Fragile

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As the morning sun rose in Ponyville, so did its denizens. The market stalls gradually began to line themselves with various wares, foods, and other oddments that the shopkeepers deemed worthy of display. In near perfect synchrony, signs flipped from the apologetic “Sorry, We’re Closed” to the inviting “Yes, We’re Open!” across the market districts. The smell of freshly baked goods wafted through the air, aided by the breeze emanating from the west. Up above, the few clouds still remaining in the sky were quickly purged by the early morning weather shift. It was one of the few days left in autumn that were scheduled to be warm and hospitable – the leaves had already started to fall in some places that had heavy traffic.

The parks and other swatches of grass lining the dirt roads still glimmered as the sun shone brightly on the morning dew that covered them. However, the schoolyard had only flecks and patches of this shimmer remaining, as the young fillies and colts had already proceeded to trample across them in their early morning play. Most of them arrived earlier than normal, each carrying a cardboard collage or poster laden with numerous facts, illustrations (hoof-drawn by the more artistically gifted), and blurbs about the topics for which they were constructed. Most of them.

However, at Sweet Apple Acres, a young light-yellow filly topped with a vivid red mane and a large pink bow leaned against the white fence encircling the exterior, and released an exasperated sigh. She too had one of the project boards, yet she was on the precipice of running late to class. That was something that neither her big sister, Applejack, nor grandmother, Granny Smith, would take very well. Considering that the project made up for a significant portion of the semester’s grade, her aversion to tardiness on this day in particular was understandable. Her name was Apple Bloom, and she was waiting for her two friends, a unicorn named Sweetie Belle, and (the one who was piloting the transport vehicle) a pegasus pony named-

“Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom called out, with nothing but a soft breeze and distant clucking of chickens to offer their acknowledgment of her frustration. Neither of them did. “Where in tarnation are those two?” she cried, growing more frustrated. Gazing at the sunbeams filtering along the horizon through several apple trees, the young filly judged that she had around 15 to 20 minutes before the school bell rang. Sighing once again, she folded the cardboard presentation along it’s perforations into thirds, and hoisted it on to her back with her teeth. As she began to trot down the dirt path lined with apple trees, her project slipped off from her back and landed with a soft thump on ground at her side. She turned erratically, leaning down to grip one of the folded edges with her small mouth. Apple Bloom counted silently to herself, a quick cadence, before whipping her head upward and bringing the now unfurled school diorama over her back once more. Again, she started down the road. Another ten or so meters, and the diorama rolled off her back.

“UGH! This thing is bigger than me, how am Ah supposed to carry it by myself?” Apple Bloom cried in frustration. This was why she, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo – the collective they dubbed the Cutie Mark Crusaders – had arranged for Scootaloo to pick them up with her scooter. As a young Pegasus, Scootaloo had a set of equally young wings. Although they had not yet developed the size or ability to fly, her wings could flap with enough speed to supply her two-wheeled scooter with a surprisingly robust form of propulsion. Indeed, it was strong enough for Scootaloo to pull both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle behind her in a small red wagon. While Scootaloo piloted them to school, it would leave the other two with a free set of hooves to grasp all of their school work. Apple Bloom had thought of the idea, and it would have worked perfectly if Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had both arrived when they had agreed to.

Apple Bloom half-considered returning back to her house to see if Applejack or Big Macintosh (her quiet older brother) would help, when from behind her, she heard someone calling her name. She recognized the voice as Sweetie Belle’s, and sure enough upon turning around, she saw the white unicorn bouncing along in the red wagon, cotton candy mane windswept and untidily flopping above her. Pulling the wagon was a panting orange Scootaloo, adorned with a purple mane (hidden by the purple safety helmet she wore for protection while riding her scooter) and matching violet eyes. Scootaloo gently eased on the brakes while her wings twitched to a halt, the scooter and trailer coasting slowly to a stop alongside the yellow earth pony.

Sweetie Belle bounced upwards, pushing herself to the back of the wagon and leaving enough room for Apple Bloom to climb aboard in front of her and her own school project, also larger than the unicorn filly. “Good morning, Apple Bloom!” she greeted cheerfully, a wide smile adorning her face, flickering ever-so-slightly at the annoyed grimace worn by Apple Bloom. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

“What took y’all so long?” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “Ah thought we agreed to get to school early this mornin’. You know, to put the finishing touches on our projects?” she stated.

Scootaloo took a deep breath, sputtering out her morning greeting. “Morning, AB. Sorry about that, that was my bad. I was getting my project ready to go late last night, and I overslept a little.” She wiped away a bead of sweat from her brow, clear evidence that despite her tardiness, Scootaloo had indeed intended to make up for lost time. As such, she gestured for Apple Bloom to hop in the wagon behind her. Sweetie Belle, just as anxious to get to school, patted the spot invitingly, much like one would to entice a cat or dog to park themselves next to their owner. A habit she no doubt picked up from her sister, Rarity, who often tried vainly to tame her cat, Opalescence.

Apple Bloom smiled at the thought, handing her diorama to Sweetie Belle’s outstretched hooves before hopping into the wagon in front of her. She rotated herself enough to grab her project and set it standing before her. “At least ya made it, and not too late,” she conceded, accepting Scootaloo’s apology. “Although, Ah coulda carried it mahself anyways,” Apple Bloom added.

“Really?” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “Mine is bigger than me, there’s no way I could have carried it by myself.” Scootaloo’s wings began buzzing not unlike those of a hummingbird, and the trio lurched forward, en route to the schoolhouse. Apple Bloom grinned sheepishly to herself, not caring to admit she had uttered those very words less than thirty seconds to her friend’s arrival. Keeping her diorama folded in front of her, she examined the outside of it for signs of damage that may have been incurred during her attempt at solo travel. Other than a barely noticeable bend along the right edge, it was pristine. She felt Sweetie Belle brace her diorama against her back, no doubt conducting an inspection of her own. Apple Bloom saw (and felt!) trace flecks of glitter raining down from above her. It was very Sweetie Belle. Having worked with Sweetie Belle extensively on their projects together, she knew that the specks and sparkles that settled on her mane were just fragments of the spectacle within the cardboard shell. They had been given two weeks to prepare them, and Sweetie Belle spent a majority of hers with gluing pink, red, and white construction paper hearts coated in multiple shiny layers of glitter to the cardboard frame. However, she also noticed something else.

“Hey, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom yelled around the furiously beating wings in front of her.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s yours?”

The rhythmic pulse of the wings ceased jarringly for only a moment, before resuming their cycle. Scootaloo bent her head to the left, careful to ensure there was nothing in front of her before taking her eyes off the road. “What was that?”

Apple Bloom quickly turned her head around behind her, looking just to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. Sweetie Belle followed suit, lifting herself just slightly to check that she wasn’t sitting on it.

"Your Holidays of Equestria project for school,” Apple Bloom clarified. “Did you forget it at home?”

Another jerk as their motor halted, this time easing to a stop as they coasted slowly up to the front of the schoolyard. Scootaloo leapt from her seat, unbuckling her helmet, and resting the scooter in place. “We’re here! Just in time too,” she exclaimed louder than the situation called for.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both lowered themselves out of the wagon, exchanging glances at one another. This time, it was Sweetie Belle who asked about Scootaloo’s school assignment. “Scoots, you do have your project, right?” Scootaloo, careful not to look at either pony as she precariously hung her helmet from it’s strap onto the handlebars of her scooter, mumbled soft enough that only she could hear it. The other two fillies both raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” Sweetie Belle offered again sweetly. Scootaloo’s little wings twitched as she turned to face her interrogators, a look of discontent lining her face.

“I was just gonna do an… um, you know, an oral presentation,” she sputtered out.

“An oral presentation?” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle echoed simultaneously.

“You can’t do just an oral presentation for this, Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom preached.

“Yeah,” chimed in Sweetie Belle. “The visual aid is half the grade. Even if you aced the actual speaking part, you would still…” she stopped as her Pegasus friend’s eyes widened and narrowed in time with her words.

“I’m not gonna fail,” Scootaloo said crossly. “I’ll be just fine. I’m just gonna have to really make it pop.”

Apple Bloom looked nervously between Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. “If you’re sure… but, why ain’tcha got one? Isn’t that why you were late?” Scootaloo opened her mouth just as soon as Apple Bloom finished the question to defend herself.

“Hey! We’re not late! I made it here with like… five minutes to spare.”

Cheerilee, the school teacher stuck her head out of the door and yelled. “Alright, my little ponies! Two minutes until class! Please come in and take your seats so we can get started on the presentations.”

“OK, so two minutes,” Scootaloo corrected herself. “I would have done it, you know, but I just didn’t have time,” she stammered.

“Didn’t have time?” Apple Bloom asked incredulously, her inexplicable southern accent punctuating her vowels. “Me n’ Sweetie been holed up in Twilight’s library-”

“Princess Twilight’s library, you mean,” Scootaloo interrupted smartly.

“The point is, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle spoke cautiously, trying to defuse the situation. She couldn’t stand to watch her friends fight. “We’ve been working non-stop these past two weeks in the library to get it done. Every time we ask you to come with, you’re always busy.”

“I’m always busy this time of year,” Scootaloo said quickly. “Besides, I’m sure that Princess Twilight Sparkle has better things to do than help a bunch of fillies with school work.”

“Nuh-uh!” Apple Bloom argued, shaking her head. “Princess Twilight is real big on education. When she wasn’t working with Rainbow Dash outside, she and Spike were really nice about helping us find books, and making us snacks and stuff.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes, offering a sarcastic “I’m sure” in response. She took a deep breath, and tried her best to reassure the other two that they were making too big a deal about it. “Don’t worry about it, girls. I’ll… I’ll figure something out. As long as I max points on the talking bits, I’m sure I’ll still have a good enough grade at the end of the semester.” Scootaloo started up the front steps, taking small hops to ascend quicker. “Come on, let’s get to class.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both sighed, gripping their cardboard with their teeth and placing them on their backs. They strode up behind Scootaloo, careful to hold their cargo steady as their friend held the door for them.

“Thanks,” Sweetie Belle said as she made her way inside. The smell of chalk and ink hung around the air, the door closing behind the three. “So, which holiday DID you go with?” She asked, turning her head to look behind her at Scootaloo.

“I went with umm… Hearts and Hooves Day. Should be an easy one, right?” Scootaloo replied.

“Eep!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, bouncing ever so slightly. It was just enough for her folded cardboard diorama to fall to the floor on it’s back, the folded thirds unfurling and causing a small puff of glitter to rise from the collage. A bright pink and red cacophony of color and shimmer lay on the floor before the ponies, with words crafted meticulously from bright yellow construction paper reading “Hearts and Hooves Day!”

Scootaloo turned her head to read the font. “Oh, uhh… you’re doing it too?” she inquired.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both fidgeted while the former answered. “Well, yes. And no. Not also. Don’t you remember what Miss Cheerilee said about the project?” Scootaloo shook her head.

"We all have to do a different holiday,” Apple Bloom explained, unfolding her project. It was much less glamorous, divided neatly into square sections of many hues, mainly red and green. On top, it said “Hearth’s Warming Eve”. “You woulda known that Sweetie was doin’ Hearts and Hooves Day if you had worked with us,” she finished with a rather accusatory tone.

“Be nice,” Sweetie Belle whispered to her, motioning towards the increasingly distraught Scootaloo.

“Sorry, Scoots. Ah didn’t mean for it to come out that way…” Apple Bloom apologized, speech slowing towards the end of her sentence as she watched Scootaloo grow pallid.

Scootaloo gulped, her eyes growing wide. “Does this mean that… oh no…” A torrent of their classmates came brushing past the three in the hallways. Sweetie Belle picked up her Hearts and Hooves Day diorama, leaving behind yet another light frosting of glitter on the floor that had been shaken loose. Scootaloo noticed that all of the ponies moving past them were carrying various posters, folders, single-page collages, and pictures with them. Some also carried hefty cardboard displays like her friends had. She felt horribly exposed not having one of her own. And now, she didn’t have a researched holiday to present at all.

“Girls… I think I’m gonna fail.”

The Fiddle & The Drum

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“Calm down, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom coaxed as reassuringly as she could. “Ah’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

“You think so?” Scootaloo looked up from the wooden floor she had been gazing at, eyes alight with hope. “Like, maybe we could just explain that I didn’t know that we all had to have something different. Maybe you and I could present Hearts and Hooves Day together, Sweetie Belle!”

Sweetie Belle didn’t share her enthusiasm quite so readily. “Yeah… except…”

“Except what?” Apple Bloom and Scootaloo demanded in unison.

Sweetie Belle raised her hoof, pointing to a sheet on the inside of the door to Cheerilee’s classroom. It broadcasted the words “Holidays of Equestria Sign-Up Sheet.” Below the heading, there were two columns. The left hoof column listed, in alphabetical order, the names of the entire class roster. Apple Bloom’s name topped the list, and adjacent to her name in the right hoof column was the holiday she had chosen; “Hearth’s Warming Eve”. The rest of the sheet followed suit until Scootaloo’s name, the only one without a selected holiday filled in next to it.

“Oh… right. Forgot about that,” Apple Bloom swallowed. It had been a busy two weeks since she had chosen the object of her research, and she had forgotten that she actually had to sign a sheet to make it official. Her eyes lingered on the noticeably blank line next to Scootaloo’s name. Scootaloo simply uttered a defeated groan.

“I don’t know if she’ll let you work with me,” Sweetie Belle continued. “I mean, you didn’t even pick a holiday.” She was probably correct. Cheerilee was a very sweet teacher, and was generally equal parts tough and fair. She had on more than one occasion pardoned a lapse in memory for an overnight assignment, but a two week long project such as this would almost certainly be found inexcusable.

“We can at least try though, right?” Scootaloo stammered.

“Maybe,” Apple Bloom said, gears visibly turning as she thought of another solution to save Scootaloo from a failing grade and humiliation in front of her classmates. “But, why ain’t ya even pick a holiday? There’s plenty to pick from.”

Scootaloo shuffled uncomfortably in place before offering her answer. “Plenty? I couldn’t remember any of them. At least, other than the ones we get days off from. I just… couldn’t remember, you know?”

“Well, that’s why you shoulda gone to the library with us,” Apple Bloom clicked her tongue. Like her sister, she believed in plain speaking, even if it might come across as abrasive at times, much to Scootaloo's chagrin. “Ah’m sure Princess Twilight woulda helped you pick a real neat one if you’d a bothered to ask her.” Scootaloo scoffed loudly at this.

“No thanks,” she protested. “Besides, I told you, I was busy.”

“Busy with what?” This time it was Sweetie Belle who expressed interest.

“Flying lessons – w-with Rainbow Dash,” Scootaloo answered hastily.

“But Ah thought – after the whole flag carrying thing,” Apple Bloom interjected. “Ah thought that you were cool with, ya know, not flying.”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least TRY.” Scootaloo spoke defensively.

“What about your homework? Shouldn’t you try with that too?” Apple Bloom accused.

“You don’t get it! But you’re not a pegasus, I shouldn’t expect you to.”

“Maybe Ah ain’t, but Ah know that learning to do new things like schoolwork is just as important as practicing somethin’ you already know how to.”

“Clearly I don’t know how, or I’d be able to fly already.”

“Ah thought we already went through this…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that maybe you just aren’t meant to fly. Maybe you could learn to do somethin’ else?”

“Easy to say for somepony who does manual labor for a living, don’t you think?”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“STOP IT!”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, whom had inched closer and closer as their voices got louder and louder, both stopped and turned to look at Sweetie Belle. Her pale green eyes shimmered as she grew closer to the verge of tears. “Just stop it, both of you!”

Mere weeks ago, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had won the privilege to carry the Ponyville Flag at the Equestria Games by showcasing a spectacular routine depicting what about Ponyville was so unique. However, due to Scootaloo’s own insecurities, coupled with the taunting of fellow classmates Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, Scootaloo very nearly missed attending the performance at all. She had decided that if she, representing the pegasi of Ponyville, couldn’t fly, that she simply wasn’t going to attend. Apple Bloom, in her frustration with a failed routine and Scootaloo’s stubbornness, branded her pegasus friend a quitter.

Of course, Scootaloo came around (with help from her fellow crusaders, and her idol Rainbow Dash), but it was evident that there was still a tension between the two. Apple Bloom in particular believed strongly in hard work, and she held little tolerance for apparent laziness just like her sister Applejack, and was just as resistant to excuses.

“I’m sick of this fighting,” Sweetie Belle pleaded. “We’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders! We should be trying to help each other, no matter what. Not blaming each other for things that happened in the past. You two didn’t forget that already, did you?”

Apple Bloom prodded the floor with her hooves, her face riddled with shame. “No… you’re right.” She turned to face Scootaloo, who had returned to looking at the floor. “Ah’m sorry, Scootaloo. I just get so worked up… and you don’t exactly make things easy.”

“Thanks, Apple Bloom. It’s been kinda tough this past month, what with Diamond Tiara constantly teasing me and all, but that’s no excuse for what I said, or did,” Scootaloo offered as an apology. “But it wouldn’t be worth it if it was easy, right?”

“What wouldn’t?” Apple Bloom asked quizzically, tilting her head.

Scootaloo smiled, looking down the hall to make sure no one was listening. “You know… being friends, despite our differences. Just like our routine showed,” she said earnestly.

“Awwww!” Scootaloo’s eyes bulged as her white unicorn friend pulled both her and Apple Bloom into a powerful (if somewhat asphyxiating) embrace that lifted them from the ground.

"Sweetie… Ah can’t breathe!” Apple Bloom choked.

“Nnng… me neither.” Scootaloo added as best she could muster, little wings buzzing as if to try and pull their operator free.

“Crusaders?” Sweetie Belle chimed as she released the gasping duo to the ground.

“Crusaders!” The other two chorused together.

“Oh, and don’t mention that whole… friendship thing I just said. I have a reputation to uphold,” Scootaloo added, blushing at the sentiment she normally strived to avoid.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Rainbow Dash,” Apple Bloom teased with a toothy grin.

“Okay…” Sweetie Belle agreed reluctantly.

“Thanks, girls. So, you’ll help with my project then?” Scootaloo asked again, eyes just as hopeful as before.

“Of course we will!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, her voice squeaking like usual when she was excited.

“What are friends for?” Apple Bloom asked rhetorically. “Now, how are we going to explain to Miss Cheerilee about this whole thing?” As if on cue, their teacher poked her head out of the open door to the classroom.

“Come on, girls! We have to get started immediately if we’re going to finish all of the presentations before lunch!” She retreated back into the classroom, calling the students to settle down for the third time that morning.

“Hmmm…” Sweetie Belle mused as a wide grin spread across her face. She hoisted her refolded project above her once more, and slyly hinted about her plan. “Maybe we won’t have to.”

“What do you mean?” Apple Bloom inquired as Scootaloo helped her lift her diorama onto her back. Sweetie Belle drew close to them, and whispered the newly hatched plot to her comrades.

“That’s a great idea! Why didn’t Ah think of that?”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders filed into the classroom, Apple Bloom taking point, with Scootaloo hiding between her and Sweetie Belle to hopefully disguise the fact that she didn’t have her project with her. Scootaloo sighed in relief, all of her classmates occupied with their own presentations, chattering excitedly amongst themselves about the holiday of their choice. All of them except –

“Well, if it isn’t the Cutie Mark Lame-saders,” came the high pitched drawl of the bright pink earth pony, Diamond Tiara. The Crusaders all rolled their eyes at this. Ever since they had won at the contest to carry the flag at the Equestria Games, Diamond Tiara (and by proxy, her friend and lackey Silver Spoon) were utterly ruthless in their teasing of the three. They had gotten used to it, mostly.

“Nice to see you too,” Scootaloo snapped at her sarcastically. “Still nursing that bitter defeat, huh?”

Diamond Tiara’s vivid blue eyes analyzed the pegasus meticulously, scanning for something else by which to taunt and tease her. She had a particular animosity towards Scootaloo after she showed up and ruined her and Silver Spoon’s chance of winning with their rather graceful performance of a high-class ballet at the flag carrying contest. Both of the wealthy earth ponies had been banking on Scootaloo quitting, and assuring both of them a victory. Despite their teasing of her underdeveloped wings, Scootaloo came through, much to their chagrin.

“I’m sorry, didn’t quite catch that, blank flank – you’re a bit more bare than usual today. Where’s your project?” She probed.

“It’s uh… none of your business!” Scootaloo retorted. Diamond Tiara’s eyes gleamed maliciously – she had touched a nerve, and she knew it.

“Imagine that – a featherbrained pegasus forgetting her schoolwork. Spending too much time with your head in the clouds? Oh, what am I saying? Of course not!”

Apple Bloom piped in to her friend’s defense, which was just as well. Behind Scootaloo’s furrowed eyebrows, she looked to be selecting and arranging some powerful choice words that would surely get her into more trouble than simply neglecting her schoolwork.

“At least her project’s got heart and hard work behind it,” Apple Bloom lied through her teeth, Scootaloo shooting a quick, confused glare at her. “How much did you pay for your servants to do yours?”

“Hmph!” Diamond Tiara snorted, looking down at the poster leaning against her desk, its’ contents facing away from the Crusaders. “If you must know, Late Bloomer, I chose this one and did it all by myself. I’m sure that you–” she pointed at Scootaloo, who didn’t as much as flinch at the hoof being mere inches from her muzzle. “–will appreciate it.”

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” Sweetie Belle asked her, trying and failing to sound as tough or intimidating as Apple Bloom did when rushing to aid Scootaloo.

“Heh,” Diamond Tiara chuckled malevolently. “You’ll see.” she finished in a sing-song voice.

As the rest of the class began to settle, the Crusaders continued past Diamond Tiara’s and Silver Spoon’s (currently empty) desk towards their own.

“I hate leaving her with the last word…” Scootaloo grumbled.

“Ah know, Scoots, and so do Ah, but trust me – she ain’t worth the trouble.” Apple Bloom told her to try and alleviate her friend’s foul mood. Judging from the soured expression still worn by Scootaloo as she no doubt tried to burn a hole through the back of Diamond Tiara’s head with her eyes, it wasn’t helping.

“What’s with telling her about my project?” Scootaloo whispered with an irritated tone. “She’s gonna find that I don’t have it done. Then what?”

“Ah can’t stand her having the last word,” Apple Bloom echoed. “The thought of her with that satisfied grin…” Apple Bloom shuddered.

“It’s only going to be worse when it’s front of the entire class if Sweetie’s plan falls through,” Scootaloo replied worriedly.

Sweetie Belle leaned towards her two friends, a confident grin on her face. “Don’t worry, our plan will work. I know the history of Hearts and Hooves Day by, well… heart! And I know Miss Cheerilee will appreciate the extra details!”

“Yup,” interjected Apple Bloom. “Ah helped Applejack with her lines from the Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant, so Ah know Ah can run up the clock!”

“I sure hope you’re right,” Scootaloo said uncertainly.

“We’ll be just fine. Once we’re clear today, we can work on it this weekend for Monday’s make-up presentations,” Sweetie Belle replied. “Everything’s going to be just fine. But…” she wandered off.

“But what?” Scootaloo asked, slightly panicked.

“I wonder what she meant by that bit at the end. Diamond Tiara, I mean,” Sweetie Belle pondered out loud to her friends, both of whom shrugged.

“Who knows?” Apple Bloom answered.

“And who cares?” Scootaloo followed up. “She’s just a sore loser coming up with her stupid empty insults as usual.”

“I’m sure yer right,” Apple Bloom agreed.

A grey earth pony with a silver mane and large blue glasses burst through the door of the classroom, her two silk saddlebags bouncing against her flanks. The rest of the class flicked their gazes towards her momentarily, but only Diamond Tiara said anything. “Silver Spoon! What took you so long?” Scootaloo leaned forward, trying her best to listen to them in hopes of finding out what exactly Diamond Tiara was hinting at.

Silver Spoon, still panting from her sprint, mumbled a low apology to her friend. “S-sorry. Some of the fe-”

“SHHH!” Diamond Tiara interrupted her, turning back to witness Scootaloo practically lifting herself out of her desk in her efforts to eavesdrop. Scootaloo immediately collapsed back into her seat, nonchalantly looking away from the two, their glares still visible from her peripherals. Scootaloo felt the heat rising in her face, and looked with a bizarre level of fascination at Cheerilee organizing papers onto a clipboard. Finally, it seemed that both Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had felt comfortable enough to resume their discussion, albeit in hushed tones. Scootaloo was half considering leaning forward again to try and catch wind of their plotting when Cheerilee addressed her charges.

“Alright, class,” she greeted them with her usual bright and excited tone at the prospect of teaching younger ponies. “As you all know, today is the day for our Holidays of Equestria presentations. I can already tell from here that you’ve all put a ton of work into making them extra special!” Scootaloo shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’d also like to take this opportunity to remind you that next week has another Equestrian holiday. Can anypony tell me which one it is?”

A plethora of hooves were raised in the air, some of the more confident ones waving side to side in a bid for their teacher’s attention. “Let’s see… Featherweight?” She called to a thin and lanky beige pegasus in the corner of the room.

“The Running of the Leaves!” he cried excitedly.

“Very good!” Cheerilee complimented. “Yes, the Running of the Leaves is indeed next week. Now, it falls on Wednesday, which means that we will unfortunately be dismissed early that day–” A chorus of cheers exploded from the students. Cheerilee rolled her eyes jokingly, smiling at their interpretation of the news. “I am certain that plenty of us will be attending along the trail in support, but I strongly encourage you to participate in the Running itself.”

“Will you be partithipating, Mith Cheerilee?” came a voice from the center of the classroom.

“Not this year, Twist,” Cheerilee replied, having recognized the telltale lisp of the filly. “I will be at one of the checkpoints to give out water and refreshments. However, if any of my students should come on by as a runner, I may give out a little something extra as well,” she said tantalizingly, brandishing a stack of purple coupons in her hooves. The class issued a collective “Ooooooh” – they recognized the slips of papers as coupons for a free pass on a homework assignment.

“While we’re on the topic, did anyone have the Running of the Leaves selected as their topic for the project?” Cheerilee questioned. Featherweight raised his hoof yet again. “I should have known,” she chuckled. “Would you like to start the presentations with yours?”

“With pleasure,” Featherweight beamed. He gripped his poster with his hooves, and flapped his wings several times, gliding to the front of the classroom after almost hitting the ceiling.

“Show off…” Scootaloo muttered quietly under her breath.

Featherweight flipped his poster to face the classroom. It was given a fitting outline of bright red, orange, and yellow leaves forming a border around the poster. The text spelling “Running of the Leaves” was assembled using only stems and small twigs, a rather creative touch judging from yet another series of “Oooooh’s” coming from the class again.

“Lovely! Alright, Featherweight… Whenever you’re ready, you may begin,” Cheerilee said, flipping to a blank grading template in her clipboard, quill at the ready.

It was around 8:30 in the morning when the presentations started, and to Scootaloo, time couldn’t have been acting more bizarrely. The presentations seemed to drag on forever, yet, each time she glanced at the clock, only a couple of minutes seemed to have passed. She tried to pay attention to the presentations themselves, but she couldn’t muster the attention span required. Even some of the more interesting ones, such as Buttons’ “Emergence Day” (which he insisted to Miss Cheerilee was “completely real”), which served as the anniversary for the entire planet being attacked by subterranean ponies whom had dwelled beneath the surface for centuries to wreak vengeance upon happy surface ponies. Despite not being an actual holiday, the class, Miss Cheerilee included, appreciated the creative contribution and effort applied, and offered ample applause.

Scootaloo absentmindedly clapped her hooves together at the end of classmate Dinky’s “Grace and Gratitude Day” project, turning her gaze to the clock again. It was 10:07. Another hour and twenty three minutes to go until lunch. Ms. Cheerilee had arranged a trip to city hall afterwards, where Mayor Mare would be telling the students about the town’s founding, and the holiday it was going to be receiving in light of the town’s 75th anniversary. The class already knew the history, owing largely in part to Apple Bloom’s grandmother Granny Smith detailing it during her Family Appreciation Day (which Silver Spoon, one of the descendants of the wealthy founding families, had chosen for her holiday), but it was still a pretty nice excuse to get out and about on a field trip before the weather grew too cold in the next couple of weeks.

“…and that’s why I encourage everypony here to remember the ones who fought and fell bravely in the line of duty to protect our nation, and to be supportive of everypony serving in the Equestria Royal Army on Remembrance Day!”

A cacophony of cheering and clapping pulled Scootaloo from her mire of thoughts, as fellow pegasus Rumble finished his presentation. Naturally, seeing as his brother Thunderlane would be applying after the winter season for the Canterlot National Guard from his position on the weather team, Scootaloo was hardly surprised at Rumble’s choice. Despite having told the entire class many times over, Cheerilee indulged his rationale with rapt attention.

“…Not yet, but my brother Thunderlane is going to be moving to Canterlot next year after the Winter Wrap Up to serve,” Rumble explained proudly. “He’s going to train to be a combat flyer!”

“How exciting! We’ll be sure to send him a great card when he settles in, won’t we class?”

There were many loud cries affirming Cheerilee’s idea.

“Wonderful! Thank you for the presentation, Rumble, it was very well done and personal. I can always appreciate a personal touch applied to a professional project,” Cheerliee complimented, handing Rumble his grading slip. He smiled broadly and raised it to the class, displaying a large red A on the top, with some small flavor text alongside it that Scootaloo couldn’t quite read. “You may take your seat, Rumble. Now then, who would like to go next?” Cheerilee asked the class.

Scootaloo felt queasy and bent her head down, hoping to avoid eye contact with the teacher. How many of her class had gone already? She didn’t dare look up at the clock, lest she attract any attention from her teacher and risk being selected. Suddenly, she heard Sweetie Belle move in the seat next to hear, as if sensing her friend’s unease.

“If you enjoy personal touches, then you are going to love my holiday, Miss Cheerilee!” Sweetie Belle rang.

Cheerilee looked amusedly at her. “Really? Why’s that?” she inquired.

“Because my holiday is Hearts and Hooves Day!” Sweetie Belle beamed.

The teacher’s eyes widened, and her face was lashed with a streak of crimson. “Oh goodness gracious… You don’t say!” Cheerilee gripped a cup of water, and began to gulp it down with startling efficiency, while Sweetie Belle hopped from her seat, taking her folded cardboard diorama with her. Sweetie Belle offered Scootaloo a reassuring nod before turning to walk to the front of the classroom.

“Now, Sweetie Belle, this is just about the history of Hearts and Hooves Day, correct? Not current, or, I don’t know, semi-current happenings?” Cheerilee laughed nervously, still brandishing a flushed countenance.

“Of course! It’s all about the history of Hearts and Hooves Day!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

“Good, good. History…” Cheerilee wrote Sweetie Belle’s name on the top of a fresh grading sheet, and underneath wrote “Hearts and Hooves Day” for the holiday. “Whenever you are ready, you may begin. But remember! History!” the teacher reiterated again.

Sweetie Belle nodded, unfolding her cardboard, revealing its contents to the class. Par for the course, it elicited a series of “Ooooohs” from her peers. They quite enjoyed being pelted with a volley of dazzle, sparkle, and of course, the color pink. She cleared her throat authoritatively, taking a deep breath –

“Did you know that Hearts and Hooves Day was originally started because of a love potion?”

“…So remember, especially on Hearts and Hooves day, be especially careful of what you drink. Otherwise, all of Equestria may fall into ruin, stricken by famine, and governed by uneducated ponies. Thank you!”

Sweetie Belle took several bows, her classmates staring at her with mouths gaping open, completely silent.

“Well, that really was the history of Hearts and Hooves Day,” Cheerilee said uncertainly. “I didn’t know it was so grim or…” She looked at the clock, which now read 10:43. “…extensive.”

“Oh yes!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, hopping up as she did so. “It’s one of my favorite holidays, I wanted to make sure I covered everything I could about it!”

“I think it’s safe to say you accomplished that,” Cheerilee confirmed. “It was very thorough, and I love your visual aid – it’s so…” She scanned the sparkle laden diorama trying to find a word for it. “It’s so glitterific!” she improvised.

“Really?” Sweetie Belle asked excitedly.

“Yes, it reminds me so much of the card you three made for me last Hearts and Hooves Day – I suspect you had a large hoof in making that one as well?” Cheerilee fished.

Sweetie Belle beamed proudly, and then suddenly stopped and frowned. “That reminds me! I forgot to include our Hearts and Hooves Day adventure in my presentation!” No sooner than after she had spoken the last syllable, her teacher thrust her grading sheet in Sweetie Belle’s face, a large red “A” emblazoned at the top in sloppy, hasty writing. Sweetie Belle grabbed it and gasped. “Yay! An A! Hey, that rhymed!”

Her teacher had taken the liberty of folding Sweetie Belle’s diorama for her, passing it to her quickly and somewhat roughly. “Yes, yes, you’re a poet and you didn’t even know it. Everypony, a round of applause for a fantastic presentation please!” Cheerilee called. Sweetie Belle returned to her seat, leaving a trail of glitter behind her as she gripped the corner of it with her mouth, her classmates cheering and clapping around her. She leaned it against her desk, and took her seat next to a grinning Scootaloo.

“You did awesome, Sweetie Belle! That was almost half an hour – if Apple Bloom can match it, we’ll be golden!” Scootaloo whispered happily.

“I told you it would work! We just need to run the clock out until lunch,” Sweetie Belle confirmed. “Apple Bloom, you ready to go?”

Apple Bloom had already left her seat, and was marching past Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s desk with her presentation in her mouth. She leaned it up against the blackboard, and proceeded to unfold it for the rest of the class to see. After it was opened, she stepped aside and turned to face her teacher, who was eyeing the holiday collage with interest.

“Ah yes, the one holiday that everypony guns for – Hearth’s Warming Eve!” Cheerilee thought out loud, writing down Apple Bloom’s name and holiday on a new grading sheet.

“Yup! Ah feel pretty lucky to have snapped it right quick like Ah did.” Apple Bloom replied.

“Yes,” Cheerilee started. “But you also have one of the most difficult ones to impress with.”

“Whaddya mean?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Everypony knows about Hearth’s Warming Eve, so you’ll have to work extra hard to stand out,” Cheerilee continued. “I’ve seen the pageant fifteen times, but I’m sure you will be very creative and offer a brand new insight! Whenever you’re ready…”

Apple Bloom cleared her throat, and stepped forward towards the rest of the class. She stood with an unnatural stiffness, her little filly chest puffed out to make herself appear to have more of a presence.

“Why thank you, Miss Cheerilee. Ah cannot begin to impress enough how important this holiday is for me, and for mah family; For Ponyville. Heck, for all of Equestria!” she boomed.

“Well, you’ve certainly got my attention already! It’s already shaping up to be more exciting than the pageant!” her teacher complimented from behind.

Apple Bloom nodded curtly before continuing. She turned her head upwards and angled it, as if to appear lost in thought. “But where would Equestria be, if not for Hearth’s Warming Eve?” she asked. “Ah am goin' to tell you a story now, everypony. A story of a land before Equestria.” Apple Bloom cleared her throat again, and spoke in a very peculiar accent that did not mix at all with her charming southern twang. “Once upon a time, long before the peaceful rule of Celestia, and before ponies discovered our beautiful land of Equestria, ponies did not know harmony. It was a strange and dark time. A time when ponies were torn apart... by hatred!”

“…We are a circle of pony friends, a circle of friends we’ll be till the very eeeeeeeeeeeeennd!”

Apple Bloom finished her song, and like Sweetie Belle before her, took several bows. “Fillies and gentlecolts, Hearth’s Warming Eve!” she exclaimed. A series of mixed murmurs and disorganized claps made their way throughout the room. Apple Bloom looked around the room, large amber eyes scanning her audience.

“…and now I’ve seen the pageant SIXteen times” Cheerilee said aloud behind her. “Apple Bloom, I can’t say that I’m impressed by your well-worn take on Hearth’s Warming Eve…” the filly looked down embarrassedly. “…but am I ever impressed that you memorized the entire thing word-for-word! And your singing was wonderful! Let’s hear it for Apple Bloom, everypony!”

Scootaloo joined the clapping with the rest of the class, thoroughly entertained at the one-pony play put forth in front of them. Apple Bloom hadn’t been kidding – she memorized the entire Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant script. That was sure to chew up a whole bunch of time, right? She looked at the clock and saw –

11:08. Apple Bloom walked proudly up to her desk, slipping for just a moment of a pile of excess glitter from Sweetie Belle’s poster , and upon seeing Scootaloo’s expression, immediately turned and to watch the clock face as well. She spat out her grading slip (with an A written on it) and let her diorama fall to the floor.

“Ah’m sorry, Scootaloo! Ah didn’t know the pageant was only twenty two minutes!” Apple Bloom apologized.

“It’s alright, Apple Bloom. And you too Sweetie Belle, thanks so much for trying,” Scootaloo offered her most sincere smile that she could, given her disappointment. “I’ll just tell her the truth that I didn’t do it.”

The three sat for just a moment in silence, waiting for Cheerilee to call Scootaloo up to the front of the classroom. Although it was only a moment, it seemed to drag on and on. Finally –

“Alright, next presenter, come on up, please! Quickly now!” Cheerilee’s suitably cheerful voice rang, piercing Scootaloo’s ears. Scootaloo took a deep breath and used her front forehooves to lift her from her desk when suddenly –

“Excellent! What holiday have you chosen, Diamond Tiara?”

Scootaloo slunk back into her seat. That’s right, she thought. Diamond Tiara didn’t go yet. Scootaloo hated to admit that she was curious to see exactly which holiday Diamond Tiara had chosen. She also simultaneously dreaded it, because of the nefarious connotation that Diamond Tiara had given it earlier.

“I’m sure that YOU will appreciate it.”

Diamond Tiara stood at the front of the class, her poster facing the blackboard. She cleared her throat, ready to begin her speech. However, she was interrupted when her friend, Silver Spoon of all ponies, raised her hoof.

“Yes, Silver Spoon?” Cheerilee asked.

“May I be excused to use the restroom, please?” Silver Spoon replied in turn.

“Of course,” Cheerilee answered. “Just hurry back. You wouldn’t want to miss your friend’s presentation, would you?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” the grey earth pony said as she quickly shuffled out of the open door, the door clicking softly as it closed.

Diamond Tiara didn’t seem all too perturbed that her best friend had just left before her presentation. Rather, she simply smirked amusedly, and started presenting.

“Like Apple Bloom’s tame holiday choice before me” – Apple Bloom rolled her eyes – “my choice is one that originated many centuries ago, and involves all of the different pony races working together in a very unique fashion.” With that, she turned her poster around, revealing the title of her holiday: “Storm Ward’s Eve”. Diamond Tiara swept aside a stick of chalk from the tray beneath the blackboard, then stood on her hind legs to place her visual aid on top of it. She hadn’t been kidding about the age of the holiday. The depictions of the pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies in the pictures were definitely that of a much older era.

“I can’t say I’ve heard of this one,” Cheerilee spoke, scribbling the title below Diamond Tiara’s name on her grading sheet, whispering it as she wrote it.

“It’s a very important holiday, just not one that’s very well known,” Diamond Tiara explained, pretention seeping from her voice. “I figured I might as well present something that wasn’t an obvious choice everypony already knows.” Scootaloo heard Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom exhale sharply next to her. Although Cheerilee didn’t catch it, the Crusaders knew that those remarks were directed towards them.

“In that case, I very much look forward to hearing about it,” Cheerilee exclaimed. “Please, go on.”

“With pleasure,” Diamond Tiara grinned with an almost sinister smile, looking Scootaloo directly in the eyes as she said so. Scootaloo sneered back at her, not giving her the satisfaction of getting under her skin. Her reaction proved futile, as Diamond Tiara simply continued to smile.

“Now, we all know the pegasi as the keepers of the weather, the only pony race who can walk on the clouds unaided,” she started. “Yet, we also know that with their magic, unicorns can, to some degree, emulate their abilities.” She pointed at a hoof-drawn picture of a white unicorn with a curled purple mane, it’s horn generating a light blue beam connecting with a distorted cloud. “Yet,” she paused for dramatic effect. “How did the unicorn learn the secrets of the pegasus?”

A light teal pony with an untidy orange mane raised his hoof in the back of the classroom. “That was a rhetorical question, my dear Snips!” Diamond Tiara spoke with a sickening politeness. “Back to what I was saying, the study of pegasus magic began many hundreds of years ago, headed by none other than the brilliant unicorn, Storm Ward,” She pointed at another picture of a unicorn on her poster, bearing a brilliant blue coat, with a butter yellow swath running along the chest, and thin horizontal stripes of the same hue above each of the unicorn’s four hooves. His mane was stark white.

“As I’m sure you can all see, it’s very likely that the pegasi elite, the Wonderbolts, had their current uniform inspired directly by Storm Ward’s natural coat, and he’s currently the only non-pegasi pony to have done so. So yeah, like I said, pretty important,” Diamond Tiara announced smugly. There were several “ooohs” and “aaahs” across the classroom. Scootaloo herself was rather impressed by this tidbit, but bore a steadfast face of indifference.

“Much of what we know about inherent pegasi magic is derived from his studies. Everything from how clouds seem to bend to their will or mood to their perception of air currents to detect changes in weather. Just like how unicorn’s horns act as a conduit for their brand of magic, Storm Ward surmised that the same was true for pegasi and their wings,” Diamond Tiara explained. Scootaloo heard a rustling to her left, and saw her classmate Rumble looking at his outstretched wings, as if to try and find a sparkle or shimmer among his feathers.

“Storm Ward’s Eve might not be a very well-known holiday, but that may well be because it shares the date of our much more famous Winter Moon Festival – the 21st of December, the longest night of the year. And it was on this night that Storm Ward asked of the ancient pegasi tribes for volunteers to study their wings,” Diamond Tiara continued, until she heard her teacher’s voice behind her.

“Please pardon the interruption,” Cheerilee interrupted. “You mentioned that all of the pony races were involved. I have to know, how are the earth ponies involved in this particular holiday?” Her eyes glimmered as she asked, quite curious to see how her own race fit in the grand scheme of things.

“Oh yes, Miss Cheerilee, I’m getting to that part next,” Diamond Tiara said quickly, glancing at the clock, which now read 11:15. “As I was saying, the pegasi tribe leaders sent forth many brave volunteers. 52 brave Pegasi, one for each week, until the next year’s ceremony.”

Scootaloo winced whenever she heard the word “brave”. The only time Diamond Tiara had ever used the word to describe a pegasus of any kind as brave, it was in an attempt to mock Scootaloo for daring to present the Ponyville flag as a flightless pegasus. Something didn’t feel right…

At that moment, however, her thoughts, and Diamond Tiara’s presentation, were interrupted by the piercing cry of the school bell. It was a bell that should not have rung for another fifteen minutes to signal lunch and recess. A steady mix of confused filly voices swelled as the bell rang ceaselessly, prompting the flustered teacher to action.

“Settle down, everypony! That bell has been acting all sorts of strange the past two weeks, let me go and take care of it,” Cheerilee cried above the din, walking past Diamond Tiara and her poster towards the door, but not before Diamond Tiara stopped her.

“Miss Cheerilee, what about my presentation? Should I finish it now? I would hate to interrupt these ponies and their lunch time because of a silly delay,” Diamond Tiara did her best to sound sincere, which was good enough for her teacher.

“Ooh, alright! I’ve seen enough to know that you’ve clearly put a lot of hard work into it for your grade, but you will have to let me see the reference material later, okay?” Cheerilee conceded. Scootaloo suspected that she was being especially considerate to show up on time, knowing that any delay in the lunch schedule would leave Mayor Mare waiting on them for the field trip. She guessed that was something that Cheerilee definitely did not want on the table come the next school budget meeting.

“Of course,” Diamond Tiara nodded, watching Cheerilee gallop out of the door. She then pivoted to face the class, calling them to attention.

“Listen up, everypony,” she yelled over the bell, her high pitched voice managing to drown it out. “I’m going to do my best to finish this up, so you had best pay attention!” It was clear that without the presence of her teacher, Diamond Tiara was no longer entertaining the notion of civility towards her classmates.

“Remember what I was saying about the volunteers? The 52 brave pegasi?” she shouted.

A hoof rose in the back of the room. “That was another rhetorical question, Snips!” she snapped. “Anyways, they weren’t actually volunteers. They were chosen, chosen for a very specific reason.” Diamond Tiara glanced at the door again, turning her gaze to her classmates again.

“See, in ancient times, pegasi were the warmongers of the pony races. They were always preparing to fight and train, to outfly any other warring tribes that dared to cross them. So it makes sense that they wouldn’t volunteer their strongest and most able fliers, right?” Nothing but the constant ringing of the bell answered her.

“No, instead…” Diamond Tiara looked at the door again, face breaking into a sinister grin. She raised her hoof and beckoned towards her. The door, slightly ajar from when Cheerilee left, burst open. From her presumed restroom break, Silver Spoon had returned. Only now, she looked completely different. For starters, her mane was now purple, and much shorter and messier. Secondly, she was wearing a piece of clothing – a crimson cape, with a blue shield-shaped emblem on the side. Inside of the blue shield was a bright yellow silhouette of a caped filly rearing up on it’s hind legs. Thirdly, and lastly, was a brand new set of wings. Small, orange wings, poking through precariously placed holes in the cape. The wings were misshapen, with several feathers either missing, or the size of the feathers terribly inconsistent.

“…Instead, they chose the ones that couldn’t fly.”

The entire class roared with laughter as Silver Spoon bounded clumsily into the room, hopping up and down as though she were trying to take off. She continued her behavior, with a blush on her own face at the sheer silliness of her actions, yet devouring the attention she was getting.

“Maybe if I try, like, twice as hard!” Silver Spoon drawled mockingly, jumping up and down with a strained look on her face, revealing the shiny golden material on the opposite side of her cape. Meanwhile, Diamond Tiara carried on, struggling to keep from laughing herself.

“Even the weakest of the pegasi, despite their inability to actually, you know, fly, still has essence of magic in their wings,” Diamond Tiara explained, shouting over the din of the bell and her raucous classmates torrent of laughter, leaving a pause enough for Silver Spoon to bellow –

“Three times as hard!”

“For all of his brilliance, Storm Ward had quite the temper. If he didn’t get his required amount of sacrifices, he had control enough over the weather to overpower even the greatest of pegasi efforts and keep them in line. And if his subjects were to resist his methods of study…” she motioned for Silver Spoon, who was hunched over gripping invisible handlebars on her invisible scooter that she was pretending to ride around the front of the room. Silver Spoon stopped, and quickly skipped in front of Diamond Tiara, kneeling down before her, eyes closed in anticipation. Diamond Tiara used her forehooves, pushing the makeshift orange wings together, bracing herself. She muttered something inaudibly to her friend, whose eyes were clenched shut even tighter than before. And then –

Silver Spoon cried out as the orange wings she had glued to her back were ripped away, taking a small tuft of her grey fur with them. The entire classroom gasped. With one hoof balancing the pair of wings, Diamond Tiara’s other hoof gently massaged Silver Spoon’s back.

“…the uncooperative pegasus would become an earth pony. They would be banished from the pegasi kingdoms, left to fend for themselves with no practical earth pony skills or magic to speak of on the world below. Some would be taken in by natural earth ponies, given a chance to make themselves useful by fulfilling whatever rote work an unskilled laborer could conduct. The rest…” Diamond Tiara trailed off.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, I want you not to think about not just Princess Luna come this Winter Moon Festival, but think of those pegasi. The unfortunate stragglers of a proud race, whose tiny bit of sacrifice paved the way for understanding and adapting pegasi magic. When you see the Wonderbolts flying high above the clouds, I want you to think of those who can’t…”

She stopped to stare directly at Scootaloo, her eyes gleaming maliciously once again.

“...and never will. That concludes my presentation, thank you.”

The bell had finally stopped ringing, and the silence that followed was overwhelming. With help from Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon removed the red Cutie Mark Crusader cape and the purple manepiece she had been wearing. The two earth ponies returned to their desks, every step they made amplified against the wooden floor. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom eyes glared ceaselessly at the two until they finally took their seats, and then they both turned to look with concern to their friend Scootaloo. The rest of the class followed suit.

Scootaloo quivered in her seat, looking straight down at the desktop. Her ears burned something fierce as she felt the gazes of every filly and colt in the classroom scorching her. The desk became distorted as her large violet eyes filled with tears.

Don’t blink, she thought. Please, don’t blink.

As her eyes fluttered shut, a large drop of moisture collided with the desk. Then another. And another. Scootaloo tried as best she could to contain herself, holding her breath, gasping and choking as she shivered violently. She shuddered when she felt somepony wrap their foreleg around her neck.

“Shhh… it’s okay,” Sweetie Belle’s voice whispered into her ear. She felt another arm wrap around her from the opposite side as Sweetie Belle’s.

“Tha’s right… We’re right here for ya, sugar cube,” Apple Bloom spoke softly, adopting her sister’s term of endearment.

Scootaloo couldn’t say anything. A high pitched whine escaped her throat instead, when she felt the tip of Sweetie Belle’s hoof press against her lips.

“Shh… you don’t need to say anything,” she said reassuringly as Apple Bloom’s other free hoof stroked Scootaloo’s mane comfortingly. Scootaloo nodded jerkily, careful not to raise her head too much and expose her tear-laden face to the class.

Scootaloo had never been so embarrassed in her entire life. Never. Was that what really happened to a pegasus that couldn’t fly? If she had been born in those times, would her wings have been ripped from her back, sentencing her to live as a shell of her former self? And Silver Spoon dressing up as her, making fun of her efforts to fly for the flag-carrying ceremony… Where did they get the cape, wings, and mane? How long have they been planning this? Scootaloo had never really been too fond of Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon since they had harassed Apple Bloom at Diamond Tiara’s cuteceañera, and her dislike grew even more when the duo made fun of her inability to fly over a month ago, and continued to do so. But now? She hated them. Hated, hated, HATED. To top it off, the rest of the class just laughed at her. Like she was one big joke.

She inhaled sharply, sucking in the dribbling snot that threatened to abandon her nostrils. The stroking of her mane had stopped, and Apple Bloom’s foreleg slowly slid away. Scootaloo didn’t want her to go – being embraced by the warmth of her friends was the only thing keeping her from completely bawling.

“Come on, Scoots… Let’s go get you cleaned up,” Apple Bloom whispered.

Scootaloo was reluctant to get up. She didn’t want to have to feel the stares of her peers as she retreated out of the door, or worse yet, actually seeing them staring at her. As though Sweetie Belle could sense her concern, she addressed it.

“Keep your head down, and just follow me, okay?”

Scootaloo nodded again, sliding out of her seat towards Sweetie Belle. She heard Apple Bloom quickly shuffle to get behind her. Just like how they entered the classroom, they were leaving the same way – Scootaloo hidden between her two best friends. As they started moving towards the front of the classroom, the door shot open, with Cheerilee galloping inside.

“Ponyfeathers! I missed it! How did… the story… end?” She trailed off, noticing the piercing silence, something most unusual for her class of normally rambunctious students. She followed the stares of the classmates towards the left side of the room, and saw the only signs of life in it.

“Girls?” she inquired. “Is everything alright?”

“Miss Cheerilee, Scootaloo ain’t feelin’ too well,” Apple Bloom told her.

“Oh?” Cheerilee said with a look of concern on her face, trying to catch a glimpse of Scootaloo’s face, which was zeroed in on the floor of the classroom.

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle added. “We were just gonna take her to get some water, and get her some fresh air.”

“Poor thing… you three go right on ahead,” Cheerilee informed them sympathetically. “Did you get to do your presentation, Scootaloo? You were the last one after Diamond Tiara.”

Two “YES”s and two “NO”s met the teacher. The affirmatives issued forth by Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, and negatives from Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.

“Hold on, which is it?” Cheerilee snapped her head back and forth between the four ponies, trying to decipher the incoming wall of sound.

“She sure did! It was fantastic!”

“She did not!”

“It was stupendous! Amazin’, even!”

“She didn’t present anything!”

“I–“

The chatter stopped as Scootaloo spoke again, her voice unusually hoarse.

“Yes, Scootaloo?” Cheerilee pressed.

“I-I didn’t…” Scootaloo answered morosely, head still staring at the ground.

“Oh,” Cheerilee said simply. “Well, it’s almost lunch time, so if you like, you can just give me your visual aid, and I can grade you with that. I already know you would have done a great job presenting it, considering your narration for the flag waving ceremony. Does that sound alright?”

Scootaloo swallowed loudly before answering. “I don’t h-have it. I don’t have anything. I didn’t do anything.”

Cheerilee frowned, unable to hide her disappointment. “I’m sorry to hear that, Scootaloo.” Scootaloo only sniffed in response. “If you didn’t do any of the required work, then-”

“I know. I-I failed,” Scootaloo’s voice cracked. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both flinched when they heard the words of defeat come from their spirited best friend herself.

Their teacher’s eyes looked down, for just a moment, her expression heartbroken. As a teacher, she had to enforce a standard among her flock, and nothing was more difficult than watching one her favorite students fail. Especially after Scootaloo and her friends had claimed the honor of carrying the Ponyville flag at the Equestria games, there had to be something she could do.

“Listen… come and see me during lunch when you’re feeling better, okay? We’ll get this worked out,” Cheerilee offered, still trying to catch a glimpse of Scootaloo.

“Will do!” Apple Bloom exclaimed.

“Alright. I hope you feel better, Scootaloo,” Cheerilee said. “Everypony else, time for lunch! Be back about five minutes early, please, so I can get attendance for our trip to the town hall.”

“Thanks…” mumbled Scootaloo as the rest of the class burst to life. The trio continued forward, slipping past Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s desk when Scootaloo found herself plummeting face first to the ground.

“Mmmf!” she cried, swollen eyes watering again as she rubbed her muzzle. From the floor, she looked behind her and saw the cause of her fall – Diamond Tiara’s pink rear leg had extended itself in between Scootaloo’s legs as she walked by. Of course.

“Are you alright, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked from behind her.

Scootaloo was about to answer when she heard something else. A vicious hissing in her ear.

“A flightless, flunkout, failure of a pegasus. No wonder your parents gave you up,” Diamond Tiara’s words slithered into Scootaloo’s brain.

Her tiara sailed across the room, colliding with the wall nearest the door before settling on the floor with several bounces. Scootaloo had finally had enough.

“Shut your stupid mouth!” Scootaloo screamed at the top of her lungs after striking Diamond Tiara square in the jaw. Her classmates stopped and stared in stunned silence as Scootaloo sprang to her hooves and dove into Diamond Tiara, knocking her clear out of her desk, landing atop of her.

“I hate you! I hate you!” Scootaloo shouted, raining down blow after blow on Diamond Tiara’s stupid pink face, trying with every fiber of her being to bruise her hateful blue eyes shut. Scootaloo had her pinned, and Diamond Tiara’s feeble attempts to ward Scootaloo away were just that – feeble.

“You think you’re so much better than everypony else, you – you miserable entitled worthless – How does that feel? HOW DOES THAT FEEL?”

Every word was punctuated with the sound of Scootaloo’s hooves against Diamond Tiara’s cheeks, jaw, and temple. Tears flowed freely from both ponies, Scootaloo’s from months of pent-up rage finally being set free, Diamond Tiara’s from sheer surprise for finally being confronted.

Scootaloo had undergone a complete reversal in her mood. From feeling worthless, helpless, and embarrassed at the hooves of Diamond Tiara, she now felt powerful, supreme, and superior. She didn’t ever want to stop, until –

A blow to the back of Scootaloo’s head left her reeling, her head pushed forward colliding with Diamond Tiaras. “Get off of her!” It was Silver Spoon’s voice. The rest of the sounds in the classroom were nothing but a blur of shouting, crying, and yelling. It was a terribly chaotic mix.

“How about you get offa her!”

“Tell your spastic friend to leave her alone!”

“Why? Ya can’t say she didn’t have it comin’ after the stunt you two pulled.”

“She-she’s going to kill her! Make her stop!”

“GIRLS! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW! Sweetie Belle – let me go!”

Sweetie Belle was clinging to Cheerilee’s forelegs with a vice grip, sobbing into them. Sweetie Belle wasn’t the only one who had started to cry at the vicious onslaught playing out in front of them.

Silver Spoon wound back up, about to send another punch to the back of Scootaloo’s head, who had resumed her assault on Diamond Tiara. Apple Bloom caught her foreleg, not allowing Silver Spoon to interrupt.

“Ah don’t think so!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “You ain’t gonna lay a hoof on my friend!”

Silver Spoon turned to face Apple Bloom, lowering her foreleg. “And what about my friend? Please! You have to stop Scootaloo! Diamond Tiara is - she’s bleeding!” she pleaded, tears of her own forming behind her blue-rimmed glasses.

Apple Bloom looked down at the two, and sure enough, she saw flecks of blood catapulting through the air with each successive blow that Scootaloo landed. “Oh mah,” she gasped.

Apple Bloom reached down and slipped her forehooves underneath Scootaloo’s shoulders and pulled up, effectively stopping Scootaloo’s flailing hooves from hitting anything but the air in front of her.

“Lemme – lemme go! LET ME GO!” Scootaloo cried out in protest.

“No, no, and no! You’ve got to calm down now! It’s over, see? Ya got her back good. But ya gotta stop now, okay?”

“N-no… she doesn’t deserve it,” Scootaloo sobbed, trying in vain to lunge forward out of the grasp of her earth pony friend. Apple Bloom pulled even tighter, using her natural strength to her advantage. She felt Scootaloo’s wings beating furiously against her chest.

“Ah know she don’t, Ah know… but look at her.”

Scootaloo looked down at the mess of the pony below her. Diamond Tiara was sobbing erratically, covering her swollen, bloodied face while she curled into a protective ball. It was a pathetic, disheartening, and sickeningly beautiful sight.

“Ain’tcha think yah’ve done enough?”

Scootaloo only heard a whimper from Diamond Tiara’s figure on the floor.

“…I guess.”

Scootaloo’s buzzing wings slowed down before folding to her sides again, and she allowed her forelegs to droop down and hang freely. She suddenly felt very tired, and wanted nothing more than to collapse to the ground. Apple Bloom was still holding her up, however.

"So, can Ah let ya go? You ain’t gonna flip out again?”

“Flip...out?" Scootaloo asked hazily.

“Look around ya, Scootaloo. Ya scared a lot of ponies. Here…”

Apple Bloom withdrew her forelegs, and Scootaloo landed on all four hooves. As she did, she heard the scraping of desks behind her. She turned to see her classmates pressed against them, eyeing her warily. She looked at the front of the room, where Diamond Tiara’s poster still sat in front of the blackboard, and saw Cheerilee consoling a weeping Sweetie Belle, and several other classmates, shielding their eyes. Scootaloo turned around again, looking down at Diamond Tiara. She was curled up in a ball still, and still shaking. Scootaloo couldn’t help but notice the speckles of blood stuck in her mane, clashing vividly against her white and purple coloration. Had she really done that much damage? She lifted her front left hoof, and noticed flecks of crimson staining it. She promptly lowered it onto the ground, and gulped. What had she done?

“D-Diamond Tiara? Are you alright?” she asked, kneeling down beside the earth pony. She gave a gentle prod to Diamond Tiara’s shoulder, and was promptly met with multiple swats from the recipient.

“Get away from me, you-you PSYCHO!” Diamond Tiara choked out.

Scootaloo hastily retreated, stepping on the Cutie Mark Crusader cape from Diamond Tiara’s presentation.

“Rumble, can you fly over to Ponyville General? Tell them one of our students is injured and to send help right away,” Cheerilee said quietly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rumble replied obediently, opening the window and taking off through it.

“Everypony else, please go grab your lunches. Five minutes early, please,” Cheerilee continued with an eerily monotone voice. “Not you, Scootaloo. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Silver Spoon, I want you all to stay as well.”

“Yes ma’am.” The four voices echoed Rumble's.

“Please, you four, take a seat in the front row. I need to see to Diamond Tiara,” she commanded as four sets of hooves shuffled to their desks.

Scootaloo sat quietly, staring at her hooves resting on the desk. She glanced to her right, and witnessed Apple Bloom staring at the poster on the blackboard. Scootaloo leaned forward and saw Sweetie Belle, puffy eyes looking back at her. Scootaloo tried to offer a smile, but found it very difficult to muster one. Behind Sweetie Belle, Silver Spoon looked fervently to catch a glimpse of her best friend being tended to by their teacher.

“Alright, Diamond Tiara, can you show me your beautiful face?” Cheerilee asked soothingly, in a much more approachable voice than the robotic tone she used a minute ago.

“N-no! I look hideous, I j-just know it,” Diamond Tiara refused, burying her head deeper in her self-made cocoon.

“Come now, I’m sure it’s alright.”

“R-really?”

“I’m certain of it.”

“O-okay,” Diamond Tiara sniffed as she moved her forelegs away from her face. Cheerilee did her best to suppress a gasp, but it proved to be a futile effort.

“I knew it!” Diamond Tiara wailed, throwing her head down and raising her forelegs again. “I’m disgusting!”

“No, it’s not like that at all!” Cheerilee tried her best to reassure her. “We just need to get you cleaned up, that’s all! You’ll be looking right as rain in no time at all.”

“No, I won’t! My life is OVER!” Diamond Tiara shrieked into her chest. “That-that MONSTER turned me into a monster!”

“Why do you think she attacked you? I’ve never known her to do anything like that,” Cheerilee asked, clearly prying for information, and doing her best to remain as objective as possible in case Scootaloo was listening. Which of course, she was.

“How should I know? She started getting sick after my presentation, and then she slipped by my desk on the way out – and – and she just went berserk!”

“You’re sure there’s nothing you might have done that would have made her lose her temper? No stunts you may have pulled?”

“Of-of course not!”

The Crusaders all shook their heads, silently scoffing amongst themselves. They heard a rustling of wings, and Rumble returned through the window. “Miss Cheerilee? The pegamedics are here.” Through the door, two Pegasus ponies entered, carrying a stretcher via a harness between the two of them.

“Is this her?” The pegamedic in front asked Cheerilee.

“Yes it is. Thank you, Rumble; Run along and get some food before the field trip,” Cheerilee dismissed Rumble, who nodded his head before turning around. His eyes met Scootaloo’s for just a moment before he hastily leapt out the window to the schoolyard. Cheerilee looked back at Diamond Tiara, who was still shielding her face. “Diamond Tiara? These two gentlecolts are going to take you to the hospital, okay?”

“The h-hospital?,” Diamond Tiara whined.

“Yes. I’m going to come and visit you once the field trip is over, just to make sure you’re doing okay. Relax and just concentrate on getting better,” Cheerilee requested.

Diamond Tiara sniffed into the chest of the Pegamedic that had lifted her up, taking care to cover her face as soon as she was placed on the stretcher, “I’ll try, Miss Cheerilee.”

