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Organised by
RogerDodger
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2000–8000
Marked for Exile
This time was the real deal, the bona fide, the legitimate and absolute and genuine event. There were no buckets of paint involved, not a single spell gone awry, and certainly not a long series of misleading nightmares, hallucinations, or any enigmatic brews conjured by zebras deep in the Everfree. Nope, hearts and heads were held high when she ran into her friends, tearfully unable to contain herself. Sweetie Belle had earned her cutie mark.
“Sweetie, I can’t believe it!” Scootaloo exclaimed loud enough to wake the late-sleeping denizens of Ponyville on that bright summer morning. She wasn’t kidding, either. As all three fillies would agree, it seemed as though they had been trapped in a lonely void in the world, like a boat lost out at sea, getting pummeled by wave after wave and not a single one caring about their maddening peril. Now with Sweetie Belle sporting her identity on her flank, the restless trio would be able to carry on with the fire of hope in their hearts… or so they had hoped.
“Look at it!” the unicorn squeaked, unabashedly showing off her side in uncontained excitement. Emblazoned on it was a round, sweetly pink heart that stood out from her snowy white coat like a badge of honor. Within the heart was a single, deep violet eighth note. “I can’t believe this is really happening, this is so cool!”
“That’s awesome, Sweetie Belle!” Applebloom joined in with her own praise, gawking at the mark with a permanent smile sewn on her face. “Howd’ja get it? Did it just appear overnight or what?”
Sweetie nodded her head vigorously. “I woke up with it! When I came into the kitchen for breakfast, Rarity even dropped her tea! I hadn’t noticed it until she brought me in front of a mirror.”
“Why now, though?” Scootaloo pondered, tapping her chin with a hoof. “What’s it supposed to be anyway? Music, I guess, but you can’t play the sitar. We tried that two weeks ago and broke every string.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s singing, silly,” Sweetie Belle laughed. “Remember how I joined the choir a month or so ago because Cheerilee said I should?”
“When she caught you singing in the bathroom with a roll of toilet paper as a microphone?”
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo bursted into laughter, pounding their hooves on the pavement. Scrunching up her face in embarrassment, Sweetie responded with a loud ‘hmph’ and a stern glare.
“At least it worked for me, blank flanks!”
After a brief pause in which the girls caught their breath, Scootaloo spoke up. “Don’t turn into Diamond Tiara, Sweetie Belle, there’s already one too many in Equestria.”
“I’m just teasing,” she responded with a dismissing wave of her forehoof. “But that does bring up a kind of scary topic.”
“Let’s go discuss it over a round of milkshakes to celebrate Sweetie Belle’s new cutie mark!” Applebloom hastily pointed over to the direction of the Frozen Hooves ice cream parlor, eager to get something to cool herself and her friends off in the growing summer heat that had been beating on them throughout the conversation.
“Cutie Mark Crusader Milkshake Drinkers?” Scootaloo asked jokingly, prompting a groan from both of her friends as they began walking for the parlor. “Jeez, I know it’s an old joke but c’mon.”
“That’s… actually exactly what I was worried about,” Sweetie said to nopony in particular, and as such it fell on nopony’s ears.
Inside the parlor, the young trio took a seat on their favorite booth after ordering and convincing the cashier that milkshakes are a perfectly reasonable choice before noon because they were the ones paying for them. As they waited, Applebloom and Scootaloo continued to inquire about Sweetie’s newfound mark.
“So did you, like, feel it overnight as it came? Is it like a rash?” Scootaloo asked, cocking her head slightly.
Applebloom rolled her eyes. “Even I know that cutie marks don’t hurt, featherbrain. Otherwise nopony would want ‘em.”
“I’d hurt myself for a cutie mark! In fact, I have! Many times.”
“That’s… a little creepy.”
As the two bare-flanked fillies became carried away in their conversation, Sweetie Belle propped herself up against the table and watched the livelihood of Ponyville through a large, smudged window beside her table. It was the same old town she had known since the moment she was born. The cobblestones that baked in the sun and darkened in the rain hadn’t moved an inch in her few years stepping on them, and familiar faces crossed her view in a slow, colorful stream. Each body had their own cutie mark, a symbol of who they were and all they would be, and for the first time ever Sweetie could say she was a part of that rank of ponies that had a definite direction.
But what if it wasn’t a direction that wasn’t favorable? Don’t get her wrong; Sweetie Belle loved singing, far more than taming lions and farming sea cucumbers. When melodies poured out of her mouth she truly was at peace and was, well, herself. There was such an immense satisfaction when she found her mark in the mirror that her cheeks still hurt from smiling, but now worries had set in and tainted her briefly ecstatic outlook. If she had found herself, how could she ever be a part of the Cutie Mark Crusaders anymore? She loved her friends more than she loved singing.
“And a Bananilla Blast, with extra banana,” a young mare’s voice broke into her head as a frosted glass was slid in front of the singer.
“Oh, thanks,” Sweetie replied, her voice flat and her shoulder sunk. As her friends took long draws from their straws, the unicorn couldn’t work up the appetite to try hers yet. Instead, she swirled around the frothy mixture with her straw, trying to collect her scattered thoughts.
“You all right, Sweetie Belle?” Applebloom asked, picking up on her friend’s discomfort fairly quickly. “Wrong flavor or something? Too little banana? Too much banana?”
“You can’t have too much banana,” Scootaloo interjected, taking her lips from her straw.
“No, girls, it’s just that I’ve been thinking a bit since last night,” Sweetie Belle began, closing her eyes and concentrating on melting her thoughts into coherent words. “I’m sort of nervous about what’s going to happen to the Crusaders. I mean, now that I’ve got my cutie mark, what am I going to do? Am I a part of the Crusaders still?”
