//------------------------------// // Changing Currents Part One // Story: Super Crusaders // by BlackFrostyAce //------------------------------// It was another late afternoon in Ponyville. The work day was winding down, families starting to sit down for dinner. One shop, Quills and Sofas, was pulling in the last of their new inventory, but a certain scatter-brained pegasus forgot to put up the ramp they use. A ramp that would guarantee maximum air for a certain filly who noticed. Scootaloo grinned as her little wings propelled her and her scooter through the streets. Her eyes lit up as she saw the wide open ramp. "Here we go!" Scootaloo said, crouching to minimize wind resistance. It would have been a glorious jump, if fate didn't state otherwise, as out of nowhere something hard collided with Scootaloo's helmet. "Oof!" was the only sound she made as her little body hit the dirt, her scooter clattering on the ground next to her. Her eyes reeled from the impact. “Oh gosh, are you alright?!” Another pegasus pony ran up to Scootaloo after she went down.  Her eyes looked worried, wings flapping in agitation. "I think so..." After dusting herself off, Scootaloo started looking around for her scooter. “You dropped this." A bag was placed before the filly, which looked like garbage to her. It had tears all over it and an ugly black stain on the flap that kept it closed. “Huh...?" Scootaloo looked at the bag for a moment. "This isn't mine, it’s just some junk somepony left here." “It doesn't belong to anypony around here, just thought it was yours.” "Are you sure...?" she asked, scratching her head and looking down at the bag. "Hmm...." As she stared at it, an idea popped into her head. "Cutie... cutie mark crusaders, lost satchel returners!" Scootaloo jumped up excitedly, took the satchel and without another word, hopped onto her scooter and headed towards the clubhouse. The good samaritan waved the filly off as she went on with her business. “Sweet child,” the pegasus said idly, walking away in the opposite direction. Scootaloo zoomed up the road into Sweet Apple Acres and towards the cutie mark crusaders’ clubhouse. She charged up the ramp and kicked the door down, waving the bag in excitement. “Hey girls, girls…what the heck are you two doing to yourselves?!” Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were already there, during their current cutie mark attempt, hairdressing. It was fair to say it wasn't going well; the redhead’s mane looked like glitter had been thrown up all over it. "Pffft!" Scootaloo tried, rather unsuccessfully, to hold back her laughter. Applebloom tried to cover her face. "Don't look at me!" “I don't know what went wrong. I followed exactly what the book said,” pouted Sweetie Belle as she tried to comb through the mess she created. "Don't worry, girls, you can forget about all that junk. I have something I'd like to show you all,”  Scootaloo said, clearing away a great deal of hair care products from her chosen sitting spot and put down the odd bag. “What is that supposed to be? A rucksack?” Sweetie Belle asked. Apple Bloom turned with great effort towards what Scootaloo had brought, as a bunch of unidentified things fell out of her hair. "What's in it?" "I dunno!" Scootaloo grinned. "But, somepony lost it, so we're gonna return it and get our lost item returner cutie marks!" The filly beamed from ear to ear. “Didn't we already try that?” asked Sweetie Belle. “Nuh-uh, that was when we tried to be cutie mark crusader detectives. That's returning ponies to ponies, not random stuff,” responded Scootaloo. “You think the mayor is still mad at us for accusing her of being involved in a sock smuggling ring?” Apple Bloom asked. "Eh, she's gotten over it." Scootaloo waved her hoof dismissively. "But yeah, this thing came outta nowhere and crashed into my helmet while I was trying to take a jump.  No one knew whose it was, so I say we look for the owner!" Sweetie dropped the scissors she was wielding and stepped over to the bag. "You sure the pony that threw it away wants it back? It looks pretty beat up.” "No idea," Scootaloo said simply.  "But we're not getting our cutie marks by sitting around, you know? Besides, we've been lacking in our Crusading recently.  Well, with the exception of... wait... Apple Bloom, is that tree sap and pine needles in your mane?" “We thought it would hold mah hair together. The pine needles were for that too, you know how Rarity went around in that one dress she got from that trip east or something like that but... it didn't work.” The filly giggled. "I'm not really sure where to begin with this bag.  Should we open it?" Scootaloo asked, turning back to the bag in question. “If this does belong to somepony, do you think they'll get mad at us for going through their stuff?” asked Sweetie Belle. “We can't return it unless we know who it belongs to,” Applebloom pointed out. "That’s what I was thinking.... We'd at least know where to begin," the orange filly said with a shrug. “Oh, alright...” mumbled Sweetie Belle.  Scootaloo sighed, reaching out for the bag, "Alright, let’s see what you are..." The filly picked up the bag before flipping back the top and looking inside. A thin box clattered onto the ground. It was in a similar condition, covered in nicks and gouges. There was a pattern on the top, but the damage made it unclear what it represented. “It looks like somepony was just trying to throw it away. It is pretty beat up looking,” said Apple Bloom. “It could be old,” Sweetie Belle suggested. “Is there a name on it anywhere?” “Don’t see one anywhere, maybe it’s on the inside?” Scootaloo shook the box gently and heard a soft rattling inside of it. “There is something inside!” “Think we should open it?” asked Apple Bloom. “I don’t see why not. After all, we’re trying to find out who it belongs to!” “Just be careful with it, then…” Sweetie Belle cautioned. Scootaloo gulped and, more carefully than she needed to, undid the clasp holding the box shut. Inside were three glass hooflets, colored blue, green and brown. There were depressions in the box where they would have been resting. Possibly when they were thrown out, they jumped around a bit, but they seemed undamaged for the most part. Scootaloo put the box