A cloud to lay on, a beautiful sunset painting mountains and sky a dazzling shade of orange, and Rainbow Dash beside her. Though she was but eleven years young, Scootaloo doubted there would ever be another moment that could possibly top this one. The only thing that could possibly beat this moment would be for her and Rainbow Dash to soar across the sky, performing awe-inspiring stunts, and taking down a plethora of raging dragons by themselves. Now, that,she thought, would be awesome!
Up in the sky, the air was chilly and the breeze, strong. Once or twice, Scootaloo found herself shivering, but she kept it as subdued as possible—there was nothing cool about getting cold; she was apegasus for heaven's sake. Pegasi only got cold in the darkest corners of space, and even then it was only the hairs on their forelegs standing up. No, she wasn't cold. The shivers were probably just nerves. No matter how often she hung out with Rainbow Dash the butterflies never went away.
She looked up at Rainbow and found herself unable to fight a grin. It hadn't stopped being awesome; she doubted that it ever would. With a blissful sigh, she lay her chin upon her crossed forelegs and watched a flock of birds fly by—drops of black paint against a most alluring canvas. Scootaloo briefly wondered if she should attempt getting a painting cutie mark. Sure, her mouth-eye coordination was about as good as a rock's, but she had never attempted to earn a painting cutie mark. Her father was a sculptor, and she seemed to have adopted everything else from him, so, while there was nothing 'cool,' 'awesome,' or 'radical' about living out the rest of her days drawing flowers floating in a pond, there was still a chance that that could be her destiny. Were artistic skills genetic?
She looked to the side, expecting to find the answers drawn across the sky. Instead, she caught a glimpse of Rainbow Dash glancing at her through what she could only call 'tired' eyes. The look only lasted a split-second, but it was long enough for Scootaloo. Her interests were piqued and the silence was getting old.
"So," Scootaloo began, "that was some race, huh?"
Rainbow chuckled, looking off to the side. "Yeah, it was."
Scootaloo nodded and sighed, running her hoof through the cloud top, sending tiny plumes floating off into the sunset. "I swear, Rainbow," she said. "Today might just—no, is the best day ever." She giggled and her wings fluttered, a sound like a buzzing bee filling the air. Rainbow's lips curved upward, but only slightly, and her teeth remained hidden from view.
"I guess you could say that," she mumbled.
A wave of cold fear washed over Scootaloo. Was Rainbow not having a good time? Was she little more than a burden to Rainbow? She told herself that that couldn't be, but the voice persisted. You're annoying her. She hates you. She's gonna abandon you. Just like Mom. Just like everypony. It took a herculean effort to force a clenched smile, and she wiped her damp mane out of her eyes, trying to play it cool as she dabbed up the beads of sweat with her foreleg. When she spoke again, her voice shook like a china cabinet in an earthquake.
"What'cha mean?" She aimed her gaze to match Rainbow's. It was clear that something was distracting Dash—she hoped it wasn't her—and that 'something' was located right in the heart of Ponyville.
Like a tumbling boulder, it hit her.
"Oh..." She let the word ring out, and Rainbow's eyes only jittered more. An impish smile spread across Scootaloo's lips. Oh, this is too rich...
Scootaloo tried her best to keep her composure, but by the time she spoke again, she couldn't hold off the giggles. "Something bothering you?" She lightly punched Dash's side. Rainbow kept staring and inched away from Scootaloo ever so slightly. For most ponies, this would be a sign to keep quiet. For Scootaloo, it was a sign to egg on. "Yeah, you've definitely got something on your mind." Her smile only widened as Dash's wings fidgeted.
Rainbow blinked. "I... Scoots, what the hay are you goin' on about?"
"You know what I'm talking about."
"No..." Rainbow rubbed the back of her head with a wing. "No, I really don't."
Scootaloo sighed. She went over the possible approaches. She settled on 'blunt.' "What's going on with you and Twilight?"
Rainbow recoiled, a sneer growing on her face. "Now just where'd... you... get... oh..." She groaned and placed her hooves against her face, muttering, "This is perfect. Just perfect."
Scootaloo found herself at a crossroads: let the whole thing slide or prod Dash until the answers fell out? Maybe in the past, she'd have chosen the former, but she'd grown comfortable around Rainbow—too comfortable, maybe—and she went for the latter.
