria's other noble ponies to do something 'bout it."
"But how would we do that? We're just farmfolk; ain't nopony born into money gonna give a rat's plot 'bout what we gotta say," Big Mac replied, sighing before remembering there were children at the table. He looked to the three and opened his mouth, but Apple Bloom cut him off.
"We heard worse on Fantasia; adults over there don't give a lick about ya if you're not part of the sane places," Apple Bloom said, glowering. "In fact, there's more traditionalists than there are ponies wanting to move forward." She wilted a bit. "Ponies did… did horrible things to the General and his Lieutenants on Fantasia, things we can't talk about. But really bad things that got them bitter and angry—angry enough to kill the ponies who wronged them."
Big Mac frowned. He reached over and put a hoof on Apple Bloom's withers. "'s alright if ya can't talk about it; it's military ponies, they always gotta have something be classified, even if'n we don't like it one bit," he said gently. "I take it someone spilled the beans and ya eavesdropped?" At Apple Bloom's sour nod, he reached over for a hug that she reciprocated. "s alright, everypony has to deal with a bonehead from time to time."
Once they pulled away from the hug, Big Mac gestured at the plate of unfinished food. "Y'need to eat 'fore school. Go on, finish up," he said. The Crusaders smiled and tucked in again, eager to fuel up the rest of the way for the day ahead.
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The Crusaders did quick checks to make sure they had the goods before walking into the Ponyville Schoolhouse. Photos? Check. Report? Check. Notes? Check, check, and check. They were locked and loaded, and raring to go.
It was time to do this, their hardened expressions said as they went through those doors alongside the other students, all of whom marched in single file. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were at the front of the formation of course, being the prissy-pants richie-riches that deserved top spot at the top of the playground slide. But there was one thing they didn't consider about the playground slide: there was one way up, and one way down, and sooner or later someone was going to knock those two down the slide and back into the firm pegs of reality. Ahead of them were the teachers to welcome them back into the grueling curriculum, and ahead of them was the elusive head of the school board, who only had to be there to personally unlock the front doors to let everypony else inside.
Even as she unlocked said doors, she wore a sardonic sneer on her upturned snout that suggested she might have been up to no good, that she might be willing to sow evil today. Such a smirk on such a figure of authority said a lot of things about a sapient, many unpleasant things indeed. The Crusaders were glad that Lance and his cohorts hadn't worn such expressions around them, instead opting for that no-nonsense image that commanded respect and intelligence above all else, save for the rare moments where they got to wear their easygoing smiles, except for when mouthy wraithlings decided to make fun of them for fits and giggles.
The fact that the head of the school board wore the smirk of damnation on her face suggested that maybe she had gotten her authority through… illegitimate means. No matter—the Crusaders ignored it, figuring they would punt that smirk off her stupid face soon enough. The fact that the arrogant mare even made an appearance at all failed to startle them, for they knew that this particular assignment was of utmost importance, and even this priss wouldn't want to miss it for the sister worlds.
Pipsqueak whispered behind them. "Wow—you got your cutie marks?" he asked.
The trio glanced behind themselves to nod in his direction, wearing grins of their own—innocent smiles that now belied the hardened edge in Scootaloo's reply. "As sure as ever," she affirmed proudly, albeit in a whisper to keep the head of the school board off her case. "We'll show them off when we present our project."
Pipsqueak beamed. "That's amazing," he said, almost breathlessly. "I can't wait to see your talents in action." The three grinned and turned ahead, as they were lead down a short hall lined with two doors on either side. Familiar school posters and wooden flooring and brick walls greeted them, and the teachers began to file into the classrooms to start their morning. The head of the school board followed Cheerilee, still wearing that cruel, damning smirk that promised failing grades to anypony who wasn't her progeny. The students split up to follow their teachers, and marched into their seats with saddlebags thunking down next to their desks.
Go-time, the Crusaders said with but a wordless glance between them. Before they could gather themselves, the head of the school board sharply cleared her throat and rapped her hoof upon the desk, garnering the foals' full attention.
"It has come to my attention that you lot have had an assignment on foreign cultures and provinces, and as head of the school board, I will oversee such matters personally to ensure that every detail lines up with what Equestria knows about such areas," she said, her tone commanding respect she hadn't earned. "Likewise, it has also come to my attention that anypony found to have done a report on Fantasian areas will receive extra credit." Most of the class wilted at this, save for Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.
The fact those two bullies hadn't wilted suggested some bad news, but the Crusaders remained firm in their resolution, eager to see this through. They did wilt, but it was more of a show to deflect suspicion than anything else. If there was anything they had learned from Fantasia's changelings, it was that appearances could very well deceive—a harsh lesson they had learned when Rubywing revealed her true self to them, followed in relatively short order by three of her superiors.