Applebloom opened her mouth to respond, but stopped short and slowly exhaled her breath when she realized that the answer wasn’t as simple as it seemed. She knew everypony’s gut instinct at the table was ‘yes, of course you’re still a Crusader! CMC Forever!’ Deep inside, however, Applebloom was uncertain. They had founded the Crusaders with one goal in mind: to unite for the purpose of finding their cutie marks. In the blur of excitement and adventure that had followed, nopony had stopped for a moment to really consider what would happen when one of the triumvirate had achieved this once far-off goal. There was Babs Seed, of course, who wasn’t a Crusader the moment she got her mark. Applebloom didn’t see it as a big deal, though. After all, the two hadn’t joined together for crusades.
Sweetie Belle broke the painful silence by voicing everypony’s concerns further. “What about all the crusading? Am I allowed to be a part of that now that I’ve got my mark? What even is the point of crusading if it’s not for a cutie mark?!”
The ice cream shop grew quiet again, Sweetie’s fears having descended upon the group’s usual joviality and eclipsing it completely. Even when they should have been at their happiest, none of them could find the words: Scootaloo’s stare darted from her melting drink to Sweetie Belle, Applebloom’s face contorted into a pout of deep thought, and Sweetie herself looked numbly to her friends and, finding no real guidance, couldn’t help but tear up.
“It’s not like we’re not going to stop being friends, if that’s what you think,” Scootaloo spoke softly to lessen the tension. “Why would we? We’re BFFs.”
“But what about the adventuring? I don’t wanna be a third wheel while you two go out and do… whatever,” Sweetie Belle said with sigh. She looked out the window again, watching the sea of cutie marks roll by in individual waves. Despite the glass in between her and that sea, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was more like the rest of them than her friends now. It was no secret that their entire friendship had started in pursuit of their identities.
“You think Rarity’s gonna stop letting you play with us or something?” Applebloom asked, gently resting a forehoof on Sweetie Belle’s shoulder, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Hey, it’s not ‘playing’, it’s crusading.”
“Shut it, Scoot. It’s not like it’ll be any less fun for us now that you’re not blank anymore.”
Sweetie Belle sniffled, despite listening attentively to Applebloom’s comforting words. She was normally a rational filly, looking at things from an objective standpoint before jumping to conclusions. Yet somehow, this cutie mark which had been her dream all her life felt like it was doing nothing but concluding her fondest memories. She’d always be different now.
“I-I think I’m just gonna go, girls,” she stammered, getting out of her seat quickly and keeping her teary eyes turned from her friends, as if they couldn’t sense her crying from her voice alone.
“Wait, Sweetie! It’s really not a big deal!” Scootaloo called, finishing her sentence a moment after her unicorn friend stepped out of the cool parlor and into the beaming sunlight, catching a sob in her throat before she escaped. “...rats.”
“I dunno what’s gotten into her, Scoots. I didn’t think it was such a big deal!” Applebloom said, resting her cheek on the table and watching chunks of banana float up in Sweetie’s abandoned shake.
“Me neither, but I kinda see where she’s coming from. Kinda. It wouldn’t be fair to keep her in after we set the rule and Babs followed it, but… Oh, I dunno.” Scootaloo planted her forehead into the table as well, the cool surface chilling the film of sweat that had accumulated under the speedster’s bangs.
“Well what do we do, Scoot? We can’t leave her like that.”
“For the second time, I dunno.”
Suppertime at the Apple home was the iconic image of rural ponyville. As the dusk and night sky melted together into an amethyst purple and the stars came out of hiding, the plates were piled high in Sweet Apple Acres with enough food to fill five hardworking earth ponies (as most townsfolk would agree, Big Mac counted as two ponies). In a homely dining room that always smelled like the dinner of the day, sweet sawdust, and old carpeting, one couldn’t ever walk out without having to take wide steps to accommodate a bloated belly. For the most part, no one was ashamed of stuffing themselves at the table, for it’s said that Granny Smith is one of the best cooks in Ponyville.
All of these factors made it even more strange for the Apple family to watch their youngest simply stare into her bowl of the Granny Smith’s famous apple-cabbage stew rather than make a delicious mess as her older brother across the table was doing. She hadn’t been her bouncy self since she had gotten home around noon to help around the farm, as they had all noticed. After a bland dinner conversation that excluded the filly, Applejack took it upon herself to be the one to ask.
“What’s got you in sour spirits, sugarcube? You haven’t said barely a word since you came home from seeing your friends.”
“Sweetie Belle got her cutie mark,” Applebloom replied, her voice empty and shallow. She didn’t lift her gaze, continuing to stare at her bowl and swirl the broth.
“Why, that’s great news!” Applejack exclaimed with a grin, prompting Granny Smith and Big Mac to make muffled sounds of agreement through their supper.
“Darn right she is!” Granny said after a hearty swallow, gesturing at Applejack. “I remember when I got my cutie mark, I had to go to the doctor’s because I almost went and passed out from not shuttin’ up about it!”
“She was just the opposite,” Applebloom said, taking a deep breath as she began. “We were all excited and all to start with, but when we all sat down she said she didn’t know what would happen to her as a Crusader. Now that she has her cutie mark, is she still a member? Can she still go crusading with us even if she has no reason to? We all wanted to say yes but we remember what happened with Babs and how she just sorta left after she got her mark, so it wouldn’t really be right to keep her, would it?”
The filly slumped back down, taking another breath to replenish her lung capacity as the other members of the Apple family looked between one another, eyes wide in search of some answer to give. Family was the best counsel, after all, but everypony wasn’t quite sure how to remedy the situation in the best possible manner.