“Good girl,” Cheerilee said, petting the top of her mane, noticing that her trademark diamond tiara was missing. She quickly scanned the floor next to where she had collapsed and spotted it resting along the wall. “If you could wait for just a moment before taking her, please,” she beckoned the two ambulatory ponies.

“Sure thing ma’am,” the rear pegamedic nodded. “So,” he turned his attention to the filly in the stretcher, lying on her side doing her best to curl back into a ball, despite the restraints preventing her from doing so. “Your name is Diamond Tiara?”

“Yeah,” Diamond Tiara answered, muffled by her forelegs.

“I know your father,” the pegamedic informed her. “He’s a good colt. We see Mr. Rich at all sorts of charities for medical causes.”

“Really?”

“Really. We’re going to take extra special care of you, how’s that sound?”

“Th-Thank you.”

Cheeriliee tapped Diamond Tiara on her shoulder, “I’ve got your tiara right here.”

“My tiara!” Diamond Tiara exclaimed, removing her forelegs from her face for the first time since she had been wounded. She scrambled for the jeweled headpiece, almost frantically removing it from Cheerilee’s possession. It was then that the other four ponies caught a glimpse of just how badly she had been rendered by Scootaloo. Silver Spoon, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo had already seen her, of course, but for Sweetie Belle, it was the first time. Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened, taking in only a second of the view. Diamond Tiara’s eyes were barely visible from the swelling, her pink coat stretching across patches of purple skin underneath. Her muzzle had drying blood forming a broad streak to her top lips from her nostrils. From the corners of her mouth were more dark brown lines, one running across her split lower lip towards her ear from the way she had been leaning on her side while she had been curled up. Sweetie Belle turned away from the sight, burying her face in her folded forelegs on the desk, and Silver Spoon did her best to stifle a choking sound. Diamond Tiara didn’t take notice of these instances, focused primarily on recovering her adornment. As quickly as she could, Diamond Tiara affixed it atop her head, and retreated back into her shell.

“You take care, Diamond Tiara,” Cheerilee whispered as the stretcher and the three ponies accompanying it made a hasty exit through the door. The teacher walked slowly to her desk situated in front of the four fillies, not looking at them as she sat down. She bent down in her seat, rifling through a drawer, searching for something for a moment. Then, she began to speak.

“I have two main jobs as a teacher. One, obviously, is educating the fillies and colts in my charge; to teach critical thinking skills, how to apply them to various situations they may encounter once school is over. The other,” she paused, lifting a sheet of paper to the surface of her wooden desk before resuming. “The other is ensuring the safety and well-being of my students, both in school and at home. Scootaloo-” The pegasus winced as she heard her name, and refused to look up at her teacher who was no doubt studying her with her trained green eyes.

“What you did today was completely unacceptable. Everypony, and I mean everypony, regardless of who they are or what they did has the right from Celestia herself to feel safe at school. I don’t know what you think Diamond Tiara said or did, but nopony deserves to be hurt the way she was.”

“But Miss Cheerilee,” Apple Bloom interrupted. “You shoulda seen what-”

“I will not tolerate interruptions, Apple Bloom. Not now,” Cheeriliee scolded.

“But it really was horrible,” Sweetie Belle joined her friend in trying to defend Scootaloo again. “Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon–”

“Sweetie Belle, please! I intend to find out why this fight – no, not even a fight, why this – why this ATTACK happened, but I need to lay down some consequences that were evidently not made clear to you, understood?” Cheerilee asserted.

“Yes ma’am…” Sweetie Belle pouted.

“Good,” the teacher cleared her throat. “Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, neither of you are in trouble. I’m going to let that fib about Scootaloo’s presentation slide, because she told me the truth, and I know you were only doing it to help her.”

“But what about me?” piped up Silver Spoon. “Am I going to be in trouble?”

“Yes, you are, Silver Spoon,” Cheerilee answered.

Silver Spoon exclaimed dejectedly, “But why?”

“I was just going to tell you, if you’d allow me to finish. I saw you hit Scootaloo in the back of the head,” Cheerilee explained.

“B-but, I was trying to help my friend too,” Silver Spoon mirrored the rationale that her teacher had applied to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

Cheerilee shook her head. “Be that as it may, the standard I am trying to set here is a zero tolerance policy on violence. If Scootaloo got in trouble for hitting Diamond Tiara, how would it look to the other classmates if you got away scot-free after bludgeoning her?”

“I’m sure they would understand! They saw what that savage was doing to Diamond Tiara, I was just trying to help her,” Silver Spoon shouted angrily.

“I know you’re upset at Scootaloo, and I can’t say I blame you,” Cheerilee spoke in a calm voice, one that she had clearly had to use before when dealing with feuding students. “But two wrongs don’t make a right, and we don’t hit. Ever. I would also appreciate if you didn’t call anypony names, and to keep your voice down. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Silver Spoon said morosely.

“That goes for you three as well,” Cheerilee added. “I want everypony to address each other respectfully like mature ponies.”

Apple Bloom snorted audibly.

“Is there something funny about that, Apple Bloom?” Cheerilee inquired.

“You wanna talk about respect, Miss Cheerilee? I think it’s high time you finally let us explain what happened – what’s been happenin’ for that matter,” Apple Bloom replied.

“Been happening?” Cheerilee tilted her head, and Silver Spoon squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Sweetie Belle told her.

“Well then, let’s get started,” Cheerilee announced, dipping her quill in the same bottle of red ink she had used to grade their presentations not twenty minutes ago.

Trouble

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The Cutie Mark Crusaders, namely Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, as Scootaloo remained silent, finally told their teacher of the suffering they endured at the hooves of their classmates. From the taunting for lacking their Cutie Marks, to the turning of Apple Bloom’s cousin against them, they covered it. From the humiliation about the Apple Family customs, to the threats of humiliation at the fillies’ stint on the Foal Free Press, they covered that too. Then, the more recent, and much more antagonistic attempts to dissuade Scootaloo enough to concede from the Flag Carrying trials were finally put to be put on the table.

Cheerilee had been all but silent, doing naught but quickly scribbling the accounts on her papers (the initial sheet proved to be insufficient). Here however, she interrupted Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom’s frantic portrayal of the events.

“You can’t fly?” She asked Scootaloo with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Scootaloo, whom had been listening the entire time, her stare glued to the desk she was sitting in (focused mainly on a blot of ink that had wandered astray from the paper and dried atop the wooden surface). Without looking up, she sighed deeply and offered her equally subtle answer.

“No. I can’t.”

Cheerilee’s cheeks grew red, having expected something a bit more engaging and open ended than that. Scootaloo only seemed to sink lower into her seat, just as quiet as before.

“I didn’t mean to offend- I just – you always seemed so – I guess I never…. I’m sorry.” Cheerilee sputtered.

“That’s just the thing Miss Cheerilee,” Sweetie Belle explained. “Scootaloo’s real sensitive about not being able to fly yet. When Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon told her that it would be shameful for her to represent the Pegasi of Ponyville if she couldn’t fly, she took it really hard.”

“Hey!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “I’m right here, you know!”

“We know you’re here, but how are we supposed to tell her what’s been happenin’ if we avoid talkin’ bout’ cha?” Apple Bloom asked her.

“I-I don’t know. It’s just weird hearing other ponies talking about me, that’s all,” Scootaloo answered. Truthfully, she hated listening to this story. She didn’t like the way she acted, and it was embarrassing listening to the account.

“If you don’t like hearing your friends talking about you,” Cheerilee said quietly. “Why don’t you tell us the parts about you yourself?”

“Now there’s an idea!” Sweetie Belle cried excitedly.

“I really don’t think I should – I’ve been told I’m awful at storytelling,” Scootaloo replied with reluctance.

“It’s not like that bizarre campfire story you told,” Apple Bloom reminded her. “It ain’t about storytelling at all, matter of fact – it’s about telling the truth.”

“Well, I guess I can try…” Scootaloo sighed once more, going back to the beginning of that day that she had relived many times on her own, yet had never narrated. Here goes nothing… she thought.

“That routine that you saw, the one we won with, that’s the one we had come up with at first,” she explained. “After we showed it to Rainbow Dash, she seemed really… unenthusiastic about the whole thing.”

“She was just being professional,” Sweetie Belle interrupted her. “She told us that she loved our routine from the get-go, but she couldn’t express favoritism so early. She told us on the way to the Crystal Empire.” She added to Scootaloo’s quizzical expression.

“Right,” Scootaloo nodded. “Anyways, after we finished performing for her, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon came over, congratulating us for being so – so brave. Brave for having a Pegasus that can’t fly represent them for Ponyville.” She felt Apple Bloom’s hoof on her right shoulder.

“Keep goin’,” she told her encouragingly.

“And I – I saw Rainbow Dash watching other Pegasus routines, watching ones younger than me flying around and doing tricks and loops, and I just – I just became convinced that the only – THE ONLY – way to do my race proud was to fly,” Scootaloo continued, her sentences becoming less and less fluid as she carried on. “I became obsessed, I had this idea that everypony in the crowd would be watching for me to do anything except take off. I-I forced us to change the routine, one to showcase me flying. I kept on going all day, and poor Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle… They worked so hard, and I just – I just couldn’t do it.”

“They went home to get some rest, and I stayed on that stage all night trying so hard to just finally take off, and nothing happened,” Scootaloo’s voice cracked. “I gave up. I met the girls at the train station, and told them I couldn’t represent Ponyville, and that I wasn’t going to go to the Crystal Empire.”

Apple Bloom rubbed her hoof a bit harder than normal on Scootaloo’s shoulder, before pushing off of it. “This is mah part next,” she started. “Just so y’all know, Ah ain’t proud of it neither.”

Cheerilee had stopped writing, and hearing Apple Bloom’s much more stable and steady drawl, she was reminded that she was supposed to be documenting what they were telling her. Hastily, she scribbled down an account of Scootaloo’s story, just in time for her to capture Apple Bloom’s details.

“Ah should have encouraged her to come with us, and to try at least, but Ah… Ah told her that the Cutie Mark Crusaders didn’t need no quitters. If she was gonna give up, then I wasn’t going to try and stop her,” Apple Bloom admitted.

“We were both still pretty upset about the new routine,” Sweetie Belle tried to explain. “Neither of us were in a really clear state of mind, because I… I agreed with her.”

“Thank you kindly, Sweetie Belle, but you don’t need to offer excuses on mah behalf. I shouldn’ta been so hasty to give up on mah friend, plain and simple,” Apple Bloom said humbly.

Sweetie Belle used this opportunity to pick up the mantle, and resume their story.

“While we were on the train by ourselves, Rainbow Dash found us, and she told us how much she loved our routine and hoped we would win. When she found out what Scootaloo, and what we, did, she stopped the train so that we could get off and convince Scootaloo to change her mind.”

“And as we were getting off the train,” Sweetie Belle continued, her tone of voice changing from a soft and sweet one to one bearing naught but annoyance. “We heard Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon laughing at us, telling us how they would see us from the winner’s circle.”

“Is that so?” Cheerilee inquired, writing on another sheet of paper without looking at it, instead looking at Silver Spoon, who had taken Scootaloo’s position in sitting in her desk looking straight down.

“Mhm,” Sweetie Belle nodded. “Thankfully, we were able to get Scootaloo to come to her senses and we made it back in time for the trials. Which, we won,” she added nonchalantly.

“Yes, yes, you did, it was quite good,” Cheerilee agreed quickly, glancing at the clock. There was only fifteen minutes left for recess. “I hate to sound like I’m rushing you girls, but what happened today that led up to the fight?” Perhaps she wasn’t expecting such an extensive history of teasing and general soreness between her students, but time had certainly flown.

“Right, right,” Apple Bloom said. “Well, when we got to class today, Diamond Tiara told us that her presentation would be one that Scootaloo would appreciate, or somethin’ like that. Everythin’ was goin’ fine up until her presentation.”

“Her presentation seemed acceptable to me,” Cheerilee rationalized. “Granted, it was an unusual holiday, but it seemed plenty exciting. She was quite adept at delivering it too.”

“Well, she got even adepter once you left!” Sweetie Belle cried. “As soon as you walked out the door, she became loud, rude, and angry.”

“She basically stopped actin’,” Apple Bloom added.

“Girls... focus, please. What happened next?” Cheerilee asked again, her eyes meeting the clock face again.

“She started going about how only the weak or disabled fliers were chosen for that Storm Ward’s studies, and then… Silver Spoon came back in,” Sweetie Belle continued.

“She came in dressed as Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom revealed. “Hoppin’ around, makin’ fun of Scootaloo tryin’ to fly.”

“Hold on a second,” interrupted Cheerilee. “Dressed as Scootaloo? Are you sure you girls aren’t just skewing things a bit? That seems like a bit of a stretch.”

“They aren’t,” Silver Spoon finally spoke. It was a quiet, trembling voice. She looked up at Cheerilee, her eyes wide and baleful. “I came in after the bell went off with the costume on.”

“So then… the bell? Was that you?” Cheerilee asked incredulously.

Silver Spoon nodded. “We had it planned so that you wouldn’t be in the room for the last part of the presentation. We’ve been testing the bell over the last two weeks to make sure it would work.”

Cheerilee grew red in the face, not at all pleased that she had been played by her students. “That explains that, then. May I see this costume?” She demanded, hasty to change the subject.

Silver Spoon wordlessly opened her left saddle bag, and using her mouth pulled out a messy purple manepiece. She placed it on the desk, where it was made clear that the style was the same short, tomboyish cut that Scootaloo wore. Scootaloo ran her hoof across her own mane, wondering exactly how they managed to replicate it.

Silver Spoon rummaged around in her pack some more, looking for additional components. She stopped, and pointed back towards the desks she and Diamond Tiara had been sitting in earlier. “The cape is over there. Diamond Tiara brought that in.” Scootaloo recalled stepping on it shortly after the fight, and again wondered where the two had acquired it.

“I see,” Cheerilee said flatly, coldly glancing away from a stung looking Silver Spoon. “Girls, what happened next?”

“Diamond Tiara continued with her presentation, talking about how the weak Pegasi would have their wings studied,” Sweetie Belle explained. “But then, she said that the uncooperative ones that didn’t want to be one of Storm Ward’s subjects would – they would-”

There was an almost inaudible sound that emanated from Silver Spoon’s desk, the very light crinkling of makeshift wings being placed gently on the wooden surface. Cheerilee’s eyes wandered to them, slowly connecting the dots from what she heard of the presentation thus far to the detached and mangled wings before her. At the base of them, there were small tufts of grey fur from Silver Spoon’s coat from where they had been ripped.

“That’s when we started to leave,” Apple Bloom said. “Unfortunately, Scootaloo fell by Diamond Tiara’s desk, and that’s when she sorta lost it.”

“I didn’t fall!” Scootaloo interrupted adamantly. “She tripped me.”

“Oh?” Cheerilee queried. She seemed more inclined to believing Scootaloo’s accusation after everything else she heard thus far, but still had to make sure that what she was hearing was true. “How do you know that?”

“She stuck her leg as I was walking past – I saw it when I was getting back up. And then she said…”

“What’d Diamond Tiara say to you, Scootaloo?” Cheerilee asked softly. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle’s ears both flicked - they evidently were curious as well.

“She said… she said that I was… a failure. A flightless, flunkout, failure of a Pegasus,” Scootaloo choked.

“Oh my… she said that to you?” Cheerilee expressed sympathetically. “She didn’t say anything else like that, did she?”

…No wonder your parents gave you up...

“...No. That was it.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle glanced at each other. Neither of them heard Diamond Tiara say that, but something bothered the both of them about the manner Scootaloo answered.

Suddenly, the door to the classroom opened. The students had returned from recess, five minutes early, just as their teacher requested. The first student, a pale blue Pegasus stared wide eyed at the scene before her.

“Cotton Cloudy,” Cheerilee addressed the filly. “Could you please close the door, and make sure no other students come in? I just need two more minutes.”

“Y-Yes, Miss Cheerilee!” the filly obeyed, pulling the door closed as she returned to the hall.

“Alright girls, I’m going to make this quick,” Cheerilee said. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what happened today. Scootaloo, you are suspended from school for the next two weeks. I am sure I don’t need to explain why.”

Scootaloo shook her head curtly. “No, ma’am.”

“Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, I will be giving you Scootaloo’s schoolwork to deliver back and forth to her and me.”

“Yes ma’am,” they chorused.

“Silver Spoon, you are being suspended for one week,” Cheerilee finished.

“One week? But I only hit her once!” Silver Spoon protested.

“…Which would normally be a two day suspension, according to school policy,” Cheerilee conceded. “However, in addition to that, yours and Diamond Tiara’s behavior today was also completely unacceptable. Remember when I said that students in my care are to feel safe when they come to school?”

Silver Spoon merely grumbled in the affirmative.

“Not only does that apply to fighting and hitting, but it also goes for bullying and harassment as well,” Cheerilee explained matter-of-factly.

“But, I’m not – we’re not-” Silver Spoon sputtered.

“Now that that’s clear, Scootaloo and Silver Spoon, both of you are dismissed immediately. Field trips are a privilege, not a right. With what transpired today, neither of you have earned it.”

Scootaloo nodded solemnly, and Silver Spoon did so indignantly.

Silver Spoon lifted herself from her desk, leaving the evidence on it. As she hastily trotted to the door with a frown on her face, Apple Bloom raised her hoof in the air, vying for her teacher’s attention. “Yes, Apple Bloom?”

“Miss Cheerilee, do Ah have to go on the field trip?”

“What do you mean?” Cheerilee inquired.

“Well, Ah think Ah’d rather go with Scootaloo and make sure she’s alright,” Apple Bloom stated.

Scootaloo coughed again. “Right here, Apple Bloom…”

“Ah know. You can take over whenever you like,” Apple Bloom acknowledged.

Scootaloo sighed, steeling herself once more. “Miss Cheerilee, would it be alright if Apple Bloom accompanied me back home?”

“And me! And me!”

“…and Sweetie Belle too?”

Cheerilee looked sternly at the three, who were staring back at her with the biggest pleading eyes they could muster. And then, she smiled.

“Of course they can. On one condition,” she added.

“Anything!”

“Name it!”

Cheerilee folded the sheets of paper she had been writing on neatly in half, placing them face down on the desk to prevent them from opening up again. She opened the top drawer of her desk and withdrew a large beige envelope. Carefully, she inserted the sheets of paper into the (considerably stuffed) envelope and sealed it shut by running her tongue across the adhesive lining the opening before pressing them it closed.

“I want you to deliver this to the Princess when you are finished. I would do it myself if not for the field trip,” she requested.

“Princess Celestia?” Sweetie Belle asked, looking confused as to how the three fillies were supposed to deliver it all the way to Canterlot before the school day was out.

“No, Sweetie Belle,” Cheerilee laughed. “To Princess Twilight, right here in Ponyville. She’s taken a very keen interest in how things are run at school, and she will no doubt wish to see this report.”

“Of course. You can count on us!” Apple Bloom cried.

Cheerilee rose from her desk, and began to walk towards the door of the classroom, behind which a bountiful supply of laughter and chatter could be heard from the students congregated outside. “I hope so, Apple Bloom. I’m going to check with Princess Twilight later, and if I found out she didn’t get it, you three will be in quite a bit of trouble.”

“We’ll see to it that she gets it,” Apple Bloom reassured her.

“Good,” Cheerilee stated. “Oh, and Scootaloo?”

“Yes ma’am?” Scootaloo answered with trepidation.

"I want to see you after school on Monday, where you will be presenting your Equestrian holiday for me. Take the sign-up sheet with you on the way out,” Cheerilee told her, ripping the aforementioned sheet from the door, placing her hoof on the handle preparing to open it.

“You mean that you’re still going to let me do the make-up?” Scootaloo asked her in disbelief. “Even after – even after what I did?”

“I told you that I would, didn’t I?” Cheerilee held the sheet in her outstretched hoof.

Scootaloo trotted up to her teacher, and grappled the piece of paper with her hoof. She looked at it, noticing a red smudge where she had initially held it before making adjustments. Now she really needed to clean herself up, instead of just needing an excuse to leave the classroom.

“Thanks, Miss Cheerilee. I won’t let you down,” Scootaloo promised.

“I figured as much, Scootaloo,” Cheerilee answered, her voice lined with the trademark patience and understanding she always used again. It was a far cry from the angry and disappointed tonality from earlier. “It’s my job to teach to a standard, but I have to understand that mistakes will happen, and to adjust accordingly. I couldn’t teach acceptance to my students if I didn’t practice it myself, could I?”

“I uhh… I guess not,” Scootaloo replied, not entirely sure why her teacher said that the way she did.

“Alright girls, run along now,” Cheerilee said, opening the door to an audible wall of chatting ponies. “I’ll see you on Monday, Scootaloo, and don’t forget that letter, girls!”

“We won’t!” Apple Bloom shouted over the cacophony as the trio stepped into the hall, which was made unnecessary as every sound stopped the instant they were visible to their classmates. Scootaloo looked at the myriad expressions of her classmates. Some of them were scared. Others just raised their eyebrow at her, as though they didn’t recognize her. Others simply snickered under their breath as they passed. Scootaloo lowered her head, following Apple Bloom’s bobbing red tail in front of her while avoiding the looks she knew she was being given.

Apple Bloom’s tail turned to the right, and Scootaloo followed. She heard the door creak open, and inhaled the powdery scent she recognized as that of the restroom. She noticed the dried patches of red (now dark brown) on her front hooves as she had been trotting behind her friend, and remembered why they had come here. Scootaloo knew she had to clean herself, as walking around out of school with somepony else’s blood on her was almost certain to draw negative attention to herself, but at the same time… She knew she was wrong for even thinking it, but she didn’t want to get rid of the proof that she had finally bested Diamond Tiara and shut her up.

Scootaloo shook her head, chastising herself silently while she stepped up to the sink. She reached across to the handles, turning on both the hot and cold water in the hopes of creating a pleasantly warm mix. The cold was more powerful it seemed, as Scootaloo began to rub her hooves together under the faucet’s stream. The dark brown joined with the clear liquid, spiraling down towards the drain, and then out of sight. Of course, as Scootaloo used her hooves to scrape her fur, more of that shade continued to tint the sink, spinning around the displacing impact of the water before vanishing once more.

The sound of rushing water splashing against the porcelain interior of the sink was all that could be heard, and Scootaloo was unsettled by it. She could understand the silent treatment from her peers, but she didn’t understand why her friends weren’t saying anything. Scootaloo looked up for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, and saw three ponies in the mirror. Firstly, she saw herself, eyes swollen, and a bruise on her forehead. Behind her, she witnessed Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and intensity. Her hooves stopped rubbing together as she held a staring contest with the two, one that wouldn’t end even when they blinked.

"What?” Scootaloo broke the silence at long last.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both exchanged looks, and then looked back at their friend. They walked towards her, growing larger in the reflection of the mirror. “Just making sure you’re alright.” Sweetie Belle told her.

“I’m doing fine,” Scootaloo scoffed. “Just washing myself up, there’s nothing weird about that, is there?”

“No, there isn’t,” Sweetie Belle answered simply.

“So why are you looking at like I’m so… weird?” Scootaloo asked, at a loss for a better word to describe their expressions.

Apple Bloom trotted alongside Scootaloo, dipping her hoof into the now warm stream of water pouring from the sink. Scootaloo was very much taken aback when she felt Apple Bloom’s sopping hoof rub her cheek under her left eye, and she hastily pulled away.

“Hey! What gives?”

“Ah think, and correct me if Ah’m wrong, Sweetie Belle, that we’re both wondering about how you got like this,” Apple Bloom surmised, dousing her hoof under the water, giving the clear liquid yet another reddish brown strand.

Scootaloo watched the tinted water roll down the sink, and looked at her reflection in the mirror, the fur on her muzzle matted from her friend’s informal cleansing. She just rolled her eyes.

“Apple Bloom, you were there, you saw what happened,” Scootaloo stated bluntly. “So were you, Sweetie Belle, so I don’t know what either of you are talking about.”

Sweetie Belle frowned, and glanced at Apple Bloom again. Scootaloo, her fuse considerably shorter than it had been earlier that day, took notice.

“Stop doing that!” She shouted, making Sweetie Belle wince.

“Stop doin’ what?” Apple Bloom asked confusedly.

Scootaloo turned the water off, which was now significantly hotter than it was two minutes ago. “You two keep – you keep looking at each other when you’re around me. Those tiny glances back and forth – and don’t even deny it, because it’s true!” She accused before Apple Bloom’s open mouth could issue an utterance. “It’s like you both are trying to say something to each other, but you won’t because I’m the same room as you. Well, go ahead! Say whatever you have to say - believe me, it feels so good to finally let it off your chest,” she added with a smirk.

She didn’t have any response but the dripping of water into the sink. Her little chest heaved in and out, her bout of frustration released. Both of her friends had stepped back, alarmed by her outburst. Sweetie Belle looked hurt, her large green eyes welling up again. Apple Bloom’s jaw was slack.

“So that’s it,” Scootaloo said solemnly. “Should I leave so you two can discuss whatever it is that you need to discuss?”

“It wouldn’t make a bit of difference, Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle cried, her raised voice surprisingly forceful. “We’re your best friends, we would never talk about you behind your back.”

“Really,” Scootaloo said sarcastically. “We all wrote for the Foal Free Press, Sweetie Belle, so I already know how practiced you can be when it comes to betraying somepony’s trust. Or did Rarity’s diary pages end up inked by accident?”

“That- that’s not fair! How could you even – I – I…” Sweetie Belle stammered, the spark behind her words quickly faltering as her best friend tore at her. Apple Bloom, on the other hand, looked more determined than ever.

“Listen here, Scootaloo,” she warned. “Diamond Tiara mighta deserved a bit of what she had comin’, but Sweetie Belle ain’t done nothin’ but try and help you. Matter of fact, we both have. Ah know you’re probably still a bit heated because of what happened today, but that ain’t no excuse for talking to your friend that way,” Apple Bloom chastised.

“Well at least I’m being honest!” Scootaloo protested. “Something that you ought to know how to do pretty well, considering your sister.”

“And so are we, Scootaloo! We wouldn’t never talk about ‘cha behind your back,” Apple Bloom assured her, unaware of her speech pattern crafting an unintentional double negative.

“So why do you two keep doing that staring thing around me?” Scootaloo yelled, her voice echoing around the small room. Neither of her friends spoke. “Well?” Scootaloo demanded again.

“It’s because we’re scared!” Sweetie Belle cried, her voice quaking. “It’s because we’re scared because we see how sad and scared you are and how different you’ve become, and we look at each other because we don’t know what to say!”

Scootaloo looked taken aback, while Apple Bloom looked relieved that Sweetie Belle had indeed managed to capture what they were both thinking and relay it to Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle had a way with describing feelings that would present difficulty to most.

“…We just look, because we don’t know what else we can do,” Sweetie Belle whimpered.

“Huh,” Scootaloo muttered, looking in Sweetie Belle’s direction, but taking precaution to avoid making eye contact with her.

“That’s all you got to say is ‘huh’?” Apple Bloom asked bewildered.

Scootaloo scowled at Apple Bloom, wondering why in the world she seemed so offended. “What? Look, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the concern, because trust me, I do,” she started, making eye contact with Sweetie Belle at last, who grinned ever so slightly at having her care acknowledged. “But, I haven’t changed at all,” she said plainly. “And I’m certainly not scared. I’m still the same old Scootaloo I was when you met me”

“No you ain’t!” Apple Bloom shouted. “Ever since the flag wavin’ thing, you’ve been actin’ like… like Ah don’t even know. It’s like you’re constantly on edge, defensive, actin’ real surly to everypony.”

Scootaloo’s mouth opened in disbelief, as though she couldn’t believe the words Apple Bloom was telling her. “What are you talking about? Surly? Other than that Diamond Tiara, I think I’ve been pretty-”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Apple Bloom interrupted. “Me and Sweetie Belle have been met with a whole lotta sharp remarks when we try and get you to do – well, anythin’ with us!”

Scootaloo groaned, rolling her eyes once again. “Are you still going on about that stupid construction project?”

“Just like that! It wasn’t stupid! It was the first ever shed that Ah ever made without help from Applejack or Big Mac. It was really, really important to me,” Apple Bloom replied accusingly.

“Whatever – we can just make another one, I’ll help you out-”

“Ah can’t believe you! It ain’t about the shed!”

“Well, we’ll make a chicken coop or something else then, I don’t know!”

“Clearly,” Apple Bloom grunted.

Sweetie Belle cleared her throat, causing the muzzles of her two feuding friends to break from the inches apart they were, and turn to face the unicorn.

“I think what Apple Bloom is trying to say, and correct me if I’m wrong, is that it’s getting harder for us to keep interested in what’s really important to you when you don’t seem interested in what’s important to us.”

"Couldn’ta said better myself, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom agreed.

Scootaloo’s eyes felt as if they were going to fall out of their sockets at the rate they were rolling. “OKAY! Fine, yeah, I missed Apple Bloom’s shed-raising, and maybe, just maybe, I’ve been a bit hot-headed. I’ve just been really busy with learning to fly and stuff, and I just forgot about it.”

"It ain’t just about me, neither. You forgot about Sweetie Belle too, remember?” Apple Bloom reminded her.

“What? No I didn’t… Did I?” Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle pleadingly, hoping that she would clear her of time-turned-debt in her standings.

“Well…” Sweetie Belle began sadly, watching Scootaloo frown as her reaction was clearly not what Scootaloo wanted to hear. “Remember the school play?”

Scootaloo scratched her head, puzzled. “Which one?”

“The Representative’s Day re-enactment. It was only a few weeks ago.” Sweetie Belle informed her.

“Yeah, we watched it together, remember?” Scootaloo reminded her. “Of course, Diamond Tiara got the lead,” she noted mockingly. “But…. What about it, exactly?”

“There were tryouts for it,” Sweetie Belle started. “After winning the flag waving competition together, I thought I could muster up a nice performance and land in the lead.”

Scootaloo cocked her head sideways, like Winona did when she didn’t understand a command or phrase. “I didn’t know you were trying out for it.”

“I told both of you.”

“Oh… I uhh… I don’t remember that.”

“Anyways,” Sweetie Belle continued, seemingly not fazed by Scootaloo’s faulty memory. “When I got up on stage… I did terrible. I was so nervous, I forgot almost all of my lines. And when I remembered them, my throat was so dry I couldn’t even speak them. Miss Cheerilee thought I was joking around.”

Scootaloo looked genuinely surprised. Sweetie Belle had always boasted a formidable presence whenever they performed together, be it in a talent show or on a rock singing around the campfire. “After all the times we’ve done stuff in front of other ponies, and after the flag waving trials, I’m honestly surprised. I’m uh… sorry that it didn’t work out. Even Daniel Neigh-Lewis has his bad days,” she offered to try and cheer her friend up. Given the rather heavy emotions that had been heaving back and forth all day, Sweetie Belle saw straight through it.

“I don’t think it’s funny. Really, I was scared and embarrassed when I was up there looking like an idiot in front of everypony. How you felt today in the classroom? That’s what it was like for me,” Sweetie Belle finished, taking Scootaloo’s advice about getting things off her chest to heart. It was surprisingly straightforward and harsh to hear it like so.

Scootaloo’s eye contact with Sweetie Belle had been short-lived. Once again, she found her eyes glued to the wooden floor. She didn’t want to see if Sweetie Belle was angry, sad, or disappointed. She couldn’t bear it.

“Only for me, I didn’t have a friend to take my shoulder and tell me it was going to be alright. I didn’t hear anypony cheering for me in the audience. It was just me,” Sweetie Belle scolded.

Scootaloo derived enough that clearly, Sweetie Belle wanted an explanation. She couldn’t even remember the tryouts, much less what she was doing instead on that day. So instead –

“But – what about Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo asked lamely, realizing only afterwards that asking a question like that was simply proving her friends’ point even further.

“She was gone with Big Mac, for apple contest prospecting or something like that,” Sweetie Belle explained. “But I know that if she hadn’t, Apple Bloom would have been in the front row cheering me on,” she added accusingly.

The trio just stood there for what seemed like an hour. Scootaloo wracked her brain, trying desperately to remember what she was doing on those days, but to little avail – the past month had simply blended together. Scootaloo prodded the ground, focusing her efforts instead on trying to formulate an acceptable apology.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured simply, knocking her friends out of the vacuum of quiet. They both looked expectantly at her, but both had a look showing a markedly better mood than the one that had they had had moments (that felt like hours) ago. Scootaloo looked back at them, unblinking. She wasn’t good with her feelings – that was always Sweetie’s niche – so she didn’t know if the expression she wore was one that matched her words and her current state of being.

“I’ve just been so, so busy – and I know that’s not a good excuse, but-but-” she sputtered, eager to keep the awkward silence at bay. “I’m sorry, I really am! I would never do anything to make you girls feel bad or whatever, you know? You’re my best friends, and I-I shoulda tried harder to show it! I will!” She finished, running short of breath at how quickly she had spat it out.

Apple Bloom blinked, beating Scootaloo to the punch. “That look like it hurt, Scootaloo,” she teased. “But, we know what you mean,” she added, her mild smirk turning into a large grin. “We forgive ya. Right, Sweetie?” Sweetie Belle nodded, mirroring her expression, it faltering only slightly.

“That’s two times in one day you’ve apologized for acting out to us,” Sweetie Belle said thoughtfully. “I don’t think we could take a third,” she half-joked.

“Yeah… sorry about that,” Scootaloo repeated, rubbing her forehoof along the back of her neck.

“Don’t you go sayin’ that again. I’m with Sweetie Belle – I’m plum sick and tired of listenin’ to you apologize for the day,” Apple Bloom chided jokingly.

“Oh! Sor- I mean-” Scootaloo started, interrupting herself before she uttered yet another apology. “Heh, whoops,” she giggled.

Sweetie Belle followed suit, giggling softly into her white hoof. Apple Bloom joined afterwards, a small amused laugh, one laced with relief at yet another tense situation defused. The girls all slowly ceased, and looked at each other in their triangle formation with relaxed grins adorning their faces.

“So,” Sweetie Belle started. “Are you about ready to go?”

Scootaloo looked at her forehooves, ensuring they were clean and free of any stains. Satisfied, she answered “Yeah, I think so. Do I look okay?”

Apple Bloom drew closer to Scootaloo’s face, examining it for anything that they could fix before leaving. “Ya got that bruise on yer forehead, but other than that, ya look alright to me,” she said.

Rubbing her hoof against the tender blotch on her temple, Scootaloo nodded her head. “That’s not a big deal. You should see Rainbow Dash after trying some of her tricks. This is nothing,” She boasted toughly.

With swiftness that surprised both Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle lurched forward towards her pegasus friend. As quickly as she could muster, and before Scootaloo could react to prevent it, Sweetie gently pressed her hoof against the purple blemish above Scootaloo’s face.

“Hey!” Scootaloo yelped while skipping backwards, her purple tail brushing against the sink. “What’d you do that for?”

“Nothing, huh?” Sweetie Belle teased. “You’re not quite as tough as Rainbow Dash yet.”

“Not yet, but I will be!” Scootaloo stated boldly. “I’ll be just as awesome and tough as she is one day!”

“In the meantime,” Apple Bloom interrupted, “Why don’t we focus on you first? We can go deliver this message to the princess, and then start working on your project while we’re at the library,” she suggested, jerking her muzzle towards the saddlebag on her flank, indicating the rather thick envelope detailing the exploits between the Crusaders and Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, as well as the sign up sheet she had slipped in while Scootaloo was washing.

Scootaloo sighed deeply, seemingly not excited at the prospect of starting the weekend with school work, but relented. “Sounds like a plan,” she said, moving towards the door of the restroom. Her two friends followed in her wake.

Preludes & Interludes

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The noontime sun warmed the air outside of the school while the cool breeze carried the distinctive autumnal scent with it, which was a refreshing change from the increasingly stuffy schoolhouse the Crusaders had emerged from. The door slowly closed behind them, revealing the empty hallway vacated by their classmates that had already left for the City Hall. Scootaloo was grateful, for she didn’t want to deal with their snickering and stares again. As was becoming a habit for her, she found her head pointed downward again. She sighed loudly, which was followed by a gasp when she saw-

“My scooter!” Scootaloo cried. Her vehicle lay pushed on to its side, the left handle of the handlebar deeply embedded into the dirt. Her purple and white striped helmet was a couple of feet away, upside down and filled with dirt and leaves. Scootaloo galloped to her scooter, while Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle dashed to pick up and clean out her helmet.

“Ah can’t believe that somepony would do this,” Apple Bloom grimaced, dirtying her hoof as she scraped and swept the padding inside in an effort to clean all of the dirt out. Sweetie Belle marched towards Scootaloo, who was struggling to pull the scooter free from the ground by the right side of the handlebars that wasn’t seemingly hammered into the ground. Scootaloo’s wings buzzed rapidly, trying to generate enough force to lift Scootaloo and her scooter up.

“Nnngh! Stupid wings!” She shouted as she released the handlebars, and like a slingshot, she catapulted backwards into Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo opened her eyes, and promptly shut them again as she found herself gazing straight into the sun. She exhaled deeply and uttered a defeated “whatever.” She then noticed that her head was not lying on the cool grass, but was resting instead on Sweetie Belle’s stomach, rising and falling jarringly as the Unicorn breathed erratically. Scootaloo bolted upwards, and immediately turned to face a pained Sweetie Belle lying on her back.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” She apologized, immediately extending a hoof to help her friend up. “I just, you know, got kinda frustrated. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Sweetie Belle groaned in a manner that proved quite contrary to what she said. “Just knocked the wind out of me, that’s all.” She wrapped her foreleg around Scootaloo’s, and lifted herself off the ground, coughing as she did so.

“What did we tell ya about apologizin’?” Apple Bloom interjected as she approached the two ponies and the scooter, Scootaloo’s helmet sitting awkwardly on her head, her large pink bow keeping it from fully enveloping her cranium. “We appreciate the concern an’ all, but trust me – a little tumble like that ain’t squat compared to some of our other stunts, remember?”

Scootaloo scratched at the back of her neck nervously. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “But it’s just, after what we talked about and went through back there, I realized that you two are like, my only friends, and I don’t want to-”

“Don’t want to what?” Apple Bloom interrupted again. “Hurt our feelings?”

“…something like that, yeah,” Scootaloo admitted.

"I don’t know, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle said cheerfully, wiping grass out of her mane. “I kinda like this newer, sensitive Scootaloo.”

“I am NOT sensitive!” Scootaloo blurted out crossly.

“You know what, Sweetie Belle? Ah think yer right. She is actin’ awfully sweet.” Apple Bloom replied in the same cheerful manner.

“I’m not sweet either! I’m cool,” Scootaloo said stoutly.

“Who says that you can’t be all three?” Sweetie Belle pondered. “Like Raaainbow Dash?”

“Hey! Rainbow Dash is nothing BUT cool!” Scootaloo retorted.

“She seemed pretty sweet an’ sensitive to ya on that campin’ trip, from what you told us,” Apple Bloom reminded her.

Scootaloo’s face was the same color as Apple Bloom’s hidden bow. “That was… that wasn’t sweet or sensitive. That was being awesome. There’s a difference,” she stated factually.

“Well, it makes no difference to us,” Sweetie Belle responded. “We know you’ve got a softer side, even if you don’t want to admit it. After all, you were just as excited to help with setting up Big Mac and Miss Cheerilee on a date last year as we were, remember? Or being the flower fillies at the wedding in Canterlot?”

Scootaloo merely grumbled something about “being supportive,” her face now matching Apple Bloom’s mane in color.

“Speakin’ of bein’ supportive, how about we help you get your scooter out, so we can get this to Twilight?” Apple Bloom suggested, already taking up a position by the apparatus.

“Oh no – I’ve got it, Apple Bloom! It’s my scooter, after all and-” Scootaloo resisted, eagerly cantering towards the farm pony, who was already sizing up the capsized vehicle.

“Nonsense,” Apple Bloom insisted. “Pullin’ things outta the ground is an Earth pony specialty.” Rather than pulling at the handlebars like Scootaloo had done, she instead pushed her forelegs against the board of the scooter, currently on its’ side, and offered a hefty shove. With a tearing sound, the buried handlebar tore through the grass and dirt as the scooter jolted upright, sending bits of black and green earth catapulting to the sky. Apple Bloom quickly leapt back before her momentum carried her face first into the ground, and Scootaloo grabbed her scooter to keep it from falling again.

“Wow,” Scootaloo marveled, looking down at the rip in the ground, and how seemingly effortlessly it had appeared on behalf of Apple Bloom’s endeavor. “How’d you do that?” She inquired.

“Leverage,” Apple Bloom answered plainly, removing the helmet from her head, her bow springing upward, revealing clumps of brown dirt atop her head. She turned the helmet over, peering into it, the slight lean causing a trickle of silt to fall back into the apparatus. This elicited a giggle from the farm pony, no stranger to dirt herself. “Oops,” she chuckled. “Ah didn’t clean it as well as Ah thought. Let me just get this out.”

“That’s alright,” Scootaloo waved her hoof dismissively, stretching her foreleg out underneath the helmet strap in Apple Bloom’s grasp. Turning the headgear upside down, she shook it rapidly to get whatever excess dirt she could out before placing it snugly over her messy purple mane, which judging from the granules she felt against her forehead, just got messier. “We’re used to getting dirty, right?” More than anything, she just wanted to get away from the schoolhouse.

Sweetie Belle shuffled up to Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, frantically scrabbling at the dirt that had showered onto their faces. “Girls!” She squeaked. “We’re going to see a princess! We have to look our best!” Scootaloo gulped. She had almost forgotten where it was they were going to, and who they were going to go see. Twilight Sparkle – PRINCESS Twilight Sparkle. She didn’t relish the thought, and it showed on her face.

“Don’t you worry none, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom offered, scraping away the last of the earth on her forehead. “She probably won’t be happy about what you did to Diamond Tiara, but Ah’m sure that she’ll understand once she reads Cheerilee’s letter and sees it from your perspective.”

Scootaloo sighed, mounting her scooter dejectedly. “I hope you’re right, Apple Bloom.” She thought of all the things that Princess Twilight would do to her as punishment. Images flashed through her head of all sorts of horrible things… what if she let Diamond Tiara get back at her? She saw herself tied to a chair, Diamond Tiara striking at her face and laughing maniacally, Princess Twilight and Spike enjoying the show with a bucket of popcorn. Scootaloo supposed that wouldn’t be too bad – it would be a good chance to prove she was made of tough stuff to Rainbow Dash if she could make it without crying or breaking down. That silver lining soon vanished when she imagined herself banished from Ponyville at Twilight’s royal decree, forbidden to ever set hoof in the township again. That wouldn’t be so bad either, she decided. It’s not like she wasn’t used to-

“You ready to go there, Scoots?” Sweetie Belle asked behind her. The duo had tied the wagon to the scooter while she’d been contemplating her fate, and were both patiently sitting in it waiting for Scootaloo to start moving them.

“What?” Scootaloo blurted, her head jerking behind her. “Oh – right. To the library.” Her wings unfurled slowly, twitched, and then buzzed to life. She turned the vehicle to the town center, and slowly accelerated forward. Her unusually easy pace didn’t go unnoticed.

“You sure you’re alright, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom queried. “Yer goin’ awfully slow.”

The Crusaders coasted alongside the Elm Tree Eatery, the delicious odor of hay fries and toasted sandwiches wafting in Scootaloo’s nostrils. She conveniently remembered that neither she nor her friends had eaten lunch yet. “I’m just hungry, is all,” she remarked. “Can’t go full throttle on an empty stomach, you know?” Scootaloo laughed falsely. Though she didn’t see it, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle turned to face each other in another wordless exchange.

“Still worried about what Princess Twilight’s gonna think?” Sweetie Belle concluded.

“…A little,” Scootaloo conceded.

“Well, don’t be! Believe it or not, Princess Twilight really likes us,” Sweetie Belle exclaimed with her signature cheeriness.

“She does? Why?” Scootaloo asked confusedly, taking her eyes of the road for a second to look back at her friends.

“Well, for one, she’s really proud of our routine for the Equestria Games,” Sweetie Belle stated. “She told us she couldn’t think of a better way to have Ponyville introduced.”

“She said that? Really?” Scootaloo called back in disbelief.

“Yeah!” Apple Bloom answered this time. “She said that even if Ponyville didn’t win a single event, we could at least walk away with havin’ the best flag wavin’ routine.”

“Nu-uh,” Scootaloo shook her head, grinning all the same.

“Yup!” Apple Bloom countered. “It’s all true, ev’ry word.”

Scootaloo’s grin faltered. “Well… of course she’d say that. She doesn’t want us to make her or her town look bad.”

Sweetie Belle cleared her throat. “Reason two, she admires how we try all sorts of different things. She even said that she’d be willing to help us learn new skills if we wanted to,” she continued, ignoring Scootaloo’s projections.

“That sounds nice, I guess.” Scootaloo said with reluctance.

“Of course, we ain’t gonna do that without ya, Scootaloo, and we told her so,” Apple Bloom chimed in. “What if one of us got our cutie mark, and you weren’t there? That’d be just terrible!”

Through the marketplace now. Did the autumn air always make apples so fragrant? “Why would you say that to her? She probably thinks I’m just holding you two back now,” Scootaloo groaned.

“Because it’s the truth,” Apple Bloom answered with the plaintive quality that only the Apple family could. “Twilight actually asked about ya a lot during our school work. She says she’s barely seen ya since the coronation. Just a bit curious, is all.”

Scootaloo remained silent. She knew what the girls were hinting at, and she didn’t want to tell them. Scootaloo had never even audibly admitted to herself why she avoided the newly crowned Princess Twilight, because she knew how selfish it would sound to hear her voice utter the reason. Just like when one of their classmates earned their cutie mark, Scootaloo felt the same painful sting that seemed to strike at her very core when it occurred. Her pace increased as her heart rate climbed. Seeing the city hall fast approaching, she made a quick turn to avoid it, and the possible glimpse of one of her classmates again. The trio found themselves speeding past several newsstands, most of the advertising seemingly geared towards fashions and the like – stuff Rarity would be into.

“Hey, nice riding today, kid!” Shouted a pale brown colt with a beret standing beside a newspaper stand as Scootaloo and her friends rode past him. Scootaloo offered a quick nod in his direction before turning left towards Golden Oaks library.

“What was that about?” Sweetie Belle asked quizzically, looking behind her at the colt who had resumed his work, shouting about events no doubt detailed in the newspaper he was selling, the Ponyville Times.

“Oh that-” Scootaloo laughed nonchalantly. “I did a pretty cool trick on my scooter this morning before I picked you up, Sweetie Belle. A really neat tailspin. He gave me applause and everything,” she added hastily, pulling up and back on the handlebars as her wings halted. The Crusaders slowly rolled to a stop in front of their destination, The Golden Oaks library.

Scootaloo removed her helmet, using her hoof to wipe away the dirt that had nestled itself in her violet mane, while Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle exchanged another glance. The duo stumbled out of the wagon as Scootaloo leaned her transport against the smooth bark of the tree with unusual fixation to the angle at which it stood. The two stared at her for almost thirty seconds before Sweetie Belle spoke.

“I don’t think it’s going anywhere, Scootaloo.” The Pegasus winced when she heard Sweetie Belle address her by name.

“I-I know. I’m just uhhh… checking for damage,” Scootaloo stammered. “You girls go on inside, I’ll meet you in just a minute.”

“Everything seemed fine on the trip over,” Apple Bloom raised her eyebrow suspiciously.

Scootaloo laughed nervously. “Well, you never know. Things can fall apart when you least expect it!” She suddenly found her front hooves pushing into the ground as she slid forward, both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom using their heads as bulldozers, pushing her forwards towards the door. “W-wait! I’m not ready yet!”

“We’re going to go in, and you’re gonna like it!” Apple Bloom exclaimed.

“How could I possibly enjoy being banished from Ponyville?” Scootaloo shouted frantically, her hooves scrambling to push back and failing miserably.

“She ain’t gonna banish nopony, now stop…being…so…orn…orden…ornd…” Apple Bloom enunciated, each word being met with a forceful headbutt to Scootaloo’s back.

“Ornery?” Sweetie Belle suggested, opening the door to the library, a gentle tinkle from the bell sounding as she did so.

“That’s it!” Apple Bloom cried, offering a final push that lifted Scootaloo into the air towards the open door.

“What are you,” Scootaloo asked as she sailed past Sweetie Belle, her hooves flailing about. “A dictionary?”

Sweetie Belle beamed proudly, and she and Apple Bloom trotted inside after her.

On A Good Day

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Scootaloo rubbed her jaw tenderly as she lay on the floor of the library, an impressive distance from the door she had been forcibly thrown through by the surprisingly powerful headbutts from Apple Bloom. She lifted herself slowly to all four hooves, noticing how smooth the wooden floor was – no doubt the handiwork of Spike, Princess Twilight’s number one assistant, whom just happened to be a dragon.

“Ah didn’t hit you too hard, did Ah?” Apple Bloom asked as she sauntered up behind Scootaloo, patting her on the back as the door quietly shut behind her and Sweetie Belle.

“N-No,” Scootaloo cleared her throat, jaw still smarting from when she hit the floor. “I’m oka-”

“SPIKE!” Erupted a shout from upstairs, the voice of Princess Twilight Sparkle herself. “How many times have I told you NOT to stack books like a house of cards?” She inquired.

“Oops!” Sweetie Belle whispered, a wide, embarrassed grin on her face. “She must have thought you hitting the floor was Spike roughhousing again.” She inhaled deeply, her head raised to announce their presence when Spike’s head appeared from behind a desk. From the groggy look in his eyes, and the confusion on his face, Twilight and the Crusaders interrupted one of his many afternoon naps. Sweetie Belle ceased her announcement, opting to giggle at the bleary eyed dragon instead. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom followed suit, as quietly as possible. Spike returned with a mock angry glare, before smiling himself.

“Tha- thaaa” Spike yawned loudly. “That wasn’t me, Twilight; the Crusaders are here again!” He called upstairs, eliciting a shuffling of hooves and flapping of wings from the cracked door above.

“Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are here again? But it’s still during school hours, and there’s a field trip-” came a muffled self-diagnosis from behind the door, which came to a halt when it finally opened. Princess Twilight’s look of confusion quickly changed to one of excitement when she saw her visitors, which finally included-

“-Scootaloo!” She exclaimed, gliding down the stairs. Scootaloo’s newly acquired reflex kicked in, and she stared at the aforementioned smooth and shiny floor. Simply being addressed with such enthusiasm made Scootaloo very uncomfortable, and her deflated posture couldn’t have made it more obvious.

“Is something the matter?” Twilight asked with concern, noticing now the purple shiner on Scootaloo’s forehead. “Scootaloo? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Scootaloo’s mouth had gone completely dry. She simply stared at the floor in front of her, Twilight’s shadow falling into her line of sight. First her horn, her head, her neck, and next, flared out from her small flight downstairs, her wings. The same piercing ache that had stung her before found its mark again in Scootaloo’s chest, so much so that it made her wince. The voice that she lost found itself once more, just enough to sputter an incoherent whine.

“Girls?” Twilight turned to the other Crusaders behind the orange Pegasus, her eyes quickly darting back and forth between them, desperately trying to read their faces for an answer. Sweetie Belle, sympathetic as ever, started to tear up at the sight of her zestfully strong-willed friend behaving in such a small and frightened manner. Apple Bloom did her best to look stoic, but glimmers of unease were making themselves more and more apparent. Twilight addressed them again, more firmly. “Girls, what’s going on here?” Spike peered from above the desk at the four ponies in front of him, frowning as he too tried to work out the events that lead to the normally boisterous trio suddenly falling silent.

“There- there was sort of a um… a fight at school today,” Apple Bloom finally spoke up. She had hoped that Twilight discovering the cause of the conundrum would calm things down, but it didn’t. Far from it.

A fight, Scootaloo thought. There wasn’t a fight, it was just me beating up another filly. Miss Cheerilee is right, it was an attack. How can I even try to justify it?

“A fight!?” Twilight exclaimed, frantically examining the orange filly. Scootaloo was still looking down, and was now shaking violently. “Who did this to her?” The princess demanded.

“There’s this filly at school, Diamond Tiara,” Sweetie Belle answered. “She and her friend have been bullying us for a while now, especially Scootaloo…”

I wouldn’t even call it bullying. They were just telling the truth. I AM flightless, I AM a flunkout, and I AM a failure of a Pegasus.

“Bullying? Oh, Sweetie, you should know that you need to tell an adult if someone is picking on you or somepony else! So this Diamond Tiara beat up Scootaloo?”

I deserve to have my wings ripped from my back…

“Well, not exactly.”

I don’t deserve to be called a Pegasus…

“Not exactly?”

…

“Scootaloo kind of… beat her up.”

It’s no wonder my parents gave me up.

Scootaloo burst into tears, wailing in such a way that none of the others in the room had ever heard from her before. Tears streamed down her face, the ones that could. The Pegasus’ eyes were clasped shut so tightly that the salty excretion that couldn’t escape stung her eyes, causing her to cry even harder. Scootaloo began to choke again, just like in the classroom. She could feel mucus from her nostrils sliding down towards her lips. Without warning, she collapsed to the ground, her face buried in her forelegs, stifling her sobs, but ultimately doing little to muffle her powerful, uncontrollable cries.

Twilight, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle all bore faces of shock and fear. This explosion caught all of them off-guard. Twilight, prepared to scold Scootaloo for her misbehavior, suddenly found herself utterly unprepared and without a plan of action. What was she supposed to do to calm down the hysterical Pegasus filly? As rarely as Twilight had actually spoken to Scootaloo, the only thing she actually knew about her was from what Rainbow Dash had told her less than a week ago during their flight training. Then she remembered.

Twilight unfurled her left wing, and slowly cantered beside the bedraggled filly still violently jerking on the ground, her young voice growing hoarse. As gently as she could muster, she stretched her purple feathered appendage across the filly’s back, wrapping it around Scootaloo as best she could. She knelt beside Scootaloo, and gently whispered into her twitching ear. “It’s okay.”

It seemed to work. Scootaloo’s shrieks abruptly ceased, morphing into a few sporadic sniffles. Behind them, Apple Bloom and a tearful Sweetie Belle offered a sigh of relief. Scootaloo, for the first time since Princess Twilight had made herself known in the library raised her head. She turned to her left, her mane shifting some of the feathers from Twilight’s wing, and tickling her nostrils. All the room was silent, save for Scootaloo’s heavy breathing returning to normal.

And then something happened that Twilight didn’t expect. Scootaloo started to quiver again. “It’s alright,” Twilight offered again. “Go ahead and let it out, I’m right here for you.”

And then, something happened again.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Scootaloo screamed. The Pegasus sprang up from her feathered blanket, rolling away from it with a look of absolute disgust in her eyes as she glared at the bewildered Alicorn before her.

“Scootaloo, calm down!” Sweetie Belle coaxed through her own shaking voice.

“NO!” Scootaloo spat. “She doesn’t get to do that!” She told Sweetie Belle as if it was just so, as if it were the most obvious of unspoken rules. Her eyes flashed angrily again at Twilight, the princess looking like Fluttershy under a spotlight. “Just-Just because you have wings! You don’t – you can’t…” Scootaloo stammered angrily, her tongue apparently vexed as it tried to formulate every ultimatum it could at once.

“YOU’LL NEVER BE LIKE HER!” Scootaloo expelled at long last.

“W-Wait,” Twilight stammered, quickly folding her wings to her sides, wishing she could make them disappear for a moment. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you, I just wanted to help-”

“Of course you did!” Scootaloo snarled, not caring that she was addressing royalty with an incredible amount of disrespect. “Princess Twilight, she’s so special! She’s so nice!” Scootaloo’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “She’s the best friend anypony could ask for, the best unicorn in the history of Equestria, and now she can – she can fly like a Wonderbolt!” Scootaloo faltered on her last line, tearing up once more, and started to back up into the open doorway leading to the kitchen. “Why don’t you – why- why don’t you let others have a chance?” With that, Scootaloo scrambled on her hooves, scrabbling rapidly against the floor, and she disappeared into the kitchen away from the main room of the library, leaving Twilight, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Spike in petrified silence.

“What just happened?” Sweetie Belle squeaked, her green eyes shimmering. “What’s gotten into her? What happened to our Scootaloo?”

Apple Bloom reached her hoof around Sweetie Belle’s shoulders, pulling her tear-dampened Unicorn friend closer to her. “Ah wish Ah knew, Sweetie Belle. Ah wish Ah knew…”

Twilight stood up, her legs shaking slightly. The two fillies looked up at the Alicorn sorrowfully, and offered their condolences.

“Ah’m so, so sorry, Princess Twilight. It’s been a really rough time for Scoots lately, ‘specially today. She didn’t mean it,” Apple Bloom excused.

“Yeah,” sniffed Sweetie Belle. “She snapped at us today too, and we’re her best friends!”

Twilight nodded her head at the duo. “I understand, girls. While I don’t know Scootaloo as well you two, I know you wouldn’t call her your best friend if she behaved like that all of the time.”

“Mhm,” the Crusaders mumbled together.

“So I guess… while we’re on the topic, what happened today?” Princess Twilight inquired.

“It’s all in here,” Apple Bloom answered, pulling the envelope from her saddlebag. “But the short story is, Scootaloo was humiliated today because she couldn’t fly, and she attacked the pony that made fun of her.”

“Couldn’t fly…” echoed Twilight. She stretched her wings, examining them while she pieced together the puzzle inside her head. “Of course,” she said sadly. “It’s no wonder she hasn’t been around to see me recently.”

“What do you mean?” Sweetie Belle piped up, the envelope levitating through the air in a fuchsia aura, sailing past Twilight’s glowing horn and onto the desk that Spike was currently hiding under.

“Think about it,” Twilight explained. “She’s a young Pegasus who can’t fly, wanting more than anything to be just like her idol who is arguably the best flier in Equestria. I was a Unicorn by birth, and then I got these wings and can already fly after only a few weeks of having them, being personally trained BY arguably the best flier in Equestria.”

“So… she’s jealous of you?” Apple Bloom guessed.

“I think so. Scootaloo doesn’t think I deserve to be able to fly while she can’t. She probably doesn’t think it’s fair… and I can’t say I disagree with her,” Twilight frowned.

“She told us… she told us she wasn’t ready!” Sweetie Belle choked. “We should have listened to her!”

“Yer probably right, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom nodded unhappily. “But that’s no excuse for her speakin' to a princess like that!” Twilight shook her head and audibly objected.

“Please, Apple Bloom… It’s not a big deal. Everypony loses their temper sometimes, and they say things they don’t mean to. I’ve done it before, and I’m certain that both of you have too,” Twilight admonished. “It’s like you said, she’s had a rough time lately.”

Apple Bloom blushed deeply. “Oh… well, I just meant… But why did she get so upset when you tried to comfort her?”

Twilight inhaled deeply. “I think it was because… that’s what Rainbow Dash did for her.”

The two Crusaders stared at the princess, then at each other, then back to the princess.

“Come again?” Apple Bloom queried.

“Did Scootaloo ever tell you about what happened to her on that trip to Winsome Falls?” Twilight inquired.

“Yes!” Sweetie Belle chirped. “Scootaloo went for a nighttime scooter ride, slipped and fell in a river, and then Rainbow Dash swooped in and saved her. And then, they agreed to become sisters!”

“Something like that.” Twilight cracked a smile. “I don’t know much about Scootaloo, but I know that above all else, she worships Rainbow Dash. She wants so much to be like her more than anything, wouldn’t you say?” Twilight encouraged.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both emitted a lighthearted chuckle and nodded their heads in agreement, their minds swimming with the often humorous instances where Scootaloo would compare herself to the rainbow colored Pegasus.

“I think when I wrapped my wing around her, I surmise that she thought I was trying to replace or become Rainbow Dash. That’s her dream, right – to basically become Rainbow Dash?” Twilight hypothesized to the raptured nodding from the two Crusaders. “So?”

“Sooo…” Apple Bloom started. “She thought you were tryin’ to take her dream from her?”

Sweetie Belle gave a loud gasp. “So THAT’S what she meant when she told you to let others have a chance!”

Twilight nodded solemnly. “Exactly. I stole her wings, stole her idol, and now I’m stealing her dream. It’s no wonder she wanted to avoid me. I’m taking everything that matters to her.” Twilight felt pangs of guilt stabbing her. Logically, she knew that Scootaloo was being unreasonable, but it didn’t help the awful feelings washing over her.

“But…” Apple Bloom pondered aloud. “Why does she think you took Rainbow Dash from her? She’s been busy these past two weeks getting flight lessons from her.”

Twilight raised her eyebrow at the farm filly. “What?”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom continued. “She wasn’t able to work on this school project-” Apple Bloom withdrew the Holidays of Equestria sign-up sheet from her saddlebag, and laid it on the floor in front of the princess. “-because she was so busy learnin’ to fly.”

Twilight used her magic to lift the roster in front of her. Next to Scootaloo’s name was a blank space. She hadn’t even picked a holiday to present. Twilight wasn’t about to tell her friends, but Scootaloo had been lying to them both about what had been happening. Rainbow Dash hadn’t been giving Scootaloo flight lessons, because Rainbow Dash had been giving HER flight lessons. On top of that, Rainbow Dash had remarked that she hadn’t seen “Squirt” in a while, leading to their discussion of the camping trip and of Scootaloo in general.

Hiding behind that sign-up sheet, Twilight quickly decided that if Scootaloo wanted to keep her activities a secret, she wasn’t going to betray her. It would just be another reason for the filly to loath the princess even more. One thing that Princess Celestia had told her was that it was important to at least be on speaking terms with your subjects, and already Twilight was failing that. As it were, it wasn’t her place to speak about Scootaloo’s business anyways.

“…so, we were wondering if maybe we could do some more research with your Holidays: Past & Present book and help Scootaloo out with her project?” Sweetie Belle finished, Twilight was too absorbed in her thoughts to hear how Sweetie’s dialogue had even started. She lowered the paper, and saw four of the biggest, pleading eyes she had ever seen. Twilight, however, had another idea.

“Actually, girls… if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to personally help Scootaloo out on this project, alone.” Twilight announced.

“What?” the Crusaders chorused.

“Just because I’m a princess doesn’t mean I’m above helping out a student with some schoolwork, does it?” Twilight asked brightly.

“Well… you helped us,” Apple Bloom observed, head cocked to the side.

“I guess not…” Sweetie Belle conceded.

“But, alone?” Apple Bloom questioned. “Without us?”

“We can’t leave a fellow Crusader behind!” Sweetie Belle added.

“Mainly, I’d really like to also take this chance to make it up to her…” Twilight admitted. “You know, the whole dream trampling thing.”

“Oh!” A light went off in their heads. “I guess that makes sense,” Sweetie Belle agreed, the reluctance all too apparent in her voice.

