//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Just Another Day // Story: The Crusaders: A Shadow Over Manehattan // by Starhunter //------------------------------// Misty Morning pulled on her saddlebag and headed towards her Father's study, putting on her best smiling face as she went. She hadn't gotten near enough sleep, and she was going to be feeling it all morning. She had arrived home not long after ten last night but she'd lain in bed for hours afterwards, thinking. Thinking about all her new problems, and what to do about them. She'd decided she was going to just blame Babs for everything. It was the only way all the lying she was going to have to do would be the least bit believable. Poking her head in the study door, she found her father sitting in one of his reading chairs, a mug of hot coffee in one hoof and a textbook in the other. Golden Sunrise was a pure-bred Unicorn who could trace his lineage back to the founding of Equestria, and it showed in his every feature. He was slim in build, with the warm golden colouring that he'd been named for. He wore thick glasses that would have looked silly on a young pony, but made him look scholarly and wise. Seeing him helped make the smile on her face a little more genuine. "Father, I'm off to school. Have a nice day." He looked up, smiling back. "Thank you, dear. You too. Your mother said she'd be home early this evening, so we should be able to have dinner together. Any requests?" "Something filling, perhaps? I expect I shall have worked up quite an appetite." Her father's brow knit in concern. "How so, might I ask?" Misty rolled her eyes. "Babs is on a fitness kick. I think she's hoping to get into shape before the Running of the Leaves. I'm afraid I've gone and volunteered myself to be her workout partner for a while. We're getting together after class to go... jogging." It was impossible to miss the distaste in her voice at the prospect. Her father watched her for a moment over his glasses. "I see. Another of your Crusader outings is it? Trying for Cutie marks in marathon running this time?" He sounded about as sceptical as Misty felt, but she kept her smile on in spite of it. "Well, Squall will probably tag along. But this is less about cutie marks and more about our health and wellness. The Running is a much bigger event here that it is up in Canterlot, I guess. It seems to mean a lot to her so... well, you know." Her father looked like he was going to raise an objection, but then seemed to change his mind. "If that's what you want. You'll still be home in plenty of time for dinner, yes?" "Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it for the world." That, at least, she didn't have to stretch the truth about. "Good. Off you go then. You don't want to be late for class." Misty ducked back out into the hall and headed for the front door. That was one problem off her plate. She'd spend part of dinner talking about how delighted she was about their new astronomy club, and how they were planning to meet once every weekend from now on. That would take care of her second problem. A third, unfortunately, was waiting at the end of her front walk, and she was wearing her cape. "Babs, you aren't going to wear that to school again, are you?" Babs looked just as tired as Misty felt, but that didn't seem to be keeping her spirits down. Misty found that both irritating and enviable in equal measure. Babs nodded. "Yeah. I think I am." Misty fought down the urge to groan. "I don't think that's the best idea. I mean, every time you have, it's ended up with you getting picked on ferociously." "I know. It's fine." "It's what got you sent home from school last time, remember? The fight with Jet Stone?" "I remember. And so does everypony else. It'll be fine." "They're just going to make fun of you... of us... if they see you in it." "Not hearin' anythin' I ain't already thought of here, Misty." An irritated groan escaped Misty's throat. "Then why? Why not just leave it in your saddlebag until after school? That's what I'm doing. It doesn't make you any less of a Crusader." Babs shot Misty a hard look. "Doesn't it? Doesn't that mean I'm ashamed to wear it out where ponies can see?" Misty frowned back. "So, what? I'm being a traitor to your cause, am I?" Babs stopped, shaking her head. "No... no, that's not what I meant. I'm not judgin' you." "That's funny. Because you sound awfully judgy, to me. Especially considering I just lied to my father to cover up this little adventure of ours." "I'm sorry, Misty. I didn't mean it like that." Babs looked chastised, which made Misty feel guilty. "I just... I'm tired of bein' ashamed of myself. That's all. I'm proud of bein' a Cutie-Mark Crusader. Now more than ever. I just... I wanna shout it out loud for a change, y'know?" Misty had to take a moment to choose her words carefully. "I... understand where you're coming from, Babs. I do. But if you start wearing your cape every day on top of the workouts and the weird hours, people are going to notice something is up. Cold Star said we need to keep this a secret for now, and wearing the cape isn't exactly secretive." Babs opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. With a growl of frustration, she took off the cape and tucked it into her saddlebag. "This bites." Misty rested her hoof on her friend's shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "I know. I'm sorry. But I'm pretty sure it's for the best." Babs didn't reply. She just scowled and kicked her hooves down the street towards the school. Misty felt conflicted about manipulating her friend like that, but she really did think it was for the best. Wearing the Cape would mean Squall would wear his to support Babs, and then she would have to as well. And then they'd all get it worse than usual. And Misty wanted to save her energy for after school. She thought about Cold Star's assignment, and found herself scowling as well. * * * * * Squall swooped in next to them just as they were arriving at the front gate to the school. He was wearing his cape, much to Misty's chagrin. He didn't miss the annoyed look she levelled at him, frowning in return. "What's the matter? It seemed like a good day for capes. I thought you guys would be wearing them." Babs gave Misty a cool look. "Yeah, well. Misty thinks that what with the whole secrecy thing, we should hold off on the capes until after school." Squall thought about that for a moment, then nodded, unclasping his cape and tucking it away in his saddlebag. "Good point. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. We're not exactly looking for more members right now, so no sense in showing off." His reasoning seemed to please his two companions (though for somewhat differing reasons) and the three of them passed through the gate and into the front courtyard of the school, ready to face another day. Hightower Junior Academy was the oldest private school in Manehattan. It was a school renowned for the quality of its academic programs and respected for its history of producing graduates that were eagerly accepted into Senior Schools across Equestria. Despite its pedigree, it wasn't a school restricted to social elites; Babs and Squall were both proof positive that if your parents could get enough bits together, you were welcome at Hightower. But that didn't keep a lot of the students here who came from old money from looking down their noses at the ponies from working-class families. This was especially true of the small group of ponies who were were lounging around the steps as the Crusaders made their way towards the school. According to the school administration, they were known as the "Ponies Association for Cultural Knowledge", a student group celebrating traditional cultural values of the three races. Being in change of most of the school's party-planning made them popular, and their well-to-do families made sure they always looked like a million bits. But to the less privileged ponies at school they were simply known as 'the Pack', and they were a menace. Their leader was a tall, slender Unicorn named Prancewell. He was at the top of the school academically, and his family were some of the school's most generous donors. Prancewell, like Misty, had originally come from Canterlot. But unlike her, his family had moved here when he was just a foal. He'd grown up around the wealthiest of Manehattan's socialites, making friends with their various children and uniting them in the common cause of reminding everypony that they were the heirs-apparent to the future of Equestria. Together with his friends Emerald, Jet, Skyler and Glimmery, they patrolled the school yard like a pack of hungry Timber Wolves, looking for weak or fearful ponies to pick on and lord over. The Crusaders had yet to find any effective way of dealing with the Pack. Babs had tried her best to do right by her cousin's advice to tell the grown-ups about their antics, but despite having made several attempts to bring their lousy attitudes to the attentions of the teachers, the Pack had yet to be punished. The truth was that Prancewell's group was much too savvy to get caught out with their bullying. After all, they were high-society ponies - they were all about hurting ponies with veiled insults and cutting remarks, which only left bruises on the inside. And when they did choose to get physical they did it carefully, and never within sight of a teacher. Babs had gone so far as to try to bring the matter to Prancewell's parents, only to discover that they weren't interested in hearing it... or anything else that amounted to "shameful bits of hatred hurled by a low-born pony against her betters". After that, Babs had declared them a sworn enemy of the Cutie-Mark Crusaders Manehattan branch, and they'd done their best to keep away from the Pack as much as possible. Unfortunately, today the Pack seemed to be hungry for mischief. Seeing Squall remove his cape was all the invitation they needed to uncoil themselves from the school's front steps and make their way over. As usual, Prancewell and Emerald were in the lead. Emerald Stone was a pretty green pegasus whose larger brother Jet was the muscle of the group. This made her the boldest when it came to picking on people, secure that her big brother would back her up if things got nasty. She leered at Squall, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Heya, Squalor. Saw you rockin' the cape to school again. Good look. Nothing says 'my mommy makes my clothes' like hoof-stitched cut-outs." Squall's ears lay flat, but he didn't look towards the Pack. They didn't try to block the Crusaders path, instead opting to let them pass so they could follow them, talking loudly enough than nopony could possibly avoid overhearing. Prancewell nudged Emerald with a wink. "Emmy, that's not fair. After all, how else can he cover up that pathetic blank-flank? I mean, look at him. It's like he's got a whiteboard strapped to his behind." Glimmery giggled. "At least he doesn't sit at the front of the class anymore. I thought I was going to go blind from the glare." Jet sighed. "Could be worse. I've got a big brown lump blocking out half of the chalkboard." All of them chuckled loudly at that. Babs gritted her teeth. "Which half is that, Jet? The half you can't read, or the half you can't understand?" The Pack drew closer, their taunting made more bold by Babs's irritation. Squall continued to keep his head down, and Misty simply stuck her nose in the air, but Babs made the mistake of looking back and scowling. She found Emerald smiling back. "Aw, I think someone is a little sensitive about her weight. I guess in a bakery, it isn't just the dough that balloons up over time." Babs forced a grin of her own onto her face. Two could play this game. "No big thing for me, Emmy. I just have to walk around with it. But you might want to think about layin' off the milkshakes. You're gonna need the wings of a Wonderbolt if your flanks gets any thicker." Babs grin grew wider at the flash of anger that passed across Emerald's face. Jet stepped forward menacingly. He was bigger than most junior students, so he was a head taller than Babs. "You should watch what you say to my sister, farmhoof." "Oh. I'm so scared." Babs stopped and turned, meeting Jet's glare evenly. "Scared I'm going to end up with a picture of your ugly mug on my flank. 