Finally, Applejack did her best to channel her inner Twilight and spoke warmly to Applebloom. “Well,” she began, reaching across the table to lift her younger sister’s chin, “I know it’s not an easy situation. I definitely don’t want y’all losing each others’ friendship over something that should be giving you cause for celebration. It ain’t like Sweetie Belle’s a different pony now or something, you know? Just maybe… well, maybe you should stick to the rules you set to be fair to everypony.”
“Are you saying to kick her out? But she’s our best friend!” Applebloom cried out dismally, looking at Applejack as though she had admitted to a crime.
“No, I ain’t saying that, Applebloom, I said you don’t need to lose each other as friends. This whole ‘Crusaders’ thing isn’t another word for ‘friends’, right? I know it made you friends, but sometimes a club’s just a club. You gotta follow the rules and all, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have the best friends of your life outside of it.”
“You mean we can’t make an exception for Sweetie?”
“It’s your little club after all, but if the whole point is to find your marks and she already has hers, then it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Besides, what would Babs think?”
Applebloom gazed into her stew again, searching for some clarification that the floating bits in the broth might provide. Applejack and Granny Smith waited tentatively, shooting a glare at Big Mac when he interrupted the silence with a noisy slurp.
“You’re right, sis,” the filly said softly after the advice settled in her gut like a bitter medicine. “I wouldn’t ever leave her, and I don’t have to. I just don’t wanna leave her out when Scoot and I go crusadin’.”
Applejack chuffed, grinning. “You don’t need a reason to hang out, you know. Me and my friends, we go adventuring all the time for whatever reason flings itself at us. It’s your friends that matter, not the goal.”
Granny Smith and Big Mac nodded in agreement, watching Applebloom for her reaction. She couldn’t help but crack a faint smile, feeling a bit silly for taking the whole situation far too seriously.
“Alright everypony, let’s eat!” she said, happy to break the awkwardness. “And thanks a ton, sis. You’re one of the smartest ponies I know.”
Applejack smiled bashfully. “You’re awfully sweet, you know.”
As the family dug into their dinner, watching the dimming sun sink into the horizon beyond the fields of apple trees, Applebloom quietly worried how she would communicate her plan to her friends.
Rarity gently laid her favorite tea tray, the one with ornate silver edges and polished mahogany wood that shined in the bright lights of the Carousel Boutique’s upper floor. Nighttime had descended upon Ponyville, Luna’s nocturnal spells bringing much-needed relief from the steaming sun. Sweetie Belle sat patiently at the kitchen table, watching Rarity pour out two cups of tea.
“Chamomile with a squeeze of bergamot orange, for my very talented sister,” Rarity said as she lowered a cup in front of the younger unicorn before taking a seat and a cup for herself. “You deserve your favorite tonight.”
“Thanks,” Sweetie said with the same somber voice she had since she had gotten home earlier. Even when Rarity had taken her to her favorite high-class restaurant and bought her those roasted button mushroom caps stuffed with herbs and cheese that she adored, Sweetie showed few emotions besides gratitude and introversion.
“Sweetie, you’ve been abnormally quiet for such a special day,” Rarity said after taking a careful sip of tea. “Do you not like your cutie mark or something?”
“It’s not that, I love it,” Sweetie replied. “I just don’t really know what to do with my friends now. You know, the whole Cutie Mark Crusaders and all. Now that I actually have my cutie mark, we can’t really decide if I’m still a Crusader or not.”
“Frankly, I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Rarity said with a warm smile. “You’re all friends, after all. Why would your mark change anything?”
“Because Applebloom’s cousin sort of ‘left’ the Crusaders when she got her mark. I don’t know if it would be fair for me to stay, but I love adventuring with my friends.”
Rarity exhaled a sharp breath through her nostrils, pursing her lips in thought. Her eyes idly scanned the room as she worked out a solution, hazily focusing on the sewing machine in the corner where she had helped manufacture the trio’s capes. Above all, the seamstress knew she wouldn’t tell her sister to leave. Not only would she never wish sadness upon her younger sibling, but she herself knew how a good friendship (or in her case, five) could change a life.
The fashionista perked up suddenly, an idea illuminating in her mind like the flickering of fireflies outside. “Why don’t you stay as a leader?”
“A leader, Rarity? What, am I going to chaperone field trips or something?”
“Nothing like that,” Rarity said while shaking her head. “Now that you have your cutie mark, what’s wrong with staying to help your two friends find theirs? You could arrange your little crusades or teach them!”
Sweetie Belle levitated her teacup to her lips, taking a gentle drink of the honey-gold tea before responding. “I don’t want to be like that bully Diamond Tiara and act all ‘I’m-better-than-you’ because I have my cutie mark, though. I’m not any better.”
“Of course you’re not better, dear, but you have a little bit more experience with cutie marks, don’t you? You know how you got yours, what it feels like, and how to find your special talent. I’m sure your friends could use a little guidance. Anything to prevent you from doing something stupid like launching yourselves off cliffs.”
“Hey, Cutie Mark Crusaders Cliff Jumpers was a great idea,” Sweetie Belle said with a pout. “Even if Scootaloo did almost dislocate her wing. Anyway, I guess I see what you’re getting at. Sort of. I don’t know how the girls will like me suddenly trying to be bossy.”
“Nopony said bossy! You don’t even have to call yourself a leader. Just use your newfound expertise to bring your little troupe to new heights! Safer ones as well, please.”
Sweetie and Rarity smiled at each other, the newly-marked filly coming to an uneasy understanding and subsequent agreement. As the sisters finished their tea and headed to bed, Sweetie Belle slept with slightly less trepidation than expected.