Twilight nodded curtly, using her magic to place the sheet on the desk next to the unopened envelope. “You girls go on home. You’ve been working non-stop on these for the last two weeks, and I think it’s high time you both took a break,” she suggested.

Sweetie Belle’s eyes shifted towards the open doorway to the kitchen. “Are you sure? What if she needs our help?”

“From what you’ve told me, and from what I’ve heard from Rainbow, she’ll be just fine – she’s got spirit.” Twilight answered. “And surely you didn’t want to spend another weekend cooped up in a library again?”

“Well, no… but if it meant helpin’ Scootaloo, we’d be glad to do it,” Apple Bloom replied sincerely.

Twilight looked proudly at the two fillies before her. She had always admired their sense of camaraderie, and this just further solidified it. “Scootaloo is lucky to have you two,” she whispered, flicking her ears at the sounds of Scootaloo’s distant sobs from the kitchen. “I’ll do my best to help her with her project, and... I’ll see about talking with her for the other things.”

Sweetie Belle charged Twilight, wrapping her forelegs around Twilight’s shoulders, embracing the Alicorn in a soft hug. “Thank you!” Twilight’s cheeks warmed up, and she could tell from the smirk on Spike’s face that she was blushing. Sweetie Belle slipped away, her wide smile shrinking as she looked Twilight in the eyes. “Just making sure… You aren’t going to banish Scootaloo from Ponyville, right?”

Everyone in the room giggled quietly, and Twilight answered. “Of course not, Sweetie Belle.”

Apple Bloom prodded Sweetie Belle on the shoulder, the white Unicorn turning to face her with a questioning look on her face. “Should we tell her that we’re leavin’? I don’t want her to think that we’ve abandoned her…” Apple Bloom asked in a low voice.

This time, it was Twilight who put her hoof on another ponies shoulder. “I’ll tell her. I’ll make sure that she knows you two fought tooth and hoof to stay here to help,” she assured the farm pony, her hoof sliding to the floor.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle exchanged a glance with one another, a communication method they had both grown to understand quite well in the past month. Most of the time, it was a way to wordlessly express how uneasy or nervous they felt. But this occasion was markedly different, and they both knew it.

“Thank you so much, Princess Twilight,” Apple Bloom told her, Sweetie Belle nodding her head in agreement. “It’s no wonder you’re a princess-”

“-Please,” Twilight interrupted. “It-it’s nothing to do with being a princess. It’s the least I can do…” The Alicorn, now deemed royalty, was being thoroughly embarrassed by a couple of school age fillies. Sensing her discomfort, both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom quickly turned and walked towards the door. Apple Bloom pressed the door open, cringing as the bell rang. Sweetie Belle however, had turned around again.

The Unicorn drew an invisible circle on the floor, her well maintained hoof only barely touching the wooden surface that shone brightly in the sun soaked rays from the open door. “Can we – can we ask you a favor, Princess Twilight?” She asked timidly.

Twilight recovered from her abashed posture, and looked at Sweetie with a stifled laugh, who appeared shocked at her own audacity to ask a princess for a personal request. “Of course you may.” She answered calmly.

“Can you help us to… to get our friend back?”

The princess adored the sheer simplicity of the request, so much so that she answered instantly. “I promise I’ll do everything that I can to help her.”

For the second time since they entered the library, the two wingless Crusaders exchanged a split second stare with each other. The markedly different occasion from before was not so markedly different now. It wasn’t unease, discomfort, or nervousness that was portrayed through their gazes – it was relief.

“Thank you,” was all that Sweetie Belle said to her before following an infectiously smiling Apple Bloom out the door, the door quietly shutting on its own behind them.

Twilight took a deep breath, facing the doorway to the kitchen that had now grown silent in the absence of Scootaloo’s crying.

Time to make good on that promise, Twilight thought.

“Scootaloo?” She called out, cautiously walking towards the opening. Twilight stopped just shy of it and waited with bated breath for a reply. “Scootaloo?” She tried again, trying her best to be as calm and inviting with her tone as possible. “Do you want talk about what happened? I’m not upset – I promise.”

Twilight perked her ears again. Still nothing.

“I just want to talk, and make sure you’re alright,” she whispered. Twilight didn’t wish to risk upsetting Scootaloo if she didn’t want to speak with her just yet, but her natural inquisitiveness still wanted to get to the root of the problem, to discover what had happened today. Then she remembered the letter that Apple Bloom had brought.

With a flash, Twilight teleported to the desk where Spike was sitting, who wasn’t fazed by the now common mode of transportation that took place within the library. The dragon was resting his head in his claws propped upon the desk, a frown adorning his countenance.

“Poor kid,” he said, voice muffled as his bottom jaw pressed against his palms holding him up. “It’s really nice of you to help her, Twilight.”

The envelope floated in the air, the purple aura from Twilight’s horn neatly tearing it open from the top crease. “It’s the least I can do, Spike,” she said absentmindedly, removing the mass of folded papers from their manila cocoon. Before she unfolded the forms, her eyes widened as
an idea formulated within her head.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you maybe…”

“You want me to make sure she’s alright?”

“…If you wouldn’t mind.”

“She’s not gonna… you know, right?”

“You don’t have wings, Spike. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Spike leapt from his chair, his legs slowly making their way to the kitchen.

“And Spike?” The mare’s voice came from behind him.

“Can you make her something to eat? Something sweet,” Twilight requested.

“Something sweet, huh?” Spike chuckled. “Always cheers me up too.”

As the dragon exited the main chamber of the library, Twilight arranged the numerous papers before her on the desk, and began to read.

Incident Report dated: November 27, 10C14

Incident Type: Assault, Altercation between two or more pupils.

The student, Scootaloo, was witnessed viciously and willfully attacking another classmate, Diamond Tiara. Diamond Tiara suffered many injuries to her face, requiring immediate removal from the school house and treatment in the hospital.

Twilight’s eyes immediately widened. “Hospitalization?” she murmured worriedly before resuming her perusal.

Additionally, another student, Silver Spoon, a friend of Diamond Tiara’s, was witnessed striking Scootaloo in an effort to break up the fight. Scootaloo did not appear to sustain substantial injury.

The following action will be taken: Due to the severity of the offense, Scootaloo is to be suspended from school grounds for a minimum of two weeks unless exception is granted by the undersigned or a higher authority. Silver Spoon is to be suspended for a minimum of two days, with the same circumstances. An inquiry will be made to discover the cause of the incident, and the findings will be annotated in the remarks column on the following page.

The point(s) of contact for this incident report are as followed.

Primary: Cheerilee (Dep. Of Ed, Ponyville Elementary School)

Secondary: None

Twilight bit her lip, and hastily placed the second sheet on top of the other, and noticed that the sheet was almost entirely filled with red ink letters. Her eyes made her way to the top of the page, and she continued.

Incident Report dated: November 27, 10C14

Remarks:
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle have divulged a pattern of bullying and harassing behavior stemming from Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. The first instance noted from the two stems from their lack of cutie marks. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have repeatedly teased the Cutie Mark Crusaders (A club in which Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom are members) by referring to them as “blank flanks” in a manner that is meant to be degrading.

Apple Bloom has expressed that her family customs and occupation has also been the subject of ridicule. She has noted that last year’s Family Appreciation Day was a particularly painful experience for her. The Zap Apple Jam harvesting procedure was a sore subject, thanks to the costumes involved. Additionally, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon repeatedly speak with derogatory tones about Sweet Apple Acres
and the Apple Family, referring to them as “hick”, “filthy cowpokes”, among other insults.

During their short tenure under Diamond Tiara at the Foal Free Press newspaper, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were blackmailed under threat of photographical humiliation to continue writing slanderous articles. This incident has been dealt with already (see IR filed under March 31, 10C12) but is included for anecdotal reasons.

During a summer visit, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon convinced Apple Bloom’s cousin to engage in bullying behavior against the Cutie Mark Crusaders, including denying access to their tree house, and forcing Apple Bloom from her own bed to sleep in. While Babs Seed is not one of my students, Apple Bloom is convinced that she would not have done so if not for the suggestion and manipulation from Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon.

(next page)

During the process of rehearsal and selection for the prestigious honor of carrying the flag for the Equestria Games, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon repeatedly harassed Scootaloo for her inability to fly, to the point where Scootaloo was affected enough to drop out of the event altogether. Scootaloo returned and helped the Crusaders to win, but the following month until today’s incident has been very difficult for her. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were described as “relentless” in their teasing of Scootaloo’s current inability to fly.

Today, Diamond Tiara presented a holiday celebrating a figurehead on the study of Pegasi magic. During her presentation, Silver Spoon admitted to leaving the classroom to tamper with the school bell to lure myself out of the classroom. During my absence, Silver Spoon had dressed as Scootaloo, and mockingly imitated her attempts to fly. For her presentation, Diamond Tiara used Silver Spoon’s imitation of Scootaloo as an example to showcase ancient and barbaric customs for study of Pegasi magic by ripping the makeshift wings off of her back, in what is regarded as an attempt to further make fun of her inability to fly by implying that she might as well not have wings. Scootaloo was severely distraught, and upon leaving the classroom to gather her thoughts, was reportedly tripped and taunted by Diamond Tiara. At this point, Scootaloo lost her temper and began the altercation as detailed on the first page.

-Cheerilee

End Remarks

Twilight read over the last couple of sentences again, struggling to absorb what it was saying. The fact that two fillies roughly the same age as Scootaloo would work so hard to craft such an elaborate method of humiliation astonished her. Twilight shook her head sadly and lifted the last page before her. Unlike the previous pages, this one was a simple piece of stationary, and not a report. From the header, it was addressed directly to her.

Dear Princess Twilight,

I’m certain you are just as unsettled as I am by this chain of events that occurred today. While I am not by any means advocating or condoning Scootaloo’s behavior, I can certainly see how the culmination of events led to the reaction it did. For as long as there have been young mares and colts that were different, there has inevitably been teasing about those differences. While learning to deal with light-hearted jokes about yourself is an invaluable asset, there is a fine line between comical and cruel that I fear is being crossed too often. With your permission, I would like to take an afternoon from normal curriculum to speak to the class about bullying and the effects it can have on classroom cohesion
and a young pony’s self-esteem.

With respect,

Cheerilee.

Twilight wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to approve of Cheerilee’s suggestion. Her mouth opened as she prepared to ask Spike to write a letter for her, when she remembered that Spike was busy tending to a very distraught orange filly in the room next to her. From the smell of it, Spike had crafted some chocolate chip cookies, using a recipe he no doubt borrowed from Pinkie Pie. Though Twilight was not very hungry herself, it smelled positively tantalizing, and the mere thought of tasting it was enough to put a smile on her face. As Twilight’s hooves crossed the threshold into the kitchen, she hoped that Scootaloo would be in good enough spirits to speak to her. At this point, she hoped that Scootaloo would even look at her. She had a promise to keep, after all.

Here goes nothing, she thought.

Won't Be Broken

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Twilight’s sense of smell was buffeted by the aroma of Spike’s baked goods, the scent even stronger in the kitchen where she now stood. Spike was quietly using the time while the oven finished heating his cookies to wash the dishes he had used. Twilight smiled, for more than once, she had needed to either remind him to do so, or to simply clean it up herself. Twilight didn’t mind – she herself was a dreadful cook, and she sometimes became so involved with her studies that she would forget to eat if Spike hadn’t used the kitchen to fashion scents and flavors to remind her.

Her eyes scanned around said kitchen, looking for Scootaloo, but to little avail. She wasn’t next to Spike, helping him to dry the dishes. She wasn’t sitting at the table, eagerly awaiting the results of Spike’s session. She also wasn’t sitting in the corner, wearing whatever angry or frightened expression Twilight expected her to wear. The only entrance to the room was the one behind Twilight – had she been so absorbed in the letter that Scootaloo had left?

“Spike?” She asked the dragon, who was too occupied scrubbing the creases between the handle and head of spatula to look behind him and acknowledge her. “Is she still here?”

Spike’s claw pointed to the right, flecks of suds dripping to the floor as he pointed to the aforementioned table. “Yup,” he said shortly.

Twilight looked again at the table, seeing no trace of anypony on it or in the chairs that lined three of its four sides. Remembering that she was looking for a pony shorter than herself, she knelt down. Tangled within the labyrinthine mess of table and chair legs, she saw a small, orange figure close to the wall that the table stood against. Scootaloo’s purple tail wrapped itself around her impeccably still body, her head facing the wall and resting upon her forelegs. Twilight couldn’t help but think of times when Winona would sleep beneath the family table while the Apple family enjoyed a meal together.

“Scootaloo?” Twilight addressed the young Pegasus, gaining naught but a flinch at the sound of her name for a reply. Evidently, Scootaloo still didn’t want to speak with her. Twilight turned her head to look at Spike while still kneeling. “Has she said anything?” She whispered to the dragon, who had stopped washing the dishes to see how Scootaloo would react. Spike shook his head.

“No. She hasn’t moved or made a sound since I’ve been in here,” he told her. “I thought I’d get something when I announced I’d be making some cookies, but… nope. Nothing.” He looked slightly disappointed that the same treats the other Crusaders had cheered for at the very notion of elicited no reaction from Scootaloo.

“I don’t know that she’s ever had your cookies before, Spike,” Twilight said louder, certainly loud enough for Scootaloo to hear. “I’m sure if she had, she’d be over the moon about-”

“Can you cut that out?” Requested a shaky voice from beneath the table. Twilight immediately turned to look at the source again, and saw that Scootaloo hadn’t moved. “I don’t like when other ponies talk about me like I don’t exist when I’m in the same room with them.” Twilight decided to rearrange her hopes about how she wanted Scootaloo to react to her – she would much rather Scootaloo look at her first before speaking to her with such a cold and almost eerie sentiment.

“Scootaloo…” Twilight spoke quietly to her, garnering another twitch. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m doing just fine,” Scootaloo answered, her current position of hiding under a table curled in a ball dictating otherwise.

From the oven, a series of high-pitched beeps sounded, indicating that the payload of chocolate chips and dough had been baked to perfection. Despite his general resistance to fire, Spike donned a pair of oven mitts specially made for him by Rarity, and opened the oven door. A blast of heat pulsed from the opening, and with that, the aroma of the confections had doubled. As Spike set the cookie sheet onto the countertop with a gentle clink, Twilight also heard a gentle growl come from what she was certain was the stomach of a little winged pony.

“Are you hungry?” Twilight asked innocuously.

“No,” was Scootaloo’s unamused reply. Her stomach growled again as Spike fanned the cookies to both rapidly cool them down and to disperse the intoxicating aroma throughout the rest of the kitchen.

“You might not be, but your stomach sounds like it is,” Twilight said playfully, desperate to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

“I wish you wouldn’t talk to me like I’m some stupid little filly,” Scootaloo told her, her voice carrying the same cold quality it did before.

Twilight was taken aback by how sharply Scootaloo had seen through her ploy. She looked back at Spike, silently pleading for assistance, who met her gaze with a confused shrug. He then gestured his claws forward, urging Twilight to keep the conversation going before the room fell silent for too long. Twilight thought for a moment, and –

“You ARE a little filly, Scootaloo,” Twilight said, doing her best to sound sincere and calming. “And I don’t think you’re stupid.”
Scootaloo snorted at her, and finally turned to face the princess. Her purple eyes were surrounded by a mix of red and white, swollen and shimmering from her recent tearful episode. “Really?” She glowered. “Isn’t that what the letter said? That I’m a colossal screw up, a featherbrained flightless failure?”

Twilight felt her own purple eyes beginning to water at the sheer ferocity of the statement. “What? No! W-why would you think something like that?”

Scootaloo turned away again, leaving Twilight with a glimpse of the little wings folding back to Scootaloo’s sides having flared in a moment of passion. “It doesn’t even matter…” Scootaloo replied dejectedly, exhaling deeply as she nestled her head back onto her forelegs.

This time, it was Twilight who grew passionate. “It does too matter! You’re not a screw up, and you certainly aren’t a failure!” She exclaimed, Scootaloo scoffing in reply. “As a matter of fact, the letter said that Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and you especially, have been mistreated and harassed for a long time by a couple of bullies.”

Scootaloo was quiet for a moment. “Where are they? Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, I mean,” she said, dismissing the point about Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.

“They both left-”

“-Figures-”

“-Because I forced them to,” Twilight continued resolutely. “They both wanted nothing more than to stay and make sure you were okay, and they wouldn’t leave until I promised to make sure you were.”

“I bet,” Scootaloo replied sarcastically. “They were sick and tired of hanging out with a loser like me.”

“You don’t get great friends like Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Rainbow Dash by being a loser, Scootaloo,” Twilight said kindly. “They all care about you so, so much because they know how awesome you are.” She spoke with such genuine concern, such strength of belief, that Scootaloo turned to face her once again, a fresh stream of moisture streaming down her cheeks.

“T-They don’t care,” she spoke with as much conviction as she could muster as her emotions threatened to derail her words. “Not Apple Bloom, not Sweetie Belle, and not – not Rainbow Dash.”

“But they do,” Twilight assured her, smiling at the forlorn Pegasus under her furniture.

“No, they don’t!” Scootaloo cried, “Especially not Sweetie Belle or Apple Bloom, not with how I’ve been treating them,” she sniffed, another tear leaking from her eyes.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Twilight asked with concern, unsure of exactly what Scootaloo meant about her friends.

“We are talking about it,” Scootaloo pointed out, wiping her face as dry as she could before burying her muzzle again.

“I meant out here,” Twilight said softly, sweeping behind her with her hoof. “It’d be a lot easier for both of us, I think.”

“I’m fine right here,” Scootaloo stated, her little stomach growling once again at the smell of the warm fragrance from the cookies. As if on cue, Spike handed Twilight a plate with five particularly chip-laden cookies that he had cooled from earlier, the chocolate in them now melted into a wondrously gooey pattern.

“…We’ve got cookies?” Twilight suggested to the Pegasus with just a hint of desperation present in her voice. Scootaloo looked at the princess’s goofy smile, then to the plate of heavenly confections, and then back to the princess. “Please?”

“…Okay,” Scootaloo conceded, slowly rising from her warmed patch of under-the-table real estate, and began to sidle through the wooden legs to the open kitchen where her late lunch awaited.

Twilight’s eyes grew incredibly wide as she bore witness to Scootaloo massacring the baked goods before her. One of Spike’s cookies hovered in front of her open mouth, unmoving in its translucent purple envelope. Scootaloo, on the other hand, was a blur of motion, her mouth smacking loudly as she devoured the baked goods ravenously. Twilight was grateful that the recipe Spike used kept the cookies soft and chewy, or there would have been a flurry of crumbs bursting from the filly’s feasting.

“Sooo….” Spike asked slowly, his claw holding a treat with only a single bit taken before he became distracted at the tornado in front of him.

“Do you like them?”

Scootaloo nodded her head up and down aggressively. “Ith delithouth!” She exclaimed, expelling a fleck of chocolate goop as she did so.

“YES! Three for three, Crusader approved!” Spike cried, pumping his fist as he did so. Twilight cracked a smile, watching Spike gulp his cookie down in celebration, and looked back at Scootaloo, chocolate smears lining the Pegasus’ mouth. Scootaloo noticed her, and immediately blushed, looking down at the now empty china dish that she had cleaned spectacularly.

“You seemed famished,” Twilight said good-naturedly, trying not to embarrass the filly further. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No,” Scootaloo shook her head resolutely.

“Are you sure?” Twilight asked, turning to the refrigerator and stepping towards it. “Nothing goes better with homemade cookies than a cold glass of milk,” she tempted. Twilight could practically hear the air generated from Scootaloo’s motions as she shook her head even more.

“Oh no, your highness… I-I couldn’t! Milk is so expensive, and I-”

Twilight raised her eyebrow to herself, already using her magic to pour the milk she retrieved from the fridge into three separate glasses.

“Expensive? That’s hardly something you should be concerned about,” Twilight told Scootaloo, setting one of the glasses down in front of her. It had already begun to sweat, and the extra sheen gave it an utterly refreshing appearance that Twilight could tell Scootaloo was giving her best effort to resist.

Scootaloo’s protest quieted in volume now that Twilight had joined her again at the table. “I just… I wouldn’t want to impose,” she whispered to the seat of the chair.

“Impose nothing!” Spike insisted, “We’re offering it to you, you aren’t imposing at all.”

Scootaloo murmured inaudibly.

“Spike’s right,” Twilight added as Spike drank his entire glass in one fell swoop. “I appreciate you trying to be gracious, but it’s really not a big deal.”

Scootaloo’s front hooves sat firmly planted in her chair, not budging an inch.

“It would make me feel better if you did,” Twilight said. Much to her surprise, Scootaloo moved - raising her head to glare at the princess.

“Fine!” She shot. “But only because you’re a princess, and I HAVE to do what you say anyways,” Scootaloo said angrily. The orange pony gripped the glass between her hooves and raised it to her mouth, sucking down its contents. Although she appeared upset, Twilight could see her lips curl upward as the liquid cooled her parched throat. Scootaloo set the empty glass down forcefully, glaring at the princess.

“Happy?” She asked sarcastically.

Twilight was rather shocked by the caustic response and had to think before answering. Honestly, no. She wasn’t happy by the bitter reactions Scootaloo was extolling. However, she knew from one of the many Foal Psychology books she read that it would take more than a bribery of food to get Scootaloo to want to speak with her.

“Scootaloo, I’m a princess… not a tyrant,” Twilight explained after inhaling deeply. “And right now, I’m not Princess Twilight. I’m just plain old Twilight Sparkle, alright? Your friendly egghead librarian,” she added, hoping that ribbing on herself would cause Scootaloo to see that she was trying as hard as she could to be as approachable as possible.

“So… I don’t have to do what you tell me, then?” Scootaloo inquired suspiciously.

Twilight shook her head.

“So I don’t have to stay here?”

“No,” Twilight gambled. “If you want to leave, you’re more than welcome to,” she informed Scootaloo calmly.

“Really?”

“It’s entirely up to you,” The lavender Alicorn said simply.

Scootaloo stared at Twilight, analyzing her, determined to discover what she was playing at. Twilight could see the little gears in her head turning underneath her unkempt mane. Scootaloo’s eyes narrowed, and then-

“Then I’m leaving.”

With that, Scootaloo hopped from the chair, and with a noticeably forced pep in her step, waltzed past Twilight, and through the entryway of the kitchen. Twilight cursed silently under her breath, making a point to reread the section on reverse psychology from that book before the day was through. Spike wasn’t helping the situation, and was waving his claws frantically at her.

“What are we gonna do, Twilight? You promised Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom that you would help!”

“I know, Spike!” Twilight hissed. “I just wasn’t expecting – wait, you heard that?”

“Duh!” Spike replied. A staccato ding cut through the air as the front door to the library opened.

“Then that means that she – Scootaloo, wait!” Twilight cried, leaping from her seat towards the main chamber of the library. From the opening of the kitchen, she saw Scootaloo looking back at her from the front door, the door resting upon her small frame, and light awash over her.

“What do you want now?” Scootaloo asked, her annoyed tone lashing at Twilight.

Although Twilight was less reluctant to cite passages from the book, she remembered that young ponies would often get intimidated and fearful if they were approached so soon after an outburst, feeling “chased”, as the author put it.

“I made a promise, Scootaloo,” Twilight explained, standing still in the threshold. “A promise to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, to help you.”

Scootaloo merely rolled her eyes. “So what?” she snarled.

“So, you wouldn’t want your best friends to have been lied to, would you?” Twilight answered, hoping that Scootaloo would put her friend’s feelings in front of her anger.

It was to little avail. “Maybe that’s your fault for making a promise that you couldn’t keep!” Scootaloo shouted, not caring that ponies passing through the open door of the library might hear.

Twilight voicelessly remarked to herself that Scootaloo’s training to be like Rainbow Dash was working for at least one aspect of the young Pegasus – they were both as stubborn as mules.

“Maybe it would be a good thing,” Scootaloo continued. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, the liar. Not as perfect at everything as everyone thinks she is,”

Twilight heard Spike gasp behind her at the insult. Twilight had to admit she had a difficult time believing that Scootaloo could conjure such a hurtful statement herself. Did Scootaloo truly hate her that much?

“Is that – is that what this is about?” Twilight asked shakily. “You want to make a liar out of me? You want to prove that I’m not perfect? Scootaloo, I’m not perfect – nopony is!” Twilight’s deep purple eyes welled up, much to her surprise. She was supposed to be strong and inspiring as a princess. She wasn’t supposed to start crying when someone said something mean to her. What kind of example was that going to set for Scootaloo? And then Twilight realized that maybe, just maybe, that was the perfect example.

“Wait… I didn’t mean… Look, I just meant-” Scootaloo babbled. Twilight looked at her, embarrassed that a fully grown pony – an Alicorn no less! – was tearing up at the words of a filly. Scootaloo looked back, a look of apprehension and mingled fear upon her face. “I-I just meant that I didn’t need any help, that’s all!”

Twilight wiped her eyes with her hoof, and stared back at Scootaloo with an almost piercing look, as though she could see straight through her. With a clarity that surprised even herself, she spoke.

“Your friends care for you so much, Scootaloo. All three of you strive so hard to be so independent and to grow up so fast... Neither Apple Bloom nor Sweetie Belle would have asked me for help if they didn’t have any other choice. You can’t think it was easy for them to ask a princess of all ponies to help their best friend? Please… let me help you.”

Scootaloo’s ears folded, her eyes once again tearing up. The autumn air from the open door breezed through the library, blowing the letter detailing Scootaloo’s situation, but Twilight didn’t care. All she focused on, with every fiber of her being was the choice that Scootaloo would be making in the next couple of seconds.

“Don’t do it for me. You don’t even have to do it for yourself! If you do it at all, for any reason at all… do it for your friends,” Twilight finished, her voice having lost the clarity in the waves of emotion that tumbled over her.

Scootaloo sat in silence, only moving and making a sound when sobs rocked her body. Twilight tried one last time.

“Scootaloo?” The young Pegasus looked at the princess woefully, eyes swollen and red.

“Your friends miss you.”

Scootaloo knelt on the ground, her will to stand abandoning her. “I…”

Twilight blinked slowly and listened.

“I miss them, too,” Scootaloo choked. “I miss them so, so much, and I’ve been so – so horrible, and I’ve been such a letdown and an awful friend, and I… I need help.”

Like the ragdoll Smarty Pants had done years before, Scootaloo floated limply through the air, surrounded by a gentle pink glow. She came to a stop upon a soft, warm, gentle, and comforting surface. As her hooves hung limply from her sides, Scootaloo felt the downy touch of feathers against them.

Twilight carefully walked up the stairs, the back of her neck dampened with tears from the small pony resting on her back. The handle of the door to her bedroom turned in a pink haze, Twilight and Scootaloo passing through. Scootaloo stifled another tearful gasp into Twilight’s shoulders.

“It’s going to be alright, Scootaloo… I promise.”

Nobody Does You (Better Than You)

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The door to Twilight’s bedroom glowed softly, a translucent pink glow guiding it shut with an unseen force from the princess’s horn. The handle was a darker, more vivid shade, and upon the door quietly pressing shut, it turned with a soft click.

Twilight quietly stepped towards her bed, one that bore stitched signs and constellations of yellow stars along its navy blue backdrop. Using her magic once more, she elevated the shivering Pegasus filly from her back and gently laid her onto the bedspread, the light weight barely making an impact on the pulled sheets. The aura dissipated, leaving Scootaloo to curl up again, her purple mane covering her eyes.

Twilight stared at her, her expression as gentle as she could muster in the off-chance that Scootaloo would return with a stare of her own.

Twilight was battling whether or not she wanted to try and comfort Scootaloo, to stroke her mane gently with her hoof. Twilight couldn’t recall if Rainbow Dash had ever done that for the filly, and opted instead to simply resume her observation. After what seemed an eternity, Scootaloo raised her head, revealing damp face and swollen eyes to the princess, who didn’t as much as flinch at the heartbreaking sight before her.

“What’s wrong with me, Twilight?” She asked throatily, another tear leaking from her eye. “What’s wrong with me?”

Against her previous judgment, Twilight moved her hoof, placing it under the Pegasus’ chin ensuring that Scootaloo would see the utmost sincerity in Twilight’s answer.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Scootaloo,” the Alicorn said firmly. “You’re unique, and special, and wonderful, and there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why do ponies – ponies like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, and the rest of my class – why do they all make fun of me?” Scootaloo gulped, lifting her head away from Twilight’s hoof, looking away from the Alicorn.

“I have a feeling that ponies like Diamond Tiara - bullies – will make fun of anypony that’s different from them, whatever the reasons. It wouldn’t matter if your wings were small, or large. They’ll make fun of anything that makes you special.” Twilight reassured her.

“I’m not special,” Scootaloo insisted with a sob. “I’m a blank flank Pegasus that can’t fly. Imagine a Unicorn without magic, or an Earth Pony without their strength… I might as well not have these pathetic wings, just like Diamond Tiara said.”

“That’s not true.” Twilight shook her head. “Your wings, small though they may be yet, they help to set you apart from everypony else.”

“My small, stupid, useless wings,” Scootaloo mumbled resentfully. “I wish they would grow already so that I could fly.”

“I hardly think they’re useless. You couldn’t use your scooter without them, could you?” Twilight suggested.

“I wouldn’t need my scooter if I could fly,” Scootaloo replied bluntly. “It’s embarrassing. I have to chug along grounded on a foal’s toy instead of actually being able to do what every other Pegasus can do at my age.”

Twilight winced at how her example was obviously one that Scootaloo had seen coming, and subsequently torn about without hesitation. Still, Twilight kept up the front.

“I think it’s cool,” She praised. “I’ve never seen anypony else use a scooter, and if I did, I bet that they wouldn’t be nearly as awesome as you at it. I see the way you zip around town, doing all sorts of neat tricks, and leaping off of anything you can to do so. It’s so much fun to watch!” She gushed. “Did you ever consider that maybe that was your special talent? I mean, it’s practically in your name.”

Again, Scootaloo shot back with practiced bravado. “Of course I have, and it can’t be. I’ve been riding for years, and I haven’t got a cutie mark yet.”

“Rainbow Dash flew for a while before she got hers,” Twilight pointed out.

“I don’t want a cutie mark in scooting. I only use my scooter to do those tricks because I can’t do them myself. It’s a lame workaround, is what it is. It’s not something to be proud of.” Scootaloo’s voice shook as she spoke. “I just want to fly and to get my cutie mark in flying, so that ponies like Diamond Tiara will treat me like any other Pegasus... not like now.”

Their roles had switched. Twilight could hardly bear to look at Scootaloo now, while she could feel the adolescent eyes practically scalding through their tearful gaze. For once, Twilight was speechless.

“I just want it to stop,” Scootaloo finished sadly.

“Want what to stop? The bullying?”

“No,” Scootaloo answered. “Being different.”

Twilight, whom had done her best to appear hopeful and resilient for Scootaloo finally frowned for the first time since they had entered her bedroom. “Oh… Scootaloo.” The princess ran her hoof softly through the younger one’s mane. “You don’t mean that.”

“But I do,” Scootaloo insisted. “I want to be like Rainbow Dash.”

Here, Twilight had another idea. She could only hope that it wouldn’t backfire like her last one.

“Why?” Twilight asked slyly.

“Why what?” Scootaloo replied with a hint of frustration in her voice.

“Why do you want to be like Rainbow Dash?” Twilight clarified.

“Why do I… Why WOULDN’T I want to be like Rainbow Dash?” Scootaloo queried in disbelief. “She’s just so… awesome! She’s fast, and cool, and she can – she can make a Sonic Rainboom! Who else can make a Sonic Rainboom?” The praise rolled off of her tongue.

Twilight cracked a smile, the kind of satisfied grin she wore when she completed a successful experiment or mastered a brand new spell.

“So… you want to be like Rainbow Dash because she’s unique?”

Scootaloo looked up at the princess, her eyes growing wide in realization of the trap she fell into. “Well…yes, b-but… She’s a good kind of different.”

“What makes her traits ‘good’ instead of ‘bad’?” Twilight mused to her.

Scootaloo scrunched her face up in thought as Twilight watched her curiously.

“I… I guess I don’t know,” Scootaloo admitted reluctantly.

“That’s because there isn’t a difference,” Twilight told her. “There’s no good or bad kind of different when you think about it. It’s just a matter of perception.”

Scootaloo raised her eyebrow at the cryptic and, from what Twilight could gather from her pursed lips, unsatisfied opinion of her explanation.

“I bet that Rainbow Dash doesn’t have to deal with jerks like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon though. Everypony likes her.” Scootaloo presented as her rebuttal.

“Believe it or not, Scootaloo,” Twilight started. “She’s had to deal with her fair share of ponies that didn’t like her. Do you remember how she got her cutie mark?”

“By doing a Sonic Rainboom, of course!”

“But do you remember why?”

“Umm…” Scootaloo scrunched her face again, searching her memory to try and remember what transpired beyond the surface of the spectacle Rainbow Dash created. “There was a race… and Fluttershy fell after Rainbow Dash created the Rainboom to win, right?”

“That’s correct, but do you remember why there was a race to begin with?”

“…It’s been a while since I heard that part.”

“She was standing up to a pair of bullies that were making fun of her and Fluttershy,” Twilight explained. “Rainbow Crash and Klutzershy they called them.”

“Oh... I forgot about that part,” Scootaloo grimaced. “Rainbow Crash...” she muttered quietly. “But she was only a filly! Those jerks didn’t know who they were talking to,” Scootaloo defended her idol fervently.

Twilight actually laughed at how fitting Scootaloo’s sentiment was at proving her point. “But that’s just it! You’re still just a filly, and nopony knows what you’re capable of yet! Not me, not you, and especially not Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon.”

“Whatever that might be…” Scootaloo said plaintively. “Not that it matters. You said they would make fun of me anyways, just because I’m different.”

Twilight’s grin morphed into a frown again. “The worst part is, that’s probably true. Ponies treating others badly are unfortunately a fact of life, one that I can almost guarantee you everypony has had to deal with at some point.”

The orange Pegasus’ ears twitched, and she had a strangely inquisitive expression about her. “What about you, Twilight?” Scootaloo probed. “Did you ever have to deal with bullies?”

The lavender Alicorn nodded her head, and she answered affirmatively with what seemed to be an inflection of pride. “Of course I did!”

“Really?” Scootaloo’s eyes shot open in disbelief. “Why?”

“Because I’m an egghead,” Twilight said simply. “Always have been. Other ponies thought it was weird that I read so many books and liked them. Naturally, they made fun of me for it.”

“So how did YOU deal with it?”

“I… I didn’t. Not for a while,” Twilight admitted, that inflection of pride all but vanishing. “I tried to ignore them, and just hoped they would leave me alone. It wasn’t until my brother found them bullying me that he intervened and told me that what they were doing was unacceptable that I finally learned to ask for help.”

“Who did you ask for help? Did your brother follow you around?” Scootaloo fired excitedly.

“He certainly kept a close eye on me after that.” Twilight nodded. “But he made sure that my teachers were aware of it so they could put a stop to it, and told me not to be afraid of telling them when it happened.”

“So you basically became a tattle-tale,” Scootaloo disapproved rather bluntly. “That’s just… so uncool though.”

“Maybe,” Twilight pondered. “But it’s a lot cooler than constantly being worried about being mistreated, isn’t it? Remember Apple Bloom’s cousin, Babs?”

“That was different,” Scootaloo argued.

“How so?”

“She was only bullying us to avoid being bullied like she was back at home. I didn’t want to get her in trouble for that,” Scootaloo explained.

“Really? Didn’t you find out about her bullying problem AFTER you and the Crusaders told Applejack?” Twilight pointed out, recalling Applejack telling her about the instance the day after Babs had departed.

“Oh yeah…” Scootaloo smiled sheepishly. “That makes me wonder…”

“Hmm?”

“If Babs bullied us because SHE was being bullied… why do Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon do it to us?”

Twilight looked down uneasily, pondering the reasons why these two would have it out for the Crusaders with such zeal. “I… I’m not sure. I don’t know them or their situation well enough to say with certainty. I’m sure that they have their reasons, however misguided they may be.”

“I can’t think of any,” Scootaloo muttered bitterly. “They’re both the richest and most popular ponies in school. I think they’re just mean, simple as that.”

“I think you’ll find that most ponies are good at heart, Scootaloo. They might just lose their way sometimes… kind of like what happened today with you.” Twilight told her assuredly. She felt more confident approaching the subject detailed in the letter now that Scootaloo was on speaking terms with more sensitive issues.

Scootaloo groaned, and slammed her head down on to the blue plush blanket. It wasn’t hard or firm at all, but she still leapt up and yelped with surprise.

“Are you alright?” Twilight asked with alarm. She noticed the purple bruising on Scootaloo’s forehead again, and pieced it together without waiting for Scootaloo to reply. “It’s your forehead, isn’t it?”

“N-no…” Scootaloo denied vehemently. “It’s fine.”

“Scootaloo…” The Alicorn chided. “Remember what I said about asking for help? Let me take a look.”

Scootaloo grumbled under her breath, but made no effort to wriggle away from Twilight as her hoof tenderly swept away the purple mane shielding some of the blemish from view.

“Did Diamond Tiara do this?” Twilight inquired with concern, making a mental note to get an ice pack to rest on the filly’s forehead before too long.

“This was more Silver Spoon, but… Diamond Tiara played a part in it, sort of. Wasn’t it in the letter?” Scootaloo cocked her head, certain that Twilight would have read it by now.

“Forget about the letter, Scootaloo. I want to hear it from you.” she dismissed.

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo asked with uncertainty. “I don’t really think you want to listen to me mope about myself anymore.”

“Of course I do,” Twilight exclaimed. Twilight knew from first-hoof experience that talking about difficult experiences and problems with someone who wanted to listen was exponentially helpful in expelling bottled up emotions, and making one feel better. Which was of course, what Twilight had promised to do for Scootaloo.

“Okay…” Scootaloo conceded. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Wherever you want to.”

Scootaloo took a deep breath, and began to recall the events as she had experienced them from that morning onward.

Twilight recalled, unfortunately late throughout the account, that this sort of therapy had a tendency to be painful for the one spilling the source of their distress and discomfort. Scootaloo had started crying several times, and it became more and more clear to the princess why Scootaloo had wanted so much to be rid of the ammunition that Diamond Tiara could use against her. From what Twilight could gather, the teasing had been going on for years and, from Scootaloo’s gasping and bawling as she described the sheer humiliation of the prank pulled today, had grown much more relentless in the past month.

“A-and the worst part – the worst part was...” The Pegasus choked again, more tears spilling onto the already damp patch of bedding.
“Everypony was laughing. Everypony! They all think it’s so funny that I’m so – so…”

Scootaloo took a deep, rattling breath, and the room was permeated with a silent unease.

“…So worthless.”

Twilight had shed several tears already throughout, as quietly as she could so as to not interrupt the filly’s tale. Another fell freely from her violet eyes, and she finally made a sound.

“No, you aren’t,” She protested. Twilight flapped her wings, a small pocket of air lifting her on to the bed alongside the bedraggled pony that had lain down on her right side, looking away from the Alicorn and at the star shaped carving on the wooden headboard.

Another sob wracked Scootaloo’s body, and she could see a shadow forming on the pillow in front of her. Scootaloo tilted her head upward, and witnessed one of Twilight’s wings stretching above her, unmoving. Scootaloo rolled over, turning to face the princess with an almost frightened expression on her face.

“You’re not.” Twilight said as comfortingly as she could. Scootaloo looked up again at the wing above her, and then back to Twilight, who had taken her place next to the younger pony, also resting on her side. The Pegasus’ lip quivered.

“Y-You mean it?”

“Of course I do.” Twilight nodded slowly, utmost sincerity carried in her voice.

With that, Scootaloo dove into Twilight’s side, just under where her outstretched wing would have normally been folded along the Alicorn’s ribs. Though she was no stranger to crying that day, she started again, and Twilight could sense it was for a noticeably different reason. As Twilight’s wing lowered and wrapped itself around the filly, she felt the hooves of the little pony next to her doing their best to wrap around the much larger pony. Twilight glimpsed downward, seeing a messy curl of purple mane pressed close to her chest. She could feel every one of Scootaloo’s sniffles and sobs, and for good reason; Scootaloo’s had pressed her muzzle as close as to the princess’ body as she could, reveling in her the warmth and comfort that was being offered, and accepting as much of it she could.

Twilight caressed Scootaloo’s mane, feeling the little ear twitching against her hoof as she did so. Scootaloo continued to quietly weep into her side, the sorrowed whines slowly subsiding. Twilight continued to stroke the filly’s mane, the room falling quieter and quieter as the orange light from the window filtered through the curtains. Several minutes passed. There wasn’t a sound but that of Scootaloo’s breathing.

Twilight tried to guess the time, which was made more difficult as the winter neared, and the days grew shorter in the autumn season. She felt the warm, gentle breath from Scootaloo’s mouth against her fur, and looked down again to see that Scootaloo had completely surrendered to the day’s significant stresses, and had passed into slumber while resting under Twilight’s blanket-esque wing. Twilight cracked a smile, and decided to allow the young one a few minutes more.

After several instances of allowing “a few minutes more” had passed, there came a soft knocking at the door. Careful not to shift too much and wake her charge, Twilight turned her head with her horn aglow. Gently manipulating her magic to coax the door handle open, the door opened to reveal Spike standing timidly in the door frame.

“Shh…” Twilight whispered. “She’s sleeping.”

The dragon quietly stepped towards the edge of the bed, walking around the foot of it to bring herself closer to Twilight. With curiosity, he peeked past Twilight’s left shoulder to the slow pulsing figure lodged underneath her wing.

“How is she?” Spike asked quietly, his voice as low he could muster.

“Better,” Twilight replied. “She’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah… she had a pretty rough day, huh?”

“It’s not just been today, Spike. She’s been dealing with this ever since Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon got their cutie marks, and I have this feeling that...”

“That what?”

“That this is the first time she’s ever spoken about it. I mean, really opened up about it,” Twilight expressed with a solemn tone in her whisper. “You should have seen her, Spike… it was terrible.”

“What about her parents? Or with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle?”

“I don’t know, Spike. I think she tries so hard to be tough and strong for everypony else, to be like Rainbow Dash. She’s done it for so long…I don't think she really knows how to let her guard down.”

Spike smiled at the princess, who wasn’t looking back at the dragon, but looked instead with great sadness at Scootaloo below her. “Well, leave it to Twilight Sparkle to help counsel her through it. A pretty good trait for a princess of Equestria, don’t you think?”

Twilight blushed, and rolled her eyes before changing the subject. “Thanks, Spike… is everything alright downstairs?”

“Actually,” Spike started, and then immediately silenced himself as Scootaloo stirred. He waited with bated breath for a dozen or so seconds, making sure that he hadn’t disturbed the filly. The dragon stretched his calves, making himself taller as to close the gap between him and Twilight. “Thunderlane stopped by from the weather team. He wanted to talk about next week’s weather, mentioned something about-”

Again Spike went quiet as Scootaloo shifted. This time however, instead of falling still again, Scootaloo raised her head, looking blearily at the scene before her.

“Whusgoinon?” She mumbled.

“Morning, Scoots,” Spike addressed her with a wave of his claw, his response naught but an inaudible yawn from the freshly awoken pony. “I’ll tell you about it later, Twi.” He nodded to Twilight before excusing himself from the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

“How are you feeling, Scootaloo? Better?” Twilight queried hopefully.

“Actually… yeah. A lot,” Scootaloo admitted after another yawn escaped her. “Except…”

“Except what?”

“I’ve got a bit of umm… a headache,” Scootaloo replied. “This bruise, I guess.”

“And you’ve been crying a lot today.” Twilight pointed out. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about either,” she insisted upon witnessing a splash of red appear on Scootaloo’s cheeks. “I’ve had more than a few in my time. Let me fetch you an ice pack that you can take home with you.”

“Bring home with me?” Scootaloo blurted.

“Well, yes. I’m sure you didn’t want to spend more time in the library than you needed to,” Twilight explained. “Unless… Did you want to talk some more?”

“Oh no.” Scootaloo shook her head. “You’ve listened to me so much already, and I wouldn’t want to keep you from other important royal duties you’ve gotta take care of.”

Twilight tousled Scootaloo’s mane playfully. “If you want to talk about ‘royal duties’, then nothing is more important to me than the well-being of my subjects, I uhh… I do decree,” she added jokingly.

Scootaloo giggled at Twilight’s faux-royal speech. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to be good to go for the time being. I was just hoping that maybe I could stay just a bit longer.”

“Of course you can,” Twilight said. “Was there something else you needed?”

“You remember how Cheerilee said I could make up that Holidays of Equestria assignment?” Scootaloo reminded her. “I was hoping to get a jump-start on it tonight.”

“Oh yes, that's right. Sweetie Belle had mentioned it too… but so soon?” Twilight asked. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a proper night’s sleep first?”

“Definitely,” Scootaloo insisted. “I at least want to pick a holiday.”

“Well, Rainbow Dash was right about one thing – you’ve definitely got spirit.”

“Rainbow said that…” Scootaloo mouthed before blushing again, falling silent.

Twilight chuckled at how Scootaloo seemingly fell to pieces at the mere mention of praise from her idol, but didn’t pursue that line of conversation at the risk of embarrassing the pony further. Rather, she simply reaffirmed the request.

“You’re welcome to use the library as long as you like. Now, let’s go get you an ice pack and a good book to start from. I’ve got the perfect reference guide, actually.” Twilight unfurled her wing, lifting it from Scootaloo’s figure and gave it a good stretch. Scootaloo, on the other hoof uttered a surprised, and if Twilight wasn’t imagining things, disappointed, exclamation as the cocoon of warmth suddenly vanished from around her.

“Right… that’s awesome. Thanks a bunch, Twilight.” Scootaloo expressed as she stood up from the blanket, giving her legs a good stretch of their own. The filly hopped down onto the wooden floor, into the small patch of barely noticeable sunlight trailing upon it, glowing behind from the curtained window. Twilight followed suit, using her wings to glide towards the door that had already swung open with a pre-emptive command from her horn.

“Oh… one more thing, Princess Twilight?” Scootaloo asked as she trotted alongside the Alicorn.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think… Spike has any more of those cookies left?”

“Now that, Scootaloo.” Twilight laughed as the duo stepped through the door. “That’s something I can’t promise.”

Little By Little

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Scootaloo followed behind the princess, looking behind her at the still open door to Twilight’s bedroom. Despite the dull haze of her nap still lingering, she could remember just how much of herself she had spilled to the patient Alicorn walking in front of her. A blush crept upon her face, and the biting ache in her head reminded her that it wasn’t just her thoughts and worries, but also several streams of salty tears that she had spilled as well – no doubt the bedspread was still damp. Scootaloo straightened her neck out, looking up at Twilight, who didn’t seem perturbed. Rather, Twilight was now wearing a dutiful expression upon her countenance, one that she no doubt had used when composing her infamous lists for scheduling her day’s objectives. Of course, if what Scootaloo had heard was true, those lists were often written by none other than her number one assistant.

“Spike?” Twilight called from the top of the stairs, slowly making her way down them one hoof at a time, while Scootaloo bounded with two hooves simultaneously, like a coil, to make up for the difference in stride.

“Yeah?” The dragon’s head popped up from behind the desk with Cheerilee’s letter resting upon it, the tall red feathered tip of a quill dancing in front of his nose.

“Oh, were you writing something?” Twilight asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Scootaloo clambering down beside her.

“Just Thunderlane’s message, in case I forgot while you were two were upstairs. I know how you like things documented anyways,” Spike added. “Now that you’re here, I can tell you about it myself.”

“In a minute, if you wouldn’t mind,” Twilight requested. “Do you still have the books about Equestrian Holidays on hoof?”

“These ones?” Spike lifted two rather thick volumes with one claw from a small shelf labeled “Frequent Usage: History and References.”

Scootaloo squinted to read the titles along the spines of the books – one was titled Death, Darkness, and Deranged Depravity – A History of Hearts and Hooves Day while the other was much less nefariously titled The Birth of Equestria: Hearth’s Warming Eve Explored. She noticed the formidable thickness of the works upon closer inspection, and silently gulped.

Twilight however, didn’t need to read the spines to know that they weren’t the books she was looking for. “I was thinking more along the lines of Holidays: Past and Present or Celebrations Explanations. Something a bit more general, to help Scootaloo choose a holiday for her project.”

“Oh, right.” Spike nodded. “Just a second, Twilight, I’ll get ‘em right away.”

“Thanks, Spike,” Twilight expressed, as Spike shuffled towards the array of bookshelves behind him in search of his objective. “Now then, Scootaloo…” She said, using her magic to lift a folded piece of paper atop the desk from underneath Cheerilee's now-vacated envelope to the edge of the desk closest to Scootaloo.

“What’s tha – Hey!” Scootaloo’s question was interrupted as she was levitated above the polished floor of the library, her wings buzzing to prevent her from falling. Although Scootaloo had been moved by magic onto Twilight’s back not long before, she was still none too used to it while she was acting without the tendencies of a ragdoll.

The Pegasus looked down, giggling at the sight of the room below her – it was an entirely new perspective for the filly. She witnessed a chair coated in a magenta light that was similar to the one engulfing her sliding right next to the desk below, and she watched herself lower onto it as the aura gently faded. She couldn’t help feeling just a tinge of disappointment as her hooves rested upon a solid surface once more.

“Sorry!” Twilight squeaked. “I should have asked before using magic on you.”

“It’s – it’s fine.” Scootaloo sputtered, shaking her head as if to try and rid herself of the magical residue, much like a dog would when it wanted to dry off after a swim in the river, her head twinging. “Just a little warning next time, is all.”

“Good luck with that,” Spike chuckled, placing a number of books atop the desk. “Magic is a reflex for Twilight by now – you might as well ask her to warn you when she’s going to sneeze.”

“Spike!” Twilight warned jokingly, to which the dragon merely snickered some more. “Are these the holiday books?”

“Yup!” The dragon answered with a chipper voice. “Holidays: Past And Present, Celebrations Explanations, and a third I found in the same section – Times and Traditions.” The dragon used a claw to point out each one as he read their names from the spines. “Should be a good place to start, right?”

“Excellent, as always,” Twilight complimented, which Spike vastly enjoyed from what Scootaloo could discern from the dragon’s satisfied beaming. “As I was saying, Scootaloo,” she addressed the filly. “Here’s the list of the holidays your peers have already chosen.” The Alicorn pointed at the piece of paper she had just moved in front of Scootaloo. The Pegasus looked down at the list, seeing Apple Bloom’s name atop the list next to “Hearth’s Warming Eve”. Scootaloo also couldn’t help but notice the now brown smudge on the edge of the sheet.

“Picking a holiday shouldn’t be too difficult,” Twilight continued. “Simply look through the table of contents in one of the books here…” The brown cover of Holidays: Past and Present burst with a lavender flash for a moment as it lifted open to reveal said table of contents to Scootaloo, the cover now partially concealing the sign-up sheet.

“…and find an interesting one that ISN’T already on that list.” Twilight concluded.

“Got it.” Scootaloo nodded.

“Now…” Twilight frowned, her magic pulling the list out from underneath the hardcover panel to examine it once again. “…It looks like a lot of the more popular ones have already been picked over, so you might have to go with something a bit more obscure – lesser known, I mean.”

“I figured as much,” the Pegasus said with a sigh. “All the days we get off, right?”

“Probably!” Twilight laughed. “Now, while you get to that, I’ll go fetch your ice pack.”

Scootaloo had been so absorbed in trying to pre-decide her holiday that she had almost forgotten about her headache. Almost.

“Thank you so much, Princess Twilight.”

“Just Twilight is fine, Scootaloo,” The mare said as she and Spike made their way into the kitchen. “Think nothing of it… Now, Spike, you mentioned Thunderlane…”

Left alone with nothing but the books and list on the desk before her, Scootaloo took a deep breath and began to browse the table of contents more thoroughly.

Arbor Day? That sounds like something Fluttershy would like…

She ran her hoof down along the piece of parchment, her eyes scanning the right hand column.

…and evidently Willow Leaf liked it too. What about this one – Civil Services Appreciation Day?

Scootaloo skimmed ahead to the indicated page 62, and read the summary for said holiday.

Civil Services Appreciation Day, established September 2, 4C59, is a day where Civil Service Members within our community, such as mayors, council members, fireponies, custodial ponies, teachers, (Cheerilee would no doubt appreciate that, Scootaloo thought.) postal workers, and public safety positions such as lifeguards and park rangers are commemorated for their valuable but oft forgotten contributions to the communities. This holiday is one that is usually accompanied by an awards ceremony for meritorious or otherwise noteworthy… blah blah blah.

Scootaloo shuddered and flipped back to the table of contents. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the hard work that those ponies did, but there was simply too much there to cover with only a weekend of preparation. Not only that, but it sounded… boring. A presentation of a presentation? Was there a Wonderbolts Appreciation Day? The Pegasus licked the tip of her hoof to aid in turning the singular page to find the holidays starting with a “W” when out of nowhere, a brilliant explosion of light accompanied with popping sound occurred only inches away from her suddenly vacated chair.

“Sorry! Sorry! I forgot – I didn’t mean to startle you!” Scootaloo heard from the floor, Twilight’s face rounding the corner of the desk, lined with a frantically apologetic appearance.

“S’fine…” Scootaloo mumbled quietly, her head pounding again as she lay on her back, and her wings folded back to her sides after the shock had worn off and she calmed down. “I wasn’t startled, I was just – MMMFFF!” Scootaloo’s face was suddenly awash with sensations of frigidity. Twilight Sparkle, it seemed, had found the ice pack, and had wasted no time in applying it.

“Here’s the ice pack – does that feel better?” Twilight fired off quickly, eager to correct the damage she had caused with her surprise teleportation. “Oh! And you’ll be glad to know, Spike saved some cookies! I have a plate here for you.”

Scootaloo jolted up at the mention of the treat, pressing the plastic coated ice pack to her forehead with her hoof as she did so.

“Cookies? Alright!” The Pegasus exclaimed, the surprisingly long and heavy ice pack draping down and resting on her shoulder. “Where are -”

“They’re right up here, on the desk – let me just-”

“No, wait! I can – wah!” Scootaloo waved her free hoof to no avail as she found herself once again levitating upward to the desk at the command of Twilight’s magic. This time however, she was prepared for it. Scootaloo embraced the feeling of being off the ground for a moment, and her wings buzzed excitedly. Underneath her, she could see the plate full of cookies resting on the desk. The smell had since faded, but they still looked as tasty as ever. Her free hoof that wasn’t holding the ice pack extended and tried to push the air away from behind her, as though she were swimming in the air. Nothing happened of course, but she still smiled excitedly being above the ground. For the second time that day, Scootaloo felt the wood from the chair beneath her, warmth emanating from when she had been sitting on it earlier, and with it, the disappointment that followed.

“Having fun?” The princess smiled knowingly.

Scootaloo looked at her with a wide grin. “Yeah! It’s so cool to be up there. Most of the time when I’m not on the ground, it’s usually falling down the side of a cliff with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle or something like that.”

“Well, hopefully that was a lot less painful. You didn’t get hurt too badly when you fell, did you?”

Scootaloo shook her head nonchalantly, yet still clutched the ice pack to her forehead. “I’ve been through a lot worse. And this-” she gestured to the ice pack “-this helps. It’s a little bit big, but it’s good.”

“Oh yes, I’ve actually been using it for these.” Twilight flapped her wings momentarily to illustrate.

“Right, Rainbow Dash’s training.” Scootaloo put it bluntly. “You must get a bit sore when you can actually fly during it.”

“I er… I didn’t want – I shouldn’t have said anything.” Twilight spoke slowly, yet still managed to stutter.

“It’s… whatever.”

Scootaloo resumed looking at the tables of content, her body sagging slightly. Though she stared constantly at the words Wonderbolts Founding, Anniversary of – Page 337, she made no effort to turn to page 337. Instead, she just listened and kept a close watch from her peripherals at the purple blur in the corner of her eyes.

“Actually, Scootaloo… I wanted to ask you about Rainbow Dash’s training.”

Of course. Scootaloo blinked and held her eyelids shut, scolding herself silently. She should have known that Twilight would have put the pieces together about the training, being that the Alicorn princess was actually the one who was receiving it.

“When the other girls – Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, that is – asked me to help you, they had mentioned that you didn’t do your project with them because you were busy getting flight lessons with Rainbow Dash…”

Scootaloo should have kept her mouth shut.

“Now, you and I both know that’s not true. Rainbow Dash has been working with me.”

Definitely.

Scootaloo sat completely still, not daring to even blink. Her eyes were starting to get sore from keeping them pointed to the left, keeping Twilight’s increasingly blurry outline in her line of sight. Yet, the filly did not dare to turn her head to look and risk the princess looking directly at her after catching her in a lie.

“I didn’t say anything to them, because I’m guessing there’s a reason that YOU didn’t.”

That was good. Scootaloo didn’t want anypony to ask questions, not even Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo stirred in her seat uneasily, awaiting another self-deduced revelation from the mare standing next to her. Twilight was doing her best imitation of Scootaloo now, and didn’t budge an inch, and didn’t make a peep. Then, there was a cough.

“I… umm… er… thanks….” Scootaloo grumbled quietly. It didn’t need to be loud. Aside from Spike shuffling in the other room, it was completely silent in the library.

“I’d like to think at this point you could feel comfortable telling me anything, Scootaloo.” Twilight whispered. “But if it bothers you that much, I won’t press the subject.”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Scootaloo finally blinked, and heard her neck crack as she faced Twilight. The princess was gazing intently at her, studying her. Scootaloo secretly hoped she hadn’t yet mastered a spell to read the thoughts of others. In that case, she secretly hoped that her secret hope was still a secret. Twilight merely raised her eyebrow.

“So… any luck finding a holiday?” The Alicorn asked cheerily to both change the subject and brighten the mood.

“Oh!” Scootaloo bounced in her seat, pivoting to face the book and list again with a sigh of relief. “No… not really. I didn’t see too many that looked interesting so far, but this ‘Wonderbolts Founding Anniversary’ looks promising.”

“Oh! That is a good one! There’s a whole bunch of fascinating history, and it doesn’t all involve Pegasus either – have you ever heard of the EUP?”

“Uh… no?”

“Well, it’s about… scratch that one.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Scratching which one?”

“Oh no, the EUP is a collaborative between… nevermind. I meant that one of your classmates already chose this holiday, it seems.”

“What? Who?” Scootaloo snapped at the paper with her hooves, quickly analyzing each line. “Snails.” She said flatly. “It had to be Snails.”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight chuckled lightheartedly. “There are plenty of other interesting holidays with rich and detailed histories and traditions to choose from in here that your peers haven’t yet selected. Look!” Twilight’s hoof rushed past Scootaloo’s muzzle to point at another item in the book. “Nopony chose the Night of Harmony’s Flowers!”

“The what of what now?” Scootaloo perked up. “Like, Elements of Harmony?”

“Better! This is an old, old holiday, one that celebrates the passing of a law allowing marriage between different races of-”

“Ew! No way!”

“What?”

“That’s just so… namby-pamby. Nopony wants to hear about lovey dovey stuff like that!” Scootaloo grimaced, her little orange muzzle scrunching up in disgust.

“What about Hearts and Hooves Day?” Twilight pointed out quickly. “I recall a funny story about how you and the other Crusaders got pretty involved with that a while back.”

“Yeah, but… that was because of the whole destruction thing,” Scootaloo replied, scratching the back of her head with her free hoof. “And, you know, Miss Cheerilee not having a special somepony.”

“Other than the near ruin of a kingdom, I don’t really see too much of a difference.” Twilight observed flatly.

Scootaloo hated to admit that Twilight was right, but she still didn’t want to pick that one. Really, it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, because her classmates wouldn’t be seeing it – just Miss Cheerilee, so it’s not like they could make fun of her for it anyways.

As much as Scootaloo decried some of the linear homework assignments, she found herself wishing that she had simply been given a holiday to present instead of having to pick one from this veritable myriad of choices. Scootaloo rarely celebrated holidays, the only notable exceptions being the ones that she was given a day off from school for, and those were hardly celebrations as much as they were opportunities to play, sleep in, or go crusading. The choice wasn’t getting any easier, especially when –

“…Equestrian Royal Army Services Day, Armistice Day, or maybe the one celebrating the liberation of the Crystal Empire – what was that one called again? Nevertheless, those are some about the near ruin of kingdom in some form or fashion…”

The Pegasus coughed, snapping Princess Twilight from the recital of her invisible list.

“I’ll pick something out, Twilight.” Scootaloo told her with a sigh. “As long as I put some effort into it, I think Cheerilee will be happy with it. Somepony presented a holiday that I’m pretty sure was fake today, and he actually got a good grade for it.”

Twilight chortled at the notion, and peered at the list to try and find the imposter. Scootaloo, in the meantime, resumed browsing Holidays: Past and Present for another acceptable holiday to make a project out of.

“'Emergence Day' by Button Mash. This has to be it.” Twilight read aloud with a smirk on her face. “What was that one about?”

Scootaloo lifted her muzzle out of the pages detailing the uncreatively titled “Rocks and Ores Week”, which she presumed to be an equally uncreative weeklong celebration of the virtues of ores and rocks, to address Twilight’s question.

“I don’t remember. Something about… something? Underground ponies, I think it was.” She said distractedly, trying to remember the details of that silly presentation while looking through an increasingly incomprehensible blur of flipped pages and inked words. Before she knew it, the back cover of the book landed atop the four hundred plus preceding pages with a soft thud.

“Um… Is everything alright?” Twilight asked from the opposite side of the desk, giving Scootaloo a wary gaze.

“Yeah, just… I’m going to try a different book. This one didn’t really have enough of what I was looking for,” Scootaloo answered, grasping Times and Traditions and opening the front page.

“Do you need some more help choosing? I can suggest some more – here, just let me take this one…” The Alicorn spoke rapidly, using her magic to lift the unopened copy of Celebrations Explanations towards her.

“No!” Scootaloo exclaimed, retreating at the sight of Twilight flinching. “I mean… No, thank you. I’m not really good at this whole ‘choosing a topic’ thing. There’s so many to pick from, and hearing more suggestions just… it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Oh…OH!” Twilight gasped when she realized what Scootaloo was implying. “I didn’t mean to distract you, or interrupt you, or – or –“

“It’s okay! I really do appreciate you being so helpful, honest! I just…” Scootaloo shrugged, unable to decide how exactly to say to Twilight that her “help” wasn’t exactly helpful; it just added more noise to Scootaloo’s already torrential deluge of thoughts. Much to her relief, however, Twilight proved her expertise in sympathy once again.