"As such," the head of the school board went on, her smirk still on full display, "those found to be fabricating anything regarding Fantasia's provinces will have their assignments docked for full marks, on top of having to retake the assignment until they get the details right." The class collectively balked at this; even the trio found their hearts freezing for a moment before they remembered that they had this assignment in the bag. "However," she continued, her smirk widening to a sickening degree, "as I understand it… nopony's been able to head for Fantasia properly to assess their provinces, so that extra credit is null and void anyway."
Nope. The Crusaders internally squealed, but seized control to outwardly groan and keep their excitement tucked away until it was their time to shine. They briefly looked in their desks; in the small cubbies, unnoticed by classmates and teachers alike, were the enchanted jars keeping their samples from the slime ranch, tucked away carefully behind books to avoid suspicion. They also had some bits they didn't recognize squirreled away in there, with stylized engravings—with a little note reading, "Got you three some Fantasian currency and your ranch samples to go with it; call them your lucky break for this shiding~! Your darling, dashing, dastardly-for-good Uncle Dissy~" It seemed Discord did them another solid when they weren't looking.
They turned their attention back to the supreme priss, who droned on without noticing that their gaze had briefly flicked away from her, "After all… it's not like any of you could have afforded an airship's travel to and from the sister world…" Her sneer turned cruel as she spoke her next words, "since you're just a bunch of poor foals, and you probably couldn't afford an hour's worth of airship travel off of your barely-touched piggybanks."
True, but the Crusaders had tricks up their nonexistent sleeves. They kept their eyes glued to the madmare, waiting for her to notice her lack of a shovel as she dug herself towards Mythos' core. "I will now defer the proceedings of this assignment to Miss Cheerilee." She nodded at the teacher in question, who stepped forward and took her place behind the desk. "Go on, initiate roll call." Roll call was a simple affair, and over within a matter of moments, not that the mare with more bits than sense would care in the slightest about the other foals. Still, better to make sure the whole class was accounted for, than not at all, especially when the head of the school board was breathing down their favorite teacher's neck over it.
"Now then… with that paltry drab out of the way, let us begin with the assignment," the head of the school board said, nodding to Cheerilee before moving to the door of the classroom, solely to stand next to it and have a better vantage point to oversee the entire shooting match.
Cheerilee nodded, wearing a warm smile on her face as she gestured to the spot before her desk, the one space clear enough that the whole class could see the speaker. "Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon, please step forward with your project," she intoned with a warm, inviting voice—one that might not have suspected any foul play abound. The bullies grinned, scooped up their saddlebags, and moved from their seats to trot to the center stage, pulling out papers and photographs of their own.
"Unlike most of you, we were able to afford airship travel to Fantasia," Diamond said, a wicked glint in her eyes. Uh-oh, now the Crusaders knew that something was definitely up. "And we're doing a report on it. More specifically, the region of Aeris Maleficarum." That… sounded made-up, almost as though she were pulling this one out from under her tail. As far as they knew, save for a few regions their military chaperones didn't enlighten them about, Fantasia's provinces followed a color-based theme in their naming convention… at least, for the areas they knew about thanks to the military actively talking about those areas.
Still, they swallowed their pride, waiting to see what Diamond Tiara would pull off this time. After all, a particularly evil-sounding name invited nothing but trouble, and Aeris Maleficarum was as evil as they could come. "Aeris Maleficarum is an area in southern Fantasia, located deep on the southernmost continent and controlled almost entirely by cave ponies who have to mine away for the food and rocks they eat," Diamond began, before rattling off the first chapter of her report, and showing off scribbled illustrations that looked like a preschooler had done them.
The first chapter… they tried hard, so very, very hard to tune out, but couldn't due to how wrong it was. It got so many things wrong about Fantasia, that they were surprised it even mentioned five main continents on the planet at all, albeit arranged and shaped differently from what they had seen out their classroom window. The second chapter of Diamond's report was even worse; most of the class was glued to the project, hanging off of Diamond's every word, but the trio themselves were almost bored to tears. The economy section basically consisted of, and this was forever burned into their memory, "the cave ponies use fancy gemstones as currency, and the more gems they have the richer they get."
The third chapter was less about the culture of Aeris Maleficarum, and more about making fun of the place, almost as though Diamond knew she was cheating and didn't give a rat's plot about it. Almost as though she knew what a load of horseapples her report was. What wasn't helping matters was that her mother stood at the door, nodding and smiling in approval like some kind of Dark Lord wannabe. Unbeknownst to her, the leader of Fantasia's military, despite his shapeshifting, taloned empire being sequestered on Fantasia at the moment, would have probably ripped her head off in the verbal sense, just for allowing this kind of bunk to be spread about him—assuming, of course, that Diamond Tiara was actively, and unquestioningly, making fun of said leader.
Which… truth be told, the Crusaders had expected someone of the class to do at this rate, as a substitute for not actually managing to go onto Fantasia to begin with. Unfair though it was, they recognized that their own sheathed advantage was also on that very same scale, despite being legitimate otherwise. Not that Diamond knew yet, but she would know and despair once the trio's turn came.