The sun returned from its retreat just hours ago as Scootaloo met up with Rainbow Dash on Sugarcube Lane in Ponyville. Whereas the two pegasi were normally very, very late birds to awake, Rainbow Dash had promised her beloved Tank some practice with his new propeller, and Scootaloo hadn’t slept all that well anyway and decided to try to find peace of mind in an early-morning scooter ride, before she ran the risk of collision with most of the townsponies.
“What’s the matter, squirt?” Rainbow Dash asked teasingly, bopping Scootaloo’s helmet to catch her attention.
“Huhza--whowhat? Oh, heya Dash!” Scootaloo responded, still dazed from her early waking. “What’s up?”
“Just teaching tank here how to use his new… thingy Twilight showed me,” the athlete said, pointing to a newly-installed component of Tank’s apparatus. “It’s supposed to make him be able to turn a bit quicker, but I don’t know how it works. Nor do I think Tank cares.”
Scootaloo watched the tortoise hover a few feet above her, smiling awkwardly when it rotated around to look at her.
“I did notice you moping around, though,” Rainbow Dash continued.
“Moping? I’m not moping, Rainbow Dash.”
“I know the difference between moping and being forced to wake up early, kiddo, believe me. And something’s got you down. So what’s up?”
Scootaloo sighed, taking off her helmet and shaking her mane out. “It’s something with the Crusaders, don’t worry about it.”
“Pfft, why wouldn’t I worry about it? Believe it or not, I care about you.”
“Well, Sweetie Belle got her cutie mark,” Scootaloo said with the same downcast cadence that had plagued all three Crusaders. “Now we don’t know if she should stay in the Crusaders or not.”
“Keep her in, featherbrain,” Rainbow said with a joking smile. “Sometimes you fillies have the strangest ideas. Why would you kick her out?”
“The rules of the Crusaders are that we accept only blank flanks looking to earn their cutie marks. We’d be breaking the rules if she stayed, Dash!”
“Rules schmules. Loyalty to your friends is what’s important. I’d know.”
Scootaloo looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed with conflicting emotions. “But we can’t just break rules, Dash, we’re loyal to those too. We had another Crusader in Manehattan who had to leave when she got hers.”
“Then invite her back!” Rainbow exclaimed, throwing her forelegs up and nearly knocking Tank aside. “It’s not that hard, you know. It’s not like you’re breaking the law or something. Sometimes you just need to make things work the way you want them to.”
For once, Scootaloo felt troubled about following the advice of her idol. She looked around, watching ponies water their gardens or head off to work, searching for some witty retort or alternative solution so she wouldn’t have to directly disagree with Rainbow Dash. Ultimately, she couldn’t find one so she bit her tongue, wore a fake smile, and thanked the pegasus.
“Don’t worry about it, kid,” the multicolored pegasus said with a warm smile. “Friends are always first, right?”
“I guess so.”
Scootaloo replaced her helmet and speeded off down the cobblestone street, pacing herself over the bumps and cracks in the road that she had practically memorized by now. Gears turned forcefully in her mind, trying to fabricate some answer to present to her friends when they next met.
Twilight Sparkle stepped out of her tall, crystalline palace and into the radiant sunshine that painted every surface in Ponyville. Another late night of studying had taken its toll on the lethargic alicorn, thanks to a newfound interest in Griffonic alchemy. As images and phrases of unique brewing techniques swirled in the slurry of her mind, three colorful shapes passed in front of her.
“Good mornin’, Princess Twi!” one of the blobs said, its voice high-pitched and bubbly. Before she wiped her eyes clean to refocus them, she already knew Applebloom and the other Crusaders had stopped in front of her on a walk to Celestia knows where.
“Good morning, girls, and congratulations Sweetie Belle on your cutie mark! I heard all about it from Rarity.” Twilight reached out and gently shook the unicorn filly’s hoof. “So are you off for some early morning crusading?”
The trio looked at each other, silently deciding on who should break the news.
“Funny you should mention that, Twi,” Applebloom said with a shy smile. “The Crusaders are no more.”
Twilight paused, registering what had just been said. “What do you mean they’re ‘no more’?”
“Since Sweetie got her cutie mark, we all decided to… uh, ‘disestablish’ the Crusaders. Is that the word from the dictionary, Scootaloo?”
“Yep.”
“We couldn’t decide what to do since we heard, and everypony we asked all had different answers that we couldn’t really use together. So we just decided to get rid of the whole thing.”
Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “You dismantled the CMC? All because you couldn’t decide what to do when you actually accomplished your goal?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
The alicorn’s eyelid twitched ever so slightly.
“What we did find out is that friendship matters a lot more than a bunch of rules and a fancy-pants named organization. It’s funny, actually. We placed so much importance on all those rules we made that we sorta forgot that we were in control of them.” Applebloom scratched the back of her head, looking away.
“She’s right,” Sweetie Belle said. “Once we all heard each other’s solutions, we saw that sometimes there just isn’t an easy answer and you have to think outside the box. The Cutie Mark Crusaders was never meant to be about rules, it was about friendship. It doesn’t really need a name other than that, especially since it almost got in the way of our relationships.”
Twilight sighed, happily nodding her head. “You girls definitely are wiser than your years sometimes. I was about to call your decision a little rash, but I don’t think anything will change between you, Cutie Mark Crusaders or not.”
“It was a tough choice, Twilight,” Scootaloo said. “But the fun part about crusading wasn’t trying to find our cutie marks, it was being with each others. And all the dangerous jumps we went off.”
“I’m glad you realized that. I had a similar epiphany a few years ago when I first met your sisters, you know. Speaking of which, did they help you decide this?”
In the distance, a certain squeaky pegasus voice could be heard. “Whaddaya mean my advice stinks?! That’s exactly what Twilight would’ve said!”