“I understand,” she said, the book before her closing shut in a purple aura. “If you need help, I’ll be upstairs in my study – bedroom,” she added hastily to clear up the confused look on Scootaloo’s face. “I’ve got a letter to Miss Cheerilee to write anyways.” She finished, pushing the chair she had stepped off of back under the desk.

The pages started to turn again. Flip, flip, flip – seemingly in time with Twilight’s hoof falls up the stairs.

It was one thing, Scootaloo thought, to have some of her frustrations and emotions spilled forth onto the bedsheets and ears of an Equestrian Princess. But what if her teacher found out? Scootaloo found herself wishing she hadn’t said anything at all about… anything. She could imagine the look on Cheerilee’s face after reading that Scootaloo had run to a princess about her personal problems, and the look on her face when she next saw Scootaloo on Monday. It’d be a mix of pity and disgust – “poor little Scootaloo,” She’d say. She could imagine the mirth on Diamond Tiara’s countenance when Cheerilee watched over Scootaloo like a hawk. “Don’t make fun of her because she’s a blank flank and can’t fly!” That’s what Cheerilee would say, certainly. And all of her classmates would make absolutely sure to bring it up at every instance they could, with malicious sarcasm and sickening sweetness.

“Can I have a blank piece of paper? Not blank like Scootaloo’s flank, of course. That would be SOOO mean.”

“Is that a fly buzzing around the room? Certainly it’s not Scootaloo trying to take off. Nope.”

The pages whirred as the young Pegasus’ breaths grew shallow. She couldn’t let that happen. Worse yet, if Cheerilee found out that Scootaloo had to rely on a princess to ask for help instead of family, what would she do? Any ounce of investigating, and –and – NO. Scootaloo wouldn’t go back. She couldn’t take the looks, and the forced smiles, and the mutterings from behind closed doors. All saying exactly what Diamond Tiara had said to her that day, all saying –

“I’m not going to tell her anything you told me, if you’re wondering.” Twilight called over her shoulder from the top of the stairs. Scootaloo didn’t say anything, her thought process screeching to a halt, and the panicked flipping through the textbook fallen silent. “Everything you said I’m keeping in confidence. It’s entirely up to you if you wish to share it.”

"Please... don't tell her," Scootaloo pled softly. "I don't want her to think that I'm some - some crybaby, bawling to a princess because I got made fun of at school."

"She wouldn't think that of you, Scootaloo. She'd probably think you were very brave for sharing yourself the way you did."

"Brave..." Scootaloo shuddered. "Promise me you won't tell her?"

Silence. Then -

"I promise."

"T-thanks, Twilight."

The clop of Twilight's steady hoofsteps resumed, growing fainter as the Alicorn made her way into the bedroom above Scootaloo. Relief washed over her, and her final panicked notion resumed it's scrolling through her head like the last stretch of a film reel, her train of thought marvelously intact despite the conversation that quelled the very fear that had sparked it.

It’s no wonder her parents gave her up

She sighed deeply, gently resting her head upon the open book in front of her. Her head remained there for several minutes, unmoving until she heard Spike’s claws scampering in the room next to her. With a groan, she lifted her head up and decided to resume her futile search for a suitable holiday. Lowering her eyes to the page, she read the words;

Newborn Celebration Day

Summary: One of Equestria’s earliest celebrations, founded March 21st, 1BC98, Newborn Celebration Day was created by Princesses Celestia and Luna after the bitter winds and snow from the accursed Wendigos had claimed many lives prior to Equestria’s founding as a reminder for parents all across the land to cherish their young, and to be thankful for the miracle of life that their new homes allowed.

*See also, Hearth’s Warming Eve (p. 266), Cabinet of Seers (p.88), Grace & Gratitude Day (p. 202)

Continued on next page

Scootaloo read over the passage again. And again. The filly felt a strange sensation as she read the paragraph, something she couldn’t describe. It was as though she were hollow, trying to drink the words to fill her. It was like she was frustrated, deciphering an ink soaked finale to a riveting mystery novel. Above all, she was curious. Intensely curious. She wanted to know those paternal thoughts and words. She wanted to know what “link” could bring a mother and father to care for a helpless foal that costs so much time and energy.

And secretly, more than anything…

She wanted to know what could break it.

For the first time since she’d cracked open those books, she felt confident, exuberant even. She hadn't heard of this holiday before, and upon scanning the class sign-up roster, she saw that nopony else had either. Or at the very least, no one had chosen to present it. With satisfaction, she rested the cover down atop the rest of the pages, and hopped down from her seat. She scanned the walls, the few that weren’t covered by bookshelves for a clock of some sort. No sooner had she found one and read it, she heard Spike’s cough from kitchen, and turned to see the young dragon watching her.

“How’s it going?” He asked nonchalantly.

“It’s good, really good. I picked my holiday,” Scootaloo reported with excitement.

“You did? Which one did you pick?” Spike’s spikes stood on edge with enthusiasm.

“I went with uhh… Newborn Celebration Day.” Scootaloo’s answer faltered when she realized just how silly the announcement sounded. Spike evidently felt the same way.

“Newborn Celebration Day?” He repeated with confusion. “Not that it’s not a good choice, I’m sure it is! But it seems kinda…”

“Namby-Pamby?”

“…Yeah.”

“I literally flipped a book to a random page and landed on it,” Scootaloo said semi-truthfully.

“Ah! Gotcha! Sure beats poring through a whole bunch of boring books to find a topic, huh?”

“Definitely.” Scootaloo agreed.

“And uh… don’t tell Twilight what I said about poring through a bunch of books. She’s kinda sensitive about that sort of thing,” Spike requested nervously, peering to the top of the stairs to see if Twilight’s disapproving glare would meet him. Thankfully, it wasn’t.

“Your secret’s safe with me!” Scootaloo assured him. “Anyways, I’m about to head on out for the night. I didn’t want to disturb Princess Twilight upstairs, so I was wondering if you might be able to tell her for me later when she comes down?”

“Count on it.” Spike nodded happily. “Did you want to take those with you?” He asked pointing at the desk where the filly had been working.

“I’ll read them tomorrow.” Scootaloo dismissed with an almost frantic tone.

Spike burst into laughter, covering up his mouth with a claw. “Not the books – the cookies!”

“What?” Scootaloo looked confused, and then her eyes lit up. “Oh yeah! Absolutely!”

The dragon scampered over to the desk, stretching his short legs to grasp the plate above him with his claws. With a flourish, he presented it to the orange Pegasus, her purple mane bouncing excitedly as her mouth hung open.

“Tada! Here you go!”

“Awesome!” She clapped her hooves together happily before bending down to take the plate in her mouth. “MMwayf, ahm mmng gmf goimf,” she tried her best to speak with the dish in her mouth. Her message was clear to Spike, whom had probably had practice when trying to eat a meal and organize books at the same time as bouncing ideas back to Twilight.

“Alright, Scoots! See you tomorrow!”

“Mme you mmfrow!”

The bell above the door chimed, and Scootaloo found herself outside the door of the library. Without the sun, the autumn air was somewhat brisk, but that didn’t put a damper in Scootaloo’s trot. She placed the tray of cookies in the wagon behind her scooter, and quickly spurred the vehicle to life with the buzzing of her wings. As the image of the clock flashed through her mind from before she spoke with Spike, she raced off into the night.

Meanwhile at the library, faint voices could be heard inside. One was undoubtedly Twilight’s, asking where Scootaloo had gone at the prompting of the door’s bell. The other was Spike explaining that everything was alright, and that Scootaloo had indeed picked a holiday.

Then, the light on the second floor brightened again as Twilight returned to her bedroom – study, as she liked to refer to it. After several minutes of nothing but the sound of leaves rustling in the trees, there were three knocks sounding at the door.

Light washed over the figure in front of it as Spike opened the door with the accompanying chime, revealing the pony's identity to him.

“Miss Cheerilee?”

Maybe I'm Right

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Ponyville was a bizarre sight this time of night, at least during this time of year. Plenty of ponies walked the streets around the marketplace, still adamantly set on keeping to their spring and summer schedules. The same ponies that didn’t want to acknowledge the setting sun and rising moon slowly happening sooner and sooner. Without the aid of daylight, the stores and kiosks were not nearly as populous, but they still had their share of loyal followers. The darkness didn’t bother them, for one of the great things about Ponyville was how safe the city was, even during the twilight hours. At least, safe as far as intentions went. Accidents, on the other hoof…

“Sorry, mister!!” Scootaloo cried out behind her. She was not a stranger to riding the streets at night, but she was not used to a variety of ponies serving as obstacles along with the traditional signposts, fences, bumps, rocks, and buildings under the cover of darkness. Those things didn’t move, at least. The hours when she rode on this side of town on most nights dictated that those ponies that were shaking their hooves cantankerously at her now were generally fast asleep in their homes.

The sound of rubber wheels rolling across the cool hard dirt rang across the plaza. Only the ponies nearest to it would be able to hear the comparably faint humming of Scootaloo’s wings. But they would make sure that Scootaloo would be able to hear their cries.

“Watch where you’re going, kid!” Came a shout from a perplexed stallion that was very nearly collided into by the blue, orange, and purple blur.

She zipped past the newspaper kiosk, much faster than her first trip that day on her way to the library. The stallion from earlier had no doubt retreated to his home from to catch some sleep before he would return to the building adjacent to the stand to sell more papers in approximately six hours. Scootaloo knew this, because in approximately six hours, she would be meeting him there.

However, she had other goals in mind – the first being the precious cargo in the wagon behind her; Spike’s chocolate chip cookies. Though they had composed her sole meal during the day, they were so soft and flavorful that she couldn’t wait to taste them again and make another meal of them. She licked her lips at the thought, but they dried almost an instant later in light of the stiff breeze she was generating during her travels.

They would be the first thing she’d attend to once she opened the door to her home.

“Oh hello, Spike!” Cheerilee greeted the dragon silhouetted against the bright light from inside the open door to the library. “I’m sorry for calling at such a late hour, but is Princess Twilight Sparkle available? I’d really like to speak with her.”

Spike opened the door wider, triggering the bell that would no doubt have alerted the Alicorn upstairs that they had a visitor. “Sure thing!” He nodded brightly. “Come on in, I’ll go and fetch her from upstairs.”

Cheerilee stepped inside, the toll of the day’s events making themselves apparent under the revealing light from the library interior. It wasn’t the first time that Spike had seen swollen red eyes from a pony standing in the entry way of the library that day. The door closed behind her, and yet another ding sounded throughout the hollowed tree.

“I-I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” The earth pony asked nervously as Spike began to skip up the stairs. “I’ve heard that she doesn’t like to be interrupted during her studies.”

“Not at all!” Princess Twilight answered from the now open door to her bedroom. “I was actually just writing a letter to YOU, if you’ll believe it.”

“Oh my! Princess Twilight!” Cheerilee cried out, bending her forelegs so that she could bow down before the royal mare above her. Spike rolled his eyes, and walked back to the desk where he had been reading one of his comics.

Twilight glided down from the railing and walkway overlooking the main room, and landed in front of the kneeling teacher. “Please…” she insisted with a blush on her face as she returned the bow. “Just Twilight is fine. Besides… I'm pretty sure that you've done more for Ponyville being a teacher than I have for Ponyville being a princess.”

“Oh! Why – Why, thank you, your highness!” Cheerilee fumbled as she stood upright, clearly not convinced to address the Alicorn in front of her with anything but the highest level of formality. “I don’t quite know what to say to that – surely you jest!”

“Not at all,” Twilight encouraged as her wings folded along her sides. “Education is one of the most important things for the future of a young pony, if not the most important thing.”

“I um… well… thank you,” Cheerilee stammered, her deep red cheeks barely visible over her eggplant purple fur. “It’s really nothing…”

Twilight shook her head resolutely. “I hardly think so. From the little experience I have with the groups of schoolponies that come to work in here on occasion... Well, dealing with a room full of that on a daily basis can't really be constituted as nothing.”

The Earth pony scratched the back of her neck with one of her hooves. She looked to be doing her best to appear modest, but Twilight could tell that she enjoyed being recognized for her efforts. “Well… it certainly has its challenges at times. Which reminds me…” Cheerilee cleared her throat. “Did you by chance receive a letter today?”

Twilight sighed, a long and deep sigh. “…Yes. Apple Bloom gave it to me when she and the other Crusaders stopped by earlier.” She motioned to Spike, who had paused his reading at the mention of the letter. He nodded, and shuffled underneath the desk momentarily.

“That’s good.” Cheerilee eked a weak smile. “Not good about what happened, I mean. I meant that it’s good that they brought the letter to you. I was worried for a moment that they might… you know, try and keep Scootaloo from getting into more trouble.”

“I know what you mean,” Twilight said. “No, they brought it here shortly after one this afternoon.”

“That quickly?” Cheerilee expressed with some surprise, sliding the saddlebag she was wearing off from her back. “They couldn’t have even stopped for lunch at that rate from the time they had left.”

Spike trotted back to the two from behind the desk, with several pieces of paper in one of his claws. “With that speed, maybe they could try to earn their cutie marks in delivering mail? Of course, they’d have to be tall enough to reach the mailboxes first, heh.”

“…Steady, Scootaloo…”

The red wagon that she had tied to the back of her scooter not only made a great transport vehicle for Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, and it wasn’t just ideal for carrying an array of items, such as the ice pack and cookies that were currently residing in it. It was also the perfect height for Scootaloo to stand on to open the mailbox outside of her home. However, after years of use, the natural resistance that the wheels had possessed had all but vanished. The slightest shift in position would have the wagon following suit and rolling away without any regard for who or what would topple out of it.

Scootaloo reached upwards, wrapping her hoof around the curled handle molded to the front panel of the postbox. A foil to her wagon’s wheels, the hinges that connected the front panel with the rest of the container were obstinate, and required a reasonable exertion of force to open. She slowly began to pull on it, increasing the pressure ever so slightly to find the sweet spot without sending her careening off of the unstable platform below her, but still opening the mailbox.

“…Just…a little… bit… mo - WHOA!”

Unfortunately, Scootaloo had pulled just a bit too hard, and the shift in balance from her hind legs caused the wagon to roll away from in front of the mailbox and into the street behind her. Luckily for her, she had anticipated this. Her wings began to buzz frantically to keep her level and aloft – a trick she had learned from cracking her jaw on the stone ground below her a couple of times. With the mail box open, and the time before her wings would eventually stop supporting her body weight quickly draining, Scootaloo reached into the black hole of the container to feel around for anything inside of it that wasn’t cast aluminum.

Sure enough, she felt at least two envelopes inside. She had anticipated getting at least one this week, if the schedule were consistent. And as she’d surmised from the last several months, those letters in particular were like clockwork.

Scootaloo pressed her hoof to the floor of the mailbox, keeping the envelopes inside pinned between the two. The filly pulled the envelopes towards her. She didn’t have a solid grip on them, but as long as she had got the mail out, Scootaloo didn’t care. The envelopes fell to the ground, and Scootaloo came a second after, on all four hooves thankfully. In the darkness, she couldn’t read what the letters contained from the writing on the envelopes alone, so she simply scooped them up in her mouth and placed them in the back of the wagon along with the surprisingly still cold ice pack and likewise surprisingly still warm baked goods. She was so close to home that she simply walked the scooter and the attached wagon to the front of the house. Using her teeth, she undid the knot that kept the wagon fastened to her vehicle, and leaned the scooter against the one of two large stone pillars supporting the second floor bedroom above her that was jutting out from the rest of the house.

Though Scootaloo had vowed earlier that she’d eat the cookies as soon as she stepped inside, she left them in the wagon, more eager instead to see what the letters contained. She hopped up the front steps, opened the door, and stepped inside of her home. With one hoof, she felt along the wall for the light switch. After several seconds, and silent self-assurances that ‘it was RIGHT HERE, I know it’, there was a click and the room was illuminated.

Hoping that the two previous letters were both a fluke, she tore open the familiar looking brown envelope and spat the strip of brown paper on the dusty wooden floor. She shook the envelope vigorously, their contents slowly wriggling free into her waiting hoof.

“Ta-da!" Spike brandished the freshly retrieved papers in his claws, the red marking and letterhead revealing themselves to be the contents of Cheerilee's aforementioned letter.

“Excellent!" Twilight exclaimed. "Aren’t you always the proactive one, Spike? We were just talking about this – thanks!” She complimented the dragon, who took the praise as his dismissal to continue reading Power Ponies in: The Horse Whose Sand Grin Aids.

She quickly scanned the incident report again, the grin from Spike’s job well done wearing off as her eyes drifted down the sheet. “I’m just shocked… I can’t believe this,” she said aloud as she browsed the catalogue of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s behavior.

“I was just as surprised as you were, Twilight.” Cheerilee shook her head sadly. “I can’t believe that two of my students would go to such lengths to try and humiliate one of their peers. And Scootaloo…” The teacher’s voice was sorrowful, yet Twilight was certain that she could hear a tinge of disapproval.

Twilight lowered the sheet of paper to get a better look at the teacher. She looked tired, distraught, sad, and clearly uncomfortable. “What about Scootaloo?” Twilight pried.

Cheerilee shifted in place, glancing to the side. “I can’t believe that somepony so young could harbor such…”

“Such what?”

“I don’t know! Anger? Or Resentment? Or... Hatred.” Cheerilee’s own voice shook. “I thought I taught them better.”

“Miss Cheerilee!” Twilight exclaimed. “You can’t seriously be thinking this is your fault?”

“I don’t know what else to think!” The Earth pony cried back. “They spend five days a week, eight hours a day with me. How can I not be in some way responsible for this?”

“But what about when they aren’t in school?” Twilight reasoned. “You might be their teacher - and that’s no small feat, trust me - but you can’t mentor them when they aren’t in school. That’s their parent’s job, not yours.”

Cheerilee just sobbed. Twilight stood still, taken aback. She was trying to defuse the situation – and it seemed like it had just gotten worse.

“Do you know why I came by so late, Princess Twilight?” Cheerilee asked, her bright green eyes suddenly finding Twilight’s purple ones.

Twilight thought for a moment. Time had rolled by in such a hazy manner that afternoon after Scootaloo had arrived there that she had lost track of it completely. Taking a precious moment to break eye contact to glance at the clock to see the hour, a probable answer to the question still didn’t come.

“…No. Why?”

“I just spent five hours in the hospital,” Cheerilee announced. “I promised Diamond Tiara that I would wait there with her for her father to come.”

Twilight’s heart sank as she formulated the rest of the answer in her own mind.

“His own daughter was hospitalized… her muzzle broken… and he didn’t even show up,” the teacher spoke with a sobering clarity. “The hospital staff forced me and Silver Spoon to leave when visiting hours were over.”

The Alicorn was left a bit shell-shocked, and per usual for Twilight, she tried to rationalize things. “Maybe – maybe they couldn’t find him? Mr. Rich is a very busy pony, with those charities, real estate things, and managing his store on top of overseeing the chain-”

“No.”

“Oh… um…”

“One of his assistants brought her a ‘Get Well Soon’ card. He knew exactly where she was; Ponyville General Hospital, Room 206B.”

“That’s…”

“I know Diamond Tiara is used to getting her way,” Cheerilee continued in an unusually calm voice. “But when the nurse came and told us we had to leave, she-she didn’t-” She started choking, the calmness quickly eroding away. “A-and she was so mad at me too! After I - I asked her about how she treated Scootaloo and the Crusaders I had – I had – I had.”

“Calm down, Cheerilee! Take a deep breath, alright?”

Cheerilee inhaled sharply, desperate to finish as much of her account as she could before her shallow breaths gave way. “I had to suspend her for a week, s-same as Silver Spoon. When I assigned her and - and Silver Spoon a report on bullying in addition to that, I thought she was going to – going to…”

Finally, the Earth pony followed Twilight’s suggestion and breathed deeply.

“She was so angry with me. She didn’t like that I was punishing her for what she had done. But as we were walking out the door… She – She…” She breathed again, sensing another spell coming on.

“She started to cry.” Cheerilee finished. “It wasn’t just a cry for attention either, because I had to listen to several of those while I was there, and I knew what they sounded like. This one... I think she was genuinely sad to be left alone."

“Oh… Cheerilee.” Twilight rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sure it meant the world to her that you stayed as long as you did.”

“Don’t forget Silver Spoon also. Those two seem thick as thieves… and about as well behaved, despite my best intentions.” Cheerilee noted with disappointment.

Twilight glanced down at the letter on the floor, making a note of where and when the instances occurred. “This isn’t your fault, Cheerilee. A lot of these things that happened – you weren’t even there! How could you possibly have done anything about it?”

“I should have nipped in the bud,” Cheerilee said throatily. “That very first time I found Diamond Tiara making fun of Apple Bloom. When I was teaching about cutie marks, Diamond Tiara passed her a note when she knew I was looking.”

“What did it say?”

“Nothing.”

“Huh?”

“It was blank,” The teacher stated plainly. “As I walked away, I heard Diamond Tiara whisper to Apple Bloom ‘remind you of anypony?’”

Twilight moved in place uncomfortably, not sure of what to say.

“If I had done something those years ago, stopped it when it was just words, I think all of this could have been avoided.”

"You can't blame yourself for this, Cheerilee." Twilight assured her. "You're an outstanding teacher, but you can't hold yourself responsible for everything that happens to your students. As I said before, a lot of how a pony matures falls on what the parents do... or don't do, as the case may be."

Cheerilee sighed resignedly and made her way to the now vacated desk where Spike had been sitting - he had probably scampered off to read in private elsewhere. "I know that, Princess Twilight, but it doesn't make it any easier to sit back and watch the things I teach during the day go forgotten when the school bell rings. The ponies need their parents involved in their upbringing too, but that's something I can't enforce."

"What about parent-teacher meetings?" Twilight inquired. "Their whole purpose is to get the parents more involved with what their foals are learning. Isn't that why you requested a switch from a trimester based system to a quarterly one last year, so you'd have more of them?"

"Heh," Cheerilee laughed dryly. "That was one of the reasons, yes, but the parents would still need to attend for them mean anything."

"Diamond Tiara's parents don't even go to those?"

"Well, to be fair," Cheerilee started with a bit of hesitation. "Mr. Rich does make a good majority of the parent teacher conferences. Making an appointment like that must be easier for him when it's scheduled in advance and can be written on a calendar," she noted with a bitterness which didn't go unnoticed by Twilight. "Getting them to follow through off the clock is the issue. That initial attendance isn't... most of the time." She added.

"What do you mean most of the time?" Twilight tilted her head.

"Well, take Scootaloo for example. All the years I've been her teacher, I've not once actually seen her parents. The most we ever communicate is through permission slips and written correspondence."

To Mr./Mrs. Apple Belle and Sweetie Bloom

That was at the top of the letter Scootaloo had clutched in her hooves, but it wasn't the most noticeable thing on the sheet. Rather, the bright and foreboding warnings stamped in red ink stood out like the ominous red glow creeping through the gaps in a stack of heated coal. Their emboldened exclamations were creatively different, but they all bore the same meaning.

Unpaid. Past Due. Default.

"Nonononono..." Scootaloo whimpered as she continued to read the rest of the letter that was in normal typed font.

Our goal at FSR Realties is to give ponies and their families the means to live happily and comfortably with affordable housing options. Customer satisfaction is our watchword! We work closely with local lenders to personally arrange loans with the specific purpose of home ownership in an ongoing effort to remove any guesswork and the potentially high costs that come with traditional loans.

It has come to our attention that the account named FSR-PNYV-ABSB-0019354 is no longer current. Our records indicate that either no payment or insufficient payment for the period(s) of October 10C14 has been made. A detailed record of the account payment history is attached.

It is important to keep your account current. Failing to make payments may result in late fees, higher interest and annual percentage rates (APR). Continued failure to make payments may result in adverse legal action which may lead to additional fees and penalties or foreclosure of the property.

If you believe this notice to be sent in error, please provide record of sufficient payment to our claims department.

If the reason for delinquent payments is listed below;

UNEXPECTED MEDICAL EXPENSES
LOSS OF EMPLOYMENT
GOING THROUGH DIVORCE
TEMPORARY DISABILITY
DEATH IN FAMILY

You may qualify for one of the following relief programs;

* TRANSFER DEFAULT AMOUNT TO END OF MORTGAGE TERM
* CREATE A PAYMENT PLAN ACCORDING TO YOUR ABILITY TO RE-PAY.
* ADD THE DEFAULT AMOUNT TO THE PRINCIPLE
* LOWER YOUR INTEREST RATE AND MONTHLY PAYMENT

If you are unsure about whether or not you may qualify, or simply wish to discuss other details of your account, you may speak to one of our friendly and knowledgeable financial advisers for no cost. Other resources available are free financial readiness workshops, budget planning, homeowners' counseling services, and much more. For information about these and other great programs, please visit the FSR Realties facility nearest you.

Best regards,

William Statement, FSR Realties Collections Dep.

Scootaloo's hooves trembled, and the remnants of the letter fell down. There were at least two other pieces of paper layered underneath the page she had just read. As they fluttered down to the dust-covered floor of her entry way seemingly in slow motion, she could see fragments and figments of bright red ink dancing within the rows of black font.

That couldn't be right. Couldn't possibly be right.

When Princess Twilight had made the comment about her and her friends wanting to grow up so quickly, Scootaloo couldn't have agreed more as far as she herself was concerned. For well over a year, Scootaloo (or rather, the strangely named yet entirely fictitious Apple Belle and Sweetie Bloom) had been making payments each month on this house. It was a dicey procedure, to be sure - no one in their right mind would give a school age filly the license to do so, which is what prompted Scootaloo to create the two ponies that would eventually send a letter to FSR Realties. Sweetie Bloom and Apple Belle, two business ponies who were investing in a home to stay in with their daughter, but were too busy to make a meeting face-to-face with any real estate agents properly.

Scootaloo had little issue with calling Diamond Tiara manipulative, playing on the perceptions and feelings that older ponies had of an average filly to get her way, but truthfully, Scootaloo could not in good conscience deny that she too had a manipulative streak. With each letter delivered to the post office box she had rented from prospective agents that was pleading for a proper meeting to arrange paperwork, Scootaloo had written from the perspective of her "parents" - begging for a chance to give her daughter a place to call home, somewhere that she could grow up with more stability than a constantly changing hotel room, or an apartment echoing with the cries of sleepless fillies. Yet neither Apple Belle nor Sweetie Bloom would be able to make a meeting with their hectic schedules taking them out of town and leaving their poor daughter Scootaloo alone. She always made sure she used her name when describing the daughter. Finally, somepony with a bleeding heart on the other end of the stamps relented, and agreed to arrange the entire process through the postage. After all, as long as they got paid, what was the problem?

Each story she told had a grain of truth behind it, some more than others. For while Scootaloo did have a roof over her head before this one, she would never refer to it as a home. As Scootaloo continued to work her paper routes in the morning to save every bit she could for the eventual down payments, a gradually thickening pile of paperwork grew beneath her bed - or rather, the bed she slept in; the only thing that was truly hers where she lived was her scooter. All of these documents outlined the proceedings, from the potential homes available checked against the budget of the two ponies, to negotiating the monthly payments and combined utilities. She had signed so many forms with those false names that on more than one occasion, she had signed her name in school as Apple Belle!

In one month, Scootaloo made around 60 bits as a paperfilly. She was worried that the amount would seem low for two super busy business ponies who were constantly away from home, but thankfully, Ponyville was among one of the most affordable places to live in all of Equestria, and after many months of haggling, the down payment was settled on at a staggering 600 bits, followed by monthly payments of around 50 per month. For almost a year since she devised the plan and began saving, she always kept in mind that she could cancel the deal if her current living situation changed and she would have over 600 bits to spend with her new family.

It never did.

In the spring of last year, Scootaloo became a homeowner at the age of 12 years old. She sent an Equestrian Union bit-gram to FSR Realties, and in two-to-five business days, her supporting paperwork and the key to her home arrived.

Every month that followed, immediately after she earned her bag of bits from her boss at the Ponyville Times, Edit Oriole, she would send another bit-gram to FSR Realties. She didn't receive any visits and never received a single letter indicating that anything was amiss. After the first three months, her paranoia and anxiety passed. For almost a year and a half, she paid her 50 bits each month, and had enough left over that she could eventually buy the amenities to make the house she lived in feel like a home. Scootaloo wondered if Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle gave credence to how much a refrigerator cost. Nevertheless, things were going quite swimmingly.

Until last month. Her high from the flag-waving ceremony came to a crashing halt when she found a note pinned to the door that her payment of 50 bits was not sufficient. Scootaloo dug through the string of letters that she had become complacent enough to not even open, and discovered that for the month of October, she had to come up with a whopping 200 bits - four times the amount that was agreed upon.

That couldn't be right. Couldn't possibly be right.

Scootaloo bent down, sliding the top page off of the other two. She caught a glimpse of the words "Monthly Statement" on top of the next page, and squeezed her eyes shut. Breathing heavily, she braced herself for what it would say.

"You've got the 200 bits, Scoots... You're going to be just fine."

She opened her eyes, and they slowly scanned the matrix of red and black on the page below.

Amount Due - Make payments payable to 'FSR Realties'

Monthly Payment for the Period of 11/10C14

200 B

"Again? Why is it so high?"

Payment Due from Period of 10/10C14

150 B

"What? That's... no."

Late fees and penalties

80 B

"..."

Total Amount due by 12/15/10C14

430 B

Scootaloo stared at the grid, watching it grow blurry as it swam before her in a teary haze.

"No... This can't be happening... No....No... NO!"

Scootaloo whipped the letter through the air. As lightweight as it was, it simply floated through the air, the breeze from the still open door catching it and blowing it right back to her. She gnashed her teeth, fumbled for the letter as it slipped from her hoof's heavy groping. Unsatisfied, anger coursing through her, she reached for the nearest thing that she could vent her frustration on - the open door. She reeled back, bringing the wooden door with her before she threw it forward and slammed it shut with all of her might. With a deafening bang,it bounced out of the frame again, colliding with the wall behind it and leaving a dent where the handle smashed into it.

"NO! STUPID DOOR! STUPID LETTER! STUPID - " Words failed her, and she simply uttered a guttural scream, the short burst of extreme volume causing her throat to burn. She dove at the billing statement, the displaced air from her landing sending it sailing away from her once more. Scootaloo pounded at the floor in frustration, pain shooting through her hooves. But she didn't stop. Her tantrum resumed as she continued to writhe on the floor, still unable to form anything more than a distraught vocalization.

Scootaloo twisted and rolled on to her back, her wings beating helplessly against the floor. She hammered her elbows against the wood in frustrated agony. Her head lifted as much as it could, her short mane catching taut underneath her firmly pinned shoulders, and she jerked it back against the floor again. Her skull itself burned, the headache that was alleviated by Princess Twilight's ice pack returning in it's full and unrelenting force. It was making her nauseous.

"What am I going to do? I can't - I can't make this! Why is this happening to me? What's wrong with these ponies? What's wrong with me? WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?"

As she lay on the floor of her entryway, her anger gave way through the shallow panicked breaths she gasped, and was replaced by the somber feeling of hopelessness. It was one that was all too familiar - the very same that drove her to finding a home for herself to begin with.

"Hi! I'm Scootaloo!"

"It's so good to meet you, Scootaloo! How are you doing today?"

"I'm doing great, thanks! I'm about to head outside and start practicing on my scooter - d'you wanna watch?"

"A scooter? You seem a little bit big for a scooter!"

"Nu-uh! It's super fun! I can go really fast, and do all sorts of tricks! I'm gonna be a Wonderbolt with it one day!"

"A Wonderbolt, you say? Don't the Wonderbolts do tricks while flying?"

"Yeah, but I get so much air, it's like I'm flying!"

"Hahahaha! A future Wonderbolt, what do you think, dear?"

"It sounds kind of dangerous for such a little thing!"

"I'm not little, I'm ten years old!"

"See? Nonsense! And look, she has a helmet!"

"Yeah! See?"

"Do you wear that while you're flying too?"

"Well... I can't fly. Yet! I'm going to be able to real soon, just watch!"

"Oh... and you said you were ten?"

"Yup! So did you want to come see me do some tricks on my scooter or what? It'll be fun, promise!"

"Perhaps later, Scootaloo. We're going to go speak to some of your brothers and sisters first, alright?"

"Oh... okay!"

Scootaloo watched as the Earth pony couple quickly strode away, towards the next bed over where a small pink unicorn filly was resting on the pillow, a math book propped open in front of her.

"Hi there, little one! What's your name?"

Scootaloo sighed, gripping her helmet in her hooves, and slowly made her way to the door to go outside. She could tell from the look on their faces when they uttered the word "Oh" that they weren't interested in her. It was one of the many cues and nuances she had picked up on in the last couple of years during her stay at Warm Stables Orphanage.

Scootaloo continued down the hall towards the staircase to go outside. She still planned on using her scooter. Perhaps the couple would look down from the window, see her awesome moves and daring spirit, and be convinced to take Scootaloo home with them. As the Pegasus approached the polished banister forming the top of the railing along the stairs, she heard a series of voices from the lobby below. She recognized the voices as those that belonged to the volunteers and caretakers. She paid them no mind, until she heard one of them mention her name. She froze, ears twitching to make sure they hadn't been deceived. To get a closer look, and to hear better, she inched her way along the hallway, poking her head out just enough to see who was talking. She couldn't see them over the stairs, but their voices were no longer obstructed.

"So?"

"I don't think so. These two looked... like a quiet couple. Scootaloo's much too rambunctious for them."

"Oh, come now! Any prospective adoptive parents worth their salt should be expecting a bit of energy from a colt or filly!"

"Maybe, but there's energy, and then there's Scootaloo. Always blazing around on that wheelamagig."

"Her scooter, as you well know. You bought it for her!"

"I did no such thing! I would never buy such a dreadful contraption. I thought that Miss Farmer picked it up for her."

A third voice entered the conversation.

"As if! I've told you before, it showed up one Christmas with her name on it. We already did an inquiry, none of the staff are supposed to spend that kind of money on a gift."

"Right, right... how many years ago was that now? Three?"

"Five."

"Scootaloo's been here... five years?"

"Almost nine, actually."

"Nine years? And no one has adopted her?"

"Nope... Pegasi unfortunately have a more difficult time getting placed."

"Why is that?"

"For one, most of the folk in Ponyville are ground walkers - Earth ponies and Unicorns, I mean. I don't think parents much like the thought of not being able to catch their youngsters when they simply decide to fly away from them."

"That can't be the reason why..."

"It's one of them."

"Not like they'd have to worry about that with Scootaloo, heh."

"Miss Farmer!"

"What? It's true. It's not like she can fly."

"Come now, she's just a late bloomer. Look at Sunny Skies! She couldn't do magic until she was almost 12."

"Apples to oranges. Unicorns aren't expected to be able to do magic until they hit puberty. Pegasus learn to fly before they hit six years of age."

"There are always exceptions."

"Yeah, but look at her wings. The rest of her is growing, but they haven't changed size in years."

"Maybe... but I can't believe that even if she can't fly - yet - that nopony has seen fit to at least give her a chance. She's a very sweet filly."

"I don't really see her chances getting too much better, unfortunately."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be daft, Mrs. Days. Everypony knows that the older a pony gets, the harder time they have getting placed."

"She's right. The closer they get to being rebellious teenagers, the less ideal they look to prospective parents."

"That's not fair! It's not like it's her fault. You two make the foals sound like products on a store shelf!"

"Fair or not, that's the way it is. Ponies don't want old or damaged goods."

"That's... huh?"

Scootaloo's purple helmet bounced down the carpeted staircase, punctuated by a loud dull thump until it reached the foyer, where it came to a stop after colliding with the wall.

"Scootaloo! What have I told you about your toys?"

Scootaloo winced, and slowly revealed herself from around the corner where she had been hiding. From here, she could see the three ponies that had been speaking all staring at her as though she had thrown the helmet at them instead.

"Sorry, Miss Farmer. It slipped."

"Well... do try to be more careful. What are you doing out here anyways? You know that we have two ponies looking to adopt making the rounds today, right?"

Scootaloo nodded slowly.

"I know. I was just going to go outside and play on my scooter."

Miss Farmer pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Today of all days? How are you supposed to be considered for adoption if you're gallivanting about outside on that thing?"

Scootaloo stepped down the stairs slowly, each hoof fall quietly thumping along the carpet.

"I don't think they seemed too interested in me," she mumbled.

Miss Farmer made no attempt to argue, but one of the other ponies (Mrs. Days, from the voice) offered cheerfully.

"Don't worry, Scootaloo. You'll be the next one!"

Scootaloo reached the bottom of the stairs, lifting her helmet on her head and affixing the chin strap. Her eyes watering, she stepped out the front door without so much as a word.

Scootaloo would never forget the stinging disappointment she had met with time and again when couples like the one from that day walked away from her. She would never forget the stabbing jealousy when one of her friends from the orphanage broke out in a wide smile as their new parents told her they were taking her home. Scootaloo didn't hear the parents say it most of the time, but when that familiar "happiest-moment-of-their-life" grin lined the filly or colt's face, she knew. She felt terrible about it each and every time, knowing full well that she should have been happy for her friends, but the gnawing voice at the back of her mind always asking "Why couldn't it be me?"

From that day forth, Scootaloo resigned herself to the possibility that she would never walk out of those halls with that same grin on her face, bouncing excitedly in front of her equally excited parents on their way to her new home. Deep down, of course she still wanted to be a part of a family - to have somepony to turn to when she was sad or hurt, and somepony to love her even if her she made a mistake, and to have that same somepony be unafraid to tell her so. But after ten years of the vicious cycle of hope and rejection, disappointment and jealousy, Scootaloo gave up on that silly dream. She instead sought to prove that she didn't need to wait for a family to finally have a home of her own. She didn't need anypony else to make her happy! Well, that wasn't entirely true.

She had her friends. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both were the light of her life, and soon after meeting them, she spent almost every free moment she could with them. They were a different brand of friends than the ones she made in the orphanage. There was no silent competition between the three of them, vying for the affections of potential adopters, and no eventual goodbyes on the horizon. She was perfectly content to live in the moment with them, and forget all of her insecurities and woes that waited for her when she returned to Warm Stables. Perhaps that was why she decided to keep the fact that she was orphaned a secret from them.

Scootaloo knew that they wouldn't think badly of her for it - they were too good and understanding. But one thing that she valued so much about her time with them is that they could all speak freely. Scootaloo listened raptly when Sweetie Belle complained about her parents grounding her for some silly antic in her quest to earn a cutie mark, and they could all share a laugh after Apple Bloom told of her novice applebucking misadventures with Applejack and Big Mac. Family was important to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and if the mention that Scootaloo had none to call her own would possibly threaten to change that atmosphere, to bring pause whenever Sweetie Belle or Apple Bloom would mention their own families... Scootaloo thought it ironic, and more than a little selfish on her behalf, that the best way of preserving the "no secrets between us" pact they shared was to keep a secret from the others. If she could avoid the dreaded, wordless, secretive sideways glances from her two best friends that had perturbed her so much in the school restroom earlier that day, she would.

Her closeness with them is no doubt what had inspired Scootaloo to use a variation of their names to pay for the house. Not only for that, but filed away within the cabinets at Warm Stables' record keeping, the parents who signed their names on Scootaloo's adoption formed were also named Sweetie Bloom and Apple Belle. It was just as well - they were the closest thing she had to family.

Leaving the orphanage was surprisingly easy, but it was mostly a matter of opportunity. Scootaloo had got her hooves on a copy of the adoption paperwork and filled it out with the appropriate details. It was then a matter of waiting for what she and the other colts and fillies in the orphanage referred to as "thinkers". These were the parents who came to Warm Stables with intent to adopt, but "needed more time to think about which one to take home with them." Whenever this happened, one of the staff would give them the adoption paperwork to fill out in advance with all of their information, so that upon their next visit, they could simply make their selection, write the lucky pony's name on the top of the sheet, and walk out. If Scootaloo had to guess, it was to minimize any guilt or doubt on the parent's behalf for choosing one foal over another as they filled out the paperwork while they were still in the orphanage.

As soon as the final payment arrangements had been made for her new home, Scootaloo needed only to wait for the next "thinkers" to come through. She had learned how they would act when they couldn't make a choice - they spent a good chunk of time with each of the ponies they met, and remained non-committal throughout. As the confused and emotionally conflicted parents met with their representative expressing their inability to choose, they would leave with the aforementioned papers in tow, Scootaloo lay in wait outside on the swings, watching the thinkers continue down the road. Then, she would wait some more - there needed to be a believable span for those papers to be filled out, after all. Fifteen minutes later, Scootaloo burst inside in her best imitation of an excited frenzy that she could muster. She bolted to Miss Farmer's desk, shoving her own adoption forms in the surprised caretakers muzzle, announcing repeatedly that she would finally be going home.

"I'm going home!" Scootaloo cried happily. "Miss Farmer, I'm going home!"

"What's going on, Scootaloo?" Miss Farmer looked up from the book she was reading, her eyebrows

"Those ponies who where just here - Mr. Bloom, and Mrs. Belle - they spoke to me outside."

A grin spread across the older mare's face. "And?"

"We talked for a bit, and they - they said they wanted me to come home with them!

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

"Yeah! The filled out the paperwork and everything!" Scootaloo brandished the stapled forms in front of her, allowing Miss Farmer to take it with her own hoof. "I'm going to go and pack my things! This is so exciting, I can't believe it. I'm going home!"

"I knew you'd be chosen someday, Scootaloo." Miss Farmer expressed with a rare warmth.

"Me too! But I've gotta go, I don't want them to keep them waiting - we're going to get some ice cream!"

Scootaloo hastened to the door of Miss Farmer's office, sweating bullets and eager to leave before Miss Farmer felt an inkling to go outside and congratulate the "parents" on their choice. She'd had the sense to pack the few belongings she owned already - they were already waiting for her outside by the swing set. She just needed to walk out the front door, and -

"Scootaloo."

Miss Farmer was quickly flipping through the packet of forms, and she stopped. Scootaloo turned around slowly, adrenaline coursing through her. Was there a problem? Did she miss a signature somewhere? She couldn't have made a mistake, she couldn't have.

"...Yes?" She answered nervously.

"We're going to miss you. Congratulations, and enjoy your new home."

Scootaloo exhaled with relief. "Thank you, Miss Farmer. I'll... I'll miss you too."

"Run along now, dear. You don't want to keep your parents or your... ice cream waiting."

"Yes, ma'am."

Scootaloo closed the office door behind her, trembling with excitement. She made her way banister of the stairwell, the door still ajar from when she had burst through earlier. She stepped outside, not bothering to close the door to the orphanage proper. She stepped to the scooter by the swings, her belongings stacked neatly in the wagon tied to it.

She didn't bother with putting her helmet on. She simply hopped on her scooter, her wings jolting her forwards, and she rolled down the sidewalk outside of Warm Stables for what she prayed would be the very last time.

Scootaloo kept an eye on the papers she delivered to see if any inquiries had been made concerning the fictional ponies that had adopted her. She wondered what Miss Farmer would say when the "thinkers" returned days later to actually make an adoption, but with the papers claiming that they were no longer responsible for her neatly signed and filed, Warm Stables seemed content to let her go. Likewise, she was glad to be free from there. As she lay on the ground of her home, Scootaloo made a mental note that she would rather be homeless than subject to that vicious cycle again. But she hadn't come so far to be defeated by what was most assuredly an accounting error.

With a groan, she lifted herself off of the floor. Her head throbbed. The Pegasus stood up on all four hooves, and walked hastily through the open door. The cool autumn air was like a soothing balm for her overheated body. Scootaloo inhaled deeply, trotting to the wagon where she lifted the ice pack to her forehead - she flinched from the rush of cold, but held fast as relief washed over her pulsing headache.

"What to do... what to do..."

Though she didn't qualify for any of the prescribed reasons on the letter she read, she (or rather, her "parents") was certainly going to send a letter to them, inquiring why her monthly payments had quadrupled. In the meantime, she would continue working tirelessly as she had done all last month to raise as many bits as she could - with the jobs Scootaloo had taken on, she had enough to cover one of the inflated months. She had almost forgotten that she wasn't to be attending school for the next two weeks, which would be a perfect opportunity to get the extra hours in at work. Failing that, Scootaloo wouldn't be opposed to selling some of her possessions and valuables. She had a signed copy of Sapphire Shores' Zigfilly Follies that she could easily fetch a good number of bits for, as much as it pained her to think of parting with it. The CD had been, after all, a gift from Sweetie Belle and Rarity.

"Everything's going to be just fine..." she told herself with a raspy voice as she took the plate of cookies in her mouth. Their decadent scent wafted to her nostrils, but the filly had all but lost the appetite she had for them at the moment. She started back inside, noting that the door opened noticeably easier after her outburst against it. She set the cookies on the counter in her small kitchen, making a note of the time from the clock above the sink. Scootaloo had half an hour before her shift started, but she didn't feel like waiting around to worry or stew over that bill. Setting the ice pack in the freezer that she had purchased only a few months ago, she held the door aloft to allow yet another cool burst of air to caress her face.

Her helmet seemed tighter than usual as she snapped the chinstrap closed. She gently closed the door behind her, untied the wagon from her scooter, and started off into the night. Though the house she left had never seemed more empty, it was still hers, and it was still home. She was determined to keep it that way.

Blue Collar Mare (Long Nights)

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As Scootaloo traversed the streets of Ponyville, she found herself doubling through the marketplace again. Making her way towards the array of restaurants, she passed by the Golden Oaks library once more. The glowing lights inside indicated that the mare was still awake, and Scootaloo's thoughts drifted to how she might have been spending her evening. Scootaloo remembered that the princess had gone upstairs to write a letter to Cheerilee. Scootaloo rounded a corner, the library passing out of sight behind her, and she couldn't help but wonder if Twilight had avoided mentioning her plight in her correspondance like she promised. The pegasus shook her head, the rushing blood bringing with it another stinging throb. Twilight had better things to do, she mused, then to spend an evening waxing her woes, especially with her teacher.

"I had actually just come from her residence before stopping here," Cheerilee explained.

"You just came from there? You didn't see Scootaloo on your way over?" Twilight asked curiously.

"No..." Cheerilee said slowly, trying to discern what Twilight was implying. "Why would I have?"

"Scootaloo spent the rest of the day with me after dropping the letter off here." Twilight told her. "She only just left about ten minutes before you arrived. I'm surprised you didn't cross paths. Why did you go to see her?"

"It wasn't for her, necessarily. I mean, I wanted to make sure she was alright, of course, but I mainly wanted to speak with her parents."

"And?"

"And the usual. Apple Spice and Sweet Blossoms are still just names on a letter." Cheerilee couldn't hide her disappointment.

"Oh... well, I can assure you that Scootaloo was safe and sound here. What did you uh," Twilight pried. "What did you need speak to her parents about?"

"A number of things, actually. Obviously, there's the matter of her behavior today." She pointed at the letter. "But there's more than that. Scootaloo's academic performance has been suffering, and her demeanor on the whole has been... distressing, to say the least."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, take this holiday project. I don't know if you're aware, but she hadn't completed an ounce of work on it when she came to school today."

"I was, actually." Twilight piped up. "She's going to be working on it this weekend with me. Already picked a holiday for it, in fact."

"Did she now?" The Earth pony rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Well, that's certainly a step in the right direction. It seems that after the flag waving trials, she has completely neglected her studies. She seems content to avoid class participation when she used to be such a lively contributor, and I've had to wake her up on several occasions during class. I can't help but wonder if maybe Rainbow Dash and her... feelings about education are rubbing off on her."

"I very much doubt that Rainbow Dash would express that, especially to Scootaloo. " Twilight told her hastily. "But, I'll speak to her about it tomorrow,"

"This is the next point I was getting to - you shouldn't need to do that!"

"I don't think I understand."

"You're a princess, your highness." Cheerilee stated simply. "It should not take royal intervention to convince a filly to do her schoolwork. It's like we made mention of with Diamond Tiara... that's what her parents should be doing."

"Oh."

"I - I didn't mean to offend, of course. I'm just saying..."

"No, I understand." The Alicorn nodded. "But I think that exceptions need to be granted at times. It might be strange for a princess to help somepony with schoolwork, but isn't it equally strange for a teacher to wait in a hospital with one of her students for four hours?"

"...five hours." Cheerilee grinned sheepishly.

"Exactly." Twilight did her best to avoid sounding smug. "I'll ask her about how things are going for her at school tomorrow, alright?"

"Do you think she'd really open up about it, though?" Cheerilee expressed with doubt. "She insisted that everything was perfectly normal when I asked her a few weeks ago."

"I think she might be more receptive. Scootaloo and I had a long talk today, and she really - wait!"

"What?"

"I... promised her that I wouldn't talk about it with... anypony else," Twilight said. She didn't mention that it was specifically Cheerilee that Scootaloo had asked for Twilight's silence with.

"Not even with me?" The concern in her voice was mixed with a hopeful tinge.

"Sorry..."

"Ah... well... if you're going to see her tomorrow, could you give something to her for me?" Cheerilee asked, rising from her seat and walking towards the saddlebag she left by the door. Her purple hoof lifted the buckle, and from the satchel she withdrew a small envelope.

"Another letter?" Twilight noted.

"This one is for her parents." Cheerilee explained as the made her way back to the Alicorn. "It's a standard suspension notification slip. I forgot to give these to Scootaloo, Silver Spoon, and Diamond Tiara today." She set the yellow envelope on the desk. "They just need to sign it and return it to me."

"I'll make sure she gets it." Twilight told her. "Hey, Spike made some cookies today. I know it's probably against your health and nutrition teachings to make a meal out of sugary snacks... but they are soooo good. Did you want to grab a bite?"

"ORDER UP!"

Even from behind the restaurant, Scootaloo could hear the proud bellowing of her boss, and head chef of Olive's Garden, announcing that another dish had been completed. The orange pegasus hopped off of her scooter, and walked it behind one of the large green dumpsters. She leaned it carefully against the container, out of sight from most who would pass by from the street. Satisfied, she unsnapped her helmet, and proceeded through the door labeled "Employees Only".

Upon opening the door, she was greeted with the scintillating scents of various pastas and sauces. Immediately to her left, she made her way into the locker room. Finding her locker, 324, she placed her helmet on the shelf, and gently closed it. The clock on the wall indicated that she was twenty minutes early, but she wanted to speak to her boss before the shift started anyways.

Out of the locker room, she navigated the hallways of Olive's Garden towards the kitchen, following the voice demanding "More rosemary, less thyme!" The metal door had a single round window on it, with no handle to speak of - a simple push from Scootaloo revealed the kitchen to her, and the amplified sounds of hissing, clanging, stirring, and every other sound she had grown to associate with a pasta cookery.

"Where's the filling? Ponies want ravioli, not pasta pillows with a single shredded cheese feather!"

Evie Olive, or simply Olive as he preferred to be called, was taking his usual spot overseeing preparation of the various dishes. He had a slick black mane that clashed against what he referred to as his "olive pit yellow" coat. His cutie mark was that of a sauce pan, but Scootaloo couldn't get a clear glimpse of it on account of his constant bustling. On slower nights, he would opt to cook the dishes himself if the time allowed, but he seemed to thrive as a manager and teacher.

"Excuse me kid, but this is for employees only!" Barked a sharp voice from behind the filly. Scootaloo jumped and spun in the air, turning to face the annoyed countenance of a waiter glowering at her from the doorway. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave, or at least get out of the way."

"I - uh - I'm Scootaloo." the filly introduced herself, using her hoof to nervously wipe her mane down. "And I am an employ-"

"What's going on here? Trouble?" The bellowing sound of Mr. Olive was directed at the two. Scootaloo heard his shuffling hooves from behind her. "Ah! Mister Dee, I see you've met Scootaloo, our premiere dishwasher."

"Oh - yes... I was just introducing myself." The flustered waiter grumbled.

"Well, I don't pay you to speak to the staff - the customers! The customers, my dear boy!" Mr. Olive laughed jovially, waving his hoof to dismiss the stallion. The waiter slipped past the two, making his way to the line of finished dishes on the counter. The chef watched him with an exaggeratedly raised eyebrow, and then turned to look at the dumbfounded Scootaloo.

"Scootaloo! So good to see you again - goodness me, are you alright?"

"I uh... er, what?"

"Your forehead! Have you been scrapping? How's the other pony look - far worse for wear, I don't doubt!"

"Oh..." Scootaloo rubbed her temple gingerly. "No, I just er... fell."

"Well, I was quite the scrapper in my day. But that's neither here nor there - you're early!"

"I actually was hoping to speak with you, sir. About my hours." Scootaloo began nervously.

"Alright, but make it quick - we're very busy this evening. A big school project finished up, I gather, and we've got a whole bunch of families celebrating by showering their foals in spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce!" Mr. Olive cried excitedly.

"Ookay... I actually have some school work I need to do tomorrow, and I know it's short notice, but could I have the day off?" Scootaloo plead.

"You already have the day off tomorrow!"

Scootaloo shook her head. "That can't be right - I know I had a shift tomorrow,"

"Well, not here you don't." He repeated. "Maybe it's that other place you mentioned - Mr. Rich's place."

"Barnyard Bargains!" Scootaloo exclaimed. "I got the two confused. Sorry about the mixup, sir."

"I'm too young to be called 'sir', if you please!" Mr. Olive laughed. "Pony your age shouldn't be worrying about jobs anyhow - you should be spending your weekend with friends, having fun, not fretting about work."

"About that..." Scootaloo chuckled nervously, her raspy voice cracking. "Do you suppose I could pick up some extra hours during the next few weeks? During the day?"

"During the day?" Mr. Olive raised his eyebrow at the filly. "What about this 'school' you need to be doing that 'work' for tomorrow?"

"It's a long story..." She sighed exasperatedly.

"Well, time is of the essence. I'll put you in for some hours, certainly, but not over 40, and not on Wednesday."

"Why not?"

"Time! I can't legally have you work more than 40 hours in a week, and we'll be closed on Wednesday for the Running of the Leaves. What good is lasagna for removing foliage? Time check!" He shouted over his shoulder. "That's stir fry, not stir deep fried!"

"Thank you very much!" Scootaloo bounced excitedly. "You have no idea how much this means to me! I - I'll just get to the sink, start washing those dishes, alright?"

"Right, right..." Mr. Olive mumbled distractedly as he trotted back to the ovens. "Why is this ravioli leaking cheese? Appearances are half the meal, everypony!"

Scootaloo grinned and made her way back out of the door. Mr. Olive was certainly a bit eccentric, but he was a very flexible and responsive manager. The filly traveled to the industrial size sink that was filled with soapy water, stood on her stool, and submerged her hooves in the warm water, ready to wash the dishes that came through until close. She stifled a yawn, grateful for the short nap she had taken at Twilight's library, but the young Pegasus was still quite exhausted. Still, her mind quieted a little knowing that she'd be constructively spending the next two weeks to help clear up her bills. It had been a long day, and she couldn't wait for it to be over.

"It's been a long day for me, Princess Twilight." Cheerilee politely declined. "Spike's cookies, delicious though I'm sure they are, would probably just serve to keep me awake. No offense to him, of course."

"None taken!" Spike shouted from the kitchen. "More for me!"

"I hadn't thought of that." Twilight admitted. "I might pass on them too, in that case." She raised her voice. "And somepony - or some...dragon else might want to consider that before they're bouncing off the walls tonight!"

"Well... in any case." Cheerilee giggled. "I'm glad we were able to touch base. Though, there's still the matter of my bullying presentation I'd like to discuss with you."

"Oh yes!" Twilight's face lit up. "I'm glad you brought that up. You have my full and wholehearted permission to go ahead with it."

"But you haven't even heard what I was going to do!"

"Because I know it's going to be great. Unless, you have concerns?"

"There are some," Cheerilee admitted."I had planned on implementing it on Monday."

"Monday? This Monday?" Why so soon?"

"I wanted to do it while this incident was still fresh in their minds. And also, while... the most affected are going to be absent. I don't want to put them on the spot, necessarily."

"Makes sense to me." Twilight agreed. "What exactly was the presentation going to consist of, if you don't mind me asking?"

Cheerilee paused for a moment to gather her words. "An overview from me, first. Explaining how poor treatment from your peers and teasing can be just as bad as fighting and hitting. And then..." She paused again, looking uncomfortable.

"Something the matter?" The Alicorn asked with concern.

"I wanted to ask the class to share their thoughts. Maybe some of our students could speak of their experiences with bullying and harassment, if they felt comfortable."

"That's a good idea, Miss Cheerilee, but..."

"I know it's going to be difficult, and I know that some of our students won't be entirely comfortable with it. I want to stress that there won't be any fear of reprisal, but I know there's going to be reluctance."

"...Yeah, that." Twilight remembered how harrowing of an experience it was for Scootaloo to speak of her treatment, and that was without the eyes of her friends and classmates watching her.

"I don't expect a lot of them to speak up, but if I can get at least get the class to think - just to think about how bullying might be affecting them and their classmates, ponies that they actually know... That's half the battle right there, right?"

Twilight nodded her head solemnly.

"In any case." Cheerilee cleared her throat. "I'll be getting out of your mane, your highness." Cheerilee wrestled her saddlebag over her flank, the buckle still undone from when she had opened it earlier. "Thank you so much for your time."

"Of course!" Twilight replied. "Feel free to stop by anytime, it's always good to speak with you outside of meetings."

"Yes, well... have a good evening, princess Twilight." The bell rang above the door as it opened. "Oh, one quick question about Scootaloo before I go?"

"Certainly."

"Her holiday... which holiday did she choose?"

Twilight stifled a laugh, the nature of the conversation she shared and it's ironies not lost on her. "It was... Newborn Celebration Day."

"Really." Cheerilee stated. It was not a question, but an observation. "How curious."

"Indeed."

Cheerilee's pink and white tail vanished into the night, and the door closed behind it. Twilight uttered a long yawn, smacking her lips together several times at it's conclusion. Cheerilee was right - it had been a long day. Twilight turned to the kitchen to let Spike know that she would be heading to sleep upstairs and to ask him to keep it down. Instead, she found Spike sitting at the kitchen table, his face firmly planted in his Power Ponies comic, snoring.

"Wake up, Scootaloo!"

"I-bruh-m'wake - huh?" Scootaloo's head jerked up from the edge of the sink, and her hooves burst forth from the pale water, the soap suds all but vanished from it's surface.

"We're closing up shop. Just in time too, from the bags under your eyes," Mr. Olive announced to her, rubbing his hoof on her shoulder. "Here, let me help you with that." A bright yellow glow surrounded the dark green dishrag that Scootaloo had hung over the faucet.

"Mr. Olive! I'm sorry - I just closed my eyes for a second - I didn't mean to - here, let me finish up!" Scootaloo reached in the air, the rag lifting itself further out of reach at the whim of Mr. Olive's horn and magic.

"Scootaloo..."

"Please, I - I insist! It's my job after all, and I-"

"Scootaloo..." The Unicorn's voice was calmer and quieter than usual. "Your job now is to go home and get some sleep, alright, kiddo?"

"But I still have ten minutes left on my shift!"

"And you came in 20 minutes early. I'll close everything out, okay? It's my... restaurant, after all."

Scootaloo wanted to argue, to show her boss that in spite of her falling asleep at the tail end of her shift, she still had dignity and the work ethic enough to wash the dishes she was supposed to. But as much as she hated to admit it, she loved the thought of crawling into her warm bed as soon possible just a little bit more, and his encouragement had her stepping down from her stool with a sigh.

"When's your next shift, Scootaloo?"

"Sunday night."

"I'll have the week's hours for you by then," Mr. Olive told her. "You're... sure about the day shifts? School and everything?"

"Yeah," Scootaloo mumbled. "It' won't be a problem."

"If you say so. Now run along, catch some shut-eye. I'll see you on Sunday night."

"Thank you, sir."

"Not a problem, kiddo. Now, get moving! Don't make me use my magic to lift you out of here!"

In a purple glow, Spike's snoring, limp figure slowly lowered into his plushy bed. Twilight's magic coaxed his blue blanket over him, stopping at the shoulders, and tucking it underneath his sides. Spike didn't stir once. Her horn flaring again, Twilight heard the click of the light switches turning off, and the room was swallowed by darkness.

Her horn illuminated just enough for her to see as the checked the front door, ensuring that it was locked. Satisfied with the result, the Alicorn turned around and made her way up the stairs to go tuck in her own bed.

Scootaloo's hooves dragged on the stairs - they felt as though they were made of lead. As she reached the top, she walked down the short hallway past the closed doors - the doors that she always had closed - and pushed open the door to the room that she treasured most.

While the rest of the house was plain, not decorated or furnished, her room was a different story. Though she couldn't see them in the dark, the walls had posters aplenty lining them. On the dresser, she had pictures of her and her friends, and pictures of her and Rainbow Dash. Next to the big frame bearing the cyan Pegasus' likeness (with a signature, no less!), she had what she considered one of the most valuable investments she had ever made - an alarm clock.

From memory, she tapped the buttons to set the alarm for the usual time when she had her early morning paper route. 3:00 a.m. That was a little over two and a half hours from now, and Scootaloo made sure not to waste any time in devoting all of it to resting her tired body.

No sooner than her head had hit the Wonderbolts pillow, Scootaloo was fast asleep. Not even the worries of her uncertain future could keep her awake tonight.

Make This Go On Forever

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Scootaloo stifled a yawn, the breeze from her forward motion coaxing her mouth open. It turned a simple declaration of sleepiness into a coughing fit, one that threatened to knock her from her scooter. Slowing down just enough to get her bearings and to cough up the last of the irritation, she carried on through the town square en route to her destination. She rounded around the curvature of the fountain, a light spray of its drizzle tickling her humming feathers as she passed.

It was later than she had liked that morning when she made her way to Twilight's library. Scootaloo finished her paper delivery before sun up, silently having wished that the sun had risen already - the autumn air grew more and more chilled as the month of November had finished. After checking back with her boss, Mr. Oriole, and exchanging only a light smattering of conversation, she made her way across town to Barnyard Bargains. Though the night shift manager was not responsible for Scootaloo's shift later that morning, and was tired and irritable to boot, she left the young pegasus with an assurance that her shift would be covered that day. In return, Scootaloo agreed she would cover that pony's Monday morning shift - not a problem since she wasn't going to be in school anyways. Relieved, she retreated back to her home for a quick nap that lasted longer than she had anticipated.

With some of the cookies from last night in her stomach, and her body and mind rested from her extended slumber, Scootaloo was ready to begin her project with a level of enthusiasm that surprised even her - she never really looked forward to school work, least of all long and involved projects. Scootaloo expected that her energy would rapidly fade after she set hoof in the library in front of her, but at the very least, she would try to capitalize on it while she still felt motivated.