"What's the matter, Dash? Cat got your tongue?" Scootaloo smirked. "Or is it a certain librarian—"
"Shut it, Scoots!" Rainbow said, pushing Scootaloo, nearly rolling her onto her back. For a second, it seemed like Rainbow was about ready to sock her right in the face—what with her glare and snarl—but Dash'd always had a weak facade, and the growls quickly devolved into cackles.
"Oh, man," she said. "You should have seen the look on your face."
"What look?" Scootaloo asked. "That look of me being totally not scared?"
"Whatever." Rainbow wiped her eyes. "Oh man, you looked—I'm surprised you didn't, like, wet yourself."
"At least I'm not the one who gets all freaked out when somebody mentions their 'top-secret' marefriend," Scootaloo mumbled.
Dash laughter stopped on a dime, her face seeming to turn to stone. "What'd you say?"
"You heard me." Scootaloo felt as though she were treading over a minefield, but she pressed forward. "Just spit it out, Rainbow. You and Twilight are totally doing it, and I interrupted you guys right before you could get started with your... 'reading session?' Is that what you guys call it? Not a bad decoy, Dash. Not bad at all."
Rainbow just continued to stare, her mouth hanging open.
"Still, though. Twilight?" Scootaloo shook her head, giving a single chuckle. "Gotta admit, I didn't see this coming. The bird and the bookworm—" She was cut off by a shaky hoof over her mouth. Her blood ran cold, and she looked up, expecting to see Dash's eyes narrowed or lips quivering—hurt because of her actions alone. It'd be fitting. What haven't I ruined lately?
What Scootaloo saw was much more shocking. Rainbow was in tears, and her wing covered her mouth. Behind it all, Scootaloo could hear giggles. "You... Wow!" Rainbow said between gasps for air. "You actually think me and Twilight... Bwahhaha!" She fell backward. "Scoots, you gotta stop this. I'm about to have a heart attack here. Oh, Celestia I can't breathe, heeheeheh."
Scootaloo simply glowered and waited for Dash's spell to pass. Her tapping hoof had worn a hole in the top of the cloud by the time Rainbow caught her breath. With a sigh, Rainbow ruffled Scootaloo's mane and gave a small smile.
"Sorry, squirt, but... Me? And—hehheh—and Twilight? Don't get me wrong, she's cool and all, but—"
"I'm not an idiot," Scootaloo groused. "I saw the way she looked at you. Kids in my class aren't that obvious! And don't get me started on how you looked, like, five seconds ago."
"Look, I..." She groaned. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to explain this—boring as Tuesday—but... looks like you ain't gonna let this go, so..." She looked to her right and left, scanned the sky above her and peered underneath the cloud. "Alright, you've gotta Pinkie promise not to tell anypony about any of this, okay?"
"Why? If there's noth—"
"Just do it, Scoots!"
"Alright, alright..." Scootaloo waved a foreleg in the air as she said, "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye." She sighed. "There. Ya happy?"
"Sure. So, I take it you want the short version of this?"
"Yeah."
"Okay..." Rainbow took a deep breath before she began, "As you noticed, Twi's crushing on me. Has been for... a month now? Maybe longer, I dunno. All I know is that about a month ago, she started crushing. Like, not even subtly. I'm talkin' stumbling over her own words and hooves when I'm around, always wanting me to come over and read with her, and blushing so much I can feel it." She sighed. "The worst part is that she's playing me for a fool. Hasn't said a word about it, but... I can tell. I know her. She's just calculating, waiting for the right time—or at least her legs to stop shaking and tongue to come untied long enough—to tell me. Ask me out. All that fun stuff."
Scootaloo opened her mouth to speak, but Rainbow cut her off. "And I hope she doesn't bring it up, 'cause..." She rubbed her forehead with a hoof. "I really don't wanna hurt her."
"So, I take it you're not into mares, then?"
