The Cutie Mark Crusaders

by Lunafan1k

First published

This is Ponyville, a small, quaint town full of friendly, happy ponies, and is simply the best place to raise a foal. Or is it?

This is Ponyville, a small, quaint town full of friendly, happy ponies, and is simply the best place to raise a foal. Or is it? Read to find out!

A short one shot based on a dream I had.

The CMC

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Once upon a time in the magical land of Equestria, there was a town on the edge of a forest. The forest was something that all the town’s inhabitants knew to avoid, but the town prospers regardless of the forest’s dangers.

In this town live hundreds of all the types of ponies, unicorn, pegasi, and earth ponies. The earth ponies tend the land while the pegasi see to the weather. The unicorns use their magical abilities to perform various tasks around the town, helping everypony they can.

On the edge of town, not far from the Everfree Forest, there was a farm. This farm was huge, consisting of nothing but apple trees as far as the eye can see. Living on the farm were two siblings, an earth pony brother and sister, and together they tended to the innumerable apple trees each year, providing high quality apples across the land.

A fashionista lived near the center of the town. She lived alone, but that didn’t bother her. It allowed her to focus on her beautiful dresses in peace. She sold them to the best of the nobility, her name reaching just as far as the farm’s apples.

Above the town lived a Wonderbolt Cadet. Her speed was unrivaled by even the best fliers. She spent her time not working on the weather practicing and training for her future career. She dashed and zoomed, looped and weaved, and performd very complex maneuvers each day. Once she finished a set of exercises, she was met with silence. She often took a break in one of the trees, the silence allowed her to nap without interruption.

Elsewhere in town, there stood a schoolhouse. In this schoolhouse were many little fillies and colts, some with cutie marks, some without. Their time without a cutie mark was often difficult, the pressures of finding ones destiny on top of a bully or two made adolescence intolerable at times.

Every year, there were one or two fillies or colts that haven’t found their true talents as fast as the rest of the class has. Their supposed failure and constant bullying drove them to depression. But when the pain became too much, they found three little fillies who just want to have fun together, on a quest to find their cutie marks.

The filly or colt instantly befriended them, and together they went on adventures to try and find their cutie marks. Their depression waned as each day was filled with joy, the bullies had no effect as nothing can ruin the happiness of playing with friends each day.

And so the school year would go on, the one filly or colt remaining a blank flank far longer than thought possible. Normally in other places this would be of no concern, as the foal would be considered a late bloomer and would find their talent just like the rest of them. But this town is far from normal.

Each year, on the very first day of summer vacation, that filly or colt would go out to play with his or her new friends. They would wander town looking for their friends for hours, unable to find them. Saddened by the disappearance of their friends, the foals would wander the vast farm of apple trees, never to be heard of again.

But everypony who’s lived in the town for several years knew exactly where that filly or colt went. He or she would join their friends, playing amongst the trees of Sweet Apple Acres. And then at the start of the next year, the cycle would begin anew.

Another filly or colt would find three fillies to befriend, and together they would go on grand adventures. And at the end of each year, on the first day of summer, they too would disappear within the farm of trees.

And each year the town would search, hoping the cycle would be broken, but finding everything the same as the previous year. The parents would grieve for their loss, often taking their own lives in the end. Those who lived on would try to warn others, but their warnings would fall on deaf ears, assumed to be nothing more than a story to scare fillies and colts into behaving.

But by the end of the next year, those that were warned quickly realized the truth of those warnings first hoof. Again a search would be had, again the discovery the same.

No matter how many times this process repeated, nopony dared to be the first to check the center of the farm. Near sunset of the second day, the search parties would converge in the center, most knowing all too well what awaits them.

The filly or colt that had gone missing would be found, curled up on the ground in front of a stone slab as though they were just sleeping, but the others knew better. They would only need to see the red and gold cape tied loosely around the foal’s neck as confirmation. The parents would be filled with relief, rushing forward to embrace their loved one as the others looked away, unable to bear witness to the events.

The cries of joy quickly turn to sorrow and rage, their little one unresponsive to their touch, and cold as stone in their hooves. The town’s inhabitants would walk away, eyes dry as they have seen this enough to know what had happened, many having gone through it themselves.

Then throughout the summer, the fields of trees would be filled with laughter, a brother and sister focusing on their work in an effort to ignore the pain that accompanied the giggles of four foals.

Every night that summer the siblings on the farm, the fashionista, and the Wonderbolt Cadet would return to the spot where so many fillies and colts have lost their lives, paying homage to them and the ones responsible for their deaths, begging for an end to the curse plaguing their town.

For in the center of the vast field of apple trees lay the remains of a burned down tree house. In front of the tree house was a single slab of vertical stone, with a simple reading:

‘Here lies Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, three fillies whose lives were taken too soon, their destinies taken before they were found. May you find eternal happiness, CMC.’