Her scooter leaning against the wooden tree, Scootaloo unstrapped her helmet, slung it over the handlebars, and trotted to the library's green door. Gently pushing against it, she heard that bell ring once again, announcing her presence. Using her shoulder to prop the door open, she peeked inside, half expecting to see if Princess Twilight was waiting there with a levitating stack of books by which to simultaneously greet and terrify her. Instead, the princess was nowhere to be seen, and the library appeared totally empty aside from Spike manning his post at the main desk.

"Hey, Scootaloo!" Spike called over to her, beckoning to her with a waving claw. "Come on in!"

Scootaloo nodded her head, stepping inside as the door gently closed behind her accompanied by a soft tinkle from the bell above it.

"Morning, Spi-iiii-" Scootaloo tried to return the greeting, the yawn she stifled from before once again forcing its way through her open mouth.

"Good morning to you too," Spike giggled, the gist of the message evidently not lost on him. "Still waking up, huh?"

"Yeah," Scootaloo admitted. "I think that nap yesterday messed up my normal sleep schedule."

"At least you're awake," Spike grinned broadly. "Twilight's still sleeping upstairs."

"Still?" Scootaloo asked incredulously. She had felt guilty for indulging in extra rest when she had explicitly taken the day off to devote to school work, but suddenly felt less uneasy knowing that even a princess of Equestria took an opportunity to sleep in on occasion.

"I know, right?" Spike asked, acknowledging the look of disbelief on the filly's face. "She's usually up at the crack of dawn, earlier than that this time of year."

Scootaloo nodded once more, hardly surprised given what she'd heard about Twilight's sometimes obsessive behavior regarding timeliness and keeping a schedule. "Can't blame her though, can you? I mean, you know what it's like when you don't want to get out from under those warm blankets!"

"Oh yeah!" Spike agreed with an eager flourish, no doubt gladdened that someone else appreciated the comfort of a warm bed as much as he did. "I don't know if Twilight thinks that way though, at least when it comes to sleeping. One time she overslept, and she went on and on about how she wouldn't sleep if she didn't need to. Think of all the things we could accomplish if we didn't need a minimum of six hours of sleep a night!" Spike imitated in his best effeminate falsetto.

"Do you really think I sound like that?"

The dragon's spikes stood stiff and rigid as he heard the voice of the pony that he had just emulated from the top of the stairs behind him. Scootaloo brought a hoof to her mouth, snickering madly as Spike about-faced to meet the accusatory glare of the alicorn princess above him.

"I - um, well, er..."

Twilight's eyebrow raised and she clicked her tongue. "I'm waiting," she said tauntingly. Scootaloo watched as Spike brought a claw to the back of his head, scratching it nervously as though trying to coax out a plausible explanation to appease her.

"Uh... Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?" he answered meekly, rubbing his arm embarrassedly with the realization of just how lame it sounded.

The alicorn's eyes narrowed, squinting at the dragon's squirming form. "Flattery, huh?"

Spike nodded his head slowly, offering a large toothy grin to the princess. "Uh-huh!"

Slyly, Twilight grinned just a little bit more, looking down at the dragon sweating bullets below her, Scootaloo trying (and succeeding less and less) to control her laughter. "I suppose I should be flattered then," she laughed brightly as Spike breathed a deep sigh of relief, apparently realizing Twilight's pseudo-seriousness was a mild joke. "In my defense, we really could do a lot more with an extra six hours a day," she continued. "But I agree that it's hard to deny the appeal of dozing off underneath a warm blanket. I probably would have stayed up there longer if I hadn't heard you come in, Scootaloo."

Scootaloo's laughter subsided as soon as she heard what almost sounded like an accusation. "I didn't mean to interrupt," she apologized. "If you like, I can come back later, I'll just need to borrow the books and-"

"Nonsense." Twilight shook her head, stepping towards the main desk where the copy of Times and Traditions lay from last night's perusal. "I was waiting for you so we could get started."

"Oh, alright then," Scootaloo said. "I guess it's not such a bad thing I got here later than I had planned to then, huh?"

"Not in the slightest," Twilight smiled warmly to the filly. "Now then, I guess we won't be needing this particular book since you chose your holiday last night, correct?" She levitated Times and Traditions in the air with her telltale purple glow, directing it to the triangular gap in the bookshelves where Spike had removed it the night prior.

Scootaloo nodded quickly, recalling with a hint of embarrassment the holiday she had chosen. "Mhm," she mumbled quietly, hoping vainly that Princess Twilight wouldn't ask her which holiday it was. How would she be able to help with research if Twilight didn't know which holiday to be researching? The thing is, Scootaloo didn't quite know how she would explain her rather sentimental choice to the alicorn, having vetoed several of the mare's suggestions on account of the holidays presented being too "sappy". No sooner than when the thought crossed her mind, Twilight fulfilled Scootaloo's expectations.

"Which holiday was it again?"

Scootaloo silently gulped. "It was um..." She stalled, trying to make her choice seem like a casual one that she could hardly care enough about to bother remembering, though her brain was screaming 'Newborn Celebration Day' over and over with crystalline clarity.

"Hm?"

A small, cynical, yet very familiar voice in the back of her head suggested that Twilight already knew and was merely waiting for Scootaloo to admit her odd decision so that she could poke fun of the "lame, boring" choice that she had made. She quickly silenced the voice, knowing full well from last night's counselling session that Twilight would not be so unkind as to mock her selection.

"I think it was... Newborn Celebration Day," Scootaloo blurted hastily, still doing her best to sound as non-committal as she could. She found herself staring at the bookshelves to her immediate left with what she hoped appeared to be great interest. Supernatural Superserious: A Collection of Documented and Unexplained Phenomena was one such title. She couldn't help but notice that despite it's claim to be scientific in nature, it was placed under the "Fiction" section.

"Newborn Celebration Day?"

And there it was. Scootaloo could tell from Twilight's tone of voice that it wasn't a question of clarification. It was instead a tone of amused surprise, like the momentarily stifled voice of distrust inside her had anticipated. As much as she tried to stop it, she could feel her cheeks warming under Twilight's intent stare.

Scootaloo replied with a nonchalant "Yup." The End of The Righteous was another title, sitting alongside Southern Stories: An Apocalyptic Collage. What a foreboding series. Both of the works were written by the same author, an aptly named Dreary Deviser. That chaotic and destructive subject matter, however, would likely have been ones that Twilight would have guessed to be an aspect of Scootaloo's holiday.

"Isn't that one a little bit... tame? I thought you were trying to avoid the 'namby pamby' holidays," Twilight asked with deliberate emphasis on the descriptor that Scootaloo herself had uttered with disdain the night before.

The Way It Was, The Way It Will Be by P. F. Visions. Scootaloo tried to fathom a guess at what this book was about in between juggling potential excuses to present to the princess' question.

"Yeah, I just kind of er... flipped to it and whatever, you know?" Scootaloo answered meekly, the sound of her words fading almost as soon as they left her.

"Hm," Twilight noted with an infuriating lack of any interpretative inflection for Scootaloo.

What was the princess thinking right now? Was the alicorn silently mocking her? Why would she be making fun of Scootaloo having chosen Newborn Celebration Day? Did it really seem so strange that a pony deprived of parents, might, just maybe, want to know how it felt to be celebrated by them?

"Well, at any rate, I'm glad you chose one. I'll find some reference materials to get us started," Twilight finished brightly, turning towards the bookshelf labeled Holidays/Observances under the non-fiction section, which was comparatively larger than the fiction section that Scootaloo had been distracting herself with.

It was then that Scootaloo remembered that, in all of the tearful admissions of the things that ailed her on the princess' bedspread, Scootaloo never alluded to the princess that she didn't actually have parents. At least, not in the sense that Scootaloo meant.

Spike pushed his seat away from the desk, offering him enough room to slip down the chair and towards Twilight. "Just a second, Twi. Let me get those for you - Newborn Celebration Day, right?" His insistence was highlighted by the rather abrupt manner by which he muscled himself between the alicorn's front legs and the bookshelf.

"Certainly, Twilight would, in her objectively correct manner, insist that 'everypony has parents!' and then proceed to write a scientifically sound document complete with references explaining why yours abandoned you. All in that bright and cheery manner she just used!" There was that voice again, the resentful and disparaging one that Scootaloo had listened to uninterrupted for the last decade.

"I appreciate the offer, Spike, but if there's one thing I can do well, it's find a book in a library," Twilight laughed as she stepped back from the shelf, a glowing volume following her from high above.

"Oh... right." Spike's cheeks grew the mildest shade of pink as he looked to the floor, wearing a dejected look upon his face.

Imagine Scootaloo's surprise when the night before, when that voice was preparing her to be thrown out of the library with an insistence that a majestic princess who had done more for Equestria in the last three years than Scootaloo had done her entire life, didn't deserve to deal with such trifling matters such as "hurt feelings". Imagine her surprise when instead, Twilight spoke with a voice of her own.

"But, I know something that you can do! Something that I, no matter how many books I seem to read on the subject, will never be as talented at." The praise that Twilight doled out instantly soothed Spike's damaged ego.

"Uh huh?" Spike asked with an unfettered eagerness.

The voice that Twilight used was something that Scootaloo wasn't used to when she conversed with most adults growing up - a quiet and comforting tone, devoid of that condescending guile that the prospective parents and staff at Warm Stables had fed to her. And the words that Twilight spoke were so different, so radically, exponentially, and marvelously different, than what Scootaloo's inner dialogues had told her as the years of being passed over had gone by.

The book landed on the desk where Spike had just been sitting, and as soon as the purple glow faded around it, Twilight satisfied the dragon's request. "Do you think you could maybe make a nice brunch for Scootaloo and me? I actually haven't eaten since your cookies yesterday, and I'm certain that a growing filly like Scootaloo is probably hungry too."

Spike offered his best salute, standing as straight and tall as his short legs would allow. "Yes, ma'am! Do you think chocolate chip pancakes with maple syrup and apple butter would be good? With some eggs?"

The words she spoke were contrary to what Scootaloo had been telling herself, and had even expressed aloud to Twilight yesterday. Even when she heard Twilight say them, Scootaloo had to ask again just to be sure.

"That sounds fantastic!" Twilight clapped her hooves together excitedly. "What do you think, Scootaloo? How does a late breakfast to go with our research sound to you?"

With just a quiet nod for an answer, Scootaloo, and that voice inside of her, responded in kind with silence. Scootaloo smiled as she remembered the warmth and reassurance that she felt when Twilight comforted her, her wing acting as a shield from the cold, harsh, whirlwind of perceptions that Scootaloo had come to accept as reality. Each moment in that cocoon, the idea that Twilight crafted with a simple utterance brimming with such an honest and powerful conviction created a magnificent warmth that washed over her. The idea that maybe, just maybe -

I'm Not Worthless

"Scootaloo?"

Scootaloo had felt relief, a relief so intense that it actually hurt. But curled up in the embrace of Twilight Sparkle's wing, it didn't hurt at all. She just felt a comfort that she had never known before. And Scootaloo, a pony well-practiced in the art of deception, both as a practitioner and as a recipient, detected not a single trace of dishonesty. Scootaloo had heard all of the time that "you'll be adopted next!" and "you're a wonderful filly!" from all sorts of ponies. Yet, when Twilight had told her something that the pegasus had doubted for the longest time, she believed it. It was no wonder she wanted to research this holiday - to understand the acceptance, trust, and love that endures innately between a pony and it's foal, even when the foal wasn't perfect and couldn't fly...

Just the thought of it burned such a sense of longing into Scootaloo. Imagine if last night's blissful moments under Twilight's wing could happen again. What if, whenever she needed to, Scootaloo could hide away and take refuge alongside an accepting, trusting, and loving parent?

"That would be perfect."

Her own voice pulling her from her daze, Scootaloo looked upwards away from P.F. Vision's book in the fiction shelf, and found herself staring at Spike and Princess Twilight, both of whom were staring right back.

"Is everything okay?" Twilight asked, sounding unusually alarmed.

"I er - what? Yeah, everything's fine..." Scootaloo replied cautiously, shaking her head rapidly to further pull herself out the trance she had been lost in. When everything settled, she bore witness to Spike giggling madly as he strode past the filly making his way to kitchen.

"You must really love chocolate chip pancakes!" His laughter grew faint as the dragon vanished around the corner, with a series of bangs from various cookware replacing it.

"Chocolate chip pancakes!?" The haziness of Scootaloo's focus had all but vanished, and she looked with surprised excitement at the alicorn still in the room with her. Twilight looked annoyingly at the source of the clanging, and then looked back to Scootaloo with a familiar softer expression.

"...Yeah, Spike's making breakfast," Twilight answered. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course!" Scootaloo nodded happily, both eager to begin researching and eating, in seemingly equal measure.

Twilight cocked her head and gazed thoughtfully at the young pegasus before her. "Well... alright. We can begin whenever you're ready, the book's right here." The princess made her way around the desk where the research book had been placed in front of the chair. She was tall enough that she didn't need one.

However, now Scootaloo was concerned by the odd behavior being displayed before her, following Twilight to the desk. "Princess Twilight, is something wrong?"

"Just Twilight," the alicorn corrected. "And I was hoping you could tell me."

"What do you mean?" Scootaloo asked, leaping into the wooden chair that Spike had been sitting at. Once she landed, Scootaloo offered a surprised yip when she felt Twilight's hoof gently run itself down her cheek.

"I was just wondering why you were crying, that's all. Everything okay?"

Scootaloo froze in place, mortified.

"I... um..." Her face grew unbearably hot, and Scootaloo was glad that Twilight was behind her and couldn't see the deep blush. Although, Scootaloo would much rather have shown a flushed face as opposed to teary eyes.

"I... really... like chocolate chip pancakes..." Scootaloo mumbled weakly, looking down at her hooves in the seat below. Twilight's hoof ran along her other cheek, and this time Scootaloo was acutely aware of the moisture being wiped away.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Scootaloo didn't even offer a nod, and kept her eyes pointed straight down.

"Just as long as you know..." Twilight whispered. "Are you ready to start, or do you maybe want to eat first?" There was no pretense or impatience in the question from what Scootaloo could tell, just concern. Scootaloo took a deep breath, and exhaled, looking up to the book in front of her: Life Itself - A Celebration.

"I'm ready."

State of Love and Trust

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Scootaloo had to keep reminding herself to slow her pace while eating her brunch. But when the food on offer was as delicious as Spike's chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs, drowning in a decadent maple syrup and melted apple butter sauce, it was a trying task indeed. She watched Twilight use her magic to neatly cut perfectly proportioned pieces and then levitate it towards her mouth, all without spilling a single drop of the syrup, and Scootaloo felt all the more self-conscious of her comparably ravenous style. She could feel some of the syrup that had evidently escaped to her chin begin to cool and solidify, and flashbacks of some of her more tree sap laden crusades an through her mind. Scootaloo slowly reached past the sweating glass of milk to her napkin, taking care not to draw attention to the fact that she was a total slob in front of a princess.

"Haha, wow!" Spike chuckled as Scootaloo stopped moving completely, like a foal caught with it's hoof in the cookie jar. "You really do love chocolate chip pancakes!"

Twilight giggled at the petrified Scootaloo from across the table, gesturing to her own chin with a hoof. Scootaloo smiled in return, relieved that the princess simply thought her barbaric eating habits amusing, and resumed her motion to grab the napkin and wipe off her face.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Scootaloo admitted as she wiped her chin with the napkin, discovering that her hooves were sticky as well despite her use of utensils. "Of course, it's hard to stop myself when the food is this good! I haven't had a breakfast like this in ages, and these-" she gestured to the pancakes loaded with a myriad of melted chocolate chips. "These are awesome! Nice job, Spike!"

"Woo-hoo!" Spike raised his fist in the air in excitement, and then held it aloft towards Scootaloo. "Fist... er, hoof bump for good food!"

Scootaloo laughed and shook her head. "Sticky hooves," she gestured to the napkin stuck on her hoof.

"Not like it's that hard to make something taste good when you load it with chocolate chips," Twilight joked, earning an annoyed glare from Spike. "I hope the sugar crash isn't too much from these. We've still got a lot of work to do, Scootaloo, even after that great start."

"You and your sugar crashes, Twi! I eat sweets all the time, and it never happens to me!" Spike hopped down from the chair, lifting his empty plate from the table to carry it to the sink. Underneath where the plate just rested, Scootaloo noticed, was a Power Ponies comic.

"Power Ponies? I love the Power Ponies!" Scootaloo gushed, sitting up to examine which issue it was from the cover, to see if she had read it yet.

"Another fan? Here," Twilight remarked as she used her magic to lift the comic book towards Scootaloo. "Spike has almost every one of them, and multiples of a bunch of them. They're the same, but with a different cover!"

"That's comic books for you," Scootaloo replied from behind the glowing pink issue. "There was a pony in the bed next to mine who used to lend me them all of the time."

The comic book suddenly lifted itself higher, revealing behind it Princess Twilight, sitting across the table wearing a raised eyebrow.

"Bed?" she asked, setting the comic back at Spike's place at the table.

Scootaloo paused for a moment, and realized her slip of the tongue. "Did I say bed? I meant to say uhh... desk! Yeah, a desk like, at school. I am still sort of tired, guess I was thinking about a bed, huh?" she laughed nervously.

Twilight looked over her carefully for a second and then offered an exasperated sigh. "See, Spike?" She turned to look at the dragon who was drying his claws with a towel. "She's already crashing!"

"Crashing?" Spike clambered back into his seat. "She hasn't even had that supposed 'sugar rush' yet!"

"What do you mean by 'supposed'..."

As she drank a sizable swig of her ice-cold milk, Scootaloo thought to herself that because of the cookies she ate before coming over, she already would have had said sugar rush. As Twilight and Spike continued to stubbornly argue, she decided to keep that particular tidbit a secret. Scootaloo had inadvertently hinted about her normal breakfast routine, or lack thereof, already, and she didn't want Twilight to press the issue. Seeing how Twilight was about to present a grand lecture to Spike about the hazards of consuming sweets, Scootaloo thought it best that she steered clear of that also.

"...Okay then, but I'm a dragon!" Spike said. "I don't think there's proof that sugar affects us the same way it affects ponies!"

"Proof?" Twilight asked, rapping her hoof on the Power Ponies comic in front of Spike. "After having nothing but your cookies for dinner last night, I found you snoring face down in this not one minute after Cheerilee left!"

Both Spike and Twilight immediately stopped their squabble and turned to observe Scootaloo coughing violently, the glass of milk in her hoof falling to the kitchen floor, before it was swiftly caught by Twilight's nigh-reflexive levitation magic.

"You alright, Scoots?" Spike asked as he wiped up some of the milk that had sprayed onto the tabletop with one of his spare napkins.

Scootaloo pushed away Spike's claw, determined to clean up the mess she made on her own. "Here, let -" she coughed again, covering her mouth this time. "Ahem... let me. Sorry about that, the milk must have gone down the wrong pipe..." The embarrassed filly wiped up the errant drops of liquid from the wooden table, and as soon as she mopped up the last one, Spike offered to take the mildly damp towel from her hoof.

"I'll take that," Spike insisted. "Need to take the garbage out anyways," he added as soon as Scootaloo was just about refuse the dragon waiting on her.

"Oh... thanks," she mumbled as she surrendered the napkin into Spike's waiting claw.

Spike leaned close to Scootaloo's folded ears and whispered "No, thank you! We'd still be arguing if you hadn't broken it up!"

Scootaloo quickly turned to face Spike, and he answered her gaze with a sly grin. The pegasus returned the smile, and, evidently satisfied, Spike departed from the room. She laughed softly, returning to finish what little was left of her meal. And then, across the table, she saw Twilight staring at her. Scootaloo's eyes quickly darted down to look at her mushy chocolate pancake goop. After a few seconds, she slowly raised her head to peek at Twilight - only to see the alicorn's dark purple eyes fixed upon her. Scootaloo began to panic.

"I'm uh... I'm really sorry about the milk, Your Highness. I-I know it's exp-"

"I didn't tell her anything."

"Huh?"

"Cheerilee. I didn't tell her anything."

Scootaloo's gaze had lowered once again. She had hoped that she could have passed off the mishap with her drink as just that - a mishap. Twilight, however, seemed to see right through it.

"I um... I didn't think that..." Scootaloo muttered meekly, poking at her food with her fork.

"I told you I wasn't going to say anything to her," Twilight continued, once again succinctly puncturing Scootaloo's falsehood. "And even when she asked, I didn't say a word."

"She asked?" Scootaloo said, abandoning the pretense of concealing her worry.

Twilight nodded, her horn glowing as it lifted her empty plate towards the sink. "Yes, she did."

"And you didn't say anything to her?"

"No, Scootaloo, I didn't say anything to her."

Scootaloo's eyes narrowed as the young pegasus squinted at the princess, analyzing her. Twilight's eyes didn't shift, and her hooves were firmly planted on the tabletop. Scootaloo was both relieved and annoyed at the portrayal of honesty in front of her. Either Twilight was being completely truthful, or she was lying and Scootaloo couldn't tell. Though Scootaloo wanted so much to believe her, there was this tiny, irrevocable part of her that nagged at her.

"What are you thinking about?"

"What?" Scootaloo shook her head fiercely.

"You seem so distracted this morning," Twilight explained. "Back in the library, and now this." The handle to the water faucet to Scootaloo's left squeaked ever so slightly as it turned, and water began spilling out into the sink. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Scootaloo expelled quickly. "I'm just tired, that's all."

Twilight squinted back at Scootaloo in a way that the filly recognized. It was the same kind of look that Scootaloo had just used to analyze the princess' answer for deception. Of course, Scootaloo had much more than just a month long lack of sleep that occupied her thoughts, but it was still true. She hoped that it would be true enough to pass Twilight's inspection.

The alicorn exhaled slowly, and the water stopped flowing from the sink. "You can trust me, Scootaloo. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Why not?" Scootaloo blurted.

"I don't... I don't understand," Twilight said with confusion. "Why not what?"

"Why wouldn't you lie to me?" Scootaloo asked bluntly.

"That doesn't make sense. Why would I lie to you?"

"To make me feel better," Scootaloo answered. "To not hurt my feelings." She could feel her eyes starting to water, and she forcefully stuffed the remainder of her chocolate pancake glop into her mouth as if to try and dam it. "Pretty obvious, I think."

The princess looked dejected, almost hurt, and Scootaloo couldn't help but feel a little remorseful for how brazenly she had put it, as if she was insulting Twilight's intelligence. For all the conceptions (and misconceptions) Scootaloo had towards the alicorn since she had moved to Ponyville and subsequently joining Equestrian royalty, intelligence was one thing that she had never doubted concerning Twilight.

"I didn't - I didn't mean anything by that. I'm sorry, Princess Twilight," Scootaloo said shakily to apologize.

Twilight's eyes closed, and she kept them closed for a moment while she took a deep breath.

"...Just Twilight, Scootaloo," she spoke softly and with a profound calmness. "Just Twilight."

Scootaloo cocked her head to the right worriedly. What was running through that busy mind of hers? Scootaloo flashed back to the same thoughts of various punishment that Twilight could enforce when Scootaloo was first visiting the library - banishment, torture, other such horrendous things. Twilight probably attributed Scootaloo's initial outburst as a result of her anger, but such rudeness while being a guest at a wonderfully prepared breakfast, on top of chewing up the princess' weekend with help on a trifling school project? The only word that came to mind was "inexcusable."

"Look, Twilight, please just - just forget I said anything! I didn't mean-" Scootaloo plead from across the table, sliding her plate out of the way, pushing her hooves together as if to beg.

"It's alright, Scootaloo," she said as her eyes opened once more, gazing intently at the filly in front of her.

Scootaloo removed her hooves from the surface of the wooden table, where they hung flaccid at her sides. She didn't know what to say or do next.

"I don't know where you got the idea that I would do that to you, and I'm sorry that you feel that way," Twilight whispered. "But I want to assure you that I would never betray your trust like that."

"...But why?" Scootaloo looked back at her wistfully. "It'd be so easy for you to simply tell me what you think I want to hear, to just lie to my face."

The plate in front of Scootaloo levitated in a magenta colored aura, floating across the kitchen before slowly descending into the sink with a quiet plop. Her gaze settled upon the sink to her left, and she held it there.

"And what exactly was it that you wanted to hear?" Twilight asked softly.

Scootaloo's muzzle burned as she felt a tear forming in her eye once more. Her eyes moved slowly from the sink back to the purple alicorn.

"I don't know," she answered throatily. "I just don't know."

Much to Scootaloo's surprise, Twilight stood up, the chair scraping the floor as it was pushed away from the table. Her hooves prodded across the floor quietly, following alongside the edge of the table, and Scootaloo watched with fear as Twilight stopped in front of her.

"I promised you that I wouldn't say anything to Cheerilee about what you told me," Twilight said, resting her hoof on the back of Scootaloo's chair. "And I didn't."

Scootaloo didn't say a word.

"One of the things I've learned since being here is that trust doesn't come easily, and it's very, very difficult to earn again once you lose it. For that reason, I do my absolute best to be as honest as possible - to everypony. So when I tell you that I promise not to lie or be dishonest to placate you, I would hope that you'd believe it."

Scootaloo looked up at Twilight, her lower lip quivering. "What does... what does placate mean?"

Twilight eked the faintest hint of a smile. "In this case, it means I won't tell you what I think you want to hear."

The pegasus' sat in the chair, her thoughts seemingly ricocheting as they bounced around her skull. That lingering doubt wanted so much to spread, to prove that Twilight was just like every other adult pony that wanted to "help". Yet, she couldn't find a single reason why Twilight would lie to her, and found no evidence to prove that she had. Even after lashing out at her, Twilight remained steadfast in her unnaturally altruistic attempt to help Scootaloo. It didn't make any sense!

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Scootaloo asked, her voice devoid of the cynicism from before, replaced by a genuine desperation to learn.

"You'll need what every new friendship needs before it can be allowed to fully grow. Faith, Scootaloo. You'll just have to trust me," Twilight said, bringing her hoof down from the back of the chair to the kitchen floor.

"Faith..." Scootaloo mouthed silently.

"Ask Applejack what it took for me to trust her, to recognize her as the Element of Honesty," Twilight added with a smile. "Because believe you me, I know it can be hard to do."

Scootaloo simply nodded.

"Now then," Twilight cleared her throat, her wings flaring seemingly involuntarily for a moment before settling along her sides. "I promised that I would help you with your schoolwork, and I intend to do just that. We've already got a great outline of several interesting points down, so what do you say we finish the rest of it and start putting the project together?"

Scootaloo rotated in her seat, her legs coiling up as she prepared to bounce to the floor. "That sounds like a great idea," she said enthusiastically, glad that the frankly uncomfortable conversation was over and done with. However, she found herself halted by the sudden appearance of a purple, feathery barrier next to the chair.

Twilight's wing fell down to her side again after Scootaloo had ceased moving.

"...After you finish your milk," Twilight motioned towards the glass with her head.

Some Origins of Fire

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While many ponies were thrilled that the storm brought forth from the Wendigos and the shared racial conflicts had come to a conclusion, there were others who still felt trapped in an endless winter. With the different kinds of ponies divided by mistrust and anger, and the snow separating the rest, it wasn't uncommon to hear stories of parents whose foals had succumbed to illness, hunger, or simply the harsh conditions.

Though there was little that could be done to console the grieving parents, it lent new perspective for the rest of the newly formed Equestria that family, particularly that the connection between parent and foal, was absolutely precious and deserved to be recognized. On March 21st, in the year of 1BC98, Newborn Celebration Day was declared an official holiday, exemplifying that indeed, life itself is worthy of a celebration.

-Opening passage of "Life Itself: A Celebration."

She had to admit, when Scootaloo had chosen Newborn Celebration Day, she was expecting an overly sentimental and boring holiday that consisted of parents coddling their foals on a day in a way that was not dissimilar to how a birthday would be celebrated. Instead, she discovered a holiday that was filled with curious intricacies that even Twilight Sparkle did not even know.

Though the census systems in modern times are much more integrated and generally considered more efficient, centuries following the implementation of Newborn Celebration Day had a more regimented approach to their calculation. On Newborn Celebration Day, many towns and villages would gather at the town center, and with appropriate fanfare announce the added population brought forth from the new additions to families. Though they were not celebrated, additional settlers that had made their home within the settlements were also added to the registry at this time.

"...Census calculation, page 14," Scootaloo mumbled as she scribbled the factoid onto the scratch paper that held the outline of her project. On any other given project, she would simply have tried to remember it to place on the presentable piece later, but such an approach was deemed unacceptable by her current tutor.

"It's important to keep track of everything you think will be important. You never know when you may need to call back upon it," Twilight explained as she thrust the paper and quill towards Scootaloo. The pegasus was reluctant at first, but relented when she realized that without Twilight, she wouldn't be able to even do her project. She didn't have any of the materials to decorate the poster, or even the posterboard itself. On top of that, Twilight had promised to help with her schoolwork, and Scootaloo was more than ready to recognize that Twilight was probably much more knowledgeable about the best way to complete a presentation, and that following her lead was the best choice.

The history of foal showers is often the subject of vast debate. Many speculate that the tradition of bestowing gifts and supplies to parents originated as part of the Newborn Celebration Day festivities, while others insist that the practice was exercised independently on a case-by-case basis even before the holiday was created. While documentation indicates that a large annual foal shower was indeed held on Newborn Celebration Day to accommodate the 11 month gestation period, the earliest record of an individual foal shower was the widely publicized scandal of a wealthy mare throwing a foal shower that both her husband and lover attended, each claiming ownership of both the foal and the family fortune in the year 1CE04. Both sides seem to support their respective theories - the smaller, tight-knit communities of that era often shared the responsibility of raising one of their youth, so the notion that an entire community would contribute to a foal shower is not out of the realm of possibility. However, the ponies who often led more private lives and preferred to avoid townsfolk (some would argue that post-unification discrimination played a part) were still shown to have held foal showers within a circle of close friends and family around this time. It is, however, universally agreed upon that foal showers are an integral aspect to Newborn Celebration Day's history.

"You know, I guess I never thought about where foal showers actually come from," Twilight mused as her magic enveloped a pair of scissors. The blades tore through a sheet of light blue construction paper in a perfectly straight, perfectly measured line. "But now," she added as the the 12 by 12 inch square detached from the rest of the sheet. "Now, I know!" She levitated the paper onto the poster board, the edges flush.

"Same here," Scootaloo said as she flipped through the pages, looking for another section with bold letterhead. Perhaps she was just unlucky, but the pages she glimpsed all bore the same, medium-small text. Scootaloo didn't really think much about foal showers period up until today, barring hearing about one on occasion from some of the other colts and fillies at school. For just a moment, she wondered if her parents had a foal shower for her when they discovered that her mother, whomever she was, was pregnant. As Scootaloo worked her way backwards through the book, she very much doubted that was the case. Finally, and thankfully, she found another section that looked to be of interest.

The Naming of Foals, and The Princess' Blessing

"...Names, page 32." The words appeared on the page as Scootaloo was speaking them through a mouthful of feather.

Though some pony families (typically those of a noble or esteemed lineage) would share last names, most ponies were simply given a name, congruent or otherwise from their estimated talents. Foal showers were often the time when expecting parents, with the help of their friends and family, would come up with a name that could effectively continue the typical family naming schema. Around 03CE, it was customary for parents to announce the names of their expectant children to accompany the number on the settlement population registry.

However, in later years, it became more and more of a societal norm throughout Equestria that the names of ponies, both young and old, align with either their cutie mark or profession. The amount of cases increasing through the social service systems shortly after ponies earned their cutie marks prompted for either a simpler method to change their name, or a more accurate one given to the foal at birth. A method was devised so that, on Newborn Celebration Day, parents could opt for assistance in naming their young by participating in a ritual known as "The Princess' Blessing." Participating parents would submit their names to the mayor or leader of the cities, who could then proceed to send the list of names to Princess Celestia*. Within several weeks, one of the parents would often, usually after waking from sleep, have a near prophetic idea of their foal's cutie mark, and choose a name accordingly.

Of all of the facts that Scootaloo had read about the holiday, this one was the most interesting, yet also the most outlandish. How hadn't she heard of this? She flipped to the next page eagerly, hoping that there would be more to learn.

As the population grew, and the towns and cities grew busier, the efficiency of the Princess' Blessing grew less and less each Newborn Celebration Day. Many ponies would often cite their dreams and experiences after submitting their names as "nightmarish", and dubbed the event as "The Princess' Curse". Coupled with the pressure from a rising number of concerned parents that insisted "knowing the future of your foal is a disservice to the meaning of parenthood," the amount of participating cities that offered the option dropped to a very small amount. As the prominence of official Newborn Celebration Day celebrations waned around 08CE, town leadership had ceased with presenting a list of names altogether, with the name-changing process becoming much more streamlined acting as a sufficient replacement.

However, The Princess' Blessing is still available for parents to utilize, provided they are aware and wanting to participate. Requests can be formally submitted through the local social service program, through a letter addressed directly to the governing princess, or with an actual audience if available.

*At the time of this publication, Princess Celestia is currently the only governing royalty recognized in Equestria. However, during the centuries prior, any royalty in a governing capacity was capable of administrating the Princess' Blessing, gender notwithstanding.

Scootaloo skimmed over the section again, checking the pages to see if there were some that she had missed. Nope. 32 and 33. She thought the concept of the Princess' Blessing fascinating, but the passage did a rather poor job of explaining how it actually worked. Normally, she wouldn't bother with fact-checking when a simple bullet point would suffice, but when she was working with a notoriously studious princess, Scootaloo felt obligated to -

Wait! Of course! Scootaloo thought. Twilight's a princess, she'll know how it works!

"Princess - I mean, - just Twilight?"

The alicorn looked up from the light pink paper she had just glued to the folded quarter of the posterboard opposite the light blue square, her hooves pressing down on the sheet as a small glob of white glue squeezed out from underneath.

"Yes?"

Scootaloo looked back at the passage, as if to check once more if any explanation had revealed itself. "How exactly does 'The Princess' Blessing' work?"

Twilight raised an eyebrow at the pegasus. "The Princess' Blessing?"

"Yeah," Scootaloo replied, sliding the book across the table towards her, Twilight wasting no time in magically lifting the book towards her own curious eyes. Scootaloo felt even more perplexed and skeptical of the notion of a procedure by which parents could magically see their foals future, especially if Princess Twilight Sparkle of all ponies had never heard of it!

"...I've never heard of it," Twilight said as she lowered the book to the tabletop, keen to avoid placing it upon the project. "I don't know."

Scootaloo imagined that Twilight was not used to uttering that phrase, and no sooner than the princess finished it, she had vanished in a flash of magenta light. A pop sounded from behind Scootaloo, causing the youth to jolt upward in her seat, though thankfully remaining in the chair rather than on the floor following Twilight's previous teleportations. She looked over her shoulder, and saw Twilight had already begun to pore over not just one, but two volumes.

"How did I miss this?" Twilight asked aloud, her eyes scanning left and right at a remarkable speed, practically blurring as her head shifted between the two books. "...I'm a princess, for pony's sake! How do I not know about The Princess' Blessing?" Scootaloo almost felt bad for bringing the subject up upon seeing Twilight's frantic disposition.

"Twilight?" Scootaloo turned around again as she heard Spike voice an evidently shared concern. "Twilight? Is everything okay?" The dragon scampered towards the table as Twilight continued muttering under her breath.

"...It's a good thing that Scootaloo asked about it - what would have happened if somepony actually needed my blessing? How could I tell them I don't know about my own blessing?"

"What happened?" Spike inquired, jumping into the chair opposite Scootaloo, looking over the unfinished posterboard for a clue of some sort.

Scootaloo looked back and forth between the dragon and alicorn, trying to think of how exactly how to word it. "I uhh... I asked her a question."

"And?"

"She didn't know."

Spike's grinning expression turned into one of surprise as Twilight made a loud exclamation of discovery.

"Aha!"

One of the books landed in front of Scootaloo, the text upside down, but in front of her nonetheless. As Scootaloo rotated the book, Spike raised his voice. "What's going on?"

Twilight answered with a question of her own as she skirted up alongside the young pegasus. "Spike, have you heard of The Princess' Blessing?"

"...No?" Spike shrugged his shoulders.

"Neither did I, not until Scootaloo asked me about it," Twilight explained. "Apparently, it's a part of her holiday, where a princess can somehow tell what an unborn foal's talents will be. From that knowledge, the parents can come up with an appropriate name to match their cutie mark or ability."

"Really?" Spike asked excitedly. "That's awesome! How do you do it?"

"That's just it. I don't know how to do it, Spike," the alicorn said exasperatedly, tapping the book that Scootaloo was currently buried in. "Not yet, anyways. That book there says;"

Though rumors persist about Princess Celestia's (and her late sister, Luna's) ability to influence dreams and induce visions, Princess Celestia explains that they do not possess the gift of foresight to render 'The Princess' Blessing' possible. Rather, she would consult with a group that she refers to as the 'Cabinet of Seers,' whom could allegedly predict the future.

"...predict the future,'" Scootaloo read aloud, turning the page. Unfortunately, the snippet that seemed to bear relevance was just that - a snippet. "So..."

Twilight's proud expression faltered a bit. "What do you mean?"

"How exactly does a piece of furniture help with naming your foals?" Spike asked bluntly.

"Not that kind of cabinet, Spike," Twilight giggled. "In this case, a cabinet is a group of advisers that leaders of groups refer to for making important decisions that will affect a lot of ponies."

"So then, who are the Cabinet of Seers?" Scootaloo asked aloud, scratching her head with her hoof. "And how do they see into the future?"

Twilight walked back to the bookshelf, levitating the book (named Politics of a Princess) back to it's open slot. "One piece at a time," she said as she resumed scouring the bookshelf. "Now, we know to look for the Cabinet of Seers. Thing is, I don't know exactly what they would be classified under. Political science, maybe, but this doesn't really sound like a science..."

"Always a puzzle," Spike sighed, moving to the non-fiction bookshelf adjacent to Twilight to help search. Meanwhile, Scootaloo was herself occupied with the search - she had read the words "Cabinet of Seers" before. She knew she did, only she couldn't quite remember where she had seen it. It couldn't have been too long a time ago -

Time.

"What about Times and Traditions?" the pegasus suggested. "I swear I remember them being mentioned in there when I picked Newborn Celebration Day."

"That actually makes sense, given the connection between that holiday and the Princess' Blessing - Spike, do you remember where-"

The thick volume thudded on the increasingly crowded tabletop. "Way ahead of you, Twilight," Spike answered with satisfaction. With pep in her step, the alicorn nestled in between Scootaloo and Spike, and the book cover illuminated inside a translucent envelope of purple.

"The contents say... Cabinet of Seers, page 88!" Twilight announced, the book practically whirring as she manipulated it to the page indicated.

A slow frown slid across the faces of all three curious readers as they read the meager passage together, Twilight Sparkle leading the narration.

The Cabinet of Seers are often associated with Newborn Celebration Day via "The Princess' Blessing". During the festivities, prospective parents could submit their names to participate, and sometime afterwards, would be granted lucid insight as to the prospects of their foals. Most often, this was used to fall in line with the increasingly common expectation of a ponies namesake fitting their description, talent, profession, or cutie mark. The Cabinet of Seers is purportedly only available for consult by Equestrian royalty in leadership positions. Not much is known about the Cabinet of Seers outside of this, though several retired secretaries for Princess Celestia claimed that the centuries long streak of peace following Nightmare Moon's emergence was made possible with their insight, helping to reinforce the need for secrecy and exclusivity as a prevention for potential misuse. However, in the case of helping with name-selection, Princess Celestia insists that she would be happy to oblige any parents who are interested with a consultation on their behalf.

Though still available, the advertisement of The Princess' Blessing itself has largely diminished in recent years following the protests of groups of concerned naturalist parents, citing...

Twilight stopped reading aloud for a moment and, based on what Scootaloo could interpret from the rapid movement of her eyes, looked to be scanning ahead.

"What's it say, Twilight?" a riveted Spike asked, trying to read the text at a most peculiar angle.

"The rest is the same information about the blessing, nothing new about the Cabinet of Seers," Twilight exhaled. "Well, that was disappointing." Because the rest of the content concerning The Princess' Blessing was probably new to Spike, he inched the book closer to himself and continued reading on his own.

"I'll say," Scootaloo nodded in agreement. "So, should I put the blessing in the project or not? I'm not entirely sure how I'll be able to explain it to the class if anypony asks, and..."

Her thoughts turned to how she would react if she suddenly heard of a method by which to tell the future from one of her classmates. Of course she would have questions! How it works, and who it works on. Did it need to be an unborn pony, or could anypony have their future discerned, regardless of age? She could just imagine the looks on Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle's faces if she could effectively end the trio's fruitless crusade for their cutie marks with the knowledge of exactly what their special talents were. Those essays that Miss Cheerilee loved to assign asking "Where do you see yourself in ten years?" would be a breeze. Scootaloo could pay for the rest of her house with a sure-fire lottery win, even with the assuredly erroneous price hike, and she could even afford proper furnishings for it to boot!

"...and I'm sure they will," she finished.

"I might hold off on that particular piece, then," Twilight advised as she continued browsing the shelves. "There's nothing worse than doing a presentation when you don't know all of the particulars. I'm sure you remember my cutie mark story, when I was at Princess Celestia's school for..."

Scootaloo waited for Twilight to finish as she resumed her perusal of Life Itself: A Celebration. After a few seconds of silence, time enough had passed for Scootaloo's memory to recall that particular tale.

"That was the dragon egg thing, right?" Scootaloo asked. "Matter of fact, isn't that where you got Spi-"

"Spike!" Twilight exclaimed.

"I thought so," Scootaloo nodded contentedly.

"No, no," Twilight shook her head. "Well, yes technically, but - Spike!"

"Yeah?" Spike lifted his nose out of the book at the sound of his name.

"Spike, I need you to take a letter," Twilight insisted as she walked away from the bookshelf to the center of the room, wherein she began to pace the floor in a circle. Scootaloo guessed that this was not an uncommon occurrence, as Spike was prepared with a quill and scroll only a few seconds later.

"Sure thing, Twilight. Whenever you're ready."

"Wait, what's going on? A letter to who?" Scootaloo asked as her research came to yet another distracted halt.

"Princess Celestia!" Twilight announced. "All of those books we read mentioned her, even the short one about the Cabinet of Seers. Certainly, she'll know how they work!"

Spike made a clicking noise with his tongue, the previous quandary solved with such an obvious solution. "Of course!"

"Alright," Twilight said slowly, the gears within her head likely appropriating an adequate way of addressing the subject.

"Dear Princess Celestia,

Today, while assisting a student with a research project, we came across two terms that neither of us were familiar with; The Princess' Blessing, and conqueren concurre also the Cabinet of Seers. After some research, we couldn't really find out how the process, particularly the Cabinet of Seers, worked. If it's not too much trouble, could you perhaps explain how exactly the foresight described is possible? In the event of somepony else inquiring in the future, I would like to be able to answer with confidence!

Still your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

"That ought to do it," Twilight nodded with a smile as she read over the letter, giving it back to Spike. The dragon rolled the scroll into a small cylinder, inhaled, and in a flash of fiery green breath, the letter vanished into a puff of green smoke that seemed to home in on the open window next to the door.

"That's a pretty neat bit of magic," Scootaloo said to Spike as she watched the green haze vanish into the blue skies above Ponyville. There wasn't a cloud in the sky today, thanks to the efforts of the weather team.

"Just basic dragon magic," Spike said. His voice seemed like it trying to disguise how happy he was that somepony was impressed by brushing his feat off as no big deal. "Believe it or not, dragon's breath has a lot of properties to it other than just burning stuff..."

Scootaloo continued to look out at the sky. The letter was no longer visible, but she still continued to stare. Her mind drifted once more to the thoughts of her presentation, to The Princess' Blessing and to the Cabinet of Seers. Sure, they could see a pony's special talent, but what else could they see? According to Times and Traditions, their foresight could evidently stave off conflict and ensure peace. From something as specific as a cutie mark to something as widespread as potential war - if that foresight could see an upcoming war, it had to mean that the Seers could look beyond a foal in the womb! It had to! And if that foresight could see beyond that...

Scootaloo vaguely heard Spike continue to carry on about the less-than-incendiary virtues of dragon breath as an idea formed in her head.

What if that foresight could show more than just a special talent? Or what if it could show something less? Something basic. Something as basic like, say... an earth pony being blessed with the strength to tend to the land, or a unicorn being gifted with the magic to raise the sun and lower the moon, and of course...

The sky had never looked so vividly blue.

...a pegasus, granted the power of flight, to soar through the skies and keep at bay the darkening clouds.

"...I've heard that dragon breath can also be focused to have healing properties, but I wouldn't test that unless I knew for absolute sure that it would work," Spike chuckled at his own joke, the laughter faltering as he noticed Scootaloo's less-than-lively reaction.

"Um... Scoots?"

Scootaloo whipped around abruptly, an excited look upon her countenance.

"So what happens next?" Scootaloo blurted to Spike's face. "Like, when do you think Princess Celestia will reply to that letter?"

The dragon recoiled just a bit before replying. "I uh... I dunno."

"She's a very busy pony, as you can no doubt understand," Twilight answered. "She'll answer when she's able to, I'm sure."

The excitement drained away from Scootaloo's face. "Oh... right."

"Something the matter?" Twilight asked concernedly.

"I just... I just really want to know if and how that whole Princess' Blessing and Cabinet of Seers thing works. It seems really cool," Scootaloo shrugged.

"Well, I for one am glad that it sparked a thirst for knowledge in you," Twilight beamed while Scootaloo nervously chuckled with a flushed face. "But I agree - the whole theory of being given a name that you eventually grow into is certainly a fascinating one. What do you think, Spike?"

Scootaloo found herself nearly falling out of her chair for the second time that day as Spike answered, not by speaking, but by unleashing a brilliant green flaming belch. As she recovered from the shock, preparing to offer Spike a well-earned hoof bump, she discovered the cause of it. A scroll emanated from his open jaws, tumbling to the tabletop before catching on what seemed to be a red ribbon and a small golden emblem keeping the scroll tautly coiled.

"Is that it? Ooh! What's it say, what's it say?" Scootaloo had both hooves on the table, the filly looming over the letter in anticipation. The purple aura of Twilight's magic surrounded the letter, and it floated towards the alicorn, unfurling as it did so.

"Calm down, Scootaloo!" Twilight laughed. Once Scootaloo had settled back in her seat, the princess cleared her throat, and read the letter out loud to her captive audience.

Dear Princess Twilight,

It is so nice to hear from you again, and I am glad that you brought The Princess' Blessing up. I meant to tell you shortly after the coronation, but I am not surprised that you discovered it - you have always been diligent in everything you do, so I expected nothing less from your royal duties. Should anypony from Ponyville ask for your blessing, I agree that you should be aware of how to answer, and know what to do next.

However, the process by which the blessing works, namely the part that the Cabinet of Seers play is very difficult to describe. I think it would be best if you were to come to Canterlot, wherein I would take you to see the Cabinet of Seers myself. I know this probably isn't the answer you were looking for, but I am certain you will understand after your meeting. As always, I look forward to hearing from you.

Princess Celestia

P.S. I am very proud to hear that you are taking time to mentor Equestria's youth - I only wish that I had more time to do so these days.

As she finished reading the post script, Twilight had the faintest hint of a grin on her face. But after she placed the letter back onto the table, it had changed into a more perturbed, almost annoyed, expression. "Well, I guess that's one way to find out how this whole thing works, but it doesn't really help us with the school project at the moment," she said, turning to face Scootaloo with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Scootaloo. I wasn't expecting that."

Scootaloo, meanwhile, was not nearly as disappointed as Twilight seemed to be. "So they're real? And you get to meet them? That is so cool! What are you gonna ask about when you see them? When are you going to see them?"

Twilight looked down at the inexplicably excited filly with wide eyes. "I don't know when I'm going, and I don't know if I'm going to ask them anything! I'm mainly just concerned with learning exactly how everything fits together."

"You aren't going to ask anything?" a dumbfounded Scootaloo asked.

"I wasn't planning on it," Twilight answered. "Princess Celestia obviously knows how best to consult with them for the big things in Equestria, and nopony has asked me about The Princess' Blessing yet... other than you, of course," she explained with a wink.

"Oh... right," Scootaloo replied blankly. "I guess that makes sense." The filly focused her attention once again on the book in front of her. For somepony who seemed to love learning as much as Twilight did, this seemed like the chance of a lifetime! How could she of all ponies simply not have any questions other than the rudimentary "how do you do what you do?"

She noticed that Twilight was standing perfectly still, staring at her, analyzing her. It was the exact same knowing stare she had used during breakfast, right before she assured Scootaloo that she hadn't mentioned her plight to Cheerilee.

"Hypothetically, what would you ask them about?" Twilight queried softly.

It didn't take long for Scootaloo to reply, as the answer to that particular question was burned into her mind even before she had discovered that somepony would actually be able to give an answer. Ever since she first saw one of her classmates flying elegant loops around each other during recess, while her wings simply buzzed and barely held her aloft.

"It'd be about me," she stated. "And my future."

"Still wondering what your cutie mark is gonna be?" Spike interjected from behind the letter that he was examining again. Twilight shushed him, but not before Scootaloo did so first.

"No!" Scootaloo cried. "I don't care about my cutie mark-" she covered her mouth with a hoof. " I mean - please don't tell Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle I said that! I - I do care about my cutie mark, and I know that I will eventually get it, but that's not what I meant. I know you'll probably think it's silly, and that I'm worrying for nothing, but I would ask - I'd ask..."

The words were caught in her throat. Scootaloo had asked this so often to herself, but it was always silent. The last time she had asked it aloud, it was to Rainbow Dash.

"What if I never fly?"

At the time, it was worded differently, and much more negatively, but the meaning was essentially the same. The uncertainty in those words made Scootaloo's eyes tear up before, and this time was no different. Scootaloo cleared her throat.

"Will I ever be able to fly?"

A far cry from the intense stare from before, both Twilight (and Spike) were uncomfortably avoiding eye contact with Scootaloo. The young pegasus wiped at her eyes, tears forming just like the last time she pondered her doubts aloud. She sighed deeply, and gazed blankly out the window again. Not a single cloud in the sky.

"Is that all?"

Scootaloo's ears flicked as she heard Twilight's voice, and she spun around, two fresh tears having rolled down the sides of her face. "That's it. I just want to know if I will be able to fly. I don't care if I will or - or if I - if I won't. I just want - I need to know!" She blinked and held her eyes closed as the alicorn's hoof touched her face for the second time that day, gently rubbing up and down her moistened cheek. Then it stopped, and Scootaloo opened her eyes. Without even realizing it, one of her hooves had reached to meet Twilight's, holding it in place against her face.

"You really do want to fly, don't you?" Twilight asked as she followed Scootaloo's previous gaze to the brilliant blue sky outside of the window.

"Of course I do," Scootaloo sighed. "But I would rather focus on learning to do something new instead of just wasting time doing something I should know how to do... but can't."

"Well, I don't think that's silly at all," Twilight reassured her.

"You don't?"

"Not in the slightest," Twilight answered with a soft chuckle. "You don't think I was worried when I heard I was going to be attending a school for gifted unicorns when I felt I could barely do simple magic?"

Scootaloo let go of the princess' hoof, her hoof dangling down by her small, folded wing. "That was different, Twilight. You can do magic, you just didn't know it yet. Not until Rainbow Dash came along," she added with a feeble smile.

"And maybe," Twilight replied, her hoof swapping from Scootaloo's cheek to the top of the filly's unkempt purple mane. "Maybe you can fly, and you just don't know it yet."

Scootaloo silently nodded her head, that nagging uncertainty betraying her action.

"But, I think I can find out."

Scootaloo looked up at Twilight, her eyes as wide as her brand new smile.

"You mean it?" she asked the princess for the second time in as many days.

"If it's simple as asking a question and getting an answer," Twilight started as she stood up, her hoof leaving the top of Scootaloo's head. "Then I will ask this Cabinet of Seers for you. If I can't find out, then... there's always Rainbow Dash, right?"

The mare gasped for air as Scootaloo practically choked Twilight in as powerful an embrace the filly could manage, Scootaloo's tiny forelegs wrapping around the base of her neck in a hug.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!" Scootaloo squealed, earning a delighted laugh from both Twilight and Spike. Her head resting on Twilight's shoulder, Scootaloo sighed deeply, and loosened her grip.

"There's just one other thing," Scootaloo added quietly.

"Oh?" The surprised Twilight asked while Scootaloo pulled herself away so that she could look directly at the mare's face.

"Yeah," Scootaloo mumbled, suddenly less sure of her new found demand. "I need you to promise me that you won't... that you won't plague-placat-"

"Tell you what I think you want to hear?"

"Exactly. If I can, or I can't, I need to know the truth."

"I already promised you that I wouldn't do that to you, Scootaloo."

"Promise me, Twilight," Scootaloo pleaded, her voice cracking as she practically glared at her.

Twilight looked curiously into Scootaloo's eyes. Rarely had she ever seen such raw vulnerability expressed at odds with an equal measure of pure ferocity.

"I promise."

Disaster Button

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Schoolwork was something that Scootaloo typically didn't devote too much attention to, outside of gleaning satisfaction when she recieved a decent grade, or a sense of relief when she finished her homework just before class began. Yet, when she sidled inside the (noticeably easier to open) door of her home after finishing her Sunday morning paper route, she couldn't help but eke a smile looking at the presentation of Newborn Celebration Day leaning against the base of the stairwell.

Granted, Twilight was the one that handled most of the actual construction and application of the glue and paper, she didn't do so unless Scootaloo told her exactly where and how to affix it. Scootaloo was very grateful, for she knew that if she had been in charge of cutting and gluing, it would have been disappointingly sloppy. Her hooves just couldn't match the precision of Twilight's magical manipulation. The perks of being a unicorn, she thought as she slowly ambled towards the dining room table to place her helmet upon it.

The sun had only just started to inch over the horizon, and the orange light filtered through the eastern facing window. The sunbeam settled upon an errant set of papers on the wooden floorboards. The glaring hue helped to obscure the bright red text upon them, but as Scootaloo looked upon the letters, the message portrayed was still perfectly clear.

She paused and sighed resignedly, not bothering to approach the bills to contemplate them further. She had spent an inordinate amount of time the night before laying in bed, thinking how best she - her "parents," rather - would approach writing FSR Realties to object to the alarming and impossible price hike. The problem was that she didn't know how exactly she could complain without risking an investigation that might expose her parents' non-existence. As far as she knew, she had been making payments on time, and that should have been good enough, right? What possible reason could FSR Realties have for quadrupling the price?

With more force than was necessary, Scootaloo set her helmet on the table, turned around and trudged to the stairs with an air of indignation. She had decided that as soon as she finished with her earlier-than-normal paper route (the heft of the Sunday edition of the Ponyville Express necessitated it) that she was going to get back to sleep. She didn't have to work until that evening after all. And, despite the bills taunting her on the dining room floor, she was going to stick to her plan. Scootaloo began to ascend the stairs when her (finished!) project caught her violet eyes again, and she paused to look upon it again with satisfaction.

Located around the collage were of a smattering of hoof drawn illustrations, as well as a series of small notes and bullet points to help Scootaloo with the presentation, in case she might forget some of the information she was to share. This was Twilight's idea.

"It's important to keep track of everything you think will be important. You never know when you may need to call back upon it."

You never know when you may need to call back on it, Scootaloo thought with a slight grin, continuing slowly up the stairs. For the second time, she paused as a wildly exciting, and utterly obvious notion materialized within her tangled web of thoughts and worries.

"That's it!" she cried aloud, galloping up the stairs, past the ever-sealed doors into her own room. She opened up the drawer of the nightstand to bear witness to a sizable stack of papers and books within. They vanished before her, her eyes closing in the midst of a wide yawn. Scootaloo slowly closed the drawer again, looking longingly at her bed. She had made a plan to sleep when she came back home. She crawled underneath the green blanket, nestling comfortably into a small cocoon, wearing a relaxed and hopeful smile. She fully intended to follow the plan to the letter.

Later that afternoon, a sufficiently rested Scootaloo found herself at the dining room table, poring over other plans - or more specifically, the contracts that had allowed her a home in the first place. Armed with a set of books that Scootaloo had checked out from the library years ago (she had forgotten about them entirely, and hoped Twilight didn't charge late fees), she had resolved to read and re-read the contract to find out exactly what could have triggered her egregious billing statements. Her two reference guides helped to translate some of the legalese that these contracts were written in - one titled Deciphering Dizzying Deals: Loans, Contracts and Mortgages Made Simple and the other (ironically titled) Home Ownership for Foals.

The first thing that Scootaloo noticed as the filly analyzed the contract was something that her books illustrated in their opening passages. Much of the wording was excessive and confusing, seemingly for the sake of being excessive and confusing. Indeed, though Scootaloo herself wasn't the best when it came to spelling, the pony at FSR Realties that drafted the contract had a difficult time spelling some of the more vexing phrases; "Assessed Valuation" was spelled "Assesed Valuetion" at several points, "Collateral" spelled "colatteral", and so on and so forth. She did notice, ominously, that "foreclosure" was spelled properly in each instance she saw it.

"...Pre-payment penalty... For paying too early? Is that what I did?" Scootaloo asked aloud, glancing back and forth from the papers to the books. Her eyes read the passage within the Deciphering Dizzying Deals book explaining what a pre-payment penalty was.

The pre-payment penalty is considered among the more nebulous and anti-consumer clauses commonly seen within loan contracts. Essentially, the pony making the payments is charged a fee for - of all things - paying off their debt/loan too early. Lenders often cite that the penalty is not anti-consumer, but merely a way for the lender to recoup some of the estimated losses as a result of shortened interest payments over a long period.

Through careful planning, it's easy enough to avoid a pre-payment penalty. Following a mutually agreed upon payment schedule as is usually stipulated prior to signature is the best way to do so. However, most (but not all!) financial institutions will not impose a pre-payment penalty unless a significant amount, or all of the debt, is paid at once. Barring lottery winnings or inheritances, instances in which this could feasibly occur are quite rare...

"So that's not it, then," Scootaloo grumbled. "I sure wish I had the money to pay this whole thing off at once..." She had been at this for about two hours, and hadn't found anything that might explain the bills she had been asked to pay. A low growl from her stomach distracted her from the next portion of the contract, and she remembered that she hadn't eaten since brunch at Twilight's the day before. Not at all disappointed at the prospect of a break, and a bite to eat, she hopped out from her chair, and trotted away from the paper-laden dining room table towards the kitchen. Scootaloo made her way past the front door and the entryway en route to the stool that she used to clamber onto the counter to access the counter and the cabinets above them. Another reason she couldn't wait to fly.

The pegasus hopped upon the counter, and pulled open the cabinet door where she kept the fillings for her sandwiches. She was tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at this point, but it was easily among the cheapest foods she could afford. Suddenly, she heard the sound of a hoof rapping against the door behind her.

Scootaloo's head jerked towards the knocking at the entryway, and noticed that, the front door was slowly opening. The front door between the kitchen and the dining room. The dining room with all of the evidence of her misdeeds on its table. Her eyes widened as she heard Twilight's voice just outside the door.

"Oops... hello?"

Scootaloo's eyes darted back and forth from the door that was just ajar enough to showcase the dining room table and the table itself, and she uttered an involuntary gasp of horror. She sprang from the countertop, covering the kitchen in a single bound, and dashed madly to slam the door shut before Twilight might discover her secret.

"Ah!" Twilight's voice cried from the other side of the door.

Scootaloo's mind raced as her body was pressed against the freshly sealed door. Why was Twilight here? What did she want? Scootaloo looked up at the table, and knew there was no way she could hide all of the paperwork (and overdue library books) fast or neatly enough from the princess, who was undoubtedly wondering why the door had just been slammed in her face. Scootaloo silently chastised herself for slamming the front door in anger two nights ago after seeing her bill - if she hadn't, the door would likely have not opened with such little resistance.

"Um, hello? Scootaloo?"

Scootaloo felt terror course through her as Twilight's voice called again from just beyond the wooden door. Scootaloo couldn't let Twilight see the paperwork - she just couldn't! At the same time, she couldn't leave an Equestrian princess on her stoop. Still unsure of exactly what she would say, Scootaloo took a deep breath and opened the front door just enough to see Princess Twilight Sparkle looking down at her in confusion.

"Oh! Princess Twilight!" Scootaloo exclaimed in feigned surprise. She watched the princess' face closely to make sure that Twilight's eyes didn't wander up. That Twilight would be able to read the papers at that distance was unlikely, but Scootaloo was taking no chances.

"Hey, Scootaloo." Twilight said slowly, clearly still a bit surprised about the immediacy of a door banging shut inches from her muzzle (Scootaloo hoped that the door didn't hit her, at least). "Is your door -"

"-Broken?" Scootaloo interrupted nervously. "Yeah, it's um.... yeah."

"Right," Twilight nodded. "I was just a bit startled, is all. It kinda slammed and-"

"-There's a draft," Scootaloo explained. "It um... does that sometimes." Before giving Twilight the chance to try and refute the logic that Scootaloo had presented, Scootaloo asked another question to hopefully distract the alicorn. "I'm surprised to see you. How did you even know where I lived?" Scootaloo regretted the question as soon as she asked it: Twilight was the princess of Ponyville, so it stood to reason that she knew where everypony lived. However, Twilight didn't seem perturbed.

"I had your address from this," she explained she produced an envelope from underneath the feathered wing curled at her side. In it's lavender glow, the letter was held aloft for Scootaloo to read the front of.

To the Parents/Guardians of: Scootaloo
119 Clydesdale Court
Ponyville, Equestria

On the top right of the envelope, Scootaloo noticed where the envelope had originated from - Ponyville Elementary School. She began to panic.

"Why do you have it? Mail doesn't even get delivered on Sundays!" Scootaloo sputtered, remembering that she didn't check her mailbox for anything that might have arrived on Saturday.

Twilight just laughed. "I know it doesn't, Scootaloo. No, Cheerilee stopped by on Friday night. When I told her that you and I would be working on Saturday, she asked me to give this to you to give to your parents," she explained. Scootaloo's heart jumped as Twilight peered into the doorway ever so slightly. "Are... they home?" Twilight inquired.

"No!" Scootaloo replied impulsively. "They're both at work right now. Why, um... why do you think she didn't just put it in the mail?"

Twilight shrugged. "Cheerilee said she wanted to deliver it in person. Said she stopped by on Friday, but no one was here."

"Oh yeah, they were both at work Friday night," Scootaloo explained without thinking again.

"I see," Twilight smiled. "Where do they work?"

"Who?"

"Your parents!" Twilight replied with a laugh.

"Oh right," Scootaloo nodded rapidly. "They work at um..." She paused for a moment, wracking her brain to come up with an appropriate answer that would explain why Twilight wouldn't have ever met them. She looked up at the blue sky and the wispy clouds over Twilight's shoulder. "They work in... Clouds...dale? They're business ponies in Cloudsdale," she added with confidence, hoping the answer would satisfy the inquisitive princess.

