The Crusaders; Ice Princess

by DJ TR33

Chapter 3

Scootaloo brought the spoon up to her mouth, quietly sipping the carrot soup. Across the table, Fluttershy was doing the same thing. The two were silent for a few seconds, before Fluttershy spoke up.

“So, how was your day?” the mare asked. With some ponies, the question was just a way to make conversation, but Scootaloo had found out by now that if Fluttershy asked a question, it was because she wanted to know the answer.

“Pretty good,” she responded. “We’re learning about the Trotjan war in history class, and then we went crusading.” Fluttershy cringed slightly at the last statement. Although she’d never said anything, it was clear to the filly that the mare didn’t like it when the three of them tried to get their cutie marks. “We went to the library, this time. Applebloom thought we should try being historians.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” the mare said softly, obviously relieved that they hadn’t done anything dangerous.

“And what about you?” Scootaloo asked her. “Did you do anything cool today?”

“Well, I helped Rarity with some of her dresses. She doesn’t have any pegasus mannequins, so she wanted me to pose for her.” Scootaloo nodded. Fluttershy didn’t do much that could be called exciting, most days, but it was still important to the mare, so Scootaloo made sure she seemed engaged.

The two sat in a companionable silence for a few more minutes, quietly sipping their soup. Finishing her bowl, Scootaloo stood up, carrying the bowl as she trotted into the kitchen. After a quick rinse, she put the bowl on a drying rack and returned to the table.

“Fluttershy, I’ve got some homework to do. Um, do you mind?” she asked, unsure. Fluttershy looked up in surprise.

“Oh no, not at all,” she said. The mare still wasn’t entirely used to having another pony in the house, and sometimes forgot that she was in charge of more than just animals.

Turning, Scootaloo walked over to the door and, grabbing her saddlebags in her mouth by the strap, carried them upstairs. Scootaloo walked into the room that she shared with the other mare. It had been strange, for a while, being in Fluttershy’s charge, but the filly had soon gotten used to the situation. The mare had taken her in after the crusaders had nearly wrecked her house during their sleep over. At first Scootaloo hadn’t understood why the other pegasus was letting the filly live in her house, but by the time that the adoption papers were signed Scootaloo had already grown to like the house and the mare, and even began to understand her a bit.

Of course, no matter how kind, Fluttershy could never be a substitute for her mom. Her mom was gone, and could never come back.

Scootaloo felt herself grimace at the direction her thoughts had taken her. She pulled out her homework, trying to distract herself, and was done with it in a few minutes. Although she didn’t always show it, the pegasus was a smart filly, and had never really had trouble with math. Her work for the night done, the pegasus lay down on the bed, thinking about what she should do next.

Of course, she could always read the book, like her friends were probably doing, but she still kind of felt that reading was something for eggheads. Even if her idol, Rainbow Dash, liked some action stories, that didn’t really make history tombs any less dorky. Still, it wasn’t like the filly had anything else to do. She tossed around the idea of watching the Everfree forest for a while, which was surprisingly relaxing for something that was so feral, before she dismissed that idea and turned her attention to the book.

Opening the text to the first page, she read outloud, “‘This is a novel that attempts to conceptualize the living situation and hippology of the pegasi monks of elder days.’ Geez, why do authors always feel the need to use such big words? I hope the whole book isn’t like this,” she said, rolling her eyes at the book before her.

The filly skipped ahead a few chapters, hoping to find a reference to the image on the front of the book. “Lets see, maybe in ‘Founding?’” the filly wondered. Turning to the section, she started to read again. “‘The Pegasi Monks were founded nearly thirteen hundred years ago, by an unknown pegasus. All historians know of the figure was that he had a disability that, at the time, was somewhat common, now suspected to be SWD (Stunted Wing Development), where the wings of a pegasus never fully develop, and in extreme cases render the pony unable to fly.

Tired of ridicule and a job market that was closed to him, the pegasus left the his town and went into the then uncharted wilderness, building a small hut and living off the land and nature around him. As word spread around, other pegasi with the same deformity left their own homes and meager existences to join him. While the ponies were never explicitly religious, their life of solitude in nature earned them the name of Pegasi Monks, or, as they were more commonly known, Those Crazy Ponies Living Off in the Forest.”

Scootaloo chuckled at the last part, trying to ignore the icy feeling she’d been having since the book mentioned SWD. Of course the filly knew about SWD; almost every pegasus did. It was a genetic disease, one that had taken many lives in the past. Now, though, it was practically extinct- a case hadn’t been reported for nearly two hundred years. Mostly, it was just used as an insult, calling ponies Stunters, a way of attacking a pegasus who had difficulty flying.

There was something about the passage in the book, about the trials the unnamed pegasus had to face, that struck a deep chord in the filly, and that scared her. She didn’t want to think of the possibility that all the teasing she had endured might turn out to be true. Quickly, she turned the page, skipping further ahead in the book.