And in a familiar cowpony drawl: “She wouldn’t’ve said ‘rules schmules’ and you know that! Just because you do your own thing all the time doesn’t mean you should teach the fillies that!”
“I wouldn’t say so!” Applebloom said before joining the ex-Crusaders in a round of laughter.
“Sweetie, I can’t believe it!” Scootaloo exclaimed loud enough to wake the late-sleeping denizens of Ponyville on that bright summer morning. She wasn’t kidding, either. As all three fillies would agree, it seemed as though they had been trapped in a lonely void in the world, like a boat lost out at sea, getting pummeled by wave after wave and not a single one caring about their maddening peril. Now with Sweetie Belle sporting her identity on her flank, the restless trio would be able to carry on with the fire of hope in their hearts… or so they had hoped.
“Look at it!” the unicorn squeaked, unabashedly showing off her side in uncontained excitement. Emblazoned on it was a round, sweetly pink heart that stood out from her snowy white coat like a badge of honor. Within the heart was a single, deep violet eighth note. “I can’t believe this is really happening, this is so cool!”
“That’s awesome, Sweetie Belle!” Applebloom joined in with her own praise, gawking at the mark with a permanent smile sewn on her face. “Howd’ja get it? Did it just appear overnight or what?”
Sweetie nodded her head vigorously. “I woke up with it! When I came into the kitchen for breakfast, Rarity even dropped her tea! I hadn’t noticed it until she brought me in front of a mirror.”
“Why now, though?” Scootaloo pondered, tapping her chin with a hoof. “What’s it supposed to be anyway? Music, I guess, but you can’t play the sitar. We tried that two weeks ago and broke every string.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s singing, silly,” Sweetie Belle laughed. “Remember how I joined the choir a month or so ago because Cheerilee said I should?”
“When she caught you singing in the bathroom with a roll of toilet paper as a microphone?”
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo bursted into laughter, pounding their hooves on the pavement. Scrunching up her face in embarrassment, Sweetie responded with a loud ‘hmph’ and a stern glare.
“At least it worked for me, blank flanks!”
After a brief pause in which the girls caught their breath, Scootaloo spoke up. “Don’t turn into Diamond Tiara, Sweetie Belle, there’s already one too many in Equestria.”
“I’m just teasing,” she responded with a dismissing wave of her forehoof. “But that does bring up a kind of scary topic.”
“Let’s go discuss it over a round of milkshakes to celebrate Sweetie Belle’s new cutie mark!” Applebloom hastily pointed over to the direction of the Frozen Hooves ice cream parlor, eager to get something to cool herself and her friends off in the growing summer heat that had been beating on them throughout the conversation.
“Cutie Mark Crusader Milkshake Drinkers?” Scootaloo asked jokingly, prompting a groan from both of her friends as they began walking for the parlor. “Jeez, I know it’s an old joke but c’mon.”
“That’s… actually exactly what I was worried about,” Sweetie said to nopony in particular, and as such it fell on nopony’s ears.
Inside the parlor, the young trio took a seat on their favorite booth after ordering and convincing the cashier that milkshakes are a perfectly reasonable choice before noon because they were the ones paying for them. As they waited, Applebloom and Scootaloo continued to inquire about Sweetie’s newfound mark.
“So did you, like, feel it overnight as it came? Is it like a rash?” Scootaloo asked, cocking her head slightly.
Applebloom rolled her eyes. “Even I know that cutie marks don’t hurt, featherbrain. Otherwise nopony would want ‘em.”
“I’d hurt myself for a cutie mark! In fact, I have! Many times.”
“That’s… a little creepy.”
As the two bare-flanked fillies became carried away in their conversation, Sweetie Belle propped herself up against the table and watched the livelihood of Ponyville through a large, smudged window beside her table. It was the same old town she had known since the moment she was born. The cobblestones that baked in the sun and darkened in the rain hadn’t moved an inch in her few years stepping on them, and familiar faces crossed her view in a slow, colorful stream. Each body had their own cutie mark, a symbol of who they were and all they would be, and for the first time ever Sweetie could say she was a part of that rank of ponies that had a definite direction.
But what if it wasn’t a direction that wasn’t favorable? Don’t get her wrong; Sweetie Belle loved singing, far more than taming lions and farming sea cucumbers. When melodies poured out of her mouth she truly was at peace and was, well, herself. There was such an immense satisfaction when she found her mark in the mirror that her cheeks still hurt from smiling, but now worries had set in and tainted her briefly ecstatic outlook. If she had found herself, how could she ever be a part of the Cutie Mark Crusaders anymore? She loved her friends more than she loved singing.
“And a Bananilla Blast, with extra banana,” a young mare’s voice broke into her head as a frosted glass was slid in front of the singer.
“Oh, thanks,” Sweetie replied, her voice flat and her shoulder sunk. As her friends took long draws from their straws, the unicorn couldn’t work up the appetite to try hers yet. Instead, she swirled around the frothy mixture with her straw, trying to collect her scattered thoughts.
“You all right, Sweetie Belle?” Applebloom asked, picking up on her friend’s discomfort fairly quickly. “Wrong flavor or something? Too little banana? Too much banana?”
“You can’t have too much banana,” Scootaloo interjected, taking her lips from her straw.
“No, girls, it’s just that I’ve been thinking a bit since last night,” Sweetie Belle began, closing her eyes and concentrating on melting her thoughts into coherent words. “I’m sort of nervous about what’s going to happen to the Crusaders. I mean, now that I’ve got my cutie mark, what am I going to do? Am I a part of the Crusaders still?”