It didn't. "Cloudsdale? But they live in Ponyville?" Twilight inquired further, much to Scootaloo's dismay.

"Yeah, they uh..." Scootaloo struggled to fabricate a reason for the disparity, but then she realized that she didn't quite need to. "It's because of me," she admitted sadly.

Twilight frowned and uttered a soft "oh."

"Yeah, not being able to fly doesn't work so well for a city in the sky," Scootaloo said. "So they moved to Ponyville."

Twilight's frown morphed into a slight smile. "They must care a lot about you."

"Yeah... they do..."

The two sat in uncomfortable silence, both looking at the ground. Scootaloo stood partially concealed behind the door, wishing that the story she told was true. The sound of rustling leaves scraping the ground as the wind carried them broke the silence, and both Twilight and Scootaloo watched the gust lift a swirling gaggle of leaves up the street.

"They're falling earlier this year," Twilight remarked. "Though, the Running of the Leaves on Wednesday should still be good fun."

Scootaloo nodded, but didn't speak.

"Well then, could you give this to them when they come home?" Twilight asked gently, the envelope waving in front of her.

"Yeah, I'll do that," Scootaloo answered as the envelope drifted past her head, where it was placed upon the already paper-covered dining room table. Scootaloo's concern seemed to have faded at the perpetuated tale of her parents that weren't. The glow dissipated around the letter.

"Also," Twilight started quietly, and Scootaloo looked at the princess with a mix of hope and fear. "I 'spoke', for lack of a better term, to Princess Celestia last night after you left."

Scootaloo's eyebrow raised ever-so slightly. "Oh?"

"And..." Twilight's face broke out into a smile. "We agreed that I will go to meet with the Cabinet of Seers tomorrow."

The pegasus' eyes widened as her brain pieced together exactly what that meant. "So that means..."

"That means that tomorrow, I will try to ask them about you," Twilight finished. "And, if all goes well and works like we hope it will,, we'll find out if you'll be able to fly."

All pretense of secrecy abandoned, Scootaloo opened the door wide, and bounced outside in glee. "You mean it?"

"I promised I would, didn't I?" Twilight asked with just a shade of haughtiness.

"Yeah, you did, but I didn't actually think..." Scootaloo stuttered excitedly. "Oh, thank you, Princess Twilight! For the project, for the food, for this and - and - oh, thank you!"

Scootaloo could swear that Twilight kneeled ever so slightly as to facilitate the filly's forelegs wrapping around her neck in a hug.

"Just Twilight, Scootaloo," Twilight spoke simply. Scootaloo let go slowly and her hooves landed on the ground. "Speaking of the project," Twilight gestured to the cardboard project resting by the stairs in the entryway through the doorway, "I understand you're presenting it tomorrow after school?"

"Mm-hm!" Scootaloo nodded fervently.

"Well then, after the presentation, come by the library - I should be back by then - and you can tell me how you did, and I'll tell you what I learned."

"Okay!"

"Alright then, I guess I will see you tomorrow around say, four o' clock?" Twilight suggested to a most eager Scootaloo as they walked away from the house together.

"Four it is! I am so there!" Scootaloo cried giddily as they approached the mailbox. Scootaloo stopped by the mailbox while Twilight continued to walk towards the heart of Ponyville to where the library was.

"See you tomorrow, Scootaloo! Have a good evening!" Twilight called over her shoulder.

"I-I will!" Scootaloo called back, shaking in anticipation at the prospect that in twenty four hours, she would know whether she would finally be able to fly. The pegasus trotted back to her house, and a voice in her head was quick to speak to her along the way.

Just because you can find out, that doesn't mean you'll like the answer.

Scootaloo shook her head, trying her best to hold dearly to the optimism that she was feeling. Mid-shake, she looked back at the mailbox, and had an idea. She galloped back down the walkway and positioned herself underneath it. She bent all four limbs, paused, and then leapt as high as she could in the air, her wings buzzing as frantically as they could muster.

She looked up cautiously, careful not to break the concentration on her practically humming wings retaining their motion. Slowly, she reached up towards the handle of the mailbox with her right foreleg, but her hoof could only reach the lid. As soon as she touched it, her wings faltered, and she came to the ground. Scootaloo was panting, staring up at the mailbox with a smile. Wobbling, she made her way back to her house.

She was closer than she'd ever been to reaching it. And that was, as far as she was concerned, a good sign.

Working For The Weekend

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After ensuring that her scooter was safely tucked away behind the green dumpster at the back of Olive's Garden, Scootaloo unstrapped her helmet and approached the "Employees Only!" door. She pressed against the door with her hoof, and was almost immediately blessed with a reprieve from the zesty autumn chill with a warm, inviting, and pleasantly scented air that she'd come to associate with the restaurant. Navigating the eggshell white hallway, she turned into to the employee locker room. She didn't have so much a locker like the waiters and chefs with actual uniforms, but she had a neat little cubby hole that held her apron for dishwashing duty. Scootaloo reached in to exchange her helmet for her apron, and noticed a bright yellow sticky note above the cubby.

Premiere Dishwasher

She chuckled, slipping the apron over her head, assuming the source of the note to be from her eccentric boss, Mr. Olive. Dressed for the part, Scootaloo sidled out of the locker room, passing by several servers chatting among themselves on their way to leave for the evening. Passing by the metal door to the kitchen, she could hear the voice of her employer within. Taking a left, she found her station, and greeted the worker standing before the industrial size sink.

"Hey, Ripple," Scootaloo piped up, breaking the relatively normal silence of the room. Her co-worker, a light blue earth pony turned around, and broke into a wide smile upon seeing his replacement.

"Heya, Scootaloo! How are you doing?"

"Can't complain," Scootaloo said cheerfully. "Busy night?"

Ripple laughed quietly as he threw the dishrag from his shift into the hamper by the sink. "Sundays always are," he said. "Families getting the last hurrah before the week starts."

Scootaloo nodded in agreement, sliding the stool she needed to reach the sink into its position.

"I want to apologize in advance for tonight," he continued. "Mr. Olive is in the kitchen tonight, and you know what that means."

"Extra cheese and sauce?"

"Yup!" Ripple exclaimed, tossing Scootaloo a fresh towel. "But I guess that's your problem now, huh?"

"I guess," Scootaloo replied, her hooves already soaked in the lukewarm water to continue the battle against the stack of dishes within.

"Only joking," he patted Scootaloo on the shoulder playfully. "Anyways, I'm going to get going. The outdoor cinema is going to be closing soon for winter, and the movie Twelve Donkeys just came out on Friday. Gonna go see it tonight with some friends, it's supposed to be really good."

"I hope you have fun. Let me know how it is," Scootaloo said absentmindedly, her attention focused on scrubbing an already troublesome layer of dried cheese on a large plate.

"Will do. Good night, Scootaloo!" Ripple said, his voice changing in volume once he passed the threshold into the hallway.

Scootaloo twisted her head to face the door. "Good night!" In that moment, she caught a fleeting glimpse of Ripple's cutie mark - a film reel. Then she had an idea. "Ripple!" she cried out quickly, hoping to catch her co-worker's attention before he was too far gone.

"Yeah?" His head popped in the doorway, wearing a slightly puzzled expression.

Scootaloo tossed the dishrag over the faucet, and hopped down from the stool. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you get your name?"

"Come again?" Ripple did a double-take, and he looked even more confused. "My parents gave it to me... isn't that how it works?"

"No, no," Scootaloo shook her head. "I mean like, how did they come up with that name?"

Ripple looked ponderously at the ceiling, scratching his chin. "I'm not sure," he admitted with a shrug. "Maybe they thought I'd be making waves?" he suggested as he splashed his hoof into the foggy sink water. "Come to think of it, I think it was a name kinda from my mother's side of the family."

"And what was her name?" Scootaloo asked.

"Ruffle."

Scootaloo's face screwed up in thought, contemplating what the names Ripple and Ruffle could imply for a talent or occupation. "Do you know why her parents named her that?"

"I didn't think to ask," Ripple laughed. "She'd probably think it 'wildly impertinent.'"

"What's her special talent?" Scootaloo inquired hastily.

"Rock climbing. Heck, climbing anything really. I've never seen anypony scale a cliff-face faster than her. Why um, why do you ask?"

The filly paused for a moment, thinking how best to word her answer. "It's kind of a school project. I was wondering why some ponies seem to be named after their talents or jobs or whatever."

"Huh..." Ripple stated blankly. "Kinda like you and your scootering? I guess I never really thought about it before."

Scootaloo glossed over her coworker's lack of pontificating, and was quick to disregard his assertion. "Using a scooter isn't my special talent," she insisted with more than a trace of defiance.

Her staunch denial wasn't lost on Ripple. "Oh well, you're pretty good at it anyways."

Scootaloo sighed exasperatedly. Even ponies who she barely knew her seemed to think she was destined to putter about on a foal's toy.

"I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?" Ripple continued. "I mean, isn't a name just a name? Perhaps it was just intuition or coincidence or something?"

"Maybe..."

With that, Ripple inched back towards the doorway. "Anything else? I don't mean to seem impatient, it's just that Twelve Donkeys starts in half an hour and I don't want to be late, you know?"

Scootaloo jolted out of her headspace. "Oh no, I didn't mean to keep you. Have a good night, Ripple."

"You too, Scootaloo. Again!" The stallion's noticeably hastened hoof falls faded as he trotted down the hallway, out of sight. Scootaloo was unsatisfied with the notion of what her special talent was supposed to be, or what she hoped it wasn't supposed to be. Why did she get the name 'Scootaloo?' She didn't know. As she dipped her hooves back into the sink, she remembered that hopefully, Twilight would answer her "other" burning question this time tomorrow. She felt a knot in her stomach, and tried to convince her swimming head to calm down and temper its expectations.

The last of the plates had been neatly stacked in the strainer, and Scootaloo tossed the dampened rag into the linen hamper. Her hooves laden with suds, she scratched her itchy muzzle with the crease in her foreleg. She heard the unmistakable sound of the dish cart approaching, the rubber wheels bouncing along the wooden floor. She stuck her head out over the counter where dirty dishes were typically placed, and saw a server approaching with the cart in tow.

"Don't worry, I'm just putting the cart away, kid. You finished the last of them?" the pony asked as he passed by.

Scootaloo nodded, though the server didn't see it. "Yup!"

He still didn't turn around. "Well then, I guess I'll see you around. Have a good evening."

"You too - hey, is Mr. Olive still around?" Scootaloo inquired. The server had opened the storage closet to put the cart away, and though his voice was muffled as a result, Scootaloo could still hear it.

"Last I saw, he was still in the kitchen."

"Thanks!" Scootaloo bounced down from the stool after pulling the plug in the sink, and made her way to the kitchen as quickly as she could. Mr. Olive had told her that he would schedule her for work during the week when she requested it, since she wasn't going to be in school anyways. She scarcely noticed that she was tracking minute amounts of suds while she walked, but she didn't really care. With a hefty shove, she pushed the metal kitchen door open with her shoulder.

Mr. Olive was still in the kitchen, scraping at the stovetop with a metal scraper, muttering under his breath.

"Mr. Olive?"

He looked up from his task, and Scootaloo could swear she saw sweat starting to form on his brow. "Scootaloo! I meant to speak with you sooner, but I was just cleaning up and lost track of time - I forget how sticky everything gets if you let it cool."

Scootaloo knew that tidbit only too well. "I can imagine. Did you want to speak to me about the schedule for next week?"

The metal scraper made a swooshing noise as Mr. Olive swung it through the air suddenly. "Exactly! The schedule is on the wall over there." The scraper was pointing at a sheet of paper pinned to the wall to Scootaloo's right. Scootaloo walked inside to examine it, the metal door swinging shut silently.

Monday - Lunch Shift
Tuesday - Lunch Shift
Wednesday - N/A
Thursday - Dinner Shift
Friday - Lunch Shift
Saturday - N/A
Sunday - N/A

"I think you'll appreciate the lunch shift - it's a bit slower than the dinner shift. Ponies don't much prefer pasta for lunch, it seems. Too filling, makes them sleepy for the rest of the day if I had to wager," Mr. Olive pondered aloud. "Does that work for you?"

Scootaloo bristled just a bit. She knew that she'd be getting Wednesday off, for the Running of the Leaves. But the weekend?

"Just two things," she said. "I agreed to work tomorrow - Monday - morning at Barnyard Bargains in exchange for having somepony cover my shift yesterday, so I won't be able to make it in on time."

"Okay," Mr. Olive nodded, a pen floating in a fluorescent yellow light towards the sheet to scribble over it. "Do you want to work in the evening?"

"Yeah, I should be good for that. And then..."

Monday - Lunch Dinner Shift

"Yes?"

"I'll be able to work the weekend too."

The pen clicked, and the tip vanished within. "I figured as much, if the last few weekends were anything to go by."

Scootaloo scratched her foreleg uncomfortably. "Yes, and well, I was thinking..."

"And as your boss, I was thinking that you deserved a weekend off," the unicorn interrupted.

Scootaloo was taken aback. "Yes, but, I want to work."

Mr. Olive looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "You are the strangest filly I've ever met, Scootaloo. Nopony wants to work. This is the weekend after all of the leaves fall to the ground - surely you'd rather jump in leaf piles with your friends instead of slaving away in a stuffy restaurant?"

"That would be fun, I guess," Scootaloo conceded, "But I need-"

"You need to take a weekend off to spend time with your friends," her employer said firmly. "Since you can't really see them in school while you're suspended, right?"

"How do you know about that?" Scootaloo asked with a blush spreading across her face.

"Mr. Rich told me. Said you got suspended for breaking his daughter's muzzle."

Scootaloo looked down embarrassedly. "He... he told you that?"

"Yup. We're good friends - he actually gave me the start-up for the Garden."

"Oh..." Scootaloo pawed at the ground, not daring to look at him. "Sorry..." She felt his hoof flick the curl in her mane.

"Don't worry, Scootaloo! I'm not angry at you - after listening to her badmouth my ravioli, I was tempted to do the same thing!"

The pegasus looked up with a weak smile, but still feeling the ache of shame as a result of her lost temper.

"The point I'm making, Scootaloo, is that you need to blow off some steam. I'm only too happy to have you working for me as my premiere dishwasher, but you shouldn't be getting burned out on work before you're even out of school! That comes after," he added with a wink.

Scootaloo didn't relent. "But, sir, I -"

"I'll have you know that it isn't often an employer bidding his employees to not work is met with such resistance!" Mr. Olive cried dramatically. "Matter of fact, I will fire you if you don't have a good time with your friends this weekend!"

"Y-you can't do that!" Scootaloo protested.

"Can't I?" Mr. Olive said with an obvious coat of false menace. Seeing through it, Scootaloo merely blinked at him. "Okay, so I really can't. But my point still stands. You can be a member of the 'weekend working stiffs of Equestria association,' but it won't be at my hooves. Not for this weekend at least. Are we clear?"

Scootaloo opened her mouth to argue, but she faltered. Clearly, Mr. Olive had already made his decision. Besides, she could probably request a shift or two at Barnyard Bargains anyways. "Yes, sir."

"Good! Then, I'll see you tomorrow night?"

Scootaloo pushed against the door forcefully. "Yes, sir," she answered without so much as glancing at him.

She sauntered with deliberation down the hallway towards the locker room, her lip curled in frustration. Why was he being so stupid about this? Why would an employer refuse somepony to who wanted to work? And, since she was younger, she guessed that she made less than every other employee there! So there was that too. Playing with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom might be fun, she thought, but it wouldn't help her keep her home. At her cubby, she looked up at the "Premiere Dishwasher" note with disdain, and swatted it down. It drifted slowly down the floor, face down.

Still fuming, she tore off her apron and thrust it inside. She lifted her helmet up, and saw that placed underneath it, was a white styrofoam container. She recognized it as a to-go box that Olive's Garden used. Dark red tomato sauce was leaking out from one of sides - the box was clearly stuffed. There was another sticky note atop the container, and because of the heat radiating from inside the box, it gave no resistance when Scootaloo peeled it off. The note read;

You're only young once. Enjoy it!
And the food too.

Scootaloo inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Clearly, Mr. Olive knew that she would object to not working, or he wouldn't have felt the need to bribe her with pasta. Was she really becoming that predictable?

She sighed again. What if he was right?

It had been over a month since she and the other Crusaders had spent any time together. Now, it seemed like the only time they had spent together was them trying to convince Scootaloo to actually do something with them. Like the school project. Or even just a simple sleepover. Or a crusade. Jumping and splashing about in leaf piles sure seemed awfully tempting...

Then, she smiled. She was still just a filly after all, right? And surely, once she sent the letter in to FSR Realties, the discrepancies with her 'parents' account would be fixed, and she wouldn't need to work all weekend anyways! And, she couldn't deny, she longed to see Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom again, and spend some quality time with them. After all, even when her spirits had floundered during her extended stay at Warm Stables orphanage, they always made her feel better.

So, that settled it! Scootaloo was officially coming off her hiatus as a Cutie Mark Crusader this weekend! She couldn't wait to tell Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, and she supposed she ought to thank Mr. Olive for the opportunity as well. She suddenly wished she hadn't acted so immaturely back in the kitchen...

Blushing, so strapped her helmet upon her head, and gripped the styrofoam box gently in her mouth. As she was leaving, something on the ground caught her eye.

Though Mr. Olive might not know it, Scootaloo hoped that reposting the note above her cubby, the one declaring her status as "Premiere Dishwasher," would be seen as a token of acceptance. And possibly, of gratitude.

She stepped outside, and the cool evening air did little to dampen her mood.

Shadow on the Sun

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Twilight departed from the Canterlot train station, the whistle from the train blowing fiercely behind her, announcing the conductor's own intent to depart soon. She hadn't been to Canterlot in a good while, and especially not since getting her flight practice in with Rainbow Dash. Still, she didn't quite feel comfortable with long distance flying just yet, so she opted to travel by rail. And also, as was further exacerbated by the noticeable stares she was already receiving from the Canterlot citizenry unused to her presence, she didn't want to risk embarrassing herself with an abject display of clumsy flying. Her pace quickened as the rumblings from the townsfolk that noticed her "royal" presence reached her ears and caused her face to grow slightly warmer in the brisk morning air.

Since she had moved to Ponyville, Twilight had almost forgotten what the hustle and bustle of a typical Canterlot morning was like. While Twilight wouldn't go so far as to consider Ponyville a "sleepy" town in and of itself, it appeared outright comatose compared to even just the single cobblestone laden street that Twilight was currently traversing. Ponies in the market stalls lining the streets were selling all sorts of odds and ends were crying out, vying for the attention of potential customers and their hard earned money. The swarms of ponies that composed the rest of the city folk seemed to move around her fluidly, like river water around a rock. Fortunately for her, she didn't have far to go to reach the castle gates.

Once inside the massive archway, the alicorn ambled towards the marvelous set of curved stairs that led to the castle interior. Two lone guards idled at their base, statuesque and unmoving. Twilight remembered when her brother would tell stories about his early days in the Guard, and how mind-numbing that duty was. Opting for the stairs on the right, Twilight uttered a polite greeting to the guards, to acknowledge that they weren't, in fact, the statues they were trying so hard to be.

"Good morning, gentlecolts," she said pleasantly. The guard closest to her nodded in return.

"Good morning, miss."

Twilight climbed up the stairs, and heard a commotion of clanking metal behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see the fuss, and saw that both guards had bowed down before her.

"Terribly sorry, Princess Twilight. We didn't recognize you at first," the guard furthest from her explained.

Twilight blushed, and waved a hoof dismissively. "Thank you, both of you. Um... carry on?"

"Yes ma'am," the guard replied, reverting back to his sentry-like position. The other guard, a younger one from the look of it, was still eyeing her curiously.

"Princess Twilight, are you by chance here to see Princess Celestia?"

Twilight stifled a giggle as she watched the older guard's face blanch in horror at the 'audacity' of the younger guard daring to ask a question.

"That I am," she answered. "I might be a bit early, but she knows that I'm coming."

"Of course, of course, I didn't mean to imply - I merely meant to say," the guard stumbled over his words. Twilight rarely saw Shining Armor on duty, but she wondered if he had ever been that tongue tied when he was addressing Princess Celestia.

"What he was trying to say," the older soldier interrupted loudly, "was that Princess Celestia is currently in a meeting with city officials out of Baltimare."

"Oh..." Twilight's smile faltered momentarily. "Should I come back later?"

"Negative, your highness. One of us will let her know you've arrived. If you like, you can wait in the throne room for her."

"I'll do that, thanks!" Twilight said brightly. "Thank you both very much."

"Of course, your highness." The younger guard bowed again before standing up, whereupon he shuffled up the opposite staircase. Twilight shook her head at the notion of being referred to as "your highness." That was going to take some getting used to - ponies were far less formal back in Ponyville. She reached the top of the stairs and continued towards the throne room.

Passing several groups of guards and an ornate set of double doors, she entered the grand hall and uttered an involuntary gasp. She had forgotten what it looked like when the sun filtered through the stained glass windows in the mornings, but she didn't know how she could have; it was breathtaking. Minus two soldiers stationed to her left and right, she was alone in the room. She made her way towards the throne, her hooves plodding softly on the thick red carpet below. At the steps below the throne, she stopped and turned around, taking a seat on the floor while she observed the patterns of the windows. She felt more than a little self conscious seeing herself depicted in several of them. She didn't need to endure that too long, however.

Princess Celestia's figure appeared in the doorway, her pastel mane flowing elegantly behind her. It had been a good while since the two had seen each other, and Twilight could tell from her mentor's noticeably hastened gait that Celestia was just as excited to see Twilight as Twilight was to see her.

"Twilight!"

"Princess Celestia!"

The two met halfway, exchanging their greetings as they shared an impromptu embrace. Because of Celestia's larger stature, Twilight had always felt like a little filly awkwardly reaching up, but Celestia was clearly used to it, and didn't hesitate to bow down to facilitate the process.

"It's so good to see you again, Twilight," Celestia spoke softly into Twilight's ear, which flicked of its own accord as a result.

Twilight's hoof slid down to the carpet. "Likewise. It's been too long. I almost forgot what it was like to be in Canterlot. I should try to come by more often."

"You are always welcome to, Twilight," Celestia smiled. "Though I suspect you've been quite busy doing your duty as a princess back in Ponyville."

"Yes, well... no. Not really," Twilight admitted, doing her best to phase out the stained glass depiction of her over Celestia's left shoulder. "Mayor Mare does a great job taking care of Ponyville. I haven't been called upon to do too much outside of running the library like I already did."

The elder princess rested a gold-plated hoof on Twilight's shoulder. Despite the adornment's metallic touch, it was still a comforting gesture. "The citizens of Ponyville can rest easier knowing that they have you nearby to watch over them, Twilight."

"I already did that before becoming a princess though," Twilight argued. "It feels like nothing has really changed outside of my title."

"Give it time, Princess Twilight," Celestia assured her. The formality of including her title wasn't lost on Twilight. "When the time comes, you'll play your part."

Twilight exhaled slowly from her nostrils, wearing a concerned frown. She hadn't intended on venting to Princess Celestia, but in all honesty, Twilight's friends, great though they were, weren't quite able to relate to her in regards to the expectations that come with being a princess.

"For what it's worth," Celestia continued, "the very reason you are here today is because of a royal duty, is it not?"

The effect was instantaneous. Twilight hadn't really thought of it in that way, but the Princess' Blessing was technically a part of her role as a princess! Immediately, her mood was uplifted.

"That's true, isn't it?" Twilight asked rhetorically. "Ever since I read about it, I was wondering how the whole thing works - the Princess' Blessing, the Cabinet of Seers, seeing the future, all of it!"

Celestia laughed as Twilight's excitement increased in tandem with the cadence of her voice.

"And, you'll get to see how it works first hoof. Please, come with me," Celestia motioned towards the double doors, her golden hoof plate glimmering in a sunbeam. Twilight nodded, and the two princesses exited the throne room, Celestia leading the way.

"I apologize for not informing you sooner, Twilight. I hope you weren't put on the spot too much about it," Celestia said, turning her head to observe her pupil from the corner of her eye as they wandered down a marble antechamber.

"Oh no. I was helping a student with a research project, and the topic came up," Twilight explained.

"That's good. What exactly was this student researching?"

"She was researching a holiday - Newborn Celebration Day."

At a junction, Princess Celestia turned to the right, and Twilight followed suit.

"That makes sense, I suppose. It's a shame that the holiday has fallen out of favor," Celestia said with a sigh. "It was always such a hopeful occasion to see all of the expecting parents being supported and celebrated by the entire community. Not that they aren't still, of course. Just not as openly."

They took another right, and began to descend a stairwell to the south wing of the castle. Twilight recognized this place as living quarters of the castle staff from when she was younger, but she didn't come here too often during her tenure as Celestia's student.

"So, do the members of the cabinet live here?" Twilight expressed curiously, looking up ahead at the various doors, wondering which one they would be entering.

"In a sense, yes," Celestia answered, her horn glowing and opening another set of doors leading to yet another corridor. This one did not have any windows, and was significantly darker, save for the dark orange flames emanating from the tips of candelabras dotting the walls. "Pheonixwood torches," Celestia pointed out as they walked past a set. "I trust you've read about it?"

Twilight had. Phoenixwood was a very rare and special type of wood that, once burned and turned to ash, would reform from the ashes into wood. Theoretically, as long as there wasn't an abundance of moisture to disrupt the fire, a torch from pheonixwood could essentially last forever. Twilight also knew that the wood didn't actually come from a tree, and that the title of "wood" was a misnomer. In fact, the material was formulated by a very famous magician - but said magician never explained in the written word how he had done so. Thus, the rarity.

"Starswirl the Bearded invented that, didn't he?" Twilight asked in awe, staring at the next set of candelabras more raptly than she had ever done to a light source before.

"Indeed he did. This is one of the oldest parts of the castle, Twilight, where Starswirl often retreated to during his studies. The book containing the spell that you finished came from one of these very rooms, believe it or not."

"Really? And the Cabinet of Seers live here?"

"Mm-hm."

They continued further, Twilight's anticipation growing ever greater. All of this strange and wonderful magic was right here the whole time! Perhaps when she was finished meeting with the Cabinet, she could have a peek around to glean more from Starswirl's less publicized accomplishments. Twilight was grateful that Scootaloo had brought the whole thing up with her project. Which reminded her...

"Princess Celestia?"

"Yes, Twilight?"

"One of the reasons I was so keen to meet with the Seers, other than simply learning about the Princess' Blessing, was because of a request that was asked of me by the filly I was helping with the project."

"Am I to assume that the request was not made for the sake of her project?"

Twilight's eyes widened at how succinctly Celestia had discerned that particular.

"Well, yes, but it's not what you think!" she cleared her throat nervously. "See, this filly has been having a tough time lately, and she's wondering about her future."

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Scootaloo."

"Scootaloo... Ah yes, she was a flower filly at Cadence's wedding, right?"

"That's right!" Twilight exclaimed, recoiling at the sound of her voice bouncing around empty marble hall. "She's a pegasus, but she can't fly yet. And - you know how younger ponies can be, she's got it in her head that she might never fly. So, I promised that if I could, I would find out for her if she would be able to or not."

Celestia stopped moving, and Twilight barely managed to avoid crashing into her. The larger pony's chest heaved in a deep sigh, a display that frightened Twilight. Did she do something wrong?

"Are you two close, Twilight?"

Twilight thought for just a moment before answering. "No, not really. I've only really spent time with her for two days." Celestia turned her head, her eyes looking at Twilight thoughtfully through the dim glow of the candles.

"I don't see why that would be a problem," Celestia spoke after a short pause, to which Twilight exhaled in relief. "However," Celestia continued, "I'm going to ask you to reconsider."

"What for?" Twilight tilted her head.

"Knowing the future undoubtedly has its uses, Twilight, but it comes at a price." The princess' voice had taken on an air of discernable weight.

"What do you mean?"

"Allow me to illustrate," Celestia said. "Imagine that if you knew that tomorrow, your friends would disappear. What would you do?"

With an open mouth, Twilight struggled feverishly to comprehend such a situation. "My - my friends? Disappear? How?"

"Imagine that the 'how' isn't important. Just that tomorrow, your friends would vanish."

"Of course the 'how' is important!" Twilight cried, not caring about the echoes that followed. "My friends are more important to me than anything! I would do everything that I could to prevent that from happening!"

"That's the problem," Celestia whispered with an unexpected fragility that utterly contrasted the stark scenario she had concocted. "I would expect anypony in your situation to do the same about something they cared about so much."

"I don't understand..."

"Knowing the future doesn't mean you can change it. I appreciate that you want to help Scootaloo, but think about what would happen if you knew that she would never fly? What would you do?"

"I would tell her," Twilight answered with less enthusiasm than how the notion sounded in her mind. "I promised that I would, regardless of the answer."

"Now ask yourself, what would she do if she knew?"

Twilight didn't answer immediately. Her eyes had adjusted to the ambient lighting, but all she seemed to be able to do was stare at the floor. What would Scootaloo do? How would she react? Twilight hadn't really thought of an outcome where Scootaloo couldn't fly - the filly's enthusiasm and energy seemed too much to keep grounded. Twilight would be devastated to have to disappoint her. But, what would Twilight tell her if she lied and claimed that couldn't find out or didn't know?

“Maybe that’s your fault for making a promise that you couldn’t keep," Scootaloo's voice played back in her head, as hurtfully and accusatory as Twilight could remember. "Princess Twilight Sparkle, the liar. Not as perfect at everything as everyone thinks she is.”

"I appreciate the concern, Princess Celestia," Twilight looked up resolutely. "But I promised her that I would tell her, good or bad. Doesn't she deserve to know?"

"As a princess, that's for you to decide, Twilight." Celestia answered with a disparaging vagueness. "Either way, you won't have to wait long. We're here."

Twilight looked at the door to her right. It was a small brown door that was unexpectedly shabby considering the gravity of what lay beyond it. The only thing that was even remotely unique about the door was a silver rotating lock above the handle, and even that seemed underwhelming.

"Here?" Twilight said bemusedly, earning a nod from Princess Celestia in return. Twilight's horn glowed, and the silver handle turned downward. With a push of her hoof, Twilight opened the door to reveal... a broom closet. The room couldn't have been more than five meters deep, and there was literally nothing in it save for three scraggly broomsticks hanging on a rack against the back wall.

"Um..." Twilight looked back and forth between Celestia and the spindly sweepers in confusion. "Are you sure?"

"I've gotten so used to it, I forgot to mention," Celestia said with a giggle as she pulled the door closed. "You need to turn the lock." Her golden hoof pointed at the silver accessory above the handle. Twilight placed her hoof upon it, and pushed downward. To her surprise, the shoddy looking contraption didn't budge. She pushed down harder to no avail.

"You have to use your alicorn magic. Remember that only Equestrian royalty can meet with the Cabinet of Seers," Celestia pointed out in her quiet manner in such a way that Twilight didn't feel embarrassed that she didn't think of it before.

"...And Equestrian royalty are always alicorns," Twilight deduced as the lock was shrouded in a magenta aura. With minimal concentration, the lock rotated under her will, and the silver peg now lined up parallel to the door frame. Twilight didn't know exactly what happened, but she knew that there was no longer a broom closet on the other side of the door. A bright cyan glow traced along the outline of the door, and the gap beneath the floor and the door, once pitch black, was now bathed in what seemed to be the comforting glow of sunlight.

"How?" Twilight looked up at Celestia in amazement.

"Starswirl's greatest accomplishment," Celestia explained with some satisfaction, "was creating portals."

With her magic still surrounding the lock, Twilight pressed down on the handle, and pushed forward. She stopped when she heard Celestia speak again behind her.

"Remember what I said, Twilight."

Twilight looked back at her in surprise. "You aren't coming with me?"

Celestia shook her head. "This is something that you should experience alone. But I will be right here when you are finished."

"But how long will the meeting take?"

Celestia smiled. "Trust me, Twilight. I'll be here."

Twilight nodded back to her mentor, her words offering a great reassurance. She turned to face the door again, and pushed it open. Compared to the darkness of the hallway behind her, the light within the room was blinding. Twilight closed her eyes, and with only a moment of hesitation, she stepped inside.

Somewhere Only We Know

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Twilight wasn't sure exactly what she was expecting when she entered the room, but it definitely wasn't this. The door that once lead to an old, dusty broom closet now led to what seemed to be the outside of the castle. All from a turn of a lock.

Looking up, Twilight saw a bright blue sky, complete with wisps of cloud lazily drifting with the wind. The breeze, faint though it was, was a warm and comfortable one. Twilight stepped forward again onto springy green grass, and she heard a soft click behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder, the shabby brown door of the broom closet connected by it's silver hinges to a decidedly un-shabby white marble wall. Engraved above the door were the words Equestria - Canterlot Castle South Wing in a font style that Twilight couldn't place. The alicorn's eyes followed along the marble structure, determined to calculate the logistics of how there could be a hallway in Canterlot on the other side of the door. Celestia's mention of the word "portals" would have to suffice, as the structure was nothing more than a thin obelisk that was jutting out of the ground.

Contented, for lack of a better word, Twilight turned her attention from where she had come from to where she was. She had emerged on the top of a small hill, she and the obelisk overlooking a quaint village that wasn't unlike her Ponyville, with the exception of a tall crystalline building at its center. Beyond the village was a large lake, the sun above her making it positively glisten. She felt the breeze pick up again, and she closed her eyes as it gently tickled her with its warmth. Then Twilight realized something - the Canterlot she had just left was experiencing a zesty autumn morning, and a breeze would have been anything but enjoyable. This place, wherever it was, seemed to be experiencing a delightful spring afternoon. All around her, the vivid green leaves on the trees confirmed her suspicions.

But, more than anything else, there was this bizarre tingling sensation that enveloped her. Twilight noted, with growing fascination, that the last time she had felt something like it was when she had been walking alongside Princess Celestia in some ethereal plane before she became an alicorn. Abnormally pleasant weather aside, Twilight suspected this place was far more magical than the fairly normal trappings implied. But all of her observations did little to identify where in Equestria she was - if at all she was still in Equestria!

In the excitement of discovering her surroundings, Twilight almost forgot why she was here to begin with; to meet with the Cabinet of Seers. She had half expected a conference room with a bunch of elderly ponies when she imagined what the meeting would have been like. Well, she wasn't in a conference room, and there were no elderly ponies. In fact, she seemed to be alone. With no other feasible options, she began to descend the hill along an ivory colored stone path towards the village to find somepony to talk with. As two ponies emerged from the village onto the path walking towards her, she wondered if perhaps they appeared because of her arrival. She broke out into an excited gallop, and hurried along to meet them.

"Hello?" She called out as she approached, wondering if being so forward was a good idea. To her relief, they waved back to her in a most neighborly fashion.

"Welcome!" one of their voices cried, a unicorn stallion's. Twilight slowed to a canter as they drew nearer and smiled at the two ponies. "It's so nice to meet you!" the young stallion said to her. His coat, like much of the coloration here, was white, and complimented the practically bleach-blonde spiky mane on his head. "We... are just meeting you, right?"

Twilight giggled at the question. "Yes, my name is Twilight Sparkle and-"

Twilight stopped speaking. Out of nowhere, her mind had conjured such strange images. Strange, but not unfamiliar, and not at all unpleasant. She saw... Smarty Pants? Her old doll? Flashes of her mother and father looking at her, beaming. Her brother flying a kite. The recollections, however brief, made her feel a strange sense of elation.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle's coronation!" The stallion exclaimed suddenly, pulling Twilight from her trance. "Dated February 13, in the year of 10CE13, celebrating her creation of new magic, she was welcomed among Equestrian royalty. There were over 800 thousand ponies from around Equestria in attendance. Her acceptance speech - 'A little while ago-'"

"Dad!" The other pony, a unicorn mare that shared his same coat and mane coloration, interrupted him.

"Hm?" her father seemed to snap out of a trance of his own, looking embarrassed. "Oh, I did the thing again, didn't I?" His daughter nodded gently. "Was I reciting? I'm awfully sorry about that, sometimes I just can't help myself. My name is Archive, and - oh, you don't look so well."

Twilight shook her head vigorously. "I'm - I'm fine. I just kinda got lost in thought." She blinked, and in that split-second, she saw the text of a book that she recognized.

"Flashbacks?" the mare asked her knowingly, "pleasant ones, it seems."

"How did you know?"

"That's likely my fault, I'm afraid," Archive answered, shaking his head sadly as pawed the ground with his hoof. "I just kind of give off this energy and..." He stopped speaking, and his eyes widened as he looked at Twilight, then to his daughter. "Record, is this your new friend? You have to introduce us!"

His daughter, Record, just smiled at him warmly and nodded her head. Twilight was reminded fleetingly of Fluttershy's composure.

"Oh... we've met already, haven't we?" he finished.

"Yes. Her name is Twilight, and she's here to meet with the Cabinet of Seers," Record turned to Twilight with a raised eyebrow. "You are here to meet the Seers, right?"

"Um, yes..." Twilight answered, looking at Archive with trepidation. "Are you alright?"

Archive frowned for the first time since they met. "My memory is a bit iffy, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"But, my coronation? How did you-"

"His short-term memory is a bit iffy," Record corrected him. "His recollection of everything else is virtually photographic. It just takes some time to... process it, so to speak."

"I see," Twilight said with fascination. "That's rather-"

"Ironic?" Archive interrupted again. "That's what Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, well more Princess Luna really, said when we first met. 'How ironic it is to remember-'"

"Dad..." Record's voice dripped with patience.

"The thing?"

"Mm-hm."

Twilight giggled at the exchange between the two. It was like a strange version of what one might experience with an elderly pony in a retirement home. Twilight noticed with some curiosity however, that despite their seemingly paternal relationship, Archive and Record looked to be roughly the same age.

"Well, Princess Twilight, allow me to introduce you to one of the cabinet members," Record gestured to Archive with her hoof. Archive waved jovially at the princess, who returned the gesture with some semblance of surprise.

"You're one of the Seers?"

"Archive, at your service," the stallion bowed down gracefully. "It's an honor to meet you, Princess Twilight."

"The honor is mine," Twilight returned the bow. "I apologize if I seem out of it, this whole thing just isn't what I was expecting."

"On that note," Record said. "We should get going to the Vestibule. The others are waiting for us."

"Did you know that I was coming?"

"Sort of," Record shrugged as she walked towards the village. "I'll explain on the way." She raised an eyebrow at Archive, who had begun to walk the path towards the obelisk that Twilight had arrived from. Record chuckled softly and called out to his back. "Come on, dad. We've got to get back to the others."

"Record, somepony just came through the portal. Axiom told us to go and meet them," he turned around to look at his daughter, his look of annoyance giving way to a sheepish grin. "We... already met them didn't we? You're..." he analyzed Twilight with squinting eyes. "You're Twilight Sparkle, right?"

"That's right," Twilight answered with a grin of her own.

"Well, let's get back to the Vestibule. Just follow Record - you've met my daughter, yes?" Archive sauntered past Twilight, whereupon she noticed the large black book emblazoned upon his flank. Her mind was populated once again with another bizarrely pleasant image - a cake with two candles on it.

Record stood by and allowed her father in front of her. "We're going to the others, remember?"

"Of course, thank you. Record, would you make sure Princess Twilight comes with us?"

"I will," Record said as the mare motioned with her head at Twilight to walk alongside her. Twilight obliged happily, only too eager to learn more about what in the world she had gotten herself into. Twilight slowed her excited walk to keep pace with Record, who glanced at her for a moment before returning focus on the stallion in front of her.

"From what Alumni has told me, you are quite the studious pony," Record mentioned to Twilight, "so I imagine you probably have a lot of questions."

"That's an understatement," Twilight replied as the trio ambled past a set of marble pillars marking the official entrance to the village. Despite the motif of marble that Twilight noted thus far, the homes inside of the village were made from a comparably rustic deep brown wood. "First, who is Alumni, and second-"

"-How does he know who you are?" Record finished her sentence for her.

"...Right." Twilight answered slowly. This was the second time that Record had seemingly known what she was thinking. And, as if she knew that Twilight suspected it, the mare was quick to answer for it.

"Oh! Please don't think me rude, your highness," Record looked at Twilight, her normally demure tone awash with flecks of desperation. "I kinda have this, I don't want to call it an ability, because I can't really control it, but I can sort of... see what you're going to say and do, before you say and do it, kind of. Not just with you, but like...everypony."

"Oh my, um..." Twilight's didn't quite know what to say, or do, to reply to that.

"Not me!" Archive stopped and called over his shoulder, "Um, what were we doing again?"

"The Seers!" Record cried up to him, eliciting an excited nod from Archive. Turning to Twilight, Record nodded in agreement. "He's right. Not him, or anypony else that lives here. Just like normal ponies in Equestria. Sometimes I have a hard time reminding myself that it's not polite to finish other pony's sentences. I'm not used to it here."

"Another question then; where are we?" Twilight fired off as quickly as she could so as to not give leeway for another interruption.

"We call it Eres," Record told her, "home of the Cabinet of Seers. Alumni is another Seer, just like my father is."

"And you?"

"Oh no," she shook her head. "I'm just family."

"Family..." Twilight looked around at the plethora of wooden houses surrounding them. "Do you live here?"

"Sure do. There are only seven Seers, the rest of these homes belong to their families."

"Families live here?" Twilight could hardly fathom the thought that entire communities could fit neatly into a broom closet. Record must have 'seen' Twilight ask the question before Twilight could ask it.

"We don't see it as 'living in a broom closet'," she said. "In reality, Eres is every bit as big, rich, and beautiful as Equestria is. It just operates a little differently."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for one thing, this world mostly takes care of itself. Like, weather-wise and such. The moon and sun rise and set on their own too."

This whole world operated like the Everfree Forest, Twilight thought to herself with an involuntary shudder. "But then... how do you-"

"We've adapted. It's mostly us reacting to the world, instead of the world reacting to us. It keeps things here unpredictable, which has served to keep us sane," Record added as the three ponies stepped into what could best be described as the town square, located at the base of the large crystalline chapel that served as their destination.

"Why do you say that?"

Record walked alongside a patch of dark purple flowers below a fountain statue bearing a young bearded unicorn's likeness. Water spouted forth from the unicorn's horn, spilling into the basin below. Surrounding the statue was a stone ring that held the water, and there were four identical devices placed along the top of the ring. She approached one of the devices and pointed to it.

"Time," she answered. "Do you recognize what this is?"

Twilight looked closer at it. It looked to be a wooden pyramid, truncated at the top. On the front was a silver rod with what appeared to be a weighted end, extending from the base and sticking out to the far right. "It's a metronome? But it's stuck... mid swing? How is that possible?" Twilight looked at the other three metronomes around the fountain, and the pendulum was in the same spot for all of them.

"Time doesn't really move here for us. The day and night cycle, the flora, they all operate on a different timeline than ponies do. One that existed before we arrived, thanks to Starswirl the Bearded," Record followed Twilight's gaze to the unicorn depicted on the statue. Twilight didn't recognize him at first - she hadn't seen many depictions of him as a younger pony, but the golden bell at the tip of his wizard's hat was as telltale a sign as any. "Ponies that come here from Equestria, and the things that they bring... time stops for them."

Twilight's mind was running at a million miles an hour, trying to fathom the implications of what Record was saying. During all of the research Twilight had done on the Cabinet of Seers, she had just assumed they were a bunch of ponies that filled a position as an advisor, retired, then got replaced. But, the books never mentioned when the Cabinet of Seers was formed. If what Record was saying about time in Eres was true, and that the Cabinet of Seers lived here... then could that mean-

"Record, how old is your father?" Twilight blurted, "how old are you?"

Archive looked at Twilight with an almost melancholic expression, his lips pursed. "That's a very difficult question to answer," he said. Record wore a similarly unsure look upon her face.

"We've been around for a while... a very long while."

Twilight didn't know what to make of what she was being told. She had even more questions than before, if such a thing were possible. She looked down at the ground, muttering to herself quietly. Then, as she witnessed her own purple hoof bouncing in anticipation, she jumped to another conclusion.

"Since I'm here, does that mean that I-"

"No," Record cut her off. "You haven't stopped aging, not yet. I'm sure you felt that 'tingling' when you first came here, and are probably still feeling it now, right?"

The alicorn took a deep breath, trying to separate her own excitement from this discovery to the magical sensation that enveloped her. It was still there, less potent than when she had first arrived through the portal, but still there. She nodded shakily.

"It happens when I go to Equestria too. That tingling is your body adapting to the 'time difference,' so to speak. It takes a while for ponies to assimilate, for lack of a better word." Record paused and ran her hoof slowly along the edge of the metronome's base. "Not so for these though."

"I don't understand," Twilight replied, hoping that her utterance of the phrase wouldn't get annoying in light of her many questions.

"Whenever the door to Equestria is opened, its..." Record bit her lip, unsure of how to continue. "The way that time flows in Equestria comes through the portal too. As soon as you opened the door, the metronomes started clicking again. When it closed, they stopped."

"So that's how-"

"We knew that you were coming, yes," Record said.

"Record!" Archive called to her. "You're doing the thing again! And we've got to... what do we have to do again?"

Record blushed and rubbed her temple with a hoof. "Do I keep interrupting you? I don't mean to, honest! For me, it's like you've already said it!"

Twilight waved her hoof dismissively. Being interrupted seemed like a small price to pay for what she was learning here. "It's fine. Why is it just me though?"

"Your 'time line' hasn't adjusted yet, and it's still moving forward," Archive answered. "That's why my daughter's foresight is still working on you."

Twilight looked back at Archive, and then to his daughter. Again, she noted how similar they looked in age. She noticed Record's cutie mark, an hour glass with all of the sand at the bottom half, and she thought of another question.

"If you don't-"

"I don't mind you asking at all, Twilight," Record told her. "Shortly before my father came here, he and my mother had me in Equestria. I spent probably... twenty five years or so growing up there. I'm sure you understand why that was."

Twilight could hazard a guess. If time and aging stopped in Eres, it would be impossible for a filly to mature or grow here.

"I was about thirty, your time, when I first came here," Archive explained. "I felt just terrible leaving my family back in Equestria, but for their sake, it was the best thing I could have done," he stepped over to his daughter and rubbed her shoulder tenderly with his muzzle. "We're still making up for lost time."

When Archive spoke, Twilight glimpsed, for just a moment, another flash of, this time of her parents waving to her. She couldn't place at first where she had seen it before, but then she remembered - her first day of kindergarten! She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt a sense of dread as a result.

"My foresight started kicking in when I was twenty," Record continued, "It was cool at first. Helped me become a fairly successful author in Equestria, using the name P.F. Visions, and I even wrote a book about what my experience was like dealing with seeing into the future like that. But, as I grew older, I started seeing further and further into the future actions of other ponies, and my life started falling apart."

Twilight looked puzzlingly at her. Surely seeing into the future would have been a good thing? "But-"

"No, it wasn't," the unicorn mare shook her head sadly. "I felt like I was stuck in some horrible loop, reacting to things that hadn't happened, and nopony else could understand what I was going through. I lost all of my friends, and shut myself away so that I wouldn't have to deal with the sheer inevitability of everything. That's when Princess Celestia approached me and offered for me to come here."

"All of it my fault, I fear," Archive sighed, his gaze having pointed downward. "It's likely that she inherited her abilities from me."

"It's not your fault, dad," Record said comfortingly, "and I certainly don't hold it against you. Look at all of the time we've had to spend together because of it!"

Twilight was didn't know what, if anything, she should say. Behind the two other ponies, and beyond the fountain, she saw the crystal chapel, what Record and Archive referred to as "the Vestibule," and remembered that she was expected by the rest of the Cabinet. She didn't feel comfortable interrupting, but-

"Twilight's right," Record announced. "We should get going. Axiom and the others are waiting for us."

"I had a feeling that's what we were supposed to be doing! Let's get to it," Archive agreed, pivoting in place and making his way past the flower patch to the Vestibule.

Twilight chuckled in disbelief, and followed suit, taking just a moment to eye the frozen metronomes with wonder as they trotted past.

Dreaming Wide Awake

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Twilight remembered seeing the crystalline tower from the door to Canterlot's castle, but it didn't dawn on her until she was staring up, neck craned, at the sparkling structure from its base just how majestic the Vestibule truly was. It reminded her of the first time she had travelled to the Crystal Empire, feeling that same sense of awe and wonder, while also contemplating the logistics of how the shimmering structures were formed.

"Right, well," Record said, disrupting Twilight's mental image of a pony on an obscenely tall ladder with a chisel and hammer, "here we are."

Like the Vestibule itself, the comparably humble wooden doors were also larger up close, more akin to the throne room in Canterlot Castle than a typical tower door. Then again, Celestia was larger than all of her subjects, and the Seers were there for her to consult with, so the bigger size made sense.

"Thank you, dear," Archive embraced his daughter in a quick hug, messing her blonde mane with a caress of his hoof. "I'll see you after?"

"Of course," Record nodded warmly, turning to face Twilight. "You'll make sure he gets to me when you are finished? Our house is just over there," she pointed to a sizeable wooden cabin at the edge of the town square. It bore a wooden sign depicting a large black book above the front porch, the same as Archive's cutie mark.

Twilight turned from the castle, and looked from the house back to Record with a look of confusion on her face. "Certainly," she answered, "aren't you coming with?"

"Oh no," Record shook her head firmly, "Only the Seers and royalty can be present during an um... session," her face screwed up as the unicorn tried to find the best way to phrase it.

Twilight's bit her lip, her anticipation and nervousness growing in tandem. "I see." The large door behind her opened, with a quiet softness that betrayed its size, at the hoof of Archive.

"Mares first," he gestured cheerfully with his free hoof to the inside of the Vestibule. Almost immediately, Twilight felt her body tingling once again. Even without being able to clearly see inside the relatively dark building, Twilight could tell that there was some extremely powerful magic at work.

"Thank you," Twilight offered politely. She took a deep breath, and stepped over the threshold, her eyes already adjusting to the dimness of the interior. Like the exterior, the entryway was formed of an indescribable mix of pink, purple, and blue crystal, the colors shifting constantly in the flickering lighting provided by a series of more Pheonixwood torches on both sides of the hallway. The door came to a muffled close behind her, and Archive trotted past Twilight with a noticeable absence of trepidation that Twilight felt. The entryway was surprisingly short, and another set of wooden double doors lay in wait at the opposite end.

"Come along, Twilight! Before I forget why we're here," Archive joked as he put his hoof on the second set of doors. Twilight nodded slowly, and stepped towards him. Inside the Vestibule, the magical tingling she felt was even more intense, the energy seemingly engulfing the air. Archive's chipper exclamation had no echo in the glassy hall, as if the sound was absorbed by said energy.

From the darkness of the hallway, a bright white light shone brilliantly from the doorway as Archive pushed it open. Twilight closed her eyes reflexively, and her mind began to race with various memories; Looking down at her brother as he gently tossed young Twilight up and down playfully in their parents den, her hoof reaching out to a slice of pumpkin pie from her foal seat, and a wooden block with the letters A & B flickering in a purple glow. The memories vanished as quickly as they came, but Twilight's nervousness was replaced by a familiar happiness and excitement. She opened her eyes again and gasped.

The room on the other side of the doors was essentially a hollow pyramid, the blindingly bright light from before having now adjusted to a comfortable glow. The sunlight shone through the tall sloped crystalline ceiling, the room below awash in dancing rainbow hues. The center of the room itself was barren, save for what appeared to be the back of large chair resting on the polished floor, directly underneath the tip of the building. Surrounding that chair, Twilight saw six other ornately decorated seats, three on either side. Five of them were accompanied by a pony. One of whom had hopped from his seat approaching her.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle," the dark grey earth pony announced with an unexpected intensity, as he came to a halt before her. He bent his front knees and bowed down before her, his muzzle practically touching the floor, and his stark white mane flopped to cover his forehead. His greeting carried a voice that was fairly deep and had a slight rasp to it. Unlike Archive, this pony was clearly older, and more in line with Twilight's original expectations for the Cabinet of Seers. Though, Twilight was quick to remind herself to keep those expectations in check. "At long last, we get to meet."

Twilight returned the bow sheepishly, noticing that the other ponies in the room had all bowed down as well. "Likewise," she replied, trying to think of something more substantial to say. "You can just call me Twilight," she defaulted to lamely, the phrase having become familiar to her in recent talks with Scootaloo.

The earth pony before stood up straight, looking at her with eyes that matched his coat. "If you wish it, your highness. I forget, you must have just had your coronation," he remarked, his gaze shifting to Archive standing behind Twilight. He received a nod in return from the unicorn. Twilight immediately felt uncomfortable, the pleasantness from the flashbacks all but gone; they seemed to know all about her, and yet she knew next to nothing about them. The pony in front of her offered another grin, a genuinely good natured one that seemed to quell Twilight's discomfort instantly.

"We didn't mean to make you nervous," he told her calmly, his rasp vanishing almost entirely. "We've been working together for so long, we can sometimes communicate what we mean without needing to actually say it aloud. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are quite used to it, yet I did not consider that you wouldn't be. It's been a long time since we've spoken to another princess," he explained.

"I um... I see," Twilight supposed she could relate. With the notable exception of Pinkie Pie, she could sometimes predict how her friends would answer a question before she asked it. Nevertheless, she preferred to give them the opportunity anyways. The comment about another princess made her feel less at ease again, even more self-aware that she was, in fact, a princess of Equestria. The other pony smiled again softly, knowingly.

"You shouldn't doubt yourself, your highness," he told her, the addressing as a royal figure not unnoticed by Twilight. "You were made a princess for a reason." Behind him, the ponies seated around the throne nodded and chattered in agreement.

Twilight sighed deeply, with just a trace of frustration. To her surprise, it elicited a chuckle from the stallion before her.

"I'd have thought you would take comfort in hearing that from ponies that can see the future."

Twilight's ears perked up at the declaration. Not only for his perfectly valid point, but also for the mention of the reason why she was talking to him in the first place. It was a perfect way to lead in to the conversation.

"Thank you," she told him with a curt nod, "I'm certain I'll get there in time. I'm sure you know that one of my responsibilities is the Princess' Blessing, and I'm actually here is to find out how you can see the future." Twilight felt a touch embarrassed at how simply she had described the process, but the pony seemed to understand where she was coming from.

"As is expected of a princess. That said, how we can see the future is probably a more accurate way of putting it," he gestured with a wide sweep of his front leg towards the other ponies in the room. One of whom, a unicorn female, offered a wave of her hoof in return. "Twilight, allow me to introduce you to the Cabinet of Seers," Axiom spoke as he began to walk to the central chair, Twilight following closely behind him. "Please, take a seat. This one is yours."

Twilight circled around the backside of the central chair, only to find that it wasn't a chair at all - rather, it was a throne, one that bore a striking resemblance to Princess Celestia's back in Canterlot. A towering crimson oval wrought of velvet upholstery was surrounded by a golden frame and composed the back, and several cushions of the same crimson material made up the seat itself. Throne aside, what piqued Twilight's interest the most was that another pony was revealed to be in the room, previously obscured from where Twilight had been standing by the chair. Unlike the other five ponies (Archive had taken his seat to the right of the throne), this young female unicorn appeared to be sleeping in a small white bed. Were it not for her body gently rising and falling with each breath, Twilight would not have noticed her and her bright white coat against the ivory bedsheets.

"Is she-" Twilight began to ask.

"That's Antenna," the earth pony interrupted her as he absentmindedly scrubbed at a smudge on the golden frame of Twilight's throne, "and she's just fine, don't worry."

"Oh... okay," Twilight said uneasily, looking around at the other ponies staring at her curiously. She couldn't wait for the pony she had been speaking with to properly introduce them, and himself, to her. The pony was still scrubbing at the frame, though what he was cleaning Twilight wasn't sure. The golden outline of the throne looked pristine. "So, that's Antenna," she repeated as casually as she could muster in her situation to get his attention, "but I don't believe I ever got your name."

Her plan worked, and the earth pony stopped polishing immediately, his gray cheeks tinted with a shade of pink. "Oh my, I'm so sorry! You're the first new princess here in such a long time - slipped my mind. My name is Axiom," Axiom bowed down again as if in apology.

"It's nice to meet you, Axiom," Twilight returned the introduction. "I take it you're the leader, or head of the Seers?"

Axiom looked around at the other Seers, the glow in his cheeks still present. "Leader? No, not quite," he bit his lip. "I would say my role is that of-"

"Coordinator!" came a voice from the third chair on the left from Antenna's bed. This pony, a pegasus, had a plain brown coat and a dark black mane on his head. He wasn't looking at Twilight or Axiom, just looking straight ahead, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

"Precisely!" Axiom agreed, "coordinator is a great way to describe it. Thank you, Appear." The spectacled stallion nodded his head, still looking straight ahead. Puzzled, Twilight opened her mouth to ask, once again, if the Seer's somewhat strange behavior was considered normal. Appear beat her to the punch.

"If you were wondering, Princess Twilight, I'm blind," he said simply, turning to "look" at Twilight's mildly surprised expression. "If you think there's an irony in a blind pony being a 'Seer,' you're right," he said with a wry smile. "Just wait until later."

"Yes, that's Appear," Axiom repeated to Twilight. "Despite his rather uncouth delivery, he makes a good point - you'll find that a rather strange irony defines us. Please, take a seat, and I'll introduce you to the rest," he patted the cushions of the throne with his hoof, a barely audible thump sounding. Twilight reluctantly trod to the throne and sat down upon it, uttering an involuntary gasp as she actually sunk into the layer of cushions below her.

"Could we introduce ourselves to Princess Twilight?" asked the demure voice of the female earth pony sitting next to Appear. "Goodness knows we don't get the chance to do it often," she added for emphasis, flipping her straight blue mane back out of her face with a jerk of her head. Around her neck was a silver compass on a matching chain.

Axiom frowned at her with a hint of disapproval. "We don't do it often, Atlas. Perhaps that is why you forgot that not all of us can."

The mare, Atlas, blinked and gazed at him for a moment with her bright green eyes. They widened for a moment, and then an almost indiscernible pink appeared upon her face. She looked towards the remaining unintroduced Seers and offered a frazzled apology down the line of chairs.

"Oh, right... sorry, Alumni..."

Alumni was a name that Twilight had heard before - Record had mentioned that "Alumni knew who she was." As Twilight followed the turned heads of the Seers, all whom were looking at a young unicorn stallion sitting immediately to the right of Antenna's bed, she noticed that this pony, presumably Alumni, scarcely seemed to notice that he had been inadvertently offended and apologized to. He seemed more bothered by the ponies staring at him than anything else.

"Is something the matter?" his voice cracked as he whipped his head back and forth to the staring ponies.

"Never mind," Axiom told him gently, his voice once again devoid of his elderly rasp.

"Oh, okay," Alumni shrugged. "Thanks, Axiom. It's nice to meet you, Princess Twilight Sparkle," he added politely to the perplexed princess. Alumni lifted his right foreleg to his barrel, and subsequently extended the limb out in front of him, exhaling at the same time. "Just relax, your highness. You'll get the hang of your princess duty in no time."

Twilight was baffled at the display. Alumni had just emulated her and Princess Cadence's method of calming down in a stressful situation, a gesture that Twilight had used frequently following her coronation. Did she do it often enough that the Seers knew she did it? She suppose she shouldn't have been surprised, but it caught her off guard nonetheless. Baffled, she looked at Axiom with a raised eyebrow.

"How... Why?"

"I'll explain in a moment, Twilight," Axiom told her anxiously, as he pointed back to Atlas. "This, this is Atlas."

Despite her flustered appearance, Atlas offered a well composed greeting after clearing her throat. "It's good to finally meet you, Princess Twilight."

Twilight made no effort to disguise her flustered appearance, and mumbled a quiet "you too" looking down at the floor.

"That's my seat, and you already know Antenna, Alumni, and Archive. That leaves us with Audile," Axiom finished the introductions with the bright pink unicorn mare in the far right seat, the one that waved at Twilight when she first entered the room. Audile was watching Axiom and Twilight intently with her horn alight in a blue aura, and resting in her lap was a whiteboard. A green marker was furiously scribbling on the board under the manipulation of Audile's blue magical glow, and the marker came to a jarring halt. Audile lifted the board up, showing her writings to Twilight and Axiom.

PTS: How, why?
Ax: I'll explain in a moment, Twilight. This, this is Atlas.
At: It's good to finally meet you, Princess Twilight.
PTS: ???
Ax: That's my seat, and you already know Antenna, Alumni, and Archive. That leaves us with Audile.
Me: Hello, Princess Twilight! My name is Audile, and it's a pleasure to meet you!

"...it's a pleasure to meet you," Twilight read aloud quietly. The alicorn wondered why Audile communicated in such a fashion, but with just a modicum of thought it became very obvious. This pony didn't, or couldn't, speak.

"I'm glad to meet you too, Audile," Twilight replied to the sound of the marker squeaking against the whiteboard, Audile staring with concentration at her face all the while. Suddenly, it clicked. Lip reading - she seemed to be deaf as well.

Twilight didn't quite know what to make of all of this. Everything that she had encountered since this morning had defied her expectations in the strangest ways she could have imagined. None of it was bad, just... different. She had expected a group of sagacious, graceful, almost intimidating ponies with a tangible presence of wisdom about them. Instead, the Cabinet of Seers were a group of normal looking, if a bit quirky, ponies. Try as she might, she couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, and the look on her face must have mirrored that.

"I get the feeling that our first impressions didn't quite match your expectations," Axiom said, a downright uncanny explanation of how Twilight actually felt.

"No!" Twilight exclaimed, but she could tell from Axiom's face that he knew otherwise. "Well... sort of. In all honesty, I don't really know what I was expecting."

"To be fair," Axiom began, "I don't think anypony would have expected a farmer, a stuntpony, a fashionista, a veterinarian, a party animal, and a bookworm to be the wielders of the Elements of Harmony. Yet..."

"...You're right. I guess I never thought of it that way," Twilight admitted. And she hadn't - she and her friends had saved Equestria several times over, and upon first glance, they all seemed as normal as could be. Also like the Seers, they all had their quirks too. Not as immediately apparent, perhaps, but they were quirks nonetheless.

"Sometimes, it's just about perspective," Axiom said. "On that note, with introductions out of the way, what do you say we begin?"

Twilight's eyes widened. "Begin? Begin what?"

"A demonstration, of course! To see how we work firsthoof," Axiom explained as he took his place in the vacant chair next to Antenna's bed.

"Okay," Twilight gulped nervously, once again feeling woefully unprepared. "What um... what do I need to do?"

"Just relax, your highness," came the voice of young Alumni, "you don't need to do anything." That was twice now that this colt had fittingly told Twilight to calm herself, though Twilight supposed that in this instance, her anxiety was a bit more obvious.