“Let’s see- ‘Culture,’” she said, looking at the title of the next chapter. “Nah, looks boring. ‘Resources’? No, that doesn’t look any more interesting.” The filly looked at the cover of the book, where a pegasus punched at the air, standing on his hind legs. “Where’s the stuff on fighting?” she asked the book, flipping to the next chapter.

“'Conflict’,” she read aloud. “Okay, now were getting somewhere. She picked up her narration once more. “‘Although the Pegasi Monks quickly solved the issue with acquiring resources, they still faced many problems. A prominent issue that started to occur as the Monks gathered renown was numerous raids by bandits and thieves. Unlike most towns and cities at that time, the Monk’s homes were not protected by a city guard.

After one of the monks was actually killed by a bandit, the founder decided to find some way of defending themselves. Although they weren’t able to fly, the pegasi were able to balance on their hind legs, using their wings, as mentioned in the previous chapter.” Scootaloo paused, feeling slightly guilty about skipping ahead, but after a moment she continued. “The pegasi developed a unique fighting style, using primarily their front hooves and wings, and attacking from a superior height. This style ended up being so effective that the monks were able to chase away the next three raids. As news of their novel attacking style spread, nopony else dared to attack them, although the monks continued to train and improve their fighting style.”

Scootaloo found herself interested by the description of the fighting style, mainly because the way it was described was unlike any kind of style she’d ever heard about in the past. The filly shut the book, pushing it to the side, and then moved back to the center of the room.

Carefully, Scootaloo reared into the air, lifting off of her front legs. As she came up, she fanned her wings, propelling herself all the way up onto her back legs. Feeling herself tip over, the filly flapped her wings backwards, balancing herself.
After almost losing her balance a few times, Scootaloo finally got the hang of it. The position reminded her of when she rode her scooter; the orientation was the same, the only real difference being that she had to support herself with her wings rather than her handlebars. After a few minutes, the filly figured out how to support herself in the air with the least amount of effort possible.

Figuring out how to stand, the filly next went after trying to walk on two legs. The pegasus carefully lifted her right leg off the ground, bringing it forward. The filly immediately began to lose her balance, slipping backwards, and almost instinctively fanned her wings. Scootaloo felt herself rocking off her left leg, her weight being transferred to her right side, and then, as she felt herself tilting over, quickly brought her left leg in front of her, stopping her forward fall.

Scootaloo paused, surprised. It seemed that she had, accidentally, stumbled on the secret of walking on two legs; controlled falling. With that idea in mind, the pegasus quickly mastered the movement, and practiced walking around the room, sometimes managing as many as three steps without having to use her wings for balance.

Behind her, the filly heard the sounds of Fluttershy trotting up the stairs. Distracted, Scootaloo forgot to flap her wings, and felt herself falling backwards, hitting the ground on her back with a jarring thud.
A few seconds later, the mare came into view, looking concerned for the other pegasus. “Are you alright?” she asked, softly.

“Uh, yeah!” the filly replied, embarrassed. “I just, um, fell over.” Scootaloo scrambled to her feet, trying not to meet Fluttershy’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the mare said. Scootaloo knew that her appearance upstairs meant that all the animals had been taken care of, and now the mare was ready to fall asleep. Thinking about it, Scootaloo found herself tired as well. Although Fluttershy never asked, the filly tried to help out with the animals, and other domestic tasks around the house. Scootaloo felt it was the least she could do, considering everything the mare had done for her.

Still, it meant that, at the end of the day, Scootaloo was often as tired as Fluttershy. Because the mare only had one bedroom, Scootaloo had found herself going to sleep at the same time that Fluttershy would, and it became an unspoken rule in the house, or at least in the filly’s mind- whenever Fluttershy wanted to go to bed, that became Scootaloo’s new bedtime.
The two ponies climbed into their beds, on opposite sides of the room. As she was getting into bed, Scootaloo reflected on how her legs and wings hardly hurt, even though she’d been “walking” around for almost twenty minutes. The filly figured it probably had to do with all the time she’d spent hauling her friends around on her scooter. Still, just because she wasn’t sore didn’t mean that she wasn’t tired. The combined energy she’d spent that day with pulling her friends in a wagon, helping Fluttershy with the animals and teaching herself how to stand on two legs meant that the filly was asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

Comments

[Doublesims]

Cool

[BenRG]

Scootaloo as the heir of the Pegasus version of the Shao-Lin? The plot thickens!

[DJ TR33]

Sorry, I couldn't get this up tonight. School is sapping much more time than I expected, and I'm naturally a slow writer. I'll try to get this up over the weekend.

[Twilight_Shimmer]

MY only complaint about this story.... Is that is seems to be dead..

[Flame Heart]

Man this is a blast from the past I wish this thing wasn't dead I mean seriously it has 0 dislikes