In the meantime, they had to listen to her bunk either way—not like they had a choice, with the head of the school board blocking the door. They were surprised she put so many words into her report; they had expected her to just speedwrite the entire thing and be done with it in a single sitting. Then again, Mommy Dearest probably discouraged that, probably so her progeny could sound more convincing to anypony who wasn't the Crusaders… and that was generously assuming that Mommy Dearest herself hadn't penned the whole thing herself to help her daughter ace the assignment.
If any at the Aerie had heard this report, they'd have pitched several fits, and then would have probably called for some form of punishment to be levied against the idiot parent who enabled the bunk to begin with. It was fortunate they weren't here to listen to the fantastibad report that was Diamond Tiara's attempt at playing out a power trip fantasy with a make-believe province.
The fourth and fifth chapters were mercifully short, consisting only of the cuisine of this supposed place, and the footnotes and references. The cuisine part consisted only of rocks and whatever imaginary monsters lurked in the caves of the equally-made-up Aeris Maleficarum, and no vegetables whatsoever. It was almost like Diamond Tiara wanted to make the supposed caveponies as monstrous as possible, even though they hadn't crossed any objectionable lines in her report. The references were equally interesting, and said thusly: "Ancient cavern glyphs, made by the chieftains of old, written testimony by Chieftain Meathock, written testimony by Rock-Gatherer Shadow Quartz, and written testimony by Rock-Carver Jewel." …which, when rattled off, sounded like a load of bunk to anypony reading in between the lines.
Still, as Diamond concluded her project, Cheerilee clapped alongside most of the class. For posterity's sake, Scootaloo and her friends did so as well, more to keep the heat away from them until it was time to act. "Well done, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon!" Cheerilee said, her grin widening obliviously. "Does the class have any questions?"
Pipsqueak rose his hoof. "How come the cave ponies of Aeris Malifecarum eat rocks?"
"They evolved to do so after a thousand years, and the rocks became very nutritious," Diamond explained, still wearing her proud smirk.
Snips raised his hoof. "How come the cave ponies settled into the cave to begin with?" he asked. "And do they have cutie marks?"
"They were exiled from their former homelands. As for cutie marks, every mark there pertained to mining some kind of gemstone," Diamond answered with a roll of the eyes, almost as though she thought she had this in the bag. By Godcat's dark half, she couldn't write her way out of a wet paper bag if she tried at this rate.
Snails raised his hoof. "And what about those who didn't get mining-based cutie marks?"
Diamond's grin widened. "They were exiled in the wilds beyond the caves, to die slowly and painfully," she answered, with oblivious cheer.
Cheerilee stamped a hoof on the desk to get the class's attention. She briefly consulted a list on her desk and said, "Now, take your seats, and make room for Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom!"
The bullies snickered, and plunked their butts down in their chairs, exchanging a high five on the way back. The Crusaders got their goods, and made sure to discreetly put the slime jars and foreign currency into their saddlebags before marching up to the stage. The class focused on them, seemed to notice their marks, but opted to not say anything.
Showtime.
The three turned to the class, wearing innocent grins. "We've also done a report on Fantasia," they announced in unison, causing Diamond Tiara to jump up from her seat and slam her hoof on her desk.
"H-how?!" Diamond roared. "You're nothing but a bunch of blank…" she trailed off as the trio flashed their cutie marks in her direction, daring her to finish the sentence.
"Not anymore we ain't," Apple Bloom said proudly. "In fact… our marks were obtained in Fantasia, more specifically the province we're covering."
"Oh, really?" Diamond rolled her eyes so hard and so fast it was a miracle they didn't dislocate out of her skull. She waved a hoof dramatically. "And what province is that?"
The trio's grins widened. "Irongrey Aerie," they chorused. They dared not call Diamond out on her load of bunk; their report would prove it soon enough as they flipped open their saddlebags and pulled out their bona fide goods, the report thick and meaty enough to have required multiple staples just to stick together.
"In fact, we should warn you guys—our report contains a few nasty topics, mainly centered around a bit of history before the Aerie and how it formed afterwards," Sweetie said gravely. "So we'll give you a moment to prepare yourselves before we dive in." The class, and Cheerilee, sucked in a deep breath, fortifying themselves for grisly times ahead. The head of the school board rolled her eyes, but elected to say nothing yet, thinking she would be able to stop this report dead in its tracks once it was over.
How wrong she was, so very, very wrong. Better to let her have this moment to herself, before it came crashing down around her ears. "Y'all ready?" Apple Bloom asked, garnering a collective nod from the class, and a snort from the bullies.
"As if anything is worse than Aeris Maleficarum," Diamond hissed, grinning and sneering as she dared her favorite targets to bring it.
"Alright then," Apple Bloom began, and flipped open the report onto the first chapter. "Don't say we didn't warn y'all."