"Yeah, just do what I do. Close your eyes and take a deep breath... heh," Appear grinned, adjusting his sunglasses while Atlas rolled her eyes at the joke from her seat beside him.

"Awful, simply awful," she muttered.

The self-directed ribbing served its purpose for Twilight though, and she felt more at ease. If there was room for humor, surely the demonstration couldn't be as ominous as she was imagining?

Archive was audibly giggling from his seat. "Yeah, don't worry. We picked this one out especially for when we would meet you... though, it was a bit difficult finding a good one. Both of you were cut off pretty early on."

Just like that, the relief had vanished, and Twilight felt a stab of panic. Especially for her? Both of you? Both of who? She looked pleadingly at Axiom for help to her silent questions, but he simply nodded his head in understanding.

"I'll explain afterwards," he told her gently. "Ready, everyone?" he looked to his left and right at the other Seers, all of whom nodded back in excited affirmation. Except for the sleeping Antenna, who instead began to shimmer in a pale glow that Twilight almost didn't notice against her snowy coat and bedsheets. Twilight heard a steady humming sound that intensified as Antenna's aura did. And then she heard, and saw, nothing.

Twilight found herself no longer sitting in a plush red throne in a crystalline chamber, but in what she could best describe as a pitch black void. She could feel her hooves walking forwards, but it wasn't by her command. Twilight tried to look down to see her rogue legs moving, but her head remained staring forward into the blackness. Again, she tried to stop herself from walking further into the nothingness, but her thoughts were completely disconnected from the rest of her. Immediately, she began to panic, but she instead felt an overwhelming sense of annoyance.

Why was she annoyed? Sure, being completely out of control of what she was doing could be seen as irritating, but it was more terrifying than anything else. But try as she might, her own fears gave way to the sensation of being thoroughly annoyed instead.

"Appear?" Axiom's voice sounded all around her, and Twilight grew even more confused. "Can you shed some light on this?"
Appear's voice spoke next, at the same volume as Axiom's, and the direction just as unfathomable. "I'm waiting on Atlas to lock the location in, chief."

"Sorry, sorry!" Atlas's feminine voice rang out, "I was distracted, thinking about your stupid joke. We're there."

"Hehe, got stuck in your minds eye, did it?" Appear replied. No sooner than his disembodied voice finished his pun, the black void engulfing Twilight erupted into a burst of color and light. The shift didn't blind her, however - it was like it was there all along, just... not. She didn't ponder the phenomenon for long, once she recognized exactly where she was.

She knew this hallway anywhere, for it was a staple for her first year of school - magic kindergarten. And though she hadn't been to that particular schoolhouse in many years, it was exactly as she remembered it. The laminate tiles on the floor, alternating black and white. The salmon colored walls that even when she attended as a filly, Twilight thought to be a pretty obnoxious color. It seemingly hadn't changed at all since she attended. Well, except for one thing.

Twilight's body navigated the hallway, passing by several unicorn colts and fillies, and she approached the gold framed door of a classroom with the words "Magic Kindergarten - Miss Pommelroy" embossed upon it. Miss Pommelroy was her kindergarten teacher, and this was the door to her classroom - only, Twilight distinctly remembered it being taller. In her eagerness to learn about the ways of magic, Twilight would often arrive before all of the other students and teachers, and she found out much to her disappointment that she could not reach the handle to get inside and read the various books on the shelves within. Now, however, the handle seemed to be at a comfortable chest level.

She wanted to use magic to open the door, but instead, her white foreleg raised upwards to the nameplate, and her dark blue hoof rapped silently against the wood. But Twilight didn't have white fur, or dark blue hooves. What was going on? She wanted to open her mouth to ask the seemingly omniscient voices of the Seers, but she had a feeling that, if she couldn't move of her own free will, she couldn't speak either. The annoyed sensation that she was experiencing suddenly became more relatable. Before she could ponder her dilemma further, the silence that Twilight hadn't even noticed dissolved, replaced by the sounds of an uncharacteristically quiet schoolhouse. She could hear the fillies and colts that she had just walked past chattering in high pitched excitement, and the numerous clopping sounds of ponies walking along the hall behind her became distinctively apparent.

"Sorry it took so long, everypony," said a bright and cheery female voice that Twilight didn't recognize. "Princess Twilight's reactions were just so much fun to listen to, and I sort of spaced out."

"She can hear you, Audile," Axiom's voice sounded blithely, and Twilight's thoughts began to race again. Audile, the seemingly deaf-mute pony, was talking to her? And apparently heard her? But Twilight didn't say anything - not aloud anyways. Did that mean...

"Come in," said another female voice. This one Twilight recognized as belonging to her former teacher, and the voice wasn't surrounding her like the Seers were - instead, Twilight could very clearly determine that it was coming from behind the door that her discolored hooves had knocked on. The handle was enveloped in a light blue aura, and it twisted downward while the door was pushed open.

As Miss Pommelroy came into view beyond the threshold, Twilight was slowly piecing together what was happening here. She didn't have white fur - but she knew who did. She was short in stature when attending Magic Kindergarten - but she knew who wasn't. And the light blue aura of magic was one that she remembered so keenly as having illuminated her bedtime stories while they were being read to her at night as a filly. If Twilight's suspicions were right, then she wasn't Twilight at all right now. She was-

"Shining Armor, how lovely to see you again!" Miss Pommelroy exclaimed. "It's not often that my students come back to see me after moving on to the first grade, but you always were a special pony! It must run in the family."

The annoyance that Twilight felt subsided for a second, replaced instead by a wave of strong embarassment. The colors of the classroom pulsed, becoming sharper and more vivid in tandem with the sensation, and the sounds from the hall behind her peaked in volume as well. Twilight felt her (his?) cheeks burning, and then her mouth opened to speak. Shining Armor's voice sounded instead, prefaced by a nervous chuckle.

"Haha... it's good to see you again too, ma'am," Shining Armor said, "I'm afraid I can't stay though. I was actually looking for Twily - Twilight my erm, sister. She was supposed to meet me twenty minutes ago at the front steps."

Miss Pommelroy frowned exaggeratedly, her expression quickly morphing into a grin. "Of course you were, Shiny." The sights and sounds of the classroom pulsed once again as the fading embarrassment returned in full force at the mention of Shining Armor's familial nickname. "Have you tried looking at the library? She's read every book in here several times over, so she's probably getting her fill there. I've never seen a pony so devoted to reading about magic before. Your parents really ought to consider enrolling her to Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns."

Twilight felt, much to her surprise, the unmistakably piercing sting of jealousy. The room didn't pulse like before, but the color scheme of the room flickered for just a moment, showering the room in a faint reddish tint.

"They already have her entrance exam scheduled for the next school year," Shining Armor said with a sigh. "But yeah, the library definitely sounds like her. I'll go check it out," he said as shuffled backwards out of the door and into the hallway. "Thank you, Miss Pommelroy," he called absentmindedly over his shoulder as he moved past the group of young students, who were now regarding him with curious stares. Twilight and Shining Armor made "their" way towards the school library, the feeling of annoyance taking center stage. Twilight felt incredibly guilty, as she could detect a tangible sliver of resentment as well.

"Princess Twilight," Axiom's voice spoke once more, surrounding her and her brother. Shining Armor's pace didn't adjust one iota to the magical voice coming from out of nowhere, so Twilight assumed that only she could hear it. "I take it you have a good estimate of exactly what we're doing?"

Twilight did, but she didn't know how to reply.

"Just think it aloud, your highness," Axiom informed her with bizarre timeliness. "We'll all hear it."

"We're reliving my brother's memory," Twilight thought with deliberation. It seemed to do the trick.

"You're close," Axiom said. "We're reliving events from his perspective, the details filled in by the emotional significance he gives them."

Twilight did her best to hide her confusion, but given the mode of communication, it was impossible.

"Let me try and explain it like this, your highness. Do you remember, perfectly, everything that happened when Nightmare Moon returned?" Axiom mused to her.

"I think so," Twilight thought as she did her best to recall that fateful night. "I guess not perfectly, no."

"I wouldn't expect you to. Memories have this penchant for fading as time goes on, or for being skewed by personal biases or experiences. Everypony remembers the same thing differently. That's where emotions come into play."

"I don't understand," Twilight tried to think as clearly as she could, careful to separate the theories swimming in her head with what she was trying to communicate.

"Now, let me ask you. Do you remember how you felt that night?"

Scared was the big one. Confused was another. And of course, the relief when she and her friends had discovered the spark of friendship.

"Exactly," Axiom said. "You were frustrated when Princess Celestia seemingly disregarded your theory, you were annoyed with the errands you had been assigned, though you still felt a touch of pride that Celestia had entrusted you with them. You were upset at the party interrupting your sleep, and terrified when Princess Luna announced her plans. You alternated between fear, doubt, and hope as you and your companions navigated the Everfree Forest, and you experienced an overwhelming happiness and clarity as you discovered you and your friends magical connection via the Elements of Harmony, and enormous sense of relief when Princess Celestia returned once Nightmare Moon was defeated."

Twilight wondered what exactly her jumbled thoughts sounded like to the other Seers at that moment. Everything Axiom had said was entirely true, and Twilight found herself reliving, albeit in a vastly accelerated time frame, the events of that evening and the morning after. Of course, that was when-

"And then, you experienced a sadness that you had never known before, as you prepared to leave your newfound friends," Axiom continued, "followed by yet another incredible surge of joy when you were allowed to stay in Ponyville with your friends. Now, did you remember more when you relied on your memories, or your emotions?"

Though Twilight felt the process was helped along by Axiom describing her feelings in relation to the events of that night, she understood what he was getting at.

"Ponies may not remember what exactly happens in their lives, but they will assuredly remember how they felt when it happened. And that, your highness, is how we see things," Axiom said definitively. "We navigate emotional connections formed between ponies, and use the spectrum of emotions shared and experienced universally as a means of dovetailing a timeline that we can read."

The theory made sense, though Twilight couldn't pinpoint exactly why. And while Twilight still didn't understand exactly HOW the process worked, based on what she was witnessing now, it very clearly did. From how Axiom seemed to be coordinating (Appear chose a good word to describe him, Twilight noted) the others, the Seers each had a part to play in translating those moments from the aforementioned timeline to something that could be seen and understood. Twilight began to think of how best to phrase the question asking how, but was quickly distracted by the sight of a familar set of double doors. She, and her brother, were approaching the schoolhouse library, where apparently Twilight's kindergarten self was laying in wait. Twilight felt a rush at the thought of seeing herself as a filly. What would that be like?

"Twily, I hope you don't mind me pulling you away from your precious books," Shining Armor muttered under his breath as he pushed the doors open, his attempt at secrecy offering little considering the observing party's method. "It's not like I've got an Oubliettes and Ogres session with the guys that I'm already late for or anything."

The reason for the annoyance that had pervaded the entire suddenly became obvious to Twilight, and she felt just horrible about it. Though one wouldn't guess it by his position today, Shining Armor was a major fan of "geeky" role playing games all throughout his school years, and he loved to spend his free afternoons with his other like-minded friends. Today, or whatever day it was in the vision, Twilight was supposed to have met him outside so they could walk home together... but Twilight had instead lost track of time in the library, something she had a knack for doing even then. As far as Twilight knew, it wasn't a big deal - but now that she could see, sense, and hear what exactly her brother felt about it...

Twilight's desire for knowledge was fleetingly replaced by a strong desire to stop the vision and leave the Seers and the Vestibule. She felt so much better not knowing. Though she knew that Axiom and the others could hear her wishes, the vision didn't stop. It continued, and the annoyance changed to curiosity when Shining Armor heard a party of voices talking within the library.

"What are you reading today?" asked a male voice hidden among the bookshelves, amplified by the emptiness of the room. "Twenty Three Simple Spells Every Unicorn Should Know? And what's this - Bookworm To Wyrmslayer: A Colt's Quest To Knighthood?"

The gears in Twilight's head started to turn. She knew those books. And she knew who the voice belonged to, a troublesome colt named Devlin that would likely never step hoof in a library unless he was forced to. Twilight distinctly recalled that, once she discovered the joys of the library, she also had the misfortune of meeting two ponies that, as punishment for some array of misdeeds, were sentenced to spend time after school organizing it. Twilight supposed she could see how some might consider that task punishment, but given how Devlin and his friend would pester Twilight to finish their homework for them, she suspected that arranging books by name was more of a chore for them than the relaxing bliss that it was for her.

If what was happening in the vision was what Twilight thought it was, than surely Devlin's friend, another rabble-rouser name Danforth, was with him. She wasn't wrong.

"Bwahaha! Let me see that one!" Danforth's voice joined in from amidst the shelves.

"Hey! Give that back!" pleaded the familiar voice of a filly. "Those books are my responsibility!"

"Tch, you really are a loser," said Danforth, "is that why you read junk like this? You want to be a knight someday?"

"I... just... like... to read!" the filly's voice was littered with pauses, and Twilight knew exactly why, even if she couldn't see it at the moment. The colt that had taken her book was dangling above the filly's head, lifting it out of reach every time she jumped for it. The voices grew louder as Shining Armor's pace quickened, his curiousity evolving into a sense of worry.

"We can give you your books back, if you just give us a hoof with some of our schoolwork," Devlin offered. "It wasn't a problem last week, so why the cold shoulder now?"

Twilight felt in herself a small surge of pride as she heard the filly reply. "How are you two supposed to learn if you don't do your homework? All I want to do today is relax and study magic."

"Why don't you just use a magic spell to get it back? Or was that one not in this book?" Devlin taunted.

"No!" the filly cried as the other book was no doubt ripped away from her too, "why won't you two ever leave me alone? I don't get it - I never did anything to you! Give them back!"

"You want it? Here - take it!" Danforth's voice cracked on the last half of the sentence.

"Ow!"

Shining Armor turned the corner just in time to watch his little sister get pelted by a hardcover book. The two bullies had their backs turned to him, and his and Twilight's watering eyes met.

"Nice! I thought you liked hitting the books?" Devlin laughed.

"Just not when the books hit back, am I right?" Danforth raised his empty hoof to his friend so as to celebrate with a hoof bump, and he wasn't disappointed. Shining Armor's worry that Twilight was acutely aware of morphed into an electric burst of anger, interspersed with an intangible mix of loyalty and affection. The edges of his vision grew dark, and the only things that were clear before him were the two bullies and his younger sibling.

"What do you think you're doing?" Shining Armor cried, his booming shout bouncing around the library. "Leave her alone!"

The two earth ponies about-faced, each wearing a look of surprise on their faced. Danforth dropped the other book on the ground in shock. Meanwhile, Devlin, though smaller than Shining Armor, puffed out his chest in defiance.

"Why don't you get out of here? This doesn't concern you," he sneered, and Twilight could feel Shining Armor's nostrils flare in rage.

"That's my sister you just attacked, you better believe it concerns me," Shining Armor snarled. The silent pony bit his lip and looked to the ground in shame, but his ostentatious friend didn't relent.

"At-attacked?" the bully stammered, "I just dropped it is all. It was an accident, honest!" Behind the bullies, filly Twilight opened her mouth in silent protest, but she didn't say anything.

"Liar!"

"So what?" Devlin continued, the bullies' lame facade quickly abandoned. "We were just having some fun, you wanna make something of it?"

"I will if I have to," Shining Armor stepped forward with an air of menace to warn them that he was serious. Twilight hadn't really doubted it before, but experiencing the sheer tenacity that Shining Armor was feeling at that moment cemented the notion that Shining Armor had indeed been ready and willing to fight to protect his sister.

"News flash, 'bro'," Devlin said obnoxiously, "but there's two of us, and only one of you. Unless you think your stupid sister can help?"

The bookshelves at the edges of Shining Armor's focused sight had taken on a tint of red that wasn't there before, their intensity matching his escalating anger. Shining Armor looked to Twilight at her mention, and her fearful appearance only contributed more to his heightened emotions.

"Stupid sister? Is that why you two need her to do your schoolwork for you? Because she's the stupid one?" Shining Armor used the opportunity to turn the tables on the two, and the dumbfounded look on their embarrassed faces was oh-so-satisfying. "I bet the principal would love to hear about how two of her students coerced a kindergartner of all ponies to do their homework for them. I wonder what she would do?"

Both of the colts flinched, but Devlin still didn't relent. "You would do that, wouldn't you? Go running to Mrs. Coal because you can't fight us yourself! You're both a bunch of losers!"

Shining Armor took a menacing step forward, hoping that his posture would aptly showcase his physicality. Twilight could feel what he was trying to do, but again, she also could sense that he was very willing to give these two what he thought they had coming. "You've got a point. Maybe I should just take care of you myself. A good hooves-on lesson on what happens when you hurt my sister."

The notion wasn't lost on Danforth, who prodded his friend nervously. "Hey, let's just get out of here."

Delvin' whipped his sideways to look in shock at Danforth, as his voice raised an octave. "You're flaking on me? Come on, we can totally take him!"

"No - I mean, I-I know we could, but..." Danforth glanced at Shining Armor for just a second, his personal assessment likely in direct contrast with what he just said. "Think about it, is he really worth it? Is she really worth it? Not that I care, but I don't want another suspension... being in this library sucks."

"Whatever!" Devlin snapped, and they hastily traipsed away from the sniffling Twilight. His face turned flush in defeated embarrassment as the duo sidled down the aisle past a most wary Shining Armor, but he kept right on walking towards the exit on the other side of the room. When the two were close enough to the door, Devlin had the nerve to deliver one last taunt. "You're lucky my friend here talked me down, loser!"

The tunnel vision that Shining Armor was experiencing had begun to relax, but it narrowed again, focused on the two figures leaving the library. "Yeah, keep walking! You even look at my sister again and I swear to Celestia-"

A sob from filly Twilight interrupted Shining Armor's threat, and his anger had all but vanished. He walked towards his sister, and Twilight could feel waves of sympathy, relief, worry, and an unshakable feeling of love engulfing Shining Armor's emotional state. The annoyance, jealousy, and traces of resentment from before were gone.

"Heya, Twily... are you alright?" Shining Armor approached his sister, and it dawned on Twilight just how tiny she must have always seemed to him as they were growing up. He knelt down beside her shaking form, and swept away the neatly trimmed bangs from her red eyes.

"Yes," she sniffed hastily, her appearance betraying her answer. "Are the books-"

"Nevermind the books, kiddo," Shining Armor said, holding the filly firmly as he examined the welt on her temple. "That's going to bruise, but I think you'll be okay."

Twilight remarked to herself how similar it looked to Scootaloo's injury.

"Thanks to you," her younger self looked up at Shining Armor with her round velvet eyes, and Twilight could detect Shining Armor's sense of pride swelling. "You saved me!" The stallion found himself wrapped in the biggest hug the little filly could muster.

"Don't mention it," came his modest reply. "I'm your B.B.B.F.F. Protecting you is my job, and it's one that I'm glad to do."

Young Twilight's eyes grew wide at the phrase, and she gave a huge gasp. She scrambled away from her brother, looking around for the book that had bounced away after colliding with her. "That's what you should do when you grow up, Shiny! You should be a knight just like Quilleran, from this book I'm reading!"

Shining Armor chuckled as he twisted to his side to reach the other book that had been dropped. This one hadn't been tossed, and it was no worse for wear as far as he could tell. "A knight, huh? I guess I could see that. I always thought the royal guard were pretty cool." Twilight gasped aloud, and Shining Armor once again grew alarmed. "What's wrong, Twily? Is your book alright?"

Through Shining Armor's eyes, Twilight witnessed herself staring flabbergasted at her brother. As soon as she heard the name of the books, Twilight knew exactly what was coming next. After all, how could she forget-

"Your cutie mark! You got your cutie mark!" Twilight pointed at Shining Armor's flank, squealing in excitement. Shining Armor's gaze dropped down to his sides, and he was overcome with disbelief that gave way to the same jubilation that seemed to possess the filly before him.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I did! It's my cutie mark!"

Emblazoned on his flanks was a dark blue shield that matched the color of his hooves, with three dark blue stars above it. One rested on the central tip, while the other two nestled into the rounded depressions on either side of the tip. On the shield itself was a curious symbol - a six pointed pink star. The two wasted no time in trying to figure out what it could mean.

"See! You really are going to be a knight! A knight named Shining Armor, just like the bedtime stories!" Twilight squeaked, bouncing around her brother in a frenzy as she undoubtedly contemplated her brother starring in his own heroic tale. "Defending helpless fillies from evildoers everywhere!"

Shining Armor rubbed the new mark with his hooves, making sure that it wasn't paint as the result of some practical joke. No smudges or anything. "I can't even... wow. You know, Twilight, I wouldn't have got it if it weren't for you," he mused aloud. "Guess it's a good thing you got lost in your books again, huh?"

Twilight's mania faltered for a second, and emitted another gasp as she saw what time it was. "Oh! Sorry! I lost track of time, and - oh no, you had your game thing today didn't you?"

Shining Armor didn't let her finish before he swept her off her hooves to present a loving hug of his own. "Don't apologize - I should be thanking you! I'm sorry that I didn't get here sooner, or else I could have prevented... that," he referenced the lump on his sister's head. "Would some ice cream make it up to you? Cream's Creamery?"

Twilight giggled and did her best to like she was seriously considering rejecting his offer, but the smile on her face was too broad to conceal. "I don't know... it'll have to be at least two scoops! With toppings!"

Twilight practically tingled as a result of experiencing her brother's happiness vicariously. There were so many wonderful emotions he was feeling at that moment that Twilight struggled to name them all. Gratitude, joy, relief, pride, all of them swirling around at once, and the library seemed to shimmer in his perspective.

"Deal! Come on, kiddo, let's get there before the popular flavors are gone!" He set his sister down, and levitated the two books into his sister's already stuffed saddlebags resting against a bookcase. Shining Armor chuckled good-naturedly as he watched Twilight struggle under the weight of her many books, and opted to magically lift both her and her belongings to rest upon his back as they made their way out of the library.

"I can't wait to be able to do magic like that someday, just like you!" Twilight praised Shining Armor from her perch on his shoulder.

"You keep reading and studying like you are, I don't doubt you will," Shining Armor replied. "If you don't mind me asking, about those two jerks... did I hear that they were bothering you for two weeks?"

The library vanished into blackness, and the sounds of Shining Armor's question faded away. Twilight blinked, and she found herself back in the Vestibule, the looks on anticipation of the Seers all fixed upon her.

"That was... wow," she trailed off.

The Seers all beamed at the wordless praise of their demonstration, Audile clapping her hooves together happily as her whiteboard tumbled to the ground.

"That was what your mother witnessed in a dream when she was pregnant with Shining Armor," Axiom told Twilight, "and how he earned his name. Like all dreams, the details quickly faded when she awoke, but it left Mrs. Velvet with an unshakable feeling about her son's loyalty and fierce determination to protect his loved ones. Just... like a knight in shining armor," he added with a wink.

Twilight ruminated on Axiom's words. She had never thought why her brother was named Shining Armor, instead of the more traditional family name like Twilight had, nor just how much of a "coincidence" that he would grow to become a true knight - a captain of the royal guard, no less. Something else also struck her as strange about what he said.

"Does that mean," she pondered slowly, "that Mom saw me, even before Shining Armor was born? Before I was even conceived?"

"Destiny is a funny thing, your role in it especially," Axiom nodded. "She did. Though again, as the details slipped away as she woke, I suspect that her mind was more focused on the future of her upcoming son at the time, and her certainty of his traits."

"That's amazing," Twilight stood up and stretched her legs, referring to both the vision itself, and Twilight Velvet's knowledge of her daughter years before she was even a sparkle in her eye. "The details in the school, the ponies, the sights, sounds, everything!" The Seers once again appeared very pleased that their endeavor had met with the approval of the new princess, especially Atlas and Audile, both of whom looked flush. Twilight felt ever-so-slightly embarrassed that her words could make this group of powerful ponies so happy, but she was glad for it nonetheless. Speaking of which...

"And feeling those emotions," she rambled as she paced in front of her throne. "I mean, I always knew that my brother loved me, but actually getting to experience just how much... that's just..." Try as she might, and Twilight's affinity for description was not unimpressive, she couldn't put it into words. Hearing it from her brother was one thing, but knowing without a shadow of a doubt was something else entirely. But, Twilight's eyes faltered when she remembered that there was more than just love that her brother had for her in that vision.

"I have to say, I didn't realize that I had irritated him so much. Or that he was apparently jealous of me..."

"Don't forget that he was still just a colt," Archive spoke up from his chair. "Little things like someone else forgetting something can be devastating to someone of that age. I can only imagine what that's like..."

"I see what you're saying, and I agree," Appear chuckled.

"If I recall," Axiom said aloud while looking intently at Antenna's sleeping figure, "you were also jealous of your brother's magical ability at the time."

Twilight nodded sheepishly.

"But as you clearly saw, his love for you was enough to overcome his envy of your learning prowess. Jealousy is natural, and something that can be vanquished as one grows wiser, or as they learn to be glad for another's success. Something I've no doubt Shining Armor has accomplished," he reassured Twilight in his remarkably effective soft voice. "Though, I must admit, as gifted as you are, I'm surprised at your surprise. Perhaps it speaks to your modesty, but I'd wager that many ponies are jealous of you for simply being a princess, among countless other things."

Like Scootaloo with her wings, Twilight thought. Then, Twilight remembered the how and why that brought her to visit the Seers in the first place.

"I don't mean to change the subject, but I was wondering if I could sort of..." Twilight struggled with how to correctly identify what she was asking for without seeming too demanding or entitled. "If I could sort of make a request? To see something for somepony?"

The change in subject matter didn't faze Axiom. "Of course you may. That's why we're here."

"Wonderful," Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, "I was helping a student with a school project this weekend - it's actually how I came to even find out about the Cabinet of Seers - and well..." Twilight paused again, her will to explain the situation at odds with how to actually explain it. "She's a pegasus, probably 13 years old or so, and she can't fly yet. She wants to more than anything, and she asked me if I could find if she'd ever be able to."

"A student, you say," Axiom rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Are you two close?"

Princess Celestia asked Twilight the same question. So, Twilight gave the same answer.

"Not really," she said plaintively. "I've only really spoken with her at length this last weekend, helping her with a school assignment."

"Ah well, then certainly. What might this pony's name be?" Axiom asked as he looked to Alumni, who was gazing curiously at Twilight.

"Her name is Scootaloo," the princess replied.

Though he was looking at Alumni, Axiom asked the question to the collective. "Do we know anypony named Scootaloo?" There was a small delay before Alumni turned his head back and forth to the other Seers, as if to see if they knew the answer.

"She's an orange pegasus filly, with a messy purple mane and similarly colored eyes, correct?" Alumni asked Twilight, whose face lit up at the description.

"Yes! That's her!"

"Indeed we do," the unicorn replied. "Shall we get started?"

The rest of the Seers nodded enthusiastically, except for Archive, who was staring at his hooves on the seat of his chair, as if deep in thought. Twilight returned to the center throne, and settled comfortably in its cushions.

"What we showed you before was something in the past, past events being a specialty for Archive and his impeccable memory," Axiom pointed to Archive, who at the mention of his name, snapped out of trance and waved jovially at Twilight. "But, since we're going to be looking to the future, things are going to be a bit different."

"Different?" Twilight tilted her head, "how so?"

"Because we're looking for something that hasn't happened yet, we're going to be navigating Scootaloo's timeline by looking for emotional peaks."

"Peaks?"

"Moments of intense emotion. If she truly is looking forward to flying more than anything, then when she is able to, it will register as a significantly joyful moment that will stand out. That's also how we find when ponies earn their cutie marks," Axiom added.

"I understand, I think," Twilight said as a nagging thought crossed her mind. "But what if she can't?"

"I suspect that that moment of realization will be just as significant," Axiom answered somberly, "Everypony ready?"

From her bedsheets, Antenna began to glow and hum again, the sheer energy causing Twilight to tingle once more, her fur standing on end. Before long, Twilight found herself in a familiar black void. Axiom's voice rang out from the blackness.

"We're going to start from the present, or near enough to it, at any rate, and begin moving forwards. It might be a little disorienting."

Twilight conjured up the word "Okay" in her head, but found herself (just as Axiom had said) disoriented as she suddenly found herself in a brightly lit stadium, surrounded by the roar of the crowd. She, or more appropriately, Scootaloo was looking at a caramel colored pony standing before a podium. This pony had a short blonde mane, and wore a crisp mulberry jacket that just screamed "professionalism." Twilight recognized this mare as the Equestria Games inspector, Miss Harshwhinny. She cleared her throat, and Twilight could feel a sense of great anticipation building inside of Scootaloo.

"In the Equestria Games, the Ponyville flag will be carried by... Cutie Mark Crusaders!"

As soon as Miss Harshwhinny said the words, the crowd exploded again, and Scootaloo whooped excitedly with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. The trio of fillies joined in a hug together, and if Scootaloo's current state was anything to go by, the Cutie Mark Crusaders all felt elation. Elation, and a deep sense of gratitude towards one another. Twilight knew exactly why that was.

Perhaps it was because she was thinking about the flag carrying trials, and her knowledge of how the Crusaders' friendship was tested, but the stadium and all of its splendid clamor vanished.

"As I said, near enough to the present," Axiom said.

*******

The darkness was replaced with the dimly lit inside of a house, and the silence with the panicked breaths of Scootaloo mixed with rain pattering against the dark windows. All of the happiness had left, and all that Scootaloo seemed to be experiencing at the moment was pure terror and utter anxiety. Her little hooves clopped around the home, her gaze shifting from the wooden floor to an envelope on a wooden table.

Twilight recognized the table (and the stairs in Scootaloo's peripheral vision) from peeking through the semi-open door during her visit yesterday. They were at Scootaloo's home, but something was horribly, terribly amiss.

"There's got to be some mistake... there's just no way," Scootaloo whispered as she approached the table again. The shadows in the room broadened and twisted as Twilight felt another burst of fear envelop Scootaloo's state of mind. The room became blurry behind a veil of tears, and Scootaloo's little legs scurried up the stairs. The hallway was almost pitch black, and all of the doors closed save for one at the end, one that she was fast approaching. The filly darted inside what looked to be her room, judging from the various décor lining the walls, and leapt upon the bed. Scootaloo scurried under the covers, pressing her head to the pillow as she began to sob erratically.

"It just can't be..."

Everything had gone dark, but not because of the vision shifting to another event. Scootaloo was gasping for breath, and her eyes were held tightly shut.

Then, the sounds stopped, and Twilight found herself free of the strangling emotions that Scootaloo was experiencing. What in the world had happened? What was in that envelope that seemingly caused Scootaloo such unbelievable stress?

*******

She didn't have time to ponder for long, for soon Twilight found herself teleported once more. The fear and sadness disappeared, replaced by a manic joy, accompanied by disturbing and overpowering bouts of sheer rage. The visions of Scootaloo's bedroom had turned into the bloodied countenance of Diamond Tiara.

“You think you’re so much better than everypony else, you – you miserable entitled worthless – How does that feel? HOW DOES THAT FEEL?”

Twilight watched in horror as every blow against Diamond Tiara's crying face resulted in flecks of blood loosing into the air, and Twilight felt doubly horrified as every strike netted a feeling of deep satisfaction within Scootaloo. The description from Cheerilee's letter, while shocking when Twilight read it, was tame compared to the brutality that this young filly was exhibiting.

It came to a halt however, when Scootaloo received a punch to the back of her head. Though Scootaloo didn't know it at the time, Twilight knew full well that it was Diamond Tiara's friend Silver Spoon doing her best to try and stop Scootaloo from her onslaught. The impact cause Scootaloo's head to lurch forward, colliding with Diamond Tiara's forehead. Everything went black again, as though Scootaloo had lost consciousness, but Twilight could tell from the emptiness that she was back in the "pre-vision" space.

*******

She anticipated that in just a few seconds, Twilight would be bearing to witness to another event in Scootaloo's life. The Seers delivered, and she found herself face to face with herself for the second time that day. Only this time, Twilight in the vision wasn't a filly - rather, it was Princess Twilight from last Friday, when the Crusaders had delivered the letter to her regarding the fight that Twilight had just witnessed. Twilight felt the familiar feeling of jealousy that she had experienced with Shining Armor, only it was amplified one hundred fold. Scootaloo was staring down Princess Twilight in the library, and could feel her nostrils flared. Princess Twilight looked genuinely taken aback, and Sweetie Belle stepped forward from near the door wearing a look of similar surprise.

Sweetie Belle's mouth moved, but no sounds could be heard from it. Audile was still synchronizing, no doubt. Suddenly -

“No!” Scootaloo spat. “She doesn’t get to do that!” She told Sweetie Belle as if it was just so, as if it were the most obvious of unspoken rules. Her eyes flashed angrily again at Twilight, the princess looking like Fluttershy under a spotlight. “Just-Just because you have wings! You don’t – you can’t…” Scootaloo stammered angrily, her tongue apparently vexed as it tried to formulate every ultimatum it could at once.

“YOU’LL NEVER BE LIKE HER!” Scootaloo expelled at long last.

“W-Wait,” Twilight stammered, quickly folding her wings to her sides. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you, I just wanted to help-”

“Of course you did!” Scootaloo snarled, not caring that she was addressing royalty with an incredible amount of disrespect. “Princess Twilight, she’s so special! She’s so nice!” Scootaloo’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “She’s the best friend anypony could ask for, the best unicorn in the history of Equestria, and now she can – she can fly like a Wonderbolt!” Scootaloo faltered on her last line, tearing up once more, and started to back up into the open doorway leading to the kitchen. “Why don’t you – why- why don’t you let others have a chance?” With that, Scootaloo scrambled on her hooves, scrabbling rapidly against the floor, and she disappeared into the kitchen away from the main room of the library. She peered frantically around the kitchen, looking for a place to go, to escape.

She looked up at the window above the countertop, then to her own wings, and Twilight could feel Scootaloo's jealousy succumb to desperate sadness marred by residual envy. Twilight guessed that, were Scootaloo able to fly to the top of counter to the window, she would have done so and left through it. Yet...

"My stupid, useless wings..." the filly sniffed, and with nowhere else to go, she slowly ambled to the underside of the kitchen table. Scootaloo pushed past the chair legs, and curled into a ball. Using her tail as a cushion, Scootaloo stared at the wall and cried some more, all the while feelings of worthlessness and anger coursed through her as she could vaguely hear the voices of Twilight and her friends over her intermittent sobbing.

*******

The kitchen warped away, but the black void was only visible for a second before being replaced by the view of Princess Twilight Sparkle once more. This time, Scootaloo was curled up on the blue comforter that Twilight recognized as the one that covered her bed above the library. Laying next to her was Princess Twilight herself, who was looking down at the filly nestled against her side with a smile on her face. Above Scootaloo, Twilight's wing was outstretched, slowly lowering down upon the young pegasus like a blanket.

"You're not," Princess Twilight said. Scootaloo's doubts flared for a second as her lip quivered.

"Y-you mean it?"

"Of course I do," Princess Twilight answered.

Twilight could sense Scootaloo's emotions running haywire. That doubt expanded even more, and along with it, the feelings of worthlessness grew again. Twilight didn't know what Scootaloo was thinking, with her brain, but something clicked. Something wonderful. Gone were the feelings of worthlessness. In fact, Twilight could detect almost nothing but positive emotions now. Gratitude and acceptance were in abundance, the doubt shredded away.

With that, Scootaloo dove into Twilight’s side, just under where her outstretched wing would have normally been folded along the alicorn’s ribs. As Twilight’s wing lowered and wrapped itself around the filly, Scootaloo's hooves were doing their best to wrap around the much larger pony. She buried her muzzle into the princess' side, eagerly accepting what she had longed for what was evidently a very long time.

Love. Twilight could feel, almost verbatim, the exact same feeling that Shining Armor felt when he laid eyes upon his sister. That wondrous feeling, that feeling that somepony else cared for you, and accepted you despite your faults. That you could rely on them to help you through thick and thin. That made you feel like you had a purpose, that indescribable feeling that -

Everything stopped, and Twilight was no longer vicariously cocooned against herself in her bedroom, nor was she in that void. Rather, she was laying on the floor in Eres before her throne. She looked up to see the Seers looking at her uneasily, and Twilight grew confused. What had happened?

"I distinctly remember asking if you two were close, Princess Twilight," Axiom said quietly, the tone of his voice greatly unnerving to the alicorn.

"We aren't - weren't! I mean, I don't know. I didn't think... I mean, all of that was -" Twilight babbled, but Axiom raised his hoof to stop her.

"I know what you mean," he said gently, "but evidently Scootaloo doesn't feel the same way."

Author's Notes:

Sorry it took so long, this chapter took a lot of work to put together. There's a whole bunch of indulgent backstory and intricacies concerning the Seers that got cut out for the sake of pacing (at the sage advice of eminent pre-reader RaylanKrios - special thanks for his pre-reading, and helping keep me reigned in and focused), and even still, this is a pretty heavy world-building chapter.

Watchful readers will notice that much earlier in the story (written May 2014) Twilight mentioned to Scootaloo how she had her own run-in with bullies, and you get a neat little payoff here, courtesy of the fittingly named Shining Armor.

I hope you enjoy it. Any feedback would be appreciated.

Readers on Xbox 360 or Xbox One:

Here are two codes for Gears of War 1, and Gears of War Judgment. Please let me know when they've been used!

Gears of War 1: T9RGC-QMT2M-9YT6J-6H2DP-2YKQZ

Gears of War Judgment: DMDXH-TXHJG-T4F4V-C42JY-YT9TZ

Illusion & Dream

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Twilight sat speechless, as the words that Axiom told her gradually began to sink in. Not that it was just his observations that indicated Scootaloo's feelings - Twilight had witnessed, and felt, them herself. How could it have been that Scootaloo, after seemingly only an afternoon of "quality" time with Twilight, had gone from practically loathing her with envy to feeling the same familial happiness that Twilight and her brother shared? Twilight didn't know what to make of it - she certainly tried to be as tender and kind as she could to a filly in need, but she hadn't expected to make such an impression. She wondered what it said about her social skills - a far cry from her days as a shut in student - and wondered what Scootaloo's emotional state must be like for her to latch so strongly to a pony that offered a semblance of care to her.

More pressing to the situation she was currently in with the Seers, she wasn't sure why that seemed an issue.

"I'm uh..." Twilight lifted herself off the crystal floor. "I'm just as surprised as you, honestly. I had no idea she felt that way about me. I - I was just trying to help her."

"From the looks of it, she seemed to need it," Axiom said blithely, further adding to Twilight's myriad of mixed feelings. "It's not often we see that strong of bond forged in such a short amount of time. Not outside of family, least of all" he added for emphasis.

Axiom's declaration did not ease Twilight's spinning mind one iota. She pawed at the floor with her shaky hoof, wracking her brain to try and figure out what exactly that meant for her, and for Scootaloo. Smart though she was, Twilight had no idea. What was Twilight supposed to say to Scootaloo now that she knew just how much of an impression she'd made? Pretending she didn't know that Scootaloo viewed her as near to family as one apparently could didn't seem fair to Scootaloo, not at all.

On the topic of fairness, however, Twilight was standing here before the Cabinet of Seers, and she had promised Scootaloo that she would try to find out if the filly would fly. She saw no reason why, despite the unexpected revelation about Scootaloo's impromptu attachment, that Twilight should break her word.

"I don't suppose," she began meekly, "that we could start again? I sort of made a promise."

The Seers had spent most of the time during Twilight's visit watching her curiously, fascinated by a new princess to interact with. Yet now, not one of them were looking at her, except for Audile. While the rest of the Seers were looking down uncomfortably at their hooves resting in their chairs, Audile looked intensely at Twilight, biting her lip. After several more seconds of increasingly awkward silence, the sound of a marker squeaking across Audile's whiteboard echoed around the room. The unicorn faltered for just a second, and then flipped the whiteboard over for Twilight to read.

Ax: From the looks of it, she seemed to need it. It's not often we see that strong of bond forged in such a short amount of time. Not outside of family, least of all.
PTS: I don't suppose that we could start again? I sort of made a promise.
Me: We can't.

"We can't," Twilight whispered softly, growing even more confused. "What do you mean you can't?"

Audile looked helplessly down the row of chairs to the other Seers to help explain in a manner more efficient than scribbling on a board. After another moment of awkward silence, Atlas came to her friend's aid, fiddling with her compass all the while.

"We're not allowed to. It's one of the rules," she said nervously. "Didn't Princess Celestia say anything?"

Twilight remembered that Princess Celestia had asked Twilight about her relationship with Scootaloo. Princess Celestia had even advised Twilight against looking into her future, as though she could innately sense the truth about the young pegasus pony. Yet, Celestia never mentioned any rules.

"We have two rules," Axiom explained wearily, "the first is that, for reasons I'm sure you can discern, we cannot see into the future of an alicorn, or once they become an alicorn, in some cases," he added.

Twilight nodded her head. Scenarios of power hungry ponies using knowledge of the future for personal gain was a topic that filled several works in her "fiction" shelf, and it was likely best they stayed there. "I guess that makes sense. What's the second?"

"The second is a little bit more complicated, and much more situational," Axiom began slowly, as if he'd not uttered these words for a very long time and was struggling to recite them. "If another pony forms a strong emotional bond with an alicorn, positive or negative, we can't show their future from that point onward."

Twilight pieced it together aloud, the implication of the rule becoming clearer with each word. "So then... because I helped Scootaloo to feel better, and because she was grateful for it, she-"

"-That was more than simple gratitude, your majesty," Axiom interrupted quietly, the choice of words making up for his soft tone. "Millions are grateful to Princess Celestia, but she could consult us about them without issue. Though I suppose your modesty is not unexpected, I think you underestimate just how happy and loved you made her feel. Judging from what we just witnessed, she seems to be a very emotional filly, suffering from a crushing amount of stress from all sorts of angles."

Twilight both admired and detested how truthfully Axiom spoke, and how his demeanor made words that would be tough to hear otherwise more bearable. "I didn't know..." Twilight whispered sadly.

"I know - we know," Axiom corrected, earning a series of solemnly supportive nods from the other Seers. "For better or worse, your generous gift of comfort to a hurting filly has..."

"Cut her off?" Twilight asked knowingly, looking at Archive as she spoke. "Isn't that what you said? Before showing me Shining Armor getting his cutie mark? You said we were both 'cut off' pretty early."

"Did I say that?" Archive replied with genuine confusion, "I honestly don't remember." Twilight knew that it wasn't his fault, but she had a hard time hiding her frustration as she sighed impatiently.

"Archive is right," Alumni stepped in politely. "Once Shining Armor began to show keen interest in joining the royal guard after earning his cutie mark, he started to spend more time outside of school studying it. Joining after school programs, physical training, things of that nature. With you still being a filly, your parents hired a foal sitter."

"Cadance..." Twilight murmured in acknowledgment.

"You always were the one she loved to sit for the most," Alumni said with a smile, earning a reluctant one from Twilight in return. "And once they met, Shining Armor and Princess Cadence began to develop strong feelings for one another as well."

"I see," Twilight said simply, shoulders slumped in defeat. She had been so close. Now, how was she going to tell Scootaloo that the Seers couldn't help? What would Scootaloo say when she knew the reason why they couldn't? Twilight could already guess that Scootaloo would be embarrassed beyond belief, regretting her willingness to accept help from a kind soul that offered it, and worse yet, become angry at herself for letting it happen.

But then, what if Twilight lied to her about it? Said the Seers couldn't help for some "other" reason? Immediately, Twilight pushed the idea from her head. Scootaloo had made it very clear that she wanted nothing but the truth from the princess, good or bad, and placating her was exactly what Scootaloo had rallied so hard against. More simple was the fact that, above all else, Twilight made a promise, and Twilight intended to keep it.

"I want to thank you all, for everything," Twilight's voice broke the silence as she stood up and stretched her legs. "But I suppose..." She trailed off, looking at the door behind her throne.

"I am very sorry that we could not help you, your majesty," Axiom hopped from his chair, offering his hoof to the princess. "I hope that this doesn't reflect too negatively on your visit today."

Twilight took his hoof and gave it a firm shake. "Not at all," she said as pleasantly as her mood would allow, which wasn't much. "Well, okay, I'm a little disappointed, but-"

"Wait!"

Axiom and Twilight's hooves dropped to the floor mid-shake at the interruption from Archive. The stallion stood up in his chair, clearly excited, but judging from his expression, equally nervous.

"I think I can help," he said.

"Archive," Axiom addressed the Seer warningly, the tone of his voice making even Twilight uneasy. "You know we can't."

"No, no, no! I would never dream of it," Archive waved his hooves frantically. "It's just, when Princess Twilight first mentioned Scootaloo, and her situation, I remembered something. Something in Scootaloo's past that I think might hold the answer to her - your - question."

Twilight's heart skipped a beat. "Really?"

"Yes!"

"And it's in her past?" Axiom checked again, the caution in his voice diminished, yet still present.

"It is," Archive insisted, "by quite a margin."

Axiom sighed in relief, and trotted to his chair alongside Antenna's bed, a twinkle in his eye that was a far cry from the somber disappointment just moments ago. "Princess Twilight, your throne?"

"Right," she wasted no time in settling in the crimson cushions, eager to see exactly what in Scootaloo's past would hold the answer to that burning question. As Antenna began to glow and hum once more, Twilight looked over to Archive and offered a wide grin. "Thank you!" she mouthed to him. Archive glanced back to her with a surprising sadness in his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet," his words cut through the air seconds before the familiar blackness engulfed the princess.

Twilight's world vanished before her as Antenna's glow and hum came to a crescendo. In the blackness, Twilight experienced a pleasant combination of contentment and curiosity. It gave her hope for what was hopefully coming next.

"Curious choice," Atlas' voice sounded throughout the void. "Audile, Appear, you're set."

Twilight didn't quite know what exactly the Seers had to do in order to bring these visions to fruition, but Audile did her part first. The silence gave way to a low growl, interspersed with a rhythmic thumping sound. Twilight recognized the sound from that very morning when she was journeying to Canterlot. Though Twilight couldn't see it yet, she knew that she was on a train.

Then, the darkness surrounding her melted away. Yet, Twilight didn't see what appeared to be a train car. Twilight was enveloped in dark blue, and the only thing that she could make out was a faint light above her, filtering through a blue sheet, like the sun through a curtain. Where was she? Twilight found herself growing frustrated at her inability to move or look around freely during these visions. But before she could dwell on what she couldn't do, Twilight's own curiosity was piqued by the sound of two voices speaking.

"I can't believe the Wonderbolts are still going to accept you after so many delays," said the voice of a stallion from the other side of the veil above Twilight. There was a shuffling sound as the voice spoke, and a shadow passed across the blue linen.

"It's not so much that they'll accept me," replied a female voice. "It's more like they are begging me to join! My instructor at the WBA told me that she'd never seen such raw ability, and she didn't give out praise easy."

"Raw ability," the stallion chuckled softly. "Doesn't hurt you that your dad is one of their lead physicians, or that you had some help... I'm amazed you're still a mare after all those steroids."

The comment apparantly struck a nerve to the mare. "Shut up!" she growled in a low voice. "I was already an awesome flier, the... supplements just helped a bit is all."

"If you say so. And what about her?"

Twilight, and the pony she was "inhabiting" felt a burst of excitement as the blue sheet filtering the light was lifted. The contrasting brightness was blinding, and all Twilight could see above her before the pony closed its eyes reflexively were two massive figures looming over her. As quickly as the sheet had been lifted, it lowered once more, leaving Twilight in her blue tinted cocoon again. She felt a twinge of sadness, and, as if to protest, her mouth opened, and an incoherent babble emerged.

It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in Twilight's head. As her tiny forelegs stretched above her, searching for the two figures that had appeared and then vanished in the darkness, Twilight knew exactly what was happening here. She was Scootaloo again, only this time, she was just a foal. She and the two ponies above her were on a train, with Scootaloo nestled snugly in a covered basket. And these two ponies... if Twilight had to guess, they must have been Scootaloo's parents.

"When you had that dream," the father said, "didn't you say she was miserable because she couldn't fly? You know what they say drugs and stuff can do to foals in the womb."

"That? That was a just a stupid dream," the mother insisted staunchly. "That whole Princess' Blessing thing is a bunch of mumbo jumbo. I don't know why I even asked about it."

"That's not what you said when you woke up crying in the middle of the night on my couch."

"Like you've never had a nightmare so real you couldn't tell you were dreaming," she shuddered. "No - as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I stopped dosing. She'll be fine."

The three ponies sat in silence for a few minutes, with nothing but the hypnotic sounds of the train rolling along the tracks, and, if Twilight wasn't mistaken, the static pattering of rain against the train car windows. Scootaloo's eyes began to droop, and the warmth of the basket she was tucked in was growing ever more comfortable. She issued a startled squeak as the brakes of the train began to shriek. Scootaloo felt a minute jerk when the momentum of the car stopped.

"I've got her," the father said, and the basket was lifted up. Twilight could feel herself swinging through the air, and could tell the from the dancing lights and shadows through the blanket that the family had left the train. "So, where do we go from here?"

The light and sounds of a train station had all but vanished, replaced with the darkness of the night sky. Raindrops gently collided with the cover of the basket, another calming metronome that was having a tranquilizing effect on Scootaloo. Suddenly, distant though it was, the low rumble of thunder sounded, and Twilight could feel a creeping fear taking over Scootaloo's state of mind.

"I'm... I'm not sure," said the voice of Scootaloo's mother. "I've never been to Ponyville before."

The clouds of thunder must have rolled closer, because the rumbling had grown louder.

"Really?"

"It's not like I was going to ask Mrs. Days the street address of an orphanage!"

"Who?"

"She was my maternity nurse."

"So, then how do you know that there's even one here?"

"Mrs. Days said she volunteers there all of the time," the mother explained. "I could hardly listen to her fawn about how much she loves the fillies and colts, and then ask her where to go to abandon mine. I might not be in college like you, but I'm not stupid."

"I never said-"

"Whatever," the mother's voice dripped with crossness. "Come on, this little hamlet can't be that big."

A thunderclap sounded above, and Scootaloo's fear exploded in tandem. Tears began to form in her eyes, and the foal started whining softly. Against the falling rain, Scootaloo's parents didn't seem to notice. Twilight felt an increasing sense of desperation as Scootaloo's volume increased, the longing for something familiar and caring in this dark, strange, frightening place growing ever more apparent.

"Oh... um, she's-" the stallion said coming to a halt. "I think she's scared."

"Oh goodness, poor thing," Scootaloo's mother said. "Here-"

The blanket was lifted again, and silhouetted against the partially cloud covered moon were the indistinct figures of Scootaloo's parents. Twilight couldn't discern any features on the two ponies, Scootaloo must have known who they were. Her little limbs reached up, flailing about while the foal babbled urgently. Cold water drizzled on to her fur, and she panicked even more. Wings flared on one of the ponies, and a set of hooves reached in and scooped Scootaloo and the blanket swaddling her up.

"Shh... it's okay," the mother whispered softly, pulling Scootaloo towards her chest. "Mommy's got you. It's okay... it's alright..."

Scootaloo's eyes were shut tight, and her muzzle was placed firmly against the mare's warm chest. Twilight could hear another metronome in the form of Scootaloo's mother's heartbeat. Combined with the quiet flapping of the wings and the coaxing whispers, the effect on Scootaloo's mood was remarkable. Fearful babbles turned into contented coos. Another thunderclap sounded, and Scootaloo paid it absolutely no mind.

"Should we keep going?" the father's voice asked tepidly.

"Yeah... let's go."

The trio continued to walk through a version of Ponyville that was familiar to Twilight, yet distorted by Scootaloo's perspective. Not only did the rain and exaggerated shadows obscured many of the landmarks, but everything seemed so much larger from the filly's point of view. Thunder boomed at regular intervals, and on the occassion, lightning illuminated the village of Ponyville. However, Twilight rarely got to see the results of it; Scootaloo instinctively closed her eyes and burrowed her tiny muzzle into her mother's chest whenever the sky flashed unexpectedly.

After several more minutes of walking accompanied by exasperated sighs, the parents came to a halt underneath one of the storefront awnings along the marketplace. Scootaloo peered out curiously, trying to discern what was on the other side of the blackened display case inside the store, but it was to little avail.

"This place is a lot bigger than I thought it was," the father sighed.

"You're telling me," said the mother's voice close to Scootaloo's ear. "Big enough to hide an orphanage. It's not as run down as I thought it would be either."

"We can't keep walking around in the rain though, not with a foal at least."

"I know, I know!" the mother groaned, her distressed tone of voice inspiring similar emotions in her foal. "But I think I have an idea. Here, take her," the mother pulled a reluctant Scootaloo away from her barrel.

"What? Are you sure?"

"She's yours too," the mother reminded him, and Twilight could practically hear her eyes roll while she said it. "Just sit down on your haunches, and hold her with your forelegs." There was a clumsy exchange, and Scootaloo wriggled about from within her prison of blankets to try to make sense of what was happening to her. A cry began to gurgle out of Scootaloo's throat, and her mother was quick to assuage it. "Shhhhh! It's okay! Hold her close to your chest, keep her warm. I think she likes that."

The mother was right, and the effect of being pressed firmly against her father's warm, steadily breathing chest was instantly soothing for the infant. "It's okay, I've got you. You're fine," the father whispered into Scootaloo's ear to the filly's delight. "What were you thinking?" he directed the question to the mare.

"I'm a pegasus," she said simply. "I'll fly up and see if I can't get a good look for it."

The father's chin rubbed against the top of Scootaloo's head as he nodded. There was a flapping of wings, and a whooshing sound as the mother presumably took off, leaving the father and daughter alone under the scarcely illuminated storefront.

"Heya, kiddo..." the father stroked her daughter's mane. "You're a cute little thing, you know that?"

Scootaloo likely had no idea what her father was saying, but she appreciated it nonetheless. She chirruped happily in response, and her father giggled back in turn.

"Yeah, you are. You'll get picked up in no time at all, I know it." The stroking grew almost imperceptibly firmer. "When you grow up, I - I do hope you won't think badly of us." he whispered shakily, his voice sounding as though it were coming close to breaking.

Scootaloo, though she couldn't speak or understand what in the world the stallion was saying, could tell that something was amiss. As if to mimic the comforting motions of her parents, she lightly tickled the ribs she was clinging to with her frail hooves.

"Oh goodness," his voice cracked at last, as another clap of thunder erupted above. Scootaloo stopped her massage and squeezed her father tightly, as the sound of rushing wings flooded her ears. "You're -" the stallion cleared his throat. "You're back. Anything?"

"No, I couldn't see a darn thing," the mother answered.

"Nothing?"

"Why don't you try and look around with rain pelting you in the face, at night, during a storm, tell me what you see?"

"Point taken... do we keep looking?"

There was a long pause. Then -

"I have an idea," the mother spoke quietly.

"I'm all ears."

"This place... this place seems nice, right? I mean, it's no Canterlot, but it's certainly not a dump like we thought it would be."

"I suppose."

"So..." the mare started slowly, "what if instead of wandering about in a rain storm, and risking getting sick or whatever to try and find an orphanage..."

"Okay?"

"What if we found a house - a nice place, of course - and just sort of..."

Scootaloo's father's grip tightened on his daughter. "You can't be serious?"

"I suppose you have a better suggestion? This is hardly a time to take the moral high ground, considering we came all the way out to some little village that we've never set hoof in before for the sole purpose of giving her up."

"That... We can't just leave her on someponies doorstep! What if - what if they don't want her? What if they can't take her in?"

"What if they are like us, you mean," the mother said blankly. "Only difference is, they'll know where the orphanage is. Or at least, they'll be able to ask about it without being ashamed of making a stupid mistake one night."

"I..."

The three sat still for several minutes, listening to the sounds of rain pummel the awning above and the thunder periodically rumbling. Then, the staccato sounds of other ponies laughing in the distance disrupted their trance.

"...You said a nice place?" the father asked, scratching Scootaloo's velvety ears.

"Yeah," the mare answered glumly. "I saw pretty big homes down the road."

There was yet another pregnant pause.

"Alright," the father relented. "Can you take her? I sort of need my front legs to walk."

"Sure. I think the storm's might be slowing down too, so she should be alright in her basket. It's probably better we do that here, than instead of when we get there."

"Better?"

"Easier," the mother said. "Look how tightly you're holding her."

With Scootaloo once again nestled in her basket, and on the verge of sleep, they began to walk down the street. After a couple of minutes, they stopped again, and the shift in momentum aroused Scootaloo from her slumber.

"You weren't kidding," the father whistled, "this place is straight out of Canterlot. I wonder who lives here?"

"It's probably best we don't know. And look, this place has a shelter over the doorstep, it's perfect."

"Guess you were wrong about the storm? It's picking up again."

"I guess. It's why I'm not a weather pony."

The mother was hovering in the air, with Scootaloo in tow. The father's hoofsteps sounded from behind Scootaloo in the basket, punctuated moreso now by the solid rock he was walking on, as opposed to the mud and grass of Ponyville at large. They stopped again, and Scootaloo felt the dampened vibration through her blankets of the basket hitting the ground.

"I guess this is really it, huh?"

"Looks like it," the mother replied. "Are we sure about this?"

"Do we have much of a choice?"

"Not really," the father sighed, "though I wish we did,"

"Maybe - maybe we can come back someday?" the mother suggested hopefully. "Once you finish your degree and get a nice job selling homes or whatever it was you said, and I finish my Wonderbolts Initiate stuff and make the big time, you know? Once things settle down."

"That would be perfect," the father's sillhouette nodded through the blanket. "Don't think me callous for saying this, but now just isn't..."

"The best time, right?"

"Right."

Scootaloo's quiet humming was drowned out by another growl of thunder.

"I was thinking," the mother started shakily. "Do you think we should give her a name? You know, so we can find her again?"

"Oh, right, that makes sense..." the father trailed off. "What um, what were you thinking?"

"I was hoping you might have an idea, actually."

"Well, she's orange," the father mused, "so maybe 'Tangerine' or 'Orange?' perhaps?"

"Maybe I should give it a try instead," she muttered quickly.

"Oh, and I suppose you have a better suggestion?"

"I did have one, actually."

"What? Was it from that "mumbo-jumbo" dream?"

"Yeah, well - why not? I was thinking maybe... 'Hummingbird.'" Her suggestion was partially muffled by another, louder, crash of thunder.

"You said Hummingbird?" he asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. "That seems..."

"Her wings buzzed a lot when she was trying to take off," the mother explained defensively. "And it's better than naming a pegasus after a fruit, isn't it? That's an earth pony thing, no offense."

"No, no, it's a better name than what I came up with," the father admitted. "It's just... if what you saw was true, and she really couldn't fly-"

"-she will!"

"Shhhh!" he hissed when Scootaloo began to stir at her mother's raised voice. "But if she can't, then naming her after a bird, that's kind of... Do you know what I mean?"

The mare sighed a long deep sigh. "You're right."

"Was there anything else? In the dream, I mean."

The mother took a moment or so, presumably to collect her thoughts, before replying. "There was, actually. She had a scooter."

"A scooter?"

"Yeah. It was a big blue wooden scooter, with red wheels and red handlebars. With silver axles," she added.

"You remember that really well, all things considered. You were fuzzy on the rest of it."

"I'd know it anywhere," the mother remarked with a hint of melancholy. "It seemed really important to her, she loved that thing."

"So how about Scooter?" Scootaloo's father asked over another crash of thunder. Scootaloo grew alert, even fearful at first, but when she heard the familiar voices after the "roar," she relaxed once again.

"Your college education at work," the mother chuckled. "Plus, that sounds like a boys name."

"Plankenwheel?"

"And that sounds like a horror movie villain!"

"Rollerboard?"

"Stop - just stop! She wasn't a scooter, she used it a lot-"

"Scootalot?"

"Would you just-" she ceased her nitpicking of his suggestion. "Actually, that one isn't bad. No, that's not bad at all."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it fits nicely. Scootalot... Do you have anything to write it down with in your satchel?"

There was a wet splatting noise as the satchel hit the ground. After a few seconds of shuffling the father said, "I've got a pen that should work, but my notebook is drenched. I'd probably just rip it apart trying to write on it. But... what about my train pass? It stayed dry in this binder."

"Is your name on it?"

"Doesn't look like it. No, there's nothing. Perfect! Now... Shcootaloth," his voice was muffled by the pen in his mouth. "Can you shpell that for me?"

"Aren't you the one in school?"

The pen clattered on the stone doorstep as the father spit it out. "Pbt! For numbers and accounting, not reading and writing," he said staunchly.

"Fine... you ready?"

More clicking. "Mhhm."

"S-C-O-O-T-A-L-O-" The mother droned slowly, but wasn't able to finish spelling the word before another thunderclap sounded, drowning her out.

"...What wath that lath part?"

"O-T!"

There was a scratching of pen on cardboard, and then the pen hit the ground, rattling to a stop. "Oh dear," the father whispered. Scootaloo barely heard it, but the mother couldn't quite make it out.

"What? What did you do?"

"You told me to write the 'o' twice!" the stallion defended himself.

"You wrote Scootaloo," the mother said bluntly.

"I'm sorry, okay? Look, I misheard you. Do you have your ticket?"

"Will you relax?" the mother shushed him. "It's fine. 'Scootaloo.' I like that, better than Scootalot. It's still got the scooter part of it, but It rhymes and flows really well."

"Scootaloo," the father parroted. "Scootaloooo."

"Don't hurt yourself," she joked. "Bring it here, and we'll put in with her." There was a shuffling of hoofsteps, and the blanket was lifted again, the porch light above blinding the startled filly inside. Drops of water dripped from her parents' wet manes, a precarious drop landing on the foal's muzzle, eliciting a faint sneeze. When Scootaloo's eyes opened again, her vision was filled with a brand new toy for her to play with - a cardboard ticket with her name scrawled upon it, the last 'o' noticeably offset from the rest. No sooner than when the ticket was tucked in the basket with her did she fumble with her tiny hooves to bring the ticket to her mouth to see what it tasted like. The corner she suckled on tasted, predictably, like cardboard.

"Our Scootaloo," the stallion muttered, tousling the filly's barely present mane. Even with her mouth full, Scootaloo had room to giggle. Her father's hoof retreated slowly. "I guess it's about that time, though... We probably don't want to have to explain why we're on someponies porch with a filly in a basket."

"Right," Scootaloo's mother agreed. "You go ahead, I'll knock on the door and catch up with you."

"Not getting second thoughts?"

"No, I'll be right there."

The clop of hooves against stone faded in the distance, blending with the sound of rain. Scootaloo's mother reached in to the basket, and softly massaged the foal's cheek with her hoof.

"Our Scootaloo," the mare whispered tearfully. As if she recognized her name already, Scootaloo's hooves abandoned her ticket and grasped, as effectively as they could, her mother's hoof, holding it in place. The silhouetted figure leaned in close, and planted a tiny kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"I'm sorry," the mare spoke almost inaudibly. "I hope that dream was just a dream, Scootaloo. You deserve so much better."

A far cry from the slow and soft mannerisms from before, the mother jerkily backed out and away from the basket. Scootaloo's forelegs were held aloft, the filly babbling incoherent pleas for her mother all the while, but the blue sheet once again shrouded Scootaloo in the dim confines of her basket instead. There were three loud knocks upon the wooden door, quickly followed by a scrabbling of hooves, choked sobbing, and then a rustling of wings.

The door creaked open, and the light from inside the home washed over the basket, filtering through the pseudo-curtain, meeting Scootaloo's widened violet eyes, and the filly felt a rush of wonder. The light blue inside of the basket began to warp and bend, and then, there was nothing.

Twilight found herself collapsed again on the floor before the Seers, her eyes red and puffy from tears she didn't even know she had spilled as she watched the vision unfold. With shaking limbs, she rose from the floor, and used her right foreleg to wipe her eyes, though they had already dried. Scootaloo's empathic sense of joy had all but vanished.

Crystal Ball

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"I had no idea..."

Once again Twilight uttered these words in reference to Scootaloo, though not to anypony in particular. Or at least, the Seers didn't seem to fit to say anything in response. They once again donned their uncomfortable silence as Twilight, with noticeably shaky legs, meandered back to the red cushioned throne. Rather than taking a seat, she simply leaned against it, looking away from the Seers and instead at the wooden doors that served as the entrance to the chamber. Twilight could feel them staring at her.

"Your highness," Axiom started in his calm and placid voice, perhaps the voice of one that Twilight guessed had seen such tragedies several times before. "I gather that wasn't quite the most reassuring."

Twilight sighed. She didn't really want to address what she'd just seen. Not right then. The lingering emotion that the vision ended on was Scootaloo's joyful elation at having her mother with her, touching her; happiness laced with just a mild sense of confusion as Scootaloo's mother disappeared behind the blue blanket, Scootaloo's infantile mind unable to grasp that her parents were abandoning her. Maybe she thought it was a game. With the vision over, the pleasant sensation quickly eroded, replaced instead by Twilight's own emotional comprehension of what had transpired.

"I apologize," Archive blurted out as Twilight turned to face the Seers again. He looked surprised by his own exclamation, but he continued. "It took a while for me to fully grasp everything that whole moment entailed; I was mostly just keying in on the discussion about her being able to fly, but as soon as I heard their voices, I knew exactly what was coming next, and I just kept letting it play out..."

Twilight opened her mouth to quell the babbling Archive, but Axiom beat her to the punch. "Archive, there's hardly a need to apologize," he said. "Now, at least Twilight knows that Scootaloo can't fly."

His unvarnished phrasing stung the princess. "Yet," she added. "She can't fly yet."

The Seers, the sleeping Antenna naturally excluded, all grimaced and looked at each other. But they didn't say anything.

"I mean, I haven't done any research on it," Twilight continued, "but if Scootaloo's mother stopped with the steroids as soon as she found out about the foal, then though Scootaloo's wing growth might be stunted, she's still growing and—"

"Princess Twilight, sweetie?" Atlas began timidly, then appearing completely terrified as Twilight stopped speaking to look at her. "We... we have seen this happen before."

"Seen what happen before?" Twilight asked.

"What these sorts of drugs can do to foals. Unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies..."

"And?"

Perhaps Twilight's request for clarity came on too strongly, because the indifferent Axiom answered in Atlas' stead. "There have been cases where ponies of all types have regained full use of their races magical traits, but they are rare. Exceptionally rare," he added for emphasis. "Archive, in all of our time working together, how many ponies do you remember that recovered completely?"

Already feeling put under the spotlight for the unfortunate recollection he presented, Archive looked even more uncomfortable when he spoke. "Seven," he whispered hoarsely.

Twilight's ears drooped as she stared at her hooves against the crystalline floor. How many hundreds of thousands, or possibly millions, of ponies had the Seers observed? Yet only seven made a full recovery. Twilight was a firm believer in probability and mathematics, and calculating even the low-end of "total ponies cataloged" in conjunction with "ponies on steroids" variables, the odds were low. Exceptionally low, just like how Axiom had said.

"I grant you, the possibility isn't very high," Twilight said, "but there is a possibility, isn't there? If I could just see into her future, just to know for sure—"

"No can do, Princess Twilight," Appear interrupted her this time, looking remarkably less intimidated than Atlas had been. "Princess Celestia made it very clear that we cannot show an Alicorn's future, or those with a strong emotional attachment to them. Not after what happened with her."

The gears in Twilight's head immediately started spinning. "Something happened with her?"

"It did, and it's entirely her business," Appear replied warily.

"Of course it is," Twilight said dismissively, "but you must have either shown her her future or somepony's future that was close to her in order for her to issue such an edict..."

Axiom sighed deeply; he must have known what Twilight was angling towards, but she didn't let his reaction stop her.

"...which means that you can show me, you just won't." Twilight finished with a dissatisfied huff.

"You of all ponies understand the importance of doing things by the book," Axiom told her, "and you also have the rare experience of trying to manipulate time to convey a message. Or try to, rather."

Twilight remembered the instance he was referring to with a blush on her face. After discovering the spell, she was visited by a much bedraggled future-self who warned her about her future... only for Twilight to inadvertently bring about the exact same circumstances that inevitably found herself becoming a much bedraggled nervous wreck.

"The future accounts for itself being seen, if that makes sense. Somehow, someway, and paradoxically, it does. Perhaps it's to do with the nature of expectations and beliefs, self-fulfilling prophecy and the like," he mused. "In any case, if you don't like what you see — and if the odds are anything to go by, you likely won't — you will inevitably try to change the future, and what you've seen will inevitably come to pass as a result despite your efforts to the contrary."

"W-what if I didn't do anything?" Twilight pleaded, knowing herself how lame that sounded.

"You couldn't not do anything," Alumni answered simply. "You and Princess Cadance are both princesses by virtue of your abilities to connect with others. Friendship and love, and caring for those close to you is a central part of who you are. Even just knowing what would, or wouldn't, happen and watching it play out would drive both of you to be... very unhappy."

"It's not about an event though," Twilight cried, "it's about who she is! Flying is a part of her, as both a pony, and as a pegasus! She just wants to know whether she'll ever be normal!"

"Normal?" Appear chuckled to himself. "Twilight, I'm blind. She," he gestured clumsily with his hoof towards Atlas next to him, "has zero, I mean ZERO, sense of direction."

"It's true," Atlas giggled, "I'd get lost in my own bedroom. I actually have been..."

"Alumni has pretty much no sense of who he is, doesn't even know who we're talking about now," Appear continued, and Twilight noticed that Alumni's face seem oddly blank at his mention, giving credence to Appear's statement. "Antenna has been asleep since she was born, Archive's short term memory is about as potent as a goldfish, and Audile..."

The pink pony waved cheerfully at Twilight, her marker and whiteboard obvious tokens of her inability to hear or speak.

"...Well, you can tell that much I'm sure. The only normal one here is Axiom, and as often as he spends with us, even that's debatable. So what is normal anyways?"

"I'm so sorry," Twilight uttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "Such a poor choice of words, I-I don't know what I was thinking..."

"Don't worry about it," Atlas offered gently. "We've all come to terms with our quirks and oddities. I know it seems hard to accept, but in time, Scootaloo will see and accept herself for how she's meant to be, airborne or not."

The platitude was meant to be a comfort, and by all accounts, it was a well-reasoned and effective one. But the mentions of acceptance and time conjured a notion in Twilight's head. A small, niggling, and potentially very uncomfortable notion.

"What did she see?" she asked, looking towards Archive.

"What did who see?" he asked in return, face awash in confusion.

"Who? Scootaloo's mother, I meant." Twilight tried to answer as gently as possible despite her frustration at Archive's memory issue.

"Scootaloo's mother..." There was a tingle in the air as Alumni closed his eyes in concentration, no doubt psychically channeling the relevant information to his friend. Archive's eyes widened almost immediately, and he glanced around nervously. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Axiom said that the future, somehow, accounts for itself being seen. Does that mean that it becomes fixed? Inevitable?" Twilight pondered aloud.

"I did say that, Twilight," Axiom spoke with a sudden coolness to his voice. "But if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I would ask that you please strongly reconsider before continuing."

Twilight knew the implications of what she was edging towards, but she carried on nonetheless. "Archive, please... you have to remember. What did you ponies show to her?"

Archive opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came forth. Twilight felt a compounding pang of guilt when she saw his increasingly anxious reaction, and lowered her eyes to stare at his hooves fidgeting upon his seat.

Axiom cleared his throat. "You've heard our gift, so to speak, being referred to in texts as 'the princess' blessing,' have you not?"

Twilight nodded her head slowly. Audile's marker squeaked as it danced across the whiteboard.

"But did you also know it has been called 'the princess' curse'?'"

The alicorn nodded again, turning her neck to view a much more somber looking Axiom. He already appeared to be older than the other seers, but the grim expression on his face seemed to exacerbate his age even more. "I was curious how that came to be," she admitted.

"We made a choice very early on to bestow our visions to the other ponies while they slept. Dreams are a much more preferable way to experience emotional highlights of another ponies life, rather than while they were awake and could potentially endanger themselves. You'll notice that you have found yourself inadvertently collapsed on the floor from your throne while they commenced."

"Right, makes sense," Twilight said with a blush.

"Now, thanks to Archive and his uncanny memory, we can recall the past without issue," Axiom gestured towards Archive with a hoof, "the future is much more tenuous. Remember how we were still seeing Scootaloo's surges of emotion from the present, more or less, before we stopped? Like the flag waving tryouts, and her recent fight? There's a lot more approximation when trying to view the future. For better or worse, we show both the emotional peaks... and valleys."

"You can't control it?" Twilight asked incredulously. "Or be more precise about it?"

"To an extent, we can; but the timeline... it becomes very compressed. Like a blink of an eye in the span of eternity. And there are a myriad of moments like those in a ponies life, your highness, and I mean that literally. Even moreso in a younger pony's life, when they still have yet to learn to properly harness their emotions. A glass of spilled milk, if you'll pardon the idiom, can be overwhelming for them! Aiming for specificity is like trying to parse a few droplets of water from the rushing water in the Whitetail Rapids," Axiom explained with a noted defensive edge to his voice. Twilight couldn't blame him, not necessarily. After hearing just how imprecise their foresight seemed to be, she didn't quite understand how they could function as the psychic advisors that had warranted such secrecy.

"We're good, but we're not that good," Appear added meekly, earning a small collective laugh from the room at large.

"What we used to do long ago, and what we've been doing very recently again, was call upon the talents of Princess Luna to help," Axiom said.

"Princess Luna?" Twilight tilted her head. "Why?"

"She watches over the night, but also over the dreams of all the ponies in Equestria," he explained. " When she was young, she very bravely offered to take what we would see; our visions of the future, the good and the bad, and sift through them to find the relevant parts relating to the ponies earning their cutie marks. She would use what she learned from us to create a pleasant dream much more... palatable than the barrage of moments we would show."

"I didn't know that Luna did all of that," Twilight said in awe. "That's amazing."

"She takes no small measure of pride in the task. She quite loves the role she plays in helping ponies earn a name that's befitting of their destiny, and giving their parents a joyful glimpse into their foal's future. Though she does so much less frequently now than.. before."

The princess understood. Nightmare Moon probably had zero interest in helping in such matters during her stay on the moon.

"Naturally, we couldn't call upon her Princess Luna in her state," Axiom continued. "Celestia tried to fill in at first, with what her sister taught about dreams, but it was too much for her. Her guilt and grief over her sister's fate on top of ruling over Equestria by herself... wading through our sorrows to come to find the moments of joy was not something she could bring herself commit to for long."

There was a tapping of plastic on plastic, and the collective of ponies in the chamber turned to look at the white board floating in front of the pink Audile's now obscured face.

"And she was REALLY tired!"

Twilight tried to chuckle at the gesture of levity with the rest of the Seers, but found herself faltering. It was difficult to imagine her idol being so overwhelmed, but Twilight could scarcely hold Princess Celestia's decision against her. Twilight must have worn her doubts upon her countenance, because Atlas very quickly offered her yet another platitude.

"She's not ashamed of it," she started, "and you shouldn't feel ashamed for her. She wouldn't want that."

"I don't, not at all," Twilight assured her.

"Good. Princess Celestia tells us that she often tries to stress to you that she's only a pony too, though you often seem unwilling to see her as such."

Twilight felt a hot flush splash across her face, and promptly changed the subject.

"So what exactly does all this have to do with Scootaloo's mother?" She asked hastily.

"This is where 'the princess' curse' comes into effect," Axiom told her. "For the next one thousand years, our visions were bestowed upon thousands ponies that asked to know of their foal's cutie marks each Newborn Celebration Day. Only, without Luna to help shape them into pleasant, hopeful, and inspiring dreams, the parents experienced the whole gamut of emotions."

Twilight's lip curled downward into a frown. "The good and the bad," she said quietly.

Axiom nodded solemnly. "If the foal's lives were to be fraught with hardship, the parents called our visions nightmares and warned others to stay away. The other end of the spectrum, predictably, did the opposite. It had a lot to do with economic stature, sadly; the more common working class was dissuaded from the princess' blessing until it was virtually forgotten, while the more well-to-do carried on with the tradition among themselves."

"Like my parents did with me and my brother," Twilight said, feeling another pang of guilt when she realized that she had really not wanted for anything as a filly.

"Not you," Archive piped up. "Just your brother. They would have gleaned very little about you anyways, given how early you bonded with Cadance. I believe that Twilight Velvet and Night Light were just more assured as parents after raising Shining Armor. Or perhaps they just wanted to be surprised. A lot of parents used to object to our knowledge on that basis alone. If you ever wondered, that might explain your more traditional family name compared to your sibling."

"I never thought to ask Mom or Dad about that before. I just sort of accepted it..." she trailed off, thinking again about her charmed home life that she had also taken for granted.

Perhaps it was his untold years of experience at seeing conclusions, but the remarkably perceptive Axiom seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.

"Your parents worked hard to provide for you two. Take pride in that. Self authoring and publishing books is no small feat," he said, referring to the alicorn's parents and their line of work. "Neither is becoming an athletics physician. And neither is becoming a Wonderbolt cadet. Or a real-estate accountant."

"You're talking about Scootaloo's family," Twilight stated glumly, reminded of Scootaloo's parents aspirations from the vision.

"Her biological one," he corrected her. "So, now that you know some of the potential pitfalls of the Cabinet of Seers, would you like to ask Archive what her mother saw?"

Twilight blinked and nodded her head slowly.

Archive bit his lip once more, and hesitated before he answered. "It... it wasn't good," he said plainly.

"Scootaloo has a rough lot in life, your highness," Alumni spoke up. "Being orphaned isn't good for a pony's self esteem, as you can imagine. Precocious as she is, she's often wondered why. What could she have possibly done being so young that made her parents reject her? And when her wings failed to grow like her pegasus peers, it compounded those thoughts even more." He paused for a second, a small, almost imperceptible current filling the room. Alumni turned to look at Archive, then to Axiom.

"...She," Archive said with a pained look of realization on his face, his eyes watering. "When she was at her lowest... she often wondered if her parents knew that something was wrong with her. If they knew that she would never fly, and didn't want the shame of having a daughter like that."

The room was utterly silent for a moment, but Twilight could feel it in the air. The faint prickling of guilt emanating from the shared thoughts of the Seers.

"And now to address your inference, Twilight," Axiom said with a sigh. "Scootaloo isn't alone in her train of thought. You think that because of the troubled life we showed Scootaloo's parents, that we pushed them to abandon her. That her circumstance is our fault."

That was, of course, what Twilight was thinking. She didn't mean for it to come across as accusatory as Axiom had stated, but perhaps the Seers could tell anyways. Emotions and feelings were their specialty, after all.

"It doesn't do to dwell on the hypothetical," Axiom told her calmly.

"And yet, she does, every single day. Haven't you ever wondered?" Twilight asked, her voice shaking. "If the future accounts for itself being seen, then her mother glimpsing Scootaloo's future sealed her fate, didn't it?"

"It's would be easy to make that assumption," Axiom said gravely. "It's a true chicken-or-egg paradox, isn't it?" He asked the question with genuine uncertainty, before his tone drifted back to that of a marked surety. "But it doesn't factor in choice. Scootaloo's mother chose to ask for the princess' blessing, yes. But she also chose to use steroids. She chose to go to that party, and she chose to—" he paused for a moment "—behave irresponsibly with Scootaloo's father."

"Yes, but—"

"But what she didn't choose, Princess Twilight, is to ever come back to her daughter. Neither of her parents did, not in the way Scootaloo had expected."

Twilight was sputtering incoherently. Her gambit to try and guilt the Seers into "fixing their mistake" was not going at all like she had hoped. And Axiom wasn't wrong about anything he was telling her. "I—but— who are her parents anyways?" Twilight fired off in desperation, eager to get something anything that would help.

Alumni opened his mouth to answer before a firm tingle pervaded the air.

"Does it matter now? What would you do if you knew?" Axiom queried.

Twilight thought that she had made great strides in communicating with ponies since her lonely days in the library, being able to use reason and logic to try and steer the answers to questions before she had asked them. But the countless years in Eres, vicariously living out the lives in countless other ponies... Axiom seemed to know just what to say to dispute her arguments. It was frightening.

"They haven't forgotten the filly they abandoned, I assure you," he said. "Her mother hasn't forgotten what curse she afflicted her daughter with certainly. They both made token gestures, but they both know it isn't enough. They both feel shame for their cowardice, but their fear of confronting their own 'mistake' is too great for either to overcome. Trust us, we know," he said all of this with a fierce quietude. "And finding them wouldn't help with her inability to fly. That's what you asked us about, wasn't it? Why should her familial woes be of concern to you?"

Appear coughed from his seat. "Hey, uh, buddy, maybe ease up a little?" Twilight offered him a grateful glance from her teary eyes before she remembered that he couldn't see it.

"This is why Celestia asked us to refrain from showing those futures," Axiom explained coldly. "Caring too much about the feelings of your subjects only complicates—"

"Subjects?" Twilight asked incredulously, her own fear and regret morphing to a pulsing anger. "Her name is Scootaloo. And do I care for her feelings?" She hesitated for only a second, doing her best to take stock of her emotional inventory as her temper flared. "Yes... Yes I do."

"Perhaps the emotional attachment in your relationship wasn't as one sided as you supposed," Axiom suggested thoughtfully, his acidity all but gone, replaced again by his soft and quiet demeanor. As if he had called Twilight's bluff just so she would admit just how much Twilight had grown to care for Scootaloo over the last few days. Twilight felt like a foal, and was not at all pleased about it.

"So what? Is that so wrong to want for her to be happy? To help relieve her of doubts that have plagued her since her 'precocious' foalhood, just like you said?"

"No," Axiom replied simply. "But becoming this concerned with one filly that asked you for help sets a dangerous precedent. Within one week, Celestia had to stop sorting through the feelings of ponies. Not just because it was painful, though it certainly was. But because she knew she couldn't stop all of them from hurting. And that hurt her, just like it's hurting you right now for Scootaloo."

He was dead on, and Twilight knew it. She knew she should have relented and accepted his answer. But she could see the look of disappointment on Scootaloo's face already. That the one favor she asked of Twilight couldn't be fulfilled. And the filly would go back to lamenting her tiny, stupid wings while still hoping beyond hope for that one day when they would finally do what they were made to do. All because these ponies refused to do her one small favor. And for what? Some centuries old rule? Celestia was just a pony, like she so often tried reiterate, and maybe this was just another mistake. Like a feedback loop, Twilight's thoughts perpetuated even more indignation. She could feel her anger floating around in the air, like a haze, trapped in the crystalline chamber, and desperate for release. Twilight obliged.

"She just wants to know if she'll ever fly!" she shouted, "it's not like the fate of the world depends on her knowing that!"

Then something happened. Her rage vanished instantly, replaced by the absolute definition of unfeeling. Like her emotions had been removed completely. She supposed she should have been frightened, but it was impossible.

"Not for all," a small female voice whispered seemingly from the air itself. It was quiet, soft, almost inaudible, yet somehow magnified to be positively deafening. "Not for all, but for some."

Then joy. Elation. Jubilation even! Every single feeling synonymous for 'happy' that Twilight and her plethora of thesauruses could muster exploded within Twilight at once. Her eyes tearing up, she could see the Seers staring at her in cheerful disbelief before the room vanished into the now-familiar blackness preceding a vision.

"What's going on?" Twilight asked with a stifled laugh, hoping that they could still hear her.

"It's Antenna," Axiom thoughts echoed within her, "she must want you to see something. Everypony, get to it!"

Five variations of "yes" sounded at once within Twilight's mind.

"Location is set, somewhere between Winsome Falls and Whitetail Woods. But goodness me, we're moving quick!" Atlas's voice chimed, "Appear?"

The blackness gave way to a brilliant blue, blinding Twilight's eyes. White clouds were blazing past her on the right as green forest blurred below her. But immediately in front of Twilight, outstretched before her, were not her purple forelegs. Instead, smaller orange hooves pushed forward, as if to try and pierce the sky itself. As fast as she was going, she very well could have.

Can this be? Is this—

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaahooooooooooooo!" Scootaloo's voice left her mouth and joined the rushing of the wind as the vision's soundscape came roaring to life in Twilight's ears.

It is!

"She sure sounds excited, huh, Twilight?" Audile's voice sounded.

Scootaloo's wings buzzed frantically, ripping through through the air. She could feel pressure in her stomach as she soared above Equestria, the smallest hint of anxiety overwhelmed by the sheer ecstasy of everything else. She felt like the luckiest, happiest pony that there ever was!

Yes! Yes, Yes, Yes! She's flying! Scootaloo's flying, she's—

A very real thud against her very real chin interrupted Twilight's parade of celebration. The visuals went first, then the ceasing of the howling air was replaced by her own voice echoing the word "ow!" around the crystalline chamber. She was quite a ways away from her throne at the center of the room where she had started. She was also down on the floor, her chin smarting as she lay in an undignified heap.

"What happened?" She asked with a smile, the feeling of happiness still quite prominently infecting her despite her unflattering position.

Atlas giggled at the question. "You were celebrating right along with Scootaloo, Twilight."

Start The Machine

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Twilight rose to her hooves, grinning from ear to ear as the infectious joy from the shared vision slowly began to ebb. She could literally feel the waves of emotion bouncing from the crystalline walls, the cheerful whooping of Scootaloo sounding so faintly that the princess couldn't tell if it was real, or just so resounding in her memory. The Seers, either from the vision itself or from Twilight's broad smile, also glowed with a happy satisfaction.

"Scootaloo's going to be just thrilled when I tell her," Twilight said. "Absolutely thrilled."

"I imagine she will be," Axiom spoke thoughtfully. The infectious smile had waned, and he scratched his chin with a hoof contemplatively. Archive, perhaps from the undue pressure Twilight and Axiom had placed on him before, looked similarly concerned.

"Thank you so much for showing me," Twilight said. "I'm sorry I was being so..."

"Emotional?"

The irony wasn't lost on the alicorn. "Right," she nodded bashfully.

"Now you can see why that rule is in place," Appear took advantage of the momentary gap in silence. "Emotions clouding judgment, all that jazz. Gotta say, I'm really glad that we were able to show you."

"It was nice of you to show me," Twilight agreed, "though I wonder... why did you? You seemed so hard and fast on that rule."

"Antenna," Alumni said simply. "Her body is asleep, always has been, but her mind is constantly connected to the emotional spectrum. Either you were so close to her body here that your anger was especially irritating..."

"Oops," Twilight whispered with a splash of guilt, though she reasoned that after not stirring during that shouting match earlier, Antenna wouldn't particularly notice her efforts to remain quiet now.

"...Or perhaps something of significant importance in the future is dependent on you seeing Scootaloo fly," Axiom finished for his fellow Seer.

"Oh dear," Twilight suddenly felt the weight of immense responsibility creeping upon her. "I don't suppose we could ask her?"

Axiom thought for a moment before shaking his head. "We can synchronize with her and her connection to the emotional spectrum; that's how we can see visions at all. But interacting with her directly is practically impossible."

"But she spoke, didn't she?" Twilight queried, looking at the small form of the filly laying in her bed, body steadily rising and falling as she breathed. "That was her voice, wasn't it?"

"You heard her voice?" Atlas asked with a raised eyebrow, looking to Audile, who shrugged soundlessly back at her. "It takes like, a crazy amount of concentration for her to communicate with others on her own. Scootaloo must be really special."

Twilight was reminded of the previous Friday night. She had told a tearful Scootaloo that she was special. Everypony was, of course, special in their own way, but Scootaloo either didn't or didn't want to believe it. And now, three days later, powerful secret psychics were hypothesizing that the young pegasus was, in fact, special enough to break a thousand year old rule. Coincidence didn't often sit well, with Twilight. But if it were she thought I suppose it's a happy coincidence. There was an abundance of squeaking, the telltale sound of a marker skating across the plastic coating of Audile's whiteboard.

PTS: But she spoke didn't she? That was her voice wasn't it?
At: You heard her voice. It takes like a crazy amount of concentration for her to communicate with others on her own. Scootaloo must be really special.
Or Antenna really wanted you to calm down!

Twilight giggled and blushed. "Sorry, again."

"No need to worry, your highness," Axiom waved a hoof, "though her motivation makes me wonder. Believe it or not, it's nice to not have the answers sometimes."

"But just so were clear, that was real?" Twilight asked worriedly. The circumstances surrounding the sudden vision depicting exactly what she wanted to see seemed too good to be true. "That was Scootaloo flying?"

"We don't show anything that hasn't happened or won't happen," Axiom assured her. "At any rate, you would know if emotions are faked. It's like when somepony laughs at a joke that isn't funny, something just feels forced. Off somehow."

"I think I understand," Twilight agreed with him, "sometimes my jokes don't quite land with the others, but they usually chuckle anyways. It's nice that they don't want to hurt my feelings, but... yeah, I can tell."

"At any rate, I think that about takes care of what you came here for, yes?" Axiom asked her as Twilight's eyes flickered towards the wooden double doors. Her ears were pinned back guiltily.

"I suppose it does," she replied with a reflexive brush of her bangs. "Thank you again, so much."

"Serving royalty is literally what we're here for," Appear chuckled. "If you want to get going and tell Scootaloo the good news, you just have to say so."

The princess sighed with relief. "I really didn't want to seem rude, but yes! It's literally going to make her day!"

"I imagine you're rather tired as well," Alumni offered. "It was a fairly intense session, especially for a first time."

Twilight took stock of her current state. She was excited more than anything, followed by a heaping helping of happy. "Actually, no. I don't feel tired at all."

More squeaking from the whiteboard.

You will!

"I don't know if I should be worried," Twilight said jokingly, "But Archive?"

Archive, who hadn't spoken a word since Antenna initiated her vision, looked up at the princess. He seemed bleary eyed, as if he'd been ripped from a deep and restful sleep. "Hmm?" he hummed an inquisitive hum towards the princess addressing him.

"Your daughter, Record, she wanted me to bring you back home once we were finished here," Twilight explained softly. "She showed me where, but perhaps you could refresh my memory. It's been a lot to take in."

There was the clop of hooves along the crystal floor as, not Archive, but Axiom stood up from his seat. "That won't be necessary, your highness."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. It seems we have many things to discuss. Perhaps a policy change," Axiom told her. "With you and Cadance being so closely tied to your subjects emotional well being, perhaps the rule we seem to have broken today needs to be re-evaluated. Else, we won't be of any use to you."

Atlas shuffled from her seat, stretching her legs out. "I don't know if you could tell, but we really liked having you here today. Your inner voice is so different compared to Luna and Celestia. In a good way! Not that Princess Luna or Celestia have bad internal voices, it's just..." Atlas immediately sat back down sheepishly. "It was really nice to meet you, is what I meant to say."

As Twilight rubbed her foreleg against the other, the Seers all made noises of agreement. "I'm really glad to have met you all, too," she said sincerely, scanning over the group (Audile had simply drawn a large smiling face on her whiteboard). "Thanks again so much for your help. It might be a bit late for Scootaloo's project presentation, but at least I can tell her that the princess' blessing is, in fact, quite real. I'll be sure to pass along her gratitude next time I come along... though I suspect you'll already know."

The Cabinet of Seers nodded warmly at the alicorn. "It will be nice, for a change, to hear it from an actual pony," Appear told her. "Nothing like the real thing."

"Indeed," Twilight said. "I'll do my best to recount her reaction for you as well. Take care, everypony!" With that, she turned around, feeling their gazes on her back as she sauntered towards the large wooden doors behind the red cushioned throne. It was a very strange feeling, Twilight decided, to have ponies seem so glad for her approval. Maybe that was why they eventually showed Scootaloo's flight, so as to not disappoint her. Twilight hoped that wasn't the case.

"It was an honor, your highness. I hope to see you again soon," Axiom's voice rang out as Twilight's hoof stopped just shy of the wooden door. She looked back to him; he was smiling, but there was a sadness in his eyes. It was just as he had said earlier; it felt off somehow.

Twilight squinted as she emerged from the exit of the crystalline tower, the brilliant blues and greens of Eres were awash in an orange glow, a drastic departure from the muted cool palette of the crystal tower she had spent the last several hours in. She raised a hoof to shield her eyes from the setting sun, and standing next to the fountain with Starswirl's statue was Archive's daughter, Record.

"Princess Twilight!" She trotted up to her excitedly, neck craning high to peer into the darkened vestibule behind the alicorn. "Is Dad coming, or...?"

Twilight shook her head. "No. They have some things to discuss, it seems. But Axiom promised to make sure your father got home!"

Record nodded in turn, her blonde mane catching a breeze and wafting upwards. "Then allow me to escort you to the gate!"

"That sounds delightful," Twilight replied gratefully as she motioned past the fountain to the street. As she did, she noticed that several other ponies had emerged from the houses lining the path, and were looking curiously at her. "It was this way, right?"

"To Canterlot Castle, yes. Your castle door isn't ready yet." Record said as the two ponies started their saunter through the town.

"My castle..." Twilight chuckled, "I don't have a castle; I have a library. And it certainly doesn't have any portal doors in it."

"A princess without her own castle?" Record tilted her head. "Maybe it's a work in progress on both our ends."

"It'd be news to me if it were," Twilight said, doing her best to disguise her discomfort at the subject of her rather unconventional attempt at royalty. It hadn't been too terribly long since she had been crowned a princess, but she felt simultaneously underwhelmed and overwhelmed all at once. Though she was still feeling the residual elation of Scootaloo's impending joy, she noted uncomfortably that even in this foreign universe, she still didn't fit the mold of a normal princess. Record must have sensed that she had tread upon a sore subject, because she didn't say anything after. Coupled with the stares of the Eres townsfolk, Twilight felt increasingly awkward after a few short minutes and broke the silence.

"Where were they when we came in?" Twilight asked, regarding the villagers that the duo were passing. A young colt with a light blue coat and a short dark blue mane offered her a smile, which she returned. She instantly felt more at ease; Pinkie Pie would have loved to see her principles applied so effectively.

"We usually go inside of our houses when the metronomes start going again," Record answered. At the mention of metronomes, Twilight couldn't help but notice that Record answered shortly after being asked, instead of interrupting her during the question; she supposed that her timeline had adjusted to more match this place. "Sometimes the sessions can become quite intense. The crystal absorbs most of the... feelings, I guess you could call them; but some of it filters through the wooden doors. Our homes have some crystal lining to help insulate it, in case the Seers' visions get really intense."

"Then why aren't the doors crystal?" Twilight queried, not just to make conversation, but also out of genuine curiosity.

"I asked Dad once after Celestia visited a while back. I was out by the lake, and I didn't notice the door had opened. So many intense feelings just kind of washed over me..." she paused for a moment. "But he said that it was because they needed at least a little release, or the emotions would just keep echoing inside with them." Twilight was about to ask what the net effect of that would be, but Record beat her to the punch. "He didn't say what would happen to the Seers if that were to occur."

"Did you do the thing again? With the timeline and your ability?"

"I just heard you were inquisitive. You've caught up, I think. Just in time for you to go back home."

The two ponies had reached the edge of the town, and the winding path leading to the pale obelisk lay before them. The stone itself was positioned with the sun almost directly above it on the horizon; it gave the fleeting impression to Twilight that the realm was illuminated by a stone torch.

"I was worried at first, you know," Record spoke softly, coming to a halt next to Twilight, who turned her body to face her escort.

"Worried about what?"

"When your session was going on, there was a lot of strong stuff," Record explained, "A lot of not pleasant stuff."

Twilight frowned, her gaze settling on Record's hooves.. "Oh... you didn't see anything, did you?"

"No," Record said simply, "but I could feel it. I'm really glad it seemed to end on such a high note! Whoever it was, they were, or are going to be, very ha⁠—"

Twilight wondered why Record stopped, but then she felt it. Fear. It was an horrible, all-encompassing sensation of dread, and Twilight felt, despite being in the warm spring evening, the icy chill of of mortal terror. Panic began to set in, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Her heart was racing, and she didn't know why.

"R-record? What's going on? I'm... I don't like this. Please help!" Twilight started to babble confusedly, looking around for whatever was threatening her. Record's eyes were shut tight as she muttered under her breath; she too was suffering from whatever was affecting Twilight, but she seemed far more adept at dealing with it. The unicorn's eyes fluttered open.

"Your highness, it's⁠—it's alright," she whispered, her fragile voice contradicting her proclamation. "It's the Seers. They must be in a vision. You're safe. You're alright."

Twilight closed her eyes tightly, letting Record's assurances gently wash over her. Whether it was the impromptu counseling or the Seers' vision coming to an end, the fear started to fade away. "What in the world was that?" Twilight asked with a shaky voice, opening her eyes once more.

"What an odd coincidence," Record remarked, "that we should be talking about that the waves of emotion coming from their visions right before they conduct another one. It was a doozy, too."

"I'll say," Twilight agreed. Another coincidence, and this time an unhappy one. "I thought they were just discussing a policy change?"

"Well, change can be scary sometimes," Record attempted a joke, but the fear lingering in the air wasn't so easily quelled. Twilight didn't even offer a courtesy smile. "Sorry, bad joke. Something my Dad would say." Twilight did, however, crack the smallest of grins at Record's apology.

"At least you tried," Twilight said. "Is that what happens when you are caught outside?"

"Yeah, but it's usually not nearly that strong," Record replied. "Thank goodness for crystal magic. I hope whoever that was about was, or is going to be, alright. I can never tell which."

"You and me both," Twilight agreed wholeheartedly, and felt a fresh wave of her very own anxiety start to settle in. "How do you know when they are done? Like, done done?"

"There's a light at the top of the tower that's lit when they are in session," she explained. "Of course, you can't really see it during the day, but they usually only produce visions at in the very early morning when the rest of us are at home and sleeping. That's when Luna has been coming to see them recently."

"Doesn't Princess Celestia come to see them too?"

"She does, but she generally doesn't stick around too long. Dad says that she gives them names for the blessing, but they actually show the visions when Princess Luna comes to call. It's a whole process," Record added.

"So I've heard," Twilight said succinctly. "Well, what do you say we get going in case they decide to start another one?"

"They said you were smart," Record smiled "We'll make a game of it; Psychic author versus librarian princess, I'll race you to the door!"

"We have the Running of the Leaves this week, I could definitely use the warm up!" Twilight exclaimed to Record's confusion. "It's an Equestrian thing. Whenever you're ready..." Twilight postured herself with her right foreleg forward, ready to sprint at .

"It should go without saying, but no flying, and stick to the path!" Record cried before mirroring Twilight's position. She began her countdown with a flourish. "Three..." her horn glowed in time as she spoke. "Two... One!" A loud bang sounded through the air as a small yellow explosion erupted in the air above them from Record's horn. The two ponies took off at a sprint, their hooves clopping noisily across the ground.

"Speaking of crystal magic, you ever heard of the Crystal Empire?" Record called back as Twilight lagged behind her, "They have a Crystal Heart that's all sorts of magical!"

Now she was just showing off! "I... know! I was there!" Twilight panted. Less talking, more running! Twilight willed her legs to move faster, and by the time they had rounded the second corner, Twilight's front legs were parallel to Record's back legs, and gaining ground. Record looked behind her with a surprised look on her face.

"Well, would you look at that?"

Inspired by her declaration, Twilight pushed even faster. They rounded another corner, with the stone obelisk dead ahead... but Record was speeding up too. Twilight calculated the distance ahead and the speed they were going, and she knew that she didn't have any hope of surpassing her. Still, she kept up her pace as best she could. Record approached the door first, and slowed down as quickly as she could without toppling over.

"Not bad, your highness," Record gasped. "A lot more of a challenge than my dad, that's for sure."

"Thanks," Twilight panted. "You're definitely no slouch. One of the best athletes in Equestria is going to be giving me flying lessons, I'll see if she can't work some cardio in there too."

"Sounds like you're up for a rematch," Record said, "In that case, so am I!" Record ambled up to the white obelisk with the brown wooden door looking even more ill-fitting against the stone structure, Twilight stepping alongside her.

"I suppose..." Twilight started with a cough, raising her hoof against the handle. "It was nice to meet you, Record. I'll see you again soon."

"Indeed. Take care of yourself, Princess Twilight... Oh! Before you go, I wanted to know if I could ask a favor?"

Twilight paused with her hoof resting atop the apparatus. "Of course! What is it?"

"I wrote some books, using the name P.F. Visions," Report explained. "It's another bad pun, but maybe... if you could read some of them? I'd love to hear some feedback from somepony as well read as you."

"I would be absolutely thrilled to, Record. Consider it done!"

"Thanks, Twilight. See you soon?"

Twilight looked back at the hopeful grin and offered one of her own. The handle clicked and the door began to open. In an instant, Twilight felt something overtake her. She didn't consider herself a sore loser, but she suddenly felt a seething rage overtake her. Feelings of anger and betrayal consumed her. Record's eye's narrowed in kind, and Twilight turned away with haste. This has to be the Seers she thought, and Twilight wasted not another second in stepping through the frame and back into Equestria.

"Twilight!"

Princess Celestia's voice greeted Twilight as the East Wing of the castle appeared in front of her. Twilight walked forward, and the door closed behind her. The silver lock automatically began to rotate shut, and the orange glow of an Eres sunset was wiped from right to left from the gap beneath the door. Twilight turned her head from the inert portal to the anticipatory face of her mentor looking down at her.

"Princess Celestia! You're still here? But it's been hours!" Twilight exclaimed.

"Only a few seconds over here actually," Celestia told her, "Which is a fairly long visit, all things considered. Time is funny that way. But how did it go? You must have seen quite a bit!"

"I... I did. It was... enlightening. And confusing. It went well, but then it didn't, and then it did. I know that doesn't make much sense but⁠—"

Celestia raised her hoof. "I know exactly what you mean. You are welcome to stay and rest, you look positively winded."

"I'm fine, honestly," Twilight assured her. "I just had a race with Archive's daughter, Record. I'm assuming you've met?"

Celestia nodded her head. "Of course. She's quick to reply, and just as fast on her hooves it seems. I might see her myself in just a moment."

"Oh?"

"Yes, those nobles from Baltimare from this morning? Before I met with you? They actually inquired about their expected foal, asking for the Princess' Blessing. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

Twilight bit her lip before replying. "It's not the first one that's happened today."

"Destiny is a funny thing, isn't it?" Celestia asked thoughtfully. Twilight didn't mention to her that Axiom had said the exact same thing earlier to her. The rule of three had already been reached as far as fateful coincidences was concerned in Twilight's eyes, and she didn't want to press further. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be just a moment."

"Before you go," Twilight said as Celestia's magic turned the lock of the door, the light from below now a faint blue-ish purple - perhaps one of an early sunrise or (Twilight shuddered internally) a late twilight, "they may want to talk to you about something. A change in policy, perhaps."

Celestia blinked, but didn't otherwise display any other emotion. Applejack would have called it a 'right proper poker face.' "I see," she said.

"Please don't be mad," Twilight spoke softly, ears pinned back.

"I'm fallible, Twilight," Celestia told her disbelieving pupil before turning around to look at the portal, "and if something I put into place long ago needs changing, then I am ready to re-evaluate it." The door opened, and a white glow surrounded Princess Celestia. She stepped inside, and the door swung shut, silently, behind her as the lock clicked again. Twilight only just had time to exhale, and the door opened again.

"You weren't kidding..." Twilight said as Celestia stepped towards her. "Everything go okay?"

Celestia cleared her throat before answering. "It did."

"And the policy? Your rule?"

"That's still up in the air for the time being. It's been in place since my sister was banished, over a thousand years ago, so it will take quite a bit of time to see if my guideline needs to be altered. Come, let's get you to your room."

Twilight still didn't feel tired, but walked behind Princess Celestia back towards the exit of the East Wing nonetheless.

"Did they tell you what happened today? What they showed me?" Twilight was so happy that the Seers showed her Scootaloo's flight, but now, walking alongside the very pony that forbade them from doing so, she felt terribly guilty about doing whatever it was she did to coax Antenna to break the rule.

"They did!" Celestia replied, far more cheerfully than Twilight would have guessed. "Scootaloo gets exactly what she wanted, and you learned a valuable lesson. It seems like a win-win."

"I guess it does..." Twilight yawned, though she stifled it. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" she asked nonchalantly.

"After this? Reading the newspaper if I can," Celestia said simply.

"The newspaper? Don't you have royal messengers for important information?" Twilight's eyes were growing heavier with each step she took.

"For big boring princessy things, yes," Celestia said as they passed the last of the Phoenixwood torches lining the corridor. "But for everything else, the things that actually matter to the ponies, there's no better source than the local newspaper. As I understand it, Scootaloo once had a stint as a reporter, didn't she?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, the foal free pre-e-esssss..." Twilight couldn't conceal her exhausted yawn this time. "She's sorry about that cake thing, by the way."

Celestia giggled. "I do love a good cake. It might be the reason we have so many parties. You sound like you are quite party pooped, Twilight."

"I am," Twilight admitted, "I don't know where it came from."

"You know how parties can be exhausting? After one of Pinkie Pie's especially, you probably sleep quite well, yes?" Twilight nodded her head in understanding, snapping her head rather abruptly up as she did so. "After a long session with the Seers like you had, I bet you experienced enough happiness to fill several days of endless partying. And I'd be willing to bet, enough sorrow to fill several sad, lonesome, and draining days."

"Mhmmm..." Twilight stopped walking, her legs slowly crumpling beneath her. "So draining..."

"It's all catching up to you," Celestia whispered to her as the younger pony was levitated to Celestia's back in a yellow aura. Celestia raised her wings up just enough to act as a support to keep Twilight securely held in place with large feathery pillows. The white alicorn adjusted her route from the throne room to Twilight's former bedroom. The smaller pony softly snoring on her back attracted many stares from her royal guard and other castle denizens, but Celestia paid them no heed.

Twilight was nestled into her old bed, and as the blanket was pulled up to her chin at the behest of Celestia's magic, the princess of the sun whispered into her pupil's ear;

"Sleep well, my little pony."

Halfway There

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Scootaloo awoke that morning to near pitch blackness, the iridescent glow of the blaring alarm clock a poor replacement for the sun that had yet to rise. Yet, her imagination upon waking was filled with sunlight. A dream, she supposed. One of the ocean, or as near enough as she could imagine; she had never seen the ocean. But before her was a massive body of water, blue-green underneath a brilliant orange sun that was either setting or rising. And though there wasn't a cloud in the sky, she remembered a rainbow, and feeling utter contentment.

That feeling lingered as she roused herself from her bed, and despite the very busy day ahead of her, she felt a combination of nervousness and excitement as well. She had work, yes: Her paper route, a morning shift at Barnyard Bargains, and a dinner shift at Olive's Garden. Before her evening shift, she had to deliver her Newborn Celebration Day presentation day to Cheerilee after school. But after that? She would visit Twilight, back from her visit with Princess Celestia and the Cabinet of Seers with news of the Princess' Blessing, and with it, news of her future and whether or not it would be an airborne one. She hoped beyond hoping that the answer would one of affirmation, that she would one day take to the skies on her own. But even if Twilight came back with disappointing news, at least she would know. She could be done worrying... if the Princess Blessing actually worked at all that is.

Too many ifs, Scootaloo thought as she spread peanut butter onto the bread of her morning breakfast sandwich. There's no doubt that peanut butter sandwiches were a most cost effective meal, but Scootaloo's dry and sticky mouth was quick to remind her that it was also best served with a glass of cold milk that she could ill afford. Once her problems with the bank were cleared up, she'd have to buy herself some.

There was a nip in the air that morning, and Scootaloo could have sworn she saw the faintest sliver of foggy breath in the air when she exhaled through her nostrils. She was warming herself well enough, the wagon behind the scooter she was pulling was filled with dozens of copies of Monday's Ponyville Express. The load got lighter with each delivery she made, however, and the sun rising higher gave her light enough to glimpse various headlines and articles. Weekend weather up in the air? read one, and Hung Jury: Courtroom drama Twelve Donkeys as frustrating as it sounds read another. She would have to discuss that with Ripple next time she worked with him. Scootaloo's wings buzzed faster as she sped along, hoping to avoid any of her fellow classmates before they left for school. It was bad enough they had to see her lose her temper with Diamond Tiara (to put it mildly), but seeing her working instead of preparing for school like the rest of them would just add to the "shame," and alienate her further. They didn't have a clue what she had to do to maintain a semblance of normalcy, and she was just fine with that. It would be just another thing for them to make fun of her for, as if having to work for a living was something to be embarrassed about. The flightless, family-free, working class filly fighting for a currently uncertain future.

Maybe they'd just feel sorry for me, Scootaloo thought, her paper route nearing its completion in the ritziest part of the town. She didn't want that either; she just wanted everypony to treat her as they'd always done. Her wings buzzed just a bit faster as she rode past the tall gates sealing off the Rich estate, haphazardly tossing a paper over the golden barrier. The size of the mansion within easily dwarfed her own abode.

But still, she thought to herself once she was free from the privileged gaze of such a decadent home. It is MY home. One of the only things I have to call my own. Best to keep it that way.

Hopefully after her day was done, and Twilight's meeting, she'd have just a touch more surety about at least some aspect in her future. Even just a little less confusion would be very, very helpful.

Time, however, seemed to adopt her confusion, and it made no effort to conceal it. Scootaloo's nerves were composed of equal parts dread and anticipation: Dread for the presentation and Twilight's findings, and anticipation for the exact same things. Not sure of how best to torment the filly, time simply changed the rate of its passing at random.

Scootaloo felt as though she'd stocked an hours worth of product onto the shelves of Barnyard Bargain's seasonal aisle, only to discover that a mere fifteen minutes had trickled away instead. Naturally, mopping a small spill in front of the refrigerated juices section couldn't have taken her but all of 15 minutes. The short, thick hand of the clock took a step forward to prove her wrong. Before she knew it, she was sitting in the breakroom anxiously nibbling her lunch variation of sandwich (it bore a striking similarity to her peanut butter laden breakfast meal). And then, the clock took its sweet, self absorbed time as the seconds ticked away at an agonizingly relaxed tempo. But then, 3:00 rolled around, and Scootaloo's time card was punched shortly thereafter.

School would be letting out in just a few minutes, and Scootaloo had to be ready with her presentation. She considered herself lucky that she was being given a chance to make up her assignment, and the last thing Scootaloo wanted to do was test Cheerilee's already stretched patience. She rushed home with her empty wagon as quickly as she could muster, thankfully avoiding any collisions with the townsfolk; the downside to her morning paper route meant that she couldn't bring her poster with her to work right away, owing to her wagon being used for the newspapers instead. She hurried through the front door of her home, snatching the posterboard from where she left it leaning against the staircase, and darted out before the front door even had a chance to slowly swing closed from her initial entry. She gently placed the posterboard in the wagon behind her scooter, and started off towards Ponyville Elementary.

Scootaloo didn't have a chance to see the clock hanging above the entryway in her house, but she felt a sinking feeling as she approached the schoolhouse. It felt like it had been at least twenty minutes since she had left Barnyard Bargains, and school should have been out of session. Yet, there were no fillies or colts leaving the schoolhouse, and no ponies playing on the playground. Did she take longer than she thought? What if she was really, really late?

"Oh no, no, no. Please still be here!" She parked her scooter haphazardly next to the front steps, grabbed her poster, and then hastily made her way up the steps. As she galloped through the hallway, all she heard was her panting and the quiet echoes of her hooves bouncing around her. Panic set in as she approached the door to her classroom, and she burst through the door...

...only to find the entirety of her class staring wide-eyed at her from their seats.

"Scootaloo?" Cheerilee asked from her desk at the front of the room, looking as confused as Scootaloo was. The rest of the class began to mumble quietly to each other, like a faint buzzing of bees. Out of the corner of her eye, Scootaloo could see the telltale white coat of Sweetie Belle, but made a conscious effort to avoid looking at her peers.

"I... I thought I was supposed to be here today after school. To give my report?" Scootaloo set her posterboard down in front of her, keeping the blank posterboard side of it facing her class. Her face was already very flushed from both her sprint to the school, and the ever increasing levels of embarrassment, and the last thing that she wanted her class to see was her (in hindsight} totally lame and mushy holiday choice. "Was I early? Should I come back or..."

Cheerliee smiled at the Pegasus. "Oh, no! You're just in time. Our class ran a bit late today, that's all. We were having a discussion about bullying, and it got a bit involved."

Oh no, Scootaloo thought, They spent the entire afternoon discussing how I beat up their classmate, and then I came bursting in like some madpony. This literally couldn't be any worse.

"I'll—" Scootaloo stumbled backwards to the door, her presentation sliding loose and falling to the floor. "I'll just come back later," she said with an acute awareness of her peers' piercing stares accosting her.

"No!" Apple Bloom burst out, and Scootaloo took the opportunity to glance at her class at last. They were all thankfully focused on her friend instead of her, but Scootaloo was quite a bit less thankful for what Apple Bloom seemed to be trying to do. Scootaloo wished she had a way to communicate that she just wanted to give her presentation to her teacher, and to be just left alone by her classmates. She was clearly already a joke to them, and her topic of choice wouldn't do her any favors.

"Doesn't anypony have anything that they want to say to Scootaloo?" Sweetie Belle chirped up, and in tandem, the entirety of Scootaloo's class turned to look at the mortified pegasus at the front of the room. Scootaloo's mouth went dry, and she had no idea what to do; she just wanted whatever was happening to stop.

Rumble shifted in his seat, but then straightened himself up. "I'm... I'm sorry," he said softly.

"You're... sorry?" Scootaloo echoed inaudibly, but the intent was loud and clear to her classmates.

"Yeah," Twist piped up, "we all are." The rest of her classmates murmured in various forms agreement.

"I don't understand," Scootaloo said dumbly. "What are you sorry for?"

Rumble answered again, his confidence bolstered by the unity of his class. "For laughing at you. Last week, with Diamond Tiara's presentation." Scootaloo's ears folded back. "We thought it was pretty funny at the time... but it wasn't. It was actually really mean of her, and of us."

"You see, Scootaloo," Cheerilee spoke again, "Throughout the course of our discussion today, we went over how it's not just the job of the bullied to speak up when someone is treating somepony else badly. It's everypony's job to say something when they know something is wrong. That goes for all of us, not just your classmates."

"What do you mean?" Scootaloo asked.

"I heard all sorts of remarks before, and I just chalked it up to normal teasing, like I had to deal with growing up," Cheerilee explained. "But I should have strived to do better. I should have said something about Diamond Tiara's behavior sooner, and for that, I hope you'll accept my apology."

Scootaloo didn't know what to say, so she just nodded her head in response. In her experience, it wasn't very often that older ponies would admit they were wrong. Especially a teacher; who would expect a pony whose calling was to teach to be incorrect?

"Now, is there anything you'd like to say to the class?" Cheerilee inquired.

Not really Scootaloo thought to herself. But she supposed that wouldn't be very appropriate. She hadn't done anything to her classmates as far as she knew, but something Cheerilee told her last Friday was nagging at her. Perhaps an apology was owed after all.

"And I'm sorry," Scootaloo said, "to all of you. Even after being teased like that, I shouldn't have lost my temper. You all have a right to feel safe at school—" Cheerilee beamed at this "—and I shouldn't have scared you by... doing what I did. Can you forgive me?"

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both rose from their seats, and made their way through the aisle to the front of the classroom. They exchanged looks with each other, standing before a wary Scootaloo, then nodded in silent agreement. Forelegs were wrapped around Scootaloo's shoulders as she found herself on the receiving end of a two-pronged hug.

"Apology accepted!" Sweetie Belle cried in her friend's ear.

"You're my friends, that doesn't count! You basically have to forgive me, right?" Scootaloo replied with a big silly grin on her face.

"What does that make uth?" came Twist's voice; the filly had appeared next to the crusaders, toothy smile and all. "We're your friendth too, right?"

"Umm..." Scootaloo hesitated as she felt another pair of hooves grapple her, "Yes?"

"Well, we definitely could have been better friends, couldn't we?" Rumble added as he too made his way to the front of the classroom. "Isn't that right, everypony?" he called over his shoulder to the cries of agreement from his classmates. "Looks like that's a yes!" He exclaimed as he embraced Scootaloo in yet another hug. She wanted to resist, but it felt... nice. She looked up from the floor and saw the rest of her class approaching, no doubt to offer their apologies via a swarm of hugs. She sighed and allowed herself another smile.

"Alright, everypony," Cheerilee cried over the din, the barest hint of moisture visible at the corner of her eyes. "I believe Scootaloo has a presentation?"

Scootaloo's reverie screeched to a halt. She'd almost forgotten why she'd arrived at the school to begin with. Her project had been pushed by the other ponies against the wall, and underneath the chalkboard. The last of her classmates brushed off of her, and to Scootaloo's horror, the herd ambled back to their seats instead of out the door. She glanced up at the clock; it was almost 3:25, almost fifteen minutes after school had officially ended. Surely, her classmates would rather go home instead of watching her silly presentation?

Her classmates seemed to disagree with her logic, as they all planted themselves in their desks. Scootaloo stole a glance at Cheerilee, who offered a nod of approval. "Whenever you're ready," she said. Scootaloo lifted up her posterboard, hesitating for a moment before turning it around to expose the front to the class. She steeled herself, taking a deep breath before she spoke.

"For my holiday project, I chose to cover Newborn Celebration Day."

Twilight's eyes blinked open blearily. She woke up to a sight she hadn't seen in many, many moons; her old quarters in Canterlot Castle, but she didn't know how she got there. She struggled to recall her journey there, and instead her brain was alight with everything she had since learned from the Seers: the princess's blessing, her brother's disdain, being cut off, Scootaloo flying, the books by P.F. Visions she needed to read for Record, and time's disparity between Equestria and Eres.

"Mmm..." she said sleepily, lifting her head to see the sunlight filtering in through the massive windows. She missed how much natural light she had here compared to the windows of the library. But why was it so bright? What time was it? "...time? Time! Oh goodness!" She stumbled out of bed, back hoof snagging on her inky blue bedsheets. She stumbled into a graceless heap on the floor, but quickly recovered and observed her self-cycling hourglass. If it was correctly calibrated, as she was sure it had been last she was here, then that meant the current time was...

"Two in the afternoon? Oh no, my sleep schedule! And Scootaloo!" She exclaimed aloud, hoping that there weren't any guards outside of her room listening to her ramble to herself. She wanted to clean the room up — it was still in the exact state she had left it since she hastily departed to Ponyville ages ago— but she needed to get back to Ponyville as soon as she could. School got out around 3:15, and Twilight estimated Scootaloo's presentation to be about fifteen minutes in length. That meant Scootaloo would probably be making her way to Golden Oak Library around 3:35 or so to speak with Twilight. Twilight flapped her wings a few times. She'd had several flight lessons with Rainbow Dash, but she didn't think she would be quite up to the trip from Canterlot to Ponyville just yet. Twilight galloped out of her old room, her magic closing the door behind her. She only hoped that there would be a train ready to depart to Ponyville in a timely manner when she arrived at the station. Down the spiraling stairs she went, earning the curious stares of a pair of royal guardsponies below. She'd have to remember to write Celestia a letter of thanks once she made it back home.

"That was a truly wonderful presentation, Scootaloo," Cheerilee told the pegasus over the ruckus of the other ponies filtering out of the classroom. "I had almost completely forgotten about Newborn Celebration Day, you know. Perhaps Ponyville grew to be too big a town to celebrate it every year?"

Scootaloo shrugged her shoulders. Outside of the Princess' curse (which she left out of her presentation, along with the Princess's Blessing; she didn't know enough about it to feel comfortable bringing the topic to light), there hadn't been too solid a reason for the holiday slowly fading into obscurity.

"At any rate, the maximum grade that I can give you for your presentation is a C," Cheerilee finished.

"Because I was late?"

"Because you were late," Cheerilee nodded. "Although if you weren't, you would have earned an A. You did a great job, and the poster was so neatly done."

"Thanks. Twilight helped me out a lot," Scootaloo explained.

"I bet you still did the lion's share of the work, though! I know Twilight wouldn't want to cheat a pony out of learning!"

"I guess I did," Scootaloo smiled weakly, stealing a peek at the clock on the wall; it was a quarter to four. "I actually should get going; she probably can't wait to hear all about how it went."

"I don't doubt it. But before you go..." Cheerilee gestured past Scootaloo's shoulder, beckoning Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle towards her. They must have been waiting for Scootaloo. "These two will be bringing you your homework for the rest of the week while you're suspended. I figured as your best friends, they wouldn't mind."

"Of course not, Miss Cheerilee!" Apple Bloom saluted.

"Great," Scootaloo rolled her eyes playfully, "Now I have to hide from you two!"

"Oh don't be like that!" Cheerilee said with a smile and a knowing hint of mock outrage.

"I'm just kidding," Scootaloo explained anyways. "It'll actually be fun to have a chance to hang out with you girls again... even if it is to do school stuff!"

The other crusaders giggled cheerfully, and Sweetie Belle motioned to her saddlebags. "We've got today's assignments in here."

"Then I'll let you three get going," Cheerilee said. "Say hi to Princess Twilight for me! See you two tomorrow, and I'll see you on Wednesday, Scootaloo!"

"Wednesday?" Scootaloo tilted her head. "Oh right, the Running of the Leaves! You still want me to come?"

"Of course I still want you to come! I suspended you from school because of what you did, not because I don't like you, you know. You're a great filly, Scootaloo. Just a little unfocused sometimes."

Scootaloo's ears folded back, and she didn't know how to respond. Her friends took her silence as their cue.

"Have a good evening, Miss Cheerilee," Sweetie Belle told her with an unorthodox hint of finality coming from the pale filly.

The crusaders exited the classroom in a wordless scramble, then left out of the front door of the schoolhouse. "So what's this about going to see Princess Twilight now?" Apple Bloom asked as they descended the steps towards Scootaloo's scooter. It wasn't knocked over this time.

"Oh yeah, to tell her about my project, and to ask her—" Scootaloo stopped in her tracks.

"Ask her about what?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Oh my gosh, girls," Scootaloo said with a clear and present shakiness to her voice. "Have you two ever heard of the Princess' Blessing?"

Twilight thought about using magic on the wheels of the train to make it go faster. It was 3:45, and they were still a few miles out from Ponyville. What if Scootaloo was already there? What if she already left? She had been counting on Twilight for this one thing, and the last thing Twilight wanted to do was disappoint her by not being there when she said she would. Goodness knows Scootaloo had dealt with enough of that for a lifetime.

Deciding against using magic to speed up the train, on account of the mechanical damage it would most likely cause, Twilight did some quick calculations. Being about three miles from Ponyville, and her library being a few blocks from the train station, she reasoned she could probably teleport the rest of the way once she got... well, not quite yet. But just a bit closer. She'd already paid for the ticket, so she was sure the train personnel wouldn't mind if she left early.

"So you'll actually find out if you're gonna be able to fly?" Sweetie Belle squeaked from the back of the wagon. "Like, for real, for real?"

"Yup!" Scootaloo shouted back as they rounded the carousel-esque Town Hall en route to Twilight's Library.

"That's great news!" Apple Bloom cried aloud, her voice catching as the wagon bounced. "Or not so great, dependin'..."

"At least I'll know," Scootaloo said. With the wind rushing past her, she wasn't sure if the Crusaders had heard her, but it was a reassurance to herself nonetheless. The large, hollowed out tree loomed ahead of the trio, and her answers hopefully waited inside. The scooter slowed down, before Scootaloo pulled to the right harshly to slide it to a stop quicker.

"Whoa, easy there!" Apple Bloom cried out loud as the wagon careened onto two wheels. "Careful, Scoots!"

But Scootaloo barely heard her as the filly leapt from her scooter and charged towards the library's door. She opened the door abruptly, the bell above sounding and alerting Spike, who jumped with a start from his seat at the table. His Power Ponies comic floated to the floor in the commotion. There were another few patrons in the library who also looked around curiously at the cause of the noise, but went back to their browsing once they saw it was just Scootaloo.

"Scootaloo!" the dragon called to the filly, currently whipping her head around in an excited frenzy. "Where's the fire?"

"Is Twilight back yet?" Scootaloo asked as the bell sounded behind her; she looked backwards and saw not Twilight, but her two disheveled friends.

"Nope. Not yet," Spike said apologetically, scooping his comic book off the floor and back onto the table.

"Oh..." Scootaloo frowned, "I thought she'd be back by now."

"Me too," Spike agreed. "I'm sure she won't be too much long-"

There was a bright purple flash, and a popping sound. In a burst of dazzling light, Twilight Sparkle appeared on the table that Spike was sitting at. The sudden displacement of air sent his comic book down to the floor once again.

"Spike!" Twilight cried out, ignoring the stares from the yet-again-disrupted visitors browsing for books. "Scootaloo? Is she—" Spike pointed behind her towards the door, and the wide eyed orange filly staring up at the princess.

"Well?" Scootaloo asked apprehensively, bracing herself for the worst.

Twilight pivoted to face the little pony. Then, she smiled.

"Have I got some news for you!"

Scootaloo & The Cabinet of Seers

by HMXTaylorLee

Fragile

The Fiddle & The Drum

Trouble

Preludes & Interludes

On A Good Day

Won't Be Broken

Nobody Does You (Better Than You)

Little By Little

Maybe I'm Right

Blue Collar Mare (Long Nights)

Make This Go On Forever

State of Love and Trust

Some Origins of Fire

Disaster Button

Working For The Weekend

Shadow on the Sun

Somewhere Only We Know

Dreaming Wide Awake

Illusion & Dream

Crystal Ball

Start The Machine

Halfway There