'Cause the last time we scrapped, I thought I might have found a special talent for kickin' your tail." The other two Crusaders stopped, looking back at Babs with concern in their eyes. Behind Jet, Prancewell actually snickered, but Jet's mouth curled into a sneer. He flapped his wings, and puffed his chest out as if he were trying to appear bigger. "Please. I was shocked you didn't get a pair of horseshoes on your rump for all those lucky shots you landed. You want to try your luck again today, Bad Seed?" Babs eyes narrowed, and her grin vanished. "Do you wanna see how bad I can be, Jet Stone? Do you?" From behind Jet's outstretched wings, Emerald's voice piped up in a playful voice. "Sheesh. Settle down, Babs the Barbarian. We're just playing around." Babs steely-eyed glare didn't waver. "Ain't funny. Tell your brother to kick rocks, before I kick his rocks back out the front gate." Their stare-down didn't end until Prancewell stepped in between the two of them, smiling in the way he always did when the teachers were watching. "Come now, everypony. Lets not start off our fall season with ponies getting sent to the office, shall we?" Babs blew her hair out of her eye and turned away. "Then keep your goon in line, Prancewell." Prancewell didn't reply, but Babs could feel his cool, calculating glare on the back of her head as she walked back to rejoin the Crusaders. Misty was there to meet her, frowning. "Well, that escalated quickly." Babs shrugged. "I'm not in the mood to put up with them, today." Squall sighed. "So much for not drawing attention. Sorry, girls." Babs shrugged. "Fuhget about it. C'mon. We don't want to be late for class." Misty moved to keep up, but Squall glanced backwards, noticing that the Pack were still watching them, whispering to each other with cruel smiles on their faces. * * * * * There were about three hundred students attending Hightower Academy, so there was a dozen homerooms. Babs and Misty had been lucky enough to share one, while Squall's was in the last class at the end of the same hallway. They parted company most morning at the door to the filly's homeroom, and then Squall made the trek alone to his class. No sooner had the girls headed in to find their seats then Squall heard someone rustling their feathers behind him. He did his best to brace himself for what he knew was coming, but given his scrawny size it didn't help much. Squall hit the lockers a lot harder than usual. The impact of his weight against the unforgiving metal made his shoulder ache, and he felt a couple of wing-feathers being pulled loose as he regained his balance, remaining pressed against the lockers to defend himself as best he could against a second attack. But Skylar was already moving down the hallway, his hobby of body-checking Squall the first time they passed in the hallway already having become such a routine to him that he barely seemed interested in the results anymore. He hadn't even stopped talking to Prancewell and Glimmery, though both of them glanced back to grin at Squall's discomfort before heading into class. Squall didn't usually bother trying to avoid them these days - it was easier to just get it over with as early as possible and get on with his day. Squall steadied himself, smoothed his ruffled feathers, and made his way down the hallway to the colt's washroom, ducking inside. He shut himself into one of the stalls and took several deep breaths. He tried desperately to fight down the tears that were forming in his eyes, but as he rubbed his hoof against his face he could tell that it was yet another fight he was too weak to win today. He grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and pressed it to his face, trying at least to keep his breathing steady enough to fool any other ponies who happened to walk in. Getting caught crying in the bathroom would just make everything worse. Eight months. Eight months he'd been living in Manehattan. Eight months of getting picked on and bullied by Prancewell and his cronies at every turn. It made coming to school in the morning exhausting, even without being tired from staying up late. He'd thought about arriving later and ducking in just after the bell rang, but then he would miss seeing his friends in the morning, and that wasn't a trade he was willing to make. He thought back to Babs's offer to help him out the night before, and blew his nose angrily. There was no sense in telling the others about the roughhousing. The Crusaders being there wouldn't be able to stop Prancewell's barbs or Skylar's body-checks. That would just spread the targeting around, and that wouldn't help anypony. The last time Squall had gotten his friends involved, Babs had ended up in a really mean hoof-fight with Jet Stone that had ended up with both of their parents getting called in and Babs having to miss a day of school for her suspension. She'd gotten grounded, too, on top of the black eye and the split lip she'd gotten in the fight. All of that was squarely his fault for getting her involved in the first place. He'd promised himself he wouldn't let that happen again. Squall took another deep breath. He was a colt, wasn't he? Colts were supposed to take their own lumps. That's how it was supposed to work. You took your lumps, and you got tougher, and then one day you got tough enough to beat the bad guys. But after so many months Squall didn't feel any tougher. He felt sad and ashamed. Especially about the fact that he ended up in here at least once a week, crying like a little foal instead of being stallion enough to do something about it. He'd thought maybe today would be different - that being Cold Star's student would somehow give him the