down on the table. She eyed the three hooflets. "Right.... We're looking for a pony that has lost a box of three hooflets." “That really doesn't tell us all together that much. That could belong to anypony in town,” said Sweetie Belle. "Are there even any glass blowing shops in Ponyville?" Scootaloo asked the group. “None that I know...” said Apple Bloom. “Maybe we could find a pony that knows a lot about this kind of stuff? I mean, they may be able to point us in the right direction.” "Maybe Rarity? She likes fashion and all that girly stuff." Scootaloo offered. All of a sudden, Sweetie didn't exactly look too keen on that idea. "Uh, Rarity probably wouldn't. I mean... this stuff is too plain for her!” “You think? I’ll admit they are kinda plain looking." The farmer filly reached over and took a hooflet out of the box and turned it over a few times. There were some odd shapes carved into one side. Scootaloo picked one up as well, examining it closely. "I just wanna know what it is..." Sweetie started to look even more nervous. "Be careful with those! We can't return them if we break them..." “Quit your bellyaching. I AM being careful.” Scootaloo scowled while handling the green colored hooflet. "Sweetie is right, we need to be careful with these. They look really fragile. Hmm....” For a moment, Apple Bloom debated how it would look on her hoof, and before she knew it, the piece of jewelry was on her right foreleg. "Hey, I kind of like this." Scootaloo slipped on the green one, and giggled. "Huh, you're right!" Sweetie, though reluctant, did put on the blue colored one. "I guess... this is okay.” "It looks good on you," Scootaloo said with a grin. Sweetie Belle blushed. "You really think so?" “I ain't much for this, but I think so too. It sorta matches your eyes almost, Sweetie Belle.” "They fit better than I was expecting, too. I don't know if these would fit a mare." Scootaloo says, inspecting the hooflet again. “Then... wait. You don't think they belong to...?!” There were no words needed to be said; these hooflets could very well belong to their mortal enemies, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Apple Bloom was quick to dismiss the thoughts they were all thinking. “Oh, that's a load of hogwash. Why would those two throw away something like this?” "Also, there are three of these," Scootaloo said, "and only two of them.” “Hey, I just got an idea! What if we just keep these on? If we go around town, somepony is bound to recognize them sooner or later!” said Sweetie Belle. "Thats a good idea!" the pegasus said. "We'll be sure to find their owners now!" “Hey, do you guys mind waiting to do the lost and finders stuff until tomorrow?” said Applebloom Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle gave their fellow crusader incredulous looks. “Why?” “Ah can’t exactly go out looking like this!” She pointed towards her hair, which looked even worse, since it had been sitting for a few minutes. “Oh, alright then,” said Scootaloo. “We’ll see you before school tomorrow, okay?” “It’s a plan!” The three fillies adjourned their meeting and went their separate ways. Applebloom arrived home without too much difficulty. She took a deep breath and reached to open the door, when it swung open before she reached it. It was a pony that had been coming to visit the farm lately. Applebloom had always guessed he had to been from the city with the dark suit he always wore. He grinned down at her, tipped his hat and brushed past her. “Weird…” She shrugged it off and walked into her house, dropping her bag in her usual spot. She looked around for her family. “I’m hoooommee!” Rounding a corner, she ran right into her brother, Big Mac. “Hey Big Macintosh, I’m all done crusading today. Do you need me to bring the bushels into the barn?” “Nope.” “Really, none at all?” “Nope.” “Okay, then. I’m gonna go get washed up.” After the stimulating conversation, the filly skipped up the stairs to wash all of the gunk out of her hair. When dinner rolled around, Applebloom felt something was amiss. Applejack was fidgeting with her food, doing nothing but pushing it around on her plate. Granny was trying to tell one of her long-winded stories, but it sounded strained, like her heart wasn’t in it. Macintosh was more of a statue than he usually was. It was somber, and it weighed on her. Applebloom toyed with asking what had everyone in such a dour mood, but if it was serious, they would tell her, right? Besides, if they didn’t want to, there wouldn’t be a point in wasting energy trying to inquire about it. She played along, talking about friends, school and the disastrous new attempt at a cutie mark. When the meal was over, Applejack insisted on doing the dishes alone. “Why?” Applebloom asked. “We always do them; Ah wash and you dry.” “Don’t you worry about it, Applebloom, I can handle one night of dishes by mahself. You, on the other hand, need to get on your homework and into bed. I’m not dragging you out of it again.” It was a legitimate concern, but again, Applebloom couldn’t shake the feeling that something was troubling her nearly unshakable sibling. “Applejack, is something wrong?” “Wrong? What do you mean, what’s wrong?” Applebloom shrugged. “Just that you seem off about something.” “I just had a hard day today, Applebloom, nothing you have to worry about. I just need a good night’s sleep,” grumbled Applejack as she scrubbed a greasy pot. “Alrighty. See ya in the morning, then.” “Remember what Ah said, AppleBloom.” The filly threw up her hoofs in exasperation. “Ah heard ya, I’ll set mah alarm. Sheesh!” The spring evening proved to be much warmer than the filly expected it would. Too hot to fall asleep, she looked at the hooflet that now occupied her right leg. “Wonder who would throw away something like this?” It was rather pretty to look at, especially how the moonlight seemed to make the simple trinket sparkle. Applebloom smiled despite herself. Though she knew it would be important to return the hooflets to whomever they rightfully belonged to, she wouldn’t mind holding on to it a little longer. Starting to feel a little lightheaded, she turned in her bed and drifted off to sleep. Her leg hung out over the bed, the engraving on the bracelet shining with a dull light.