"Not into relationships, period," Dash said. "I've been in a relationship before, and the only thing it got me was pain and problems. Twi's nice, but..." She sighed again. "I'm just going with it. She asks me to read with her, and I read. She asks me to have lunch with her, and I come over. She asks me to just spend the night with her, and I'll sit out with her and stargaze until she falls asleep. And if she wants somepony to talk to, I'll listen. I know it's all just her trying to build up the courage to ask me out, or at least just so she can be around me, but... well, she's nice to hang out with, once you get past the lectures and science and lack of a funny bone. Still, I'm hoping she stays a coward. If she ever asks, I'll have to give her an answer; that, of course, will be 'no.' And if—no, when I do, she might not wanna hang with me anymore, and... well, that's something I really don't want. I must be boring the feathers off ya right now, huh?"
"Kinda," Scootaloo muttered. She had to admit that Dash pouring her soul out made her more than a little bit uncomfortable, but it'd be a jerk move to complain. She couldn't count how many times she had bored Dash with long ramblings about anything and everything. It was only fair that Rainbow Dash got her turn on the soapbox from time to time.
Rainbow laughed and lightly hit Scootaloo's side. "Yeah, well, deal with it. Heh. Bored myself a little bit there. How 'bout we inject something cool into all this crap?"
"Cool is good," Scootaloo said. "What'd you have in mind?"
"You ever seen the old castle?"
"What's that?"
"Perfect." Rainbow chuckled and stood up. She stretched and gave her wings a few practice flaps before leaning down and saying, "Hop on."
"Huh?"
"You said you wanted to do something 'cool,' didn't ya?"
"Well, yeah, but..." Scootaloo rubbed the back of her neck. "'Old castle?' Doesn't exactly sound like 'cool' to me. More like, 'lame.'"
"Just hop on," Rainbow said. "Trust me. Once you see this place, you'll be eating those words. This place is sweet."
"Well..." It was either go with Rainbow or go back home. In the end, she wondered why she even had to debate it. "Sure, why not?" She climbed onto Dash's back, laying down and pressing her hooves against Rainbow's side. Rainbow's coat smelled of an evening summer rain and Scootaloo could feel the muscles in her back flex as her wings began to move. Scootaloo hoped that, one day, she could be this strong—this awesome. With a sigh, she turned her head, resting her cheek on Rainbow's back. She watched the world turn sideways as Rainbow took flight, and was awestruck as clouds came into her field of vision and scurried off like frightened mice. An incessant breeze hit her face, causing her mane to slap against her like dozens of little whips, but she didn't mind the pain. She was in the air, with Rainbow Dash. If the world chose to turn off the lights at this very moment, she would be satisfied.
"Hanging in there, squirt?"
"Yeah," Scootaloo replied. As Rainbow continued to soar, Scootaloo felt herself drifting off—the clouds and breeze were the best lullabies. "Wake me when we get there."
Rainbow simply laughed. It was such a beautiful noise.
The last thing she saw as her eyelids began to droop was a large black cloud floating into her vision. A bright flash of lightning filled her vision, and...
"Scoot!" came a familiar, accented voice. The shout was followed by an object colliding with the side of Scootaloo's head. She blinked a few times, focusing her vision and mind, and found herself staring out the salt-covered and scratched window of a ship.
Wait... ship?! What the...
At first, she thought she was hallucinating. However, a sniff of the air only brought the sent of salt and seasickness to her nostrils. She glanced down, out the window, and nearly gasped. Below her lay a weathered deck. Several dirty ponies walked around on the planks and scooped up ropes and whatnot in their teeth while considerably cleaner ponies looked on with what could only be disgust. The world lurched to the side, and she was just barely able to catch a glimpse of wakes drifting into the side of the massive hull. She shook her head, rubbed her eyes, and looked up again, focusing on their destination—whatever it was. Squinting, she could make out the cramped silhouettes of hundreds upon thousands of trees on what she could only guess was part of... Vanhoover Island?
Yes, it had to be Vanhoover Island. That's where everything was telling her to go. Where she had been going before...
How did I get here?
"Are you even listenin' ta me?" Apple Bloom asked, her voice shaking like a spring in an earthquake.
"No, not really," she said with a shrug. "What were we talking about?"
"That's the thing. I've been tryin' ta talk to ya for the last hour, and you ain't said anything. Just been staring off into space like some kinda zombie."
"No, I've..." The words drifted with Scootaloo's glassy eyes—off into the distance. There were storm clouds far to the right of the edge of the island. She could only see the tops of the billowing, dark gray clouds. Still, in spite of them