Applebloom opened her mouth to respond, but stopped short and slowly exhaled her breath when she realized that the answer wasn’t as simple as it seemed. She knew everypony’s gut instinct at the table was ‘yes, of course you’re still a Crusader! CMC Forever!’ Deep inside, however, Applebloom was uncertain. They had founded the Crusaders with one goal in mind: to unite for the purpose of finding their cutie marks. In the blur of excitement and adventure that had followed, nopony had stopped for a moment to really consider what would happen when one of the triumvirate had achieved this once far-off goal. There was Babs Seed, of course, who wasn’t a Crusader the moment she got her mark. Applebloom didn’t see it as a big deal, though. After all, the two hadn’t joined together for crusades.
Sweetie Belle broke the painful silence by voicing everypony’s concerns further. “What about all the crusading? Am I allowed to be a part of that now that I’ve got my mark? What even is the point of crusading if it’s not for a cutie mark?!”
The ice cream shop grew quiet again, Sweetie’s fears having descended upon the group’s usual joviality and eclipsing it completely. Even when they should have been at their happiest, none of them could find the words: Scootaloo’s stare darted from her melting drink to Sweetie Belle, Applebloom’s face contorted into a pout of deep thought, and Sweetie herself looked numbly to her friends and, finding no real guidance, couldn’t help but tear up.
“It’s not like we’re not going to stop being friends, if that’s what you think,” Scootaloo spoke softly to lessen the tension. “Why would we? We’re BFFs.”
“But what about the adventuring? I don’t wanna be a third wheel while you two go out and do… whatever,” Sweetie Belle said with sigh. She looked out the window again, watching the sea of cutie marks roll by in individual waves. Despite the glass in between her and that sea, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was more like the rest of them than her friends now. It was no secret that their entire friendship had started in pursuit of their identities.
“You think Rarity’s gonna stop letting you play with us or something?” Applebloom asked, gently resting a forehoof on Sweetie Belle’s shoulder, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Hey, it’s not ‘playing’, it’s crusading.”
“Shut it, Scoot. It’s not like it’ll be any less fun for us now that you’re not blank anymore.”
Sweetie Belle sniffled, despite listening attentively to Applebloom’s comforting words. She was normally a rational filly, looking at things from an objective standpoint before jumping to conclusions. Yet somehow, this cutie mark which had been her dream all her life felt like it was doing nothing but concluding her fondest memories. She’d always be different now.
“I-I think I’m just gonna go, girls,” she stammered, getting out of her seat quickly and keeping her teary eyes turned from her friends, as if they couldn’t sense her crying from her voice alone.
“Wait, Sweetie! It’s really not a big deal!” Scootaloo called, finishing her sentence a moment after her unicorn friend stepped out of the cool parlor and into the beaming sunlight, catching a sob in her throat before she escaped. “...rats.”
“I dunno what’s gotten into her, Scoots. I didn’t think it was such a big deal!” Applebloom said, resting her cheek on the table and watching chunks of banana float up in Sweetie’s abandoned shake.
“Me neither, but I kinda see where she’s coming from. Kinda. It wouldn’t be fair to keep her in after we set the rule and Babs followed it, but… Oh, I dunno.” Scootaloo planted her forehead into the table as well, the cool surface chilling the film of sweat that had accumulated under the speedster’s bangs.
“Well what do we do, Scoot? We can’t leave her like that.”
“For the second time, I dunno.”
Suppertime at the Apple home was the iconic image of rural ponyville. As the dusk and night sky melted together into an amethyst purple and the stars came out of hiding, the plates were piled high in Sweet Apple Acres with enough food to fill five hardworking earth ponies (as most townsfolk would agree, Big Mac counted as two ponies). In a homely dining room that always smelled like the dinner of the day, sweet sawdust, and old carpeting, one couldn’t ever walk out without having to take wide steps to accommodate a bloated belly. For the most part, no one was ashamed of stuffing themselves at the table, for it’s said that Granny Smith is one of the best cooks in Ponyville.
All of these factors made it even more strange for the Apple family to watch their youngest simply stare into her bowl of the Granny Smith’s famous apple-cabbage stew rather than make a delicious mess as her older brother across the table was doing. She hadn’t been her bouncy self since she had gotten home around noon to help around the farm, as they had all noticed. After a bland dinner conversation that excluded the filly, Applejack took it upon herself to be the one to ask.
“What’s got you in sour spirits, sugarcube? You haven’t said barely a word since you came home from seeing your friends.”
“Sweetie Belle got her cutie mark,” Applebloom replied, her voice empty and shallow. She didn’t lift her gaze, continuing to stare at her bowl and swirl the broth.
“Why, that’s great news!” Applejack exclaimed with a grin, prompting Granny Smith and Big Mac to make muffled sounds of agreement through their supper.
“Darn right she is!” Granny said after a hearty swallow, gesturing at Applejack. “I remember when I got my cutie mark, I had to go to the doctor’s because I almost went and passed out from not shuttin’ up about it!”
“She was just the opposite,” Applebloom said, taking a deep breath as she began. “We were all excited and all to start with, but when we all sat down she said she didn’t know what would happen to her as a Crusader. Now that she has her cutie mark, is she still a member? Can she still go crusading with us even if she has no reason to? We all wanted to say yes but we remember what happened with Babs and how she just sorta left after she got her mark, so it wouldn’t really be right to keep her, would it?”
The filly slumped back down, taking another breath to replenish her lung capacity as the other members of the Apple family looked between one another, eyes wide in search of some answer to give. Family was the best counsel, after all, but everypony wasn’t quite sure how to remedy the situation in the best possible manner.
Finally, Applejack did her best to channel her inner Twilight and spoke warmly to Applebloom. “Well,” she began, reaching across the table to lift her younger sister’s chin, “I know it’s not an easy situation. I definitely don’t want y’all losing each others’ friendship over something that should be giving you cause for celebration. It ain’t like Sweetie Belle’s a different pony now or something, you know? Just maybe… well, maybe you should stick to the rules you set to be fair to everypony.”
“Are you saying to kick her out? But she’s our best friend!” Applebloom cried out dismally, looking at Applejack as though she had admitted to a crime.
“No, I ain’t saying that, Applebloom, I said you don’t need to lose each other as friends. This whole ‘Crusaders’ thing isn’t another word for ‘friends’, right? I know it made you friends, but sometimes a club’s just a club. You gotta follow the rules and all, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have the best friends of your life outside of it.”
“You mean we can’t make an exception for Sweetie?”
“It’s your little club after all, but if the whole point is to find your marks and she already has hers, then it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Besides, what would Babs think?”
Applebloom gazed into her stew again, searching for some clarification that the floating bits in the broth might provide. Applejack and Granny Smith waited tentatively, shooting a glare at Big Mac when he interrupted the silence with a noisy slurp.
“You’re right, sis,” the filly said softly after the advice settled in her gut like a bitter medicine. “I wouldn’t ever leave her, and I don’t have to. I just don’t wanna leave her out when Scoot and I go crusadin’.”
Applejack chuffed, grinning. “You don’t need a reason to hang out, you know. Me and my friends, we go adventuring all the time for whatever reason flings itself at us. It’s your friends that matter, not the goal.”
Granny Smith and Big Mac nodded in agreement, watching Applebloom for her reaction. She couldn’t help but crack a faint smile, feeling a bit silly for taking the whole situation far too seriously.
“Alright everypony, let’s eat!” she said, happy to break the awkwardness. “And thanks a ton, sis. You’re one of the smartest ponies I know.”
Applejack smiled bashfully. “You’re awfully sweet, you know.”
As the family dug into their dinner, watching the dimming sun sink into the horizon beyond the fields of apple trees, Applebloom quietly worried how she would communicate her plan to her friends.
Rarity gently laid her favorite tea tray, the one with ornate silver edges and polished mahogany wood that shined in the bright lights of the Carousel Boutique’s upper floor. Nighttime had descended upon Ponyville, Luna’s nocturnal spells bringing much-needed relief from the steaming sun. Sweetie Belle sat patiently at the kitchen table, watching Rarity pour out two cups of tea.
“Chamomile with a squeeze of bergamot orange, for my very talented sister,” Rarity said as she lowered a cup in front of the younger unicorn before taking a seat and a cup for herself. “You deserve your favorite tonight.”
“Thanks,” Sweetie said with the same somber voice she had since she had gotten home earlier. Even when Rarity had taken her to her favorite high-class restaurant and bought her those roasted button mushroom caps stuffed with herbs and cheese that she adored, Sweetie showed few emotions besides gratitude and introversion.
“Sweetie, you’ve been abnormally quiet for such a special day,” Rarity said after taking a careful sip of tea. “Do you not like your cutie mark or something?”
“It’s not that, I love it,” Sweetie replied. “I just don’t really know what to do with my friends now. You know, the whole Cutie Mark Crusaders and all. Now that I actually have my cutie mark, we can’t really decide if I’m still a Crusader or not.”
“Frankly, I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Rarity said with a warm smile. “You’re all friends, after all. Why would your mark change anything?”
“Because Applebloom’s cousin sort of ‘left’ the Crusaders when she got her mark. I don’t know if it would be fair for me to stay, but I love adventuring with my friends.”
Rarity exhaled a sharp breath through her nostrils, pursing her lips in thought. Her eyes idly scanned the room as she worked out a solution, hazily focusing on the sewing machine in the corner where she had helped manufacture the trio’s capes. Above all, the seamstress knew she wouldn’t tell her sister to leave. Not only would she never wish sadness upon her younger sibling, but she herself knew how a good friendship (or in her case, five) could change a life.
The fashionista perked up suddenly, an idea illuminating in her mind like the flickering of fireflies outside. “Why don’t you stay as a leader?”
“A leader, Rarity? What, am I going to chaperone field trips or something?”
“Nothing like that,” Rarity said while shaking her head. “Now that you have your cutie mark, what’s wrong with staying to help your two friends find theirs? You could arrange your little crusades or teach them!”
Sweetie Belle levitated her teacup to her lips, taking a gentle drink of the honey-gold tea before responding. “I don’t want to be like that bully Diamond Tiara and act all ‘I’m-better-than-you’ because I have my cutie mark, though. I’m not any better.”
“Of course you’re not better, dear, but you have a little bit more experience with cutie marks, don’t you? You know how you got yours, what it feels like, and how to find your special talent. I’m sure your friends could use a little guidance. Anything to prevent you from doing something stupid like launching yourselves off cliffs.”
“Hey, Cutie Mark Crusaders Cliff Jumpers was a great idea,” Sweetie Belle said with a pout. “Even if Scootaloo did almost dislocate her wing. Anyway, I guess I see what you’re getting at. Sort of. I don’t know how the girls will like me suddenly trying to be bossy.”
“Nopony said bossy! You don’t even have to call yourself a leader. Just use your newfound expertise to bring your little troupe to new heights! Safer ones as well, please.”
Sweetie and Rarity smiled at each other, the newly-marked filly coming to an uneasy understanding and subsequent agreement. As the sisters finished their tea and headed to bed, Sweetie Belle slept with slightly less trepidation than expected.
The sun returned from its retreat just hours ago as Scootaloo met up with Rainbow Dash on Sugarcube Lane in Ponyville. Whereas the two pegasi were normally very, very late birds to awake, Rainbow Dash had promised her beloved Tank some practice with his new propeller, and Scootaloo hadn’t slept all that well anyway and decided to try to find peace of mind in an early-morning scooter ride, before she ran the risk of collision with most of the townsponies.
“What’s the matter, squirt?” Rainbow Dash asked teasingly, bopping Scootaloo’s helmet to catch her attention.
“Huhza--whowhat? Oh, heya Dash!” Scootaloo responded, still dazed from her early waking. “What’s up?”
“Just teaching tank here how to use his new… thingy Twilight showed me,” the athlete said, pointing to a newly-installed component of Tank’s apparatus. “It’s supposed to make him be able to turn a bit quicker, but I don’t know how it works. Nor do I think Tank cares.”
Scootaloo watched the tortoise hover a few feet above her, smiling awkwardly when it rotated around to look at her.
“I did notice you moping around, though,” Rainbow Dash continued.
“Moping? I’m not moping, Rainbow Dash.”
“I know the difference between moping and being forced to wake up early, kiddo, believe me. And something’s got you down. So what’s up?”
Scootaloo sighed, taking off her helmet and shaking her mane out. “It’s something with the Crusaders, don’t worry about it.”
“Pfft, why wouldn’t I worry about it? Believe it or not, I care about you.”
“Well, Sweetie Belle got her cutie mark,” Scootaloo said with the same downcast cadence that had plagued all three Crusaders. “Now we don’t know if she should stay in the Crusaders or not.”
“Keep her in, featherbrain,” Rainbow said with a joking smile. “Sometimes you fillies have the strangest ideas. Why would you kick her out?”
“The rules of the Crusaders are that we accept only blank flanks looking to earn their cutie marks. We’d be breaking the rules if she stayed, Dash!”
“Rules schmules. Loyalty to your friends is what’s important. I’d know.”
Scootaloo looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed with conflicting emotions. “But we can’t just break rules, Dash, we’re loyal to those too. We had another Crusader in Manehattan who had to leave when she got hers.”
“Then invite her back!” Rainbow exclaimed, throwing her forelegs up and nearly knocking Tank aside. “It’s not that hard, you know. It’s not like you’re breaking the law or something. Sometimes you just need to make things work the way you want them to.”
For once, Scootaloo felt troubled about following the advice of her idol. She looked around, watching ponies water their gardens or head off to work, searching for some witty retort or alternative solution so she wouldn’t have to directly disagree with Rainbow Dash. Ultimately, she couldn’t find one so she bit her tongue, wore a fake smile, and thanked the pegasus.
“Don’t worry about it, kid,” the multicolored pegasus said with a warm smile. “Friends are always first, right?”
“I guess so.”
Scootaloo replaced her helmet and speeded off down the cobblestone street, pacing herself over the bumps and cracks in the road that she had practically memorized by now. Gears turned forcefully in her mind, trying to fabricate some answer to present to her friends when they next met.
Twilight Sparkle stepped out of her tall, crystalline palace and into the radiant sunshine that painted every surface in Ponyville. Another late night of studying had taken its toll on the lethargic alicorn, thanks to a newfound interest in Griffonic alchemy. As images and phrases of unique brewing techniques swirled in the slurry of her mind, three colorful shapes passed in front of her.
“Good mornin’, Princess Twi!” one of the blobs said, its voice high-pitched and bubbly. Before she wiped her eyes clean to refocus them, she already knew Applebloom and the other Crusaders had stopped in front of her on a walk to Celestia knows where.
“Good morning, girls, and congratulations Sweetie Belle on your cutie mark! I heard all about it from Rarity.” Twilight reached out and gently shook the unicorn filly’s hoof. “So are you off for some early morning crusading?”
The trio looked at each other, silently deciding on who should break the news.
“Funny you should mention that, Twi,” Applebloom said with a shy smile. “The Crusaders are no more.”
Twilight paused, registering what had just been said. “What do you mean they’re ‘no more’?”
“Since Sweetie got her cutie mark, we all decided to… uh, ‘disestablish’ the Crusaders. Is that the word from the dictionary, Scootaloo?”
“Yep.”
“We couldn’t decide what to do since we heard, and everypony we asked all had different answers that we couldn’t really use together. So we just decided to get rid of the whole thing.”
Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “You dismantled the CMC? All because you couldn’t decide what to do when you actually accomplished your goal?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
The alicorn’s eyelid twitched ever so slightly.
“What we did find out is that friendship matters a lot more than a bunch of rules and a fancy-pants named organization. It’s funny, actually. We placed so much importance on all those rules we made that we sorta forgot that we were in control of them.” Applebloom scratched the back of her head, looking away.
“She’s right,” Sweetie Belle said. “Once we all heard each other’s solutions, we saw that sometimes there just isn’t an easy answer and you have to think outside the box. The Cutie Mark Crusaders was never meant to be about rules, it was about friendship. It doesn’t really need a name other than that, especially since it almost got in the way of our relationships.”
Twilight sighed, happily nodding her head. “You girls definitely are wiser than your years sometimes. I was about to call your decision a little rash, but I don’t think anything will change between you, Cutie Mark Crusaders or not.”
“It was a tough choice, Twilight,” Scootaloo said. “But the fun part about crusading wasn’t trying to find our cutie marks, it was being with each others. And all the dangerous jumps we went off.”
“I’m glad you realized that. I had a similar epiphany a few years ago when I first met your sisters, you know. Speaking of which, did they help you decide this?”
In the distance, a certain squeaky pegasus voice could be heard. “Whaddaya mean my advice stinks?! That’s exactly what Twilight would’ve said!”
And in a familiar cowpony drawl: “She wouldn’t’ve said ‘rules schmules’ and you know that! Just because you do your own thing all the time doesn’t mean you should teach the fillies that!”
“I wouldn’t say so!” Applebloom said before joining the ex-Crusaders in a round of laughter.