gumption to face them down. It had worked for Babs - she'd been ready to get back in the ring with Jet from the get-go, today. Why couldn't he be that kind of pony, instead of a big wimp. He was really glad that Cold Star couldn't see him right now. A strong pony like her would never agree to teach a cry-baby to be a Crusader. A fresh wave of shame washed over him, but he gritted his teeth against it. After school, they were staring their training. He'd learn to get tougher that way. He'd learn how to be strong, and to brush off a body-check like it was nothing. He'd be someone who could stand up for his friends... or at least stand up for himself. He just had to make it to the end of the day. He heard the sound of the morning bell ringing through the building, and took one last deep breath before flushing all the evidence of his emotional episode down the drain. He popped the stall door open and made his way over to the sink, looking at himself int the mirror. He threw a bunch of water at his face, and hoped that he could manage to pass his state off as just being overtired before ducking out of the washroom and heading for class. The afternoon couldn't come fast enough. * * * * * The three Crusaders met after school by the front gates, and walked together over to Seed Cakes where they left their saddlebags for safekeeping. After putting on their capes they made their way down the block to Birch Ridge Park. The park lived up to its name pretty accurately: a couple of tall hills, covered in white birches and aspens than rustled loudly whenever a breeze blew by. It didn't have a playground, so not many young ponies spent time here. Cold Star had chosen it as their weekday training grounds. Cold Star had given them two assignment to complete before their next meeting. One was to be done individually, and the other was their group workout. They were expected to do the workout five days a week - two days, rest a day, then three more days before a second rest day. Misty had been the only voice of decent, saying that was too much for ponies their age. Then Clod Star had explained that when she was in school, she had been required to do two workouts a day, every day, plus martial combat classes. Misty had decided to be quiet after that. The workout itself was pretty simple: all three of them had to canter two laps all the way around the park. It wasn't a very big park but it was mostly hills, so it wasn't easy going either. They struck out on the first lap and very soon Babs found herself pulling into the lead again. As Cold Star had instructed her she stopped every time she got to the top or the bottom of a hill and waited for her friends, doing front-leg push-ups while she waited. Babs came from good farm stock, so her first few stops were no big deal. But by the time she had made it all the way around for their first lap, she was really stating to feel it in her shoulders and withers. Misty and Squall were looking tired as well, and they all slowed to a walk for a couple of minutes to catch their breaths. Misty was the most out of breath, but that didn't stop her complaining. "How does she expect us to do a second lap? My legs are already shaking, they're so tired. This is torture." Babs smile showed no sympathy at all. "I guess that's what you get for bein' a Unicorn, and gettin' to take spellcastin' instead of takin' phys-ed like an Earth Pony." Squall smiled too, despite his own exhaustion. "Yeah. I don't think flight class is a good substitute either. That's got to be the farthest I've ever run on hoof." Babs chuckled. "See? We're settin' records already. You guys ready to go again?" Misty didn't feel ready, so she tried to think of a conversation topic to keep them walking for a few minutes. "So... have either of you written anything for your Pledge yet?" The Pledge was the second half of their homework from Cold Star. She wanted them to think of at least one thing about themselves that they wanted to improve, and put it up on the wall of the Clubhouse. A reminder, she had said, that they were all working towards their goals together. Babs shook her head. "Nothin' yet, and I've been thinkin' about it all day. It seems like it's really important, so I kind of want to impress her, y'know? But I can't think of anythin' that stands out, other than wantin' to get my cutie mark. That seems like kind of a cop-out, though." "That was the only thing I'd come up with either. It would be kind of a let-down if all we wrote about was wanting cutie-marks." Squall looked back and forth between them in surprise. "Really? I've already got a bunch of things written down for mine. But I guess that makes sense, considering I'm the smallest and the weakest." Misty and Babs both gave Squall worried looks, and he responded with a shrug. "What? Don't act like it isn't true. I'm the smallest colt in our grade." Babs frowned. "I don't like to hear you getting down on yourself like that, Squall." "Sometimes the truth hurts, Babs. Besides, it could be worse." He trotted a few paces ahead, looking back over his shoulder with a grin. "I could have the biggest muffin-rump, or be the biggest whiner." And then he stuck his tongue out at them. Babs and Misty responded as one might expect, and just like that they were off for their second lap with Squall giggling madly in the lead. * * * * * Misty arrived home a sweaty, exhausted mess. She left her saddlebags by the door, and made her way down the hall towards the stairs leading up to her bedroom. It was slow going. And the stairs... oh sweet merciful Celestia the stairs! How was she going to climb them, in her state? Her legs ached in a way she had never experienced in her life, and it was agony just putting one hoof in front of the other. Was it going to be like this every day? She sat down in the middle of the hallway, trying to decide which was worse - having ponies see her in such a sweaty, bedraggled state, or having to call for help to get herself up a flight of stairs. She had never been so jealous of her father's ability to levitate. Two voices drifted out of her father's study, and Misty forced herself to her feet and made her way over to hear who it was. It sounded like her mother was home from her trip, but it also sounded like she was arguing with someone. That someone turned out to be her father. "... I spoke to her magic instructor today. She got seventy-five percent on her last kinetic dexterity test. Seventy-five percent, Dew. How can you tell me she isn't underachieving?" "So she isn't a prodigy at magi-kinetics. That's not the end of Equestria. I expect that's still well above average." "Not at a school like Hightower it isn't. And at Canterlot Academy, that's barely even a passing grade. Her other marks are no better: Eighty-two percent in luminous displays, and seventy-nine in conjuring. She was getting much better marks in her classes at the Academy, and I have trouble thinking the exams here are more difficult." Her mother sighed. "I don't know what to say, Gold. Do you think this is my fault, then?" "What? No! No, Dew, it's not your fault. This move was important for us..." Dew Drop cut him off. "It was important for me. But all it did was uproot the two of you. You were both happy there. You had a job you loved doing, and Misty was going to the best school for Unicorns in Equestria. We all had friends and family there. I'm the one who dragged you both away from that." "Nonsense. How could either of us be happy while you were so unhappy?" "But are you happy being here? Is Misty? I don't know." Misty heard someone get up - probably her father, going over to comfort her mother. "Dew, this isn't your fault. If anything, it's my fault. I'm the one who agreed to let her join those silly Crusaders." Misty stiffened. "Oh, Gold. Don't be like that. They're her friends." "Listen, I think Barbara and Squall are both nice ponies. But... they aren't exactly the cream of the proverbial crop." "What difference does that make?" "I'm just saying that she achieved her potential better when she was spending more time around other Unicorns. She used to study more, and talk with her friends about magic. But now she goes out most afternoons in that ridiculous cape to do Celestia knows what. And then she wonders why her cutie mark hasn't appeared yet." There was a long pause. "Golden... have you ever considered that maybe her special talent might not be magical?" She could here her father's startled cough. "Don't be silly. Of course it is." "I know your family has a proud lineage. But magical prodigies usually show up from a very young age. And besides, look at her. She obviously takes more after my family. Maybe... she's not gifted in the same ways you are." "She may have your fur, but she has my eyes. And she shares a great grandfather with Sunset Shimmer, heavens rest her soul, who was a personal student to Princess Celestia herself before her untimely loss. I refuse to believe that when Misty's talent finally emerges, it won't preserve that legacy." Misty could here her father pacing. "But she's not going to find her talent by going out gallivanting around. Do you know what she's doing today? Jogging. Apparently Babs wants to go out for the Running of the Leaves. Can you imagine a less useful way for her to be spending her time?" "She's helping a friend. I'm pretty sure that Princess Celestia's most recent student would approve. And frankly, so do I. You know that getting her cutie-mark means the world to her right now. Can you imagine being as old as she is and not knowing what your talent is? It has to be so hard for her. Having friends who are going through the same thing may be helping her to cope." There was another long pause, then her father piped up again. "Maybe it's the school curriculum. Perhaps her gift is for higher level magics. Maybe I should be tutoring her myself, to help unlock her potential." "Oh, Gold... I love you, but sometimes you're just ridiculous." Misty couldn't help but agree. She walked softly back over to the front door and called out loudly, opened it, and shut it loudly, shouting "I'm home." Her parents came out of the study as she trotted past towards the stairs. "Hello Father. Welcome home, mother. I'd gladly stop for hugs, but I'm confident that you would rather I bathe first. Could one of you send Broomhilda up to help with my mane?" She climbed she stairs with less difficulty than expected; her irritation at being talked about behind her back fuelled her need to make something approximating a graceful exit. She ducked into the bathroom, hurled her cape into the laundry basket, and began running the tub. She sat there on the edge as the tub slowly filled, watching the reflection of her sweaty mane drooping around her ears and scowling. Was she really that much of a disappointment? She'd done all right at Canterlot Academy, but she'd never been anywhere near the top of the class. There had always been ponies to whom magic came naturally, and she had given up thinking she was one of them. But to hear her father sound so unhappy, so unwilling to accept that she might never be the kind of pony he wanted her to be - it hurt. At the same time, it hurt just as much knowing how he really felt about her being a Crusader. It was like he blamed them for making her who she was. It made her furious to think that he found her friends to be a waste of time. She knew Crusading wasn't a waste of time. Even if she still wasn't sure that they should be taking lessons from Cold Star, she knew that Babs and Squall were the best friends she'd ever had. She looked over at the cape she had hurled into the laundry, and felt a rush of guilt. She was standing over the laundry holding it when Broomhilda knocked and came in. "Miss, your parents sent me up. They said you wanted help washing your mane." Misty nodded. "Yes, please. And... could you please have this cleaned as soon as possible?" The maid nodded. "Of course, miss. When do you need it by?" "Tomorrow morning, if possible. Before I leave for school." * * * * * Squall shut the front door, latched the lock and dropped his saddlebag, doing his best not to collapse next to it. That final sprint with Babs had been a terrible mistake. His legs had felt like jelly ever since. He passed through the kitchen and found a note stuck to to fridge. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Doppler is sick, and they needed someone to cover the overnight shift at the weather station. I made soup - it's on the stove. You'll want to drink a lot of water, and don't forget to stretch. A hot bath before bed will do you some good as well. I'll be home in time to make you breakfast." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Squall put the soup on a low heat, and set a timer, and headed back into the living room. It wasn't much - a sofa, a small table, and a couple of mostly-empty book-cases. Once those shelves had been full, but that was before they'd had to move here from Apple-Loosa. The move had been expensive, and they'd done it on really short notice, so they'd had to sell off a lot of the books they'd owned. That helped cover the cost and kept the freight charges down. But they were slowly starting to fill up again. His mother liked to encourage his reading, so she made an effort to keep fresh reading material around for him to snack on when she was working late. Better than going out and getting into trouble, she said. He expected to curl up with a book for a while after dinner. But first, stretching. Squall had watched his mother stretch hundreds of times over the years, usually after wrangling big storms where the banking was hard and the wind could shift unexpectedly. She always said that when you did hard work, you only had two choices: you stretch, or you suffer. Given the discomfort her stretching always seemed to cause her, he'd never really been tempted to try it out himself until now. It turned out to be a workout unto itself, and Squall found himself sweating a bit as he worked through the routine. By the time he went through all the stretches he'd seen his mother do the soup was ready. He turned out to be more flexible than he had expected to be, but maybe that was because all four of his legs felt like overcooked noodles. He ate a bit of soup and some bread, and settled down in the living room with his list of Pledge ideas spread out in front of him. He read them over again, trying to find better wordings. Cold Star's oaths were so formal and clear. He wanted to emulate them as best he could. He also didn't want anything in there that would reveal how weak he felt. He didn't want to be reminded of his weakness while he was in the Clubhouse. He wanted to think about his ideal self, not the lame pony he was normally. After a while spent making changes and adding ideas to his list, he went over to the bookshelf to find something to read. It wasn't yet evening, so he curled up by the window with a book of classical Breezy-tales and started reading. He tried to get into the first story, but found he was just re-reading the first page over and over. He put the book aside, and stared out the window at the city. The living room window faced towards the river, and he could see dozens of ponies flying back and forth in the distance. Couriers, weather ponies, and normal pegasi who were coming or going from their homes in the suburbs dotted the skyscape from there to downtown. Squall put the book back in its place on the shelf. He had spent most of his life with his nose buried in books. But now, he had met a real hero - the kind of pony they told stories about. One whose life sounded like something from a Daring Do novel, and who even now was resting somewhere in the city, waiting for night to fall so she could take up her Crusade against evil. All his life, he'd dreamed about ponies like that, but it had never occurred to him that even though most of these stories were old, a lot of them were about real, actual ponies. Ponies who faced dangers and overcame them with courage and determination. Ponies like Cold Star. He made his way over to the living room window, unlocked it, and pushed it open. His mother insisted on leaving the windows locked to deter burglars, but most pegasi families Squall knew used the large bay windows by their fire escape to come and go from the upper floors. It was typical of his mother's paranoia that she would be worried about burglars when their apartment held nothing worth stealing. Squall stepped out onto the fire escape, looking into the distance where the Paddleton Lighthouse flickered gently. Last night he'd run past that lighthouse on a real adventure. He'd watched Cold Star moved almost to tears by how much her Oaths meant to her. He glanced back at his own scribbled ideas on the table, and he felt hollow. Writing words didn't amount to much. He always talked about how he wished he was stronger. And tougher. But what was he actually doing about it? Cold Star had said she worked out twice a day when she was a filly. Now, she spent every night running laps around the city stopping only when she found ponies who needed saving or criminals who needed to be taught a lesson. She spent most of her day, every day, in action. And here he was, exhausted after two laps around a park. Squall pushed the window shut behind him and jumped off the fire escape, pumping his wings to push himself skyward. Cold Star had said their path last night was one of her patrol routes - one lap, Cold Star sized. She was a bat pony, and that meant she probably did at least part of it by flight. Squall aimed his muzzle for the lighthouse in the distance, and set out to find his second workout. * * * * * Babs had arrived home tired and sweaty, but in high spirits. She felt alive and energized, and could almost ignore the soreness setting into her shoulders as she mounted the stairs to the third floor where her family lived. When she got there, she noticed the front door was hanging open. She poked the door open to find a tall mare standing in the entry hall. She had brown fur, but bright, fire-engine red hair which was shaved into a single row and then styled straight up in a Zebra tribal crest. Between her ears and nose she sported easily a dozen piercings connected by hoops and chains, and she was pulling on a black hoodie with patches all over it celebrating bands with names like "Canterlot Graveyard" and "Hail King Discord". "Heya Poppy." Babs managed a grin at her older sister despite her exhaustion. The tall pony turned and grinned back. "Heya, runt. You look like you got chased home by a dragon. What gives?" "Tryin' to get in shape. Thinkin' I might try out the Runnin' of the Leaves this year. Maybe try and win somethin' to go with all Mom's bakery and rodeo medals." Misty had told Babs about her cover story on the way to school, and this seemed like a good time to try it out. She'd rehearsed it enough she was actually starting to consider it for real. Poppy rolled her eyes. "Great. My little sis' is goin' out for sports. Please tell me you're not gonna start wearin' one of those goofy letter sweaters. Because I swear to Celestia I'll tell everypony I don't know you." Babs tried to blow her hair out of her face, but it was plastered to her head with sweat. "Yeah, that's not gonna be a problem. You gonna come cheer for me on race day?" Poppy offered her a lopsided grin. "No promises. You seen Mom or Dad around?" Babs gave her a deadpan. "Do you not see me walkin' in the door right now, this second?" "Yeah, thanks clever-plot. I meant downstairs." "Nope. Dad's office door was shut and the bakery's still full of the five o'clock rush. Why?" Poppy slipped past Babs and out the door. "Good. Maybe I can be gone before they notice I'm here." Babs groaned. "You gonna miss dinner again?" "Prob'ly, since it ain't served and I'm goin' out." "Mom's gonna be mad. You skipped last night too." "Sorry, sis. But you're only young once. Gotta make the most of it." "At least tell me where you're goin'. Mom's gonna ask, and she hates not knowin'." Poppy sighed. "The Skinny Donkeys are doin' a gig at the Romper Room. I'll probably be home around midnight. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's gonna be a lineup and my pals are already waitin'. Catch ya later, runt." "Yeah, whatever metal-head. Have fun. Watch out for magnets." "Bite me." Came the jovial reply as Poppy disappeared down the stairs. Babs went in a shut the door, torn between being annoyed that her sister was taking off again and being happy to see her for a change. Poppy didn't get along very well with their parents, and every time they all sat down lately it had ended in some kind of argument. She'd been leaving early and coming home late a lot as a result. Babs missed hanging out with Poppy; giving each other a hard time was a time-honoured Seed family tradition, but it was less fun when it was all they did with each other. The Seeds usually ate a bit later than most families Babs knew, since her parents both worked long hours when business was good. That gave her time to have a good long shower and have most of her homework done before she heard anyone else come in. When the door opened, she turned to see her father. Hay Seed was a tall stallion, with a tan coat and pale green eyes that made you feel relaxed just looking at them. Her mother said that was part of his charm. He looked over to the table where Babs was finishing up her science report. "Hey Babs. Your Mom home yet?" Babs smiled back. "Nope. You win tonight." He headed into the bedroom to get rid of his tie and jacket, a triumphant smile on his face. "Ha-ha! Victory is mine. Any objection to rice-wraps for dinner?" "Nope. The sooner the better. This whole workout thing left me pretty hungry." Her stomach growled loudly, as if to concur. Her father reappeared and headed for the kitchen, tossing on an apron as he went. "Well, then I guess it's good that I'm here, then. Dinner in thirty, I reckon." That standing arrangement between the Seed parents was that whichever parent got home first got to cook dinner. In some households, that might have been seen as a way of ducking the job, but not in the Seed house. On one hoof was her mother, the award-winning pastry chef with a cutie mark in spicing food. On the other was her father, an international spice broker with a deep and abiding love for rich foreign cuisine. To them, cooking dinner wasn't a chore so much as it was a chance to one-up each other with new recipes or to perfect their own signature family favourites. Babs never ate out if she didn't have to. Eating dinner at home was way better, and cheaper. It wasn't long before the scent of hot sunflower oil and spices wafted out of the kitchen, completely destroying her ability to concentrate on homework. She shut her note book and packed up her pencils. "Anythin' I can do to help?" There was a pause as her father thought about it. "Fancy choppin' some greens?" "Can do. Be right there." Babs swept her books into her saddlebag and headed for the kitchen. She bantered with her father for a couple of minutes about school and running, and her father promised that if she went out for the Running, he'd be cheering for her at the finish line. Babs turned away from the cutting board she was working at to smell the delicious rice her father was cooking as filling for the wraps. Her father glanced over. "So... is your sister gonna to be joinin' us, do you think?" Babs shook her head. "Nope. She headed out just after I got home. Some concert. She said she'd be home midnight-ish." Her father sighed, then shrugged casually. "All well. More for us." Babs smiled at the prospect of getting to snag one of her sister's wraps, but then felt a blush of shame rise in her cheeks. Her father didn't miss it. "Everything all right, sweetie?" Babs hung her head, the blush growing. "Hey, Dad. Can I ask you somethin'?" He stopped stirring, taking the wide pan he was working with off of the heat and looking down at Babs. "That sounds like you're about to get real serious on me. This isn't about boys, is it? Should I be sittin' down?" Babs managed a smirk. "No, seriously. I'm just lookin' for a straight answer." He nodded. "Ok. Shoot." Babs took a deep breath. "Dad... am I... y'know... fat?" Her dad sat down to match her eye level as best he could. "Why would you ask that? Did someone at school say somethin' mean to you?" Babs scuffed her hoof against the floor. "Yeah. Once or twice. But they're jerks, so I mostly ignored 'em. But today Squall made a crack about it. I know it was a joke, and he didn't mean nothin', but... it just got me thinkin', that's all." Her Dad put his hoof on her shoulder. "Babs... I don't know what to tell you about this. Me? I don't think so at all. But the way you see yourself is real tied up in how you think you look. So I can tell you I think you're a perfectly healthy young filly until I'm blue in the face, but that ain't gonna do a lick of good if you don't agree. So what do you think?" Babs stared at the floor. "I dunno. Mom ain't exactly a runway model, and I take after her a lot." Hay Seed let out a snort of laughter. "Your mother is proud Apple Family stock, kiddo. She can haul a hay-ride like it's a little red waggon, and she'd been buckin' trees since she was knee-high. There ain't no way she was gonna turn out lookin' like some under-fed filly in a froofy outfit." "Yeah, but... I just get so mad when ponies get in my face about it." "Why? Because you think they're right?" Babs downcast look became a frown. "No, because I think they're wrong, but they'll never admit it. They'll just keep standing there lyin' and being stupid until someone shuts their stupid mouths." Her Dad frowned too. "Babs, is this about Jet Stone? Have you two been fightin' again?" She offered a non-committal shrug. "No." "Why is it that you say 'no' and it sounds kind of like a 'yeah' to me?" "More like a 'not yet', maybe?" Her father frowned. "Babs, bullyin' a bully just makes you another bully." She looked up, torn between being sad and angry. "I know, I know. It's just... he picks on me. And I'm pretty sure his pals are pickin' on Squall too. And it really singes my tail." "There's nothin' for it but to grin and bear it. It's a right of passage, Babs - some ponies are just plain mean. But they fall by the roadside as you get older, mostly. Before you know it you won't even remember their names." "I'm tryin'. But lately I just wanna kick Jet Stone and his buddies so hard they forgets their names." "And you probably could." Her father met her frustrated gaze evenly. "He's a pegasus, after all. You get your hoofs on him, and you can probably pummel him six ways while the sun shines. But that don't make you the bigger pony, and you know it." Those calm green eyes worked their magic, and Babs found the anger she felt fading away, for the moment. She gave a dejected sigh, and her father pulled her in for a sturdy hug. "Just remember Babs, you can always be stronger than your bullies, and that's got nothin' to do with muscles. So you just need to make sure you don't give that up to play on their level. The last thing you want is to start actin' like them, and end up with a cutie mark in bein' mean." He gave her one last squeeze, and then stood back up in front of the stove with a grin. "Now, if we're done havin' a tender moment, this dinner ain't gonna cook itself." She only managed a smirk in return. "Yeah. What happened to feeding your hungry daughter? Sheesh. Get back to work, lazy-bones." "As m'lady wishes. Would m'lady be so kind as to set the table while I am busy slaving over this hot stove?" "I suppose. Anything to get this food on the table a little faster." She went back out into the dining room with plates and utensils in hoof. On one hoof, she felt a lot better about things, but on the other hoof she hadn't meant to bring up the almost-a-fight with Jet. It was easy to forget that underneath all her father's folksy charm was a pony who ran one of the biggest import businesses in Manehattan. You didn't do that kind of business without being gifted at reading ponies faces. She would have to tread a lot more carefully to make sure she didn't let anything slip about her classes with Cold Star or her secret Crusader training. She was still brooding about how exactly to accomplish that when her mother walked in, and she lost track of those worries in a flurry of welcome-home hugs and dinner being served. It wasn't until much later, once she had tucked herself into bed, that she realized she'd found a good idea for her Pledge. She hoped out of bed, and jotted it down, hoping that in the morning it still seemed as good an idea as it did right then. * * * * * In the morning, Babs arrived at Misty's house to find her waiting outside wearing her cape. "What happened to keeping a low profile?" Babs asked, confused. Misty just fell into step with her, wincing slightly at the aches in her legs. "I had a change of heart." Babs didn't say anything. She just pulled out her own cape and put it on. A few minutes later, Squall flew down from above, also wearing his cape. He seemed a little out of breath, but he was smiling. "So, you guys make any headway on your Pledges?" Babs and Misty both nodded, and for a few minutes they chatted about ideas while the walked the final half-block to school. When they reached the school gate, all three of them paused. They could see the Pack pointing an laughing already, and each of them knew, deep down, that this was a bad idea. They were going to get teased, and their feelings were probably going to get hurt. They would be told that he capes were nothing more than a way to cover up their blank-flanks. Babs put one hoof on the clasp of her cape, and it reminded her to be the stronger pony. Misty held the hem of her cape in her hoof, and it reminded her of her pride as a Crusader. Squall felt the weight of his cape resting against his sore shoulders, and it reminded him that getting stronger wasn't going to be easy. Capes flying in the breeze, the three Crusaders stepped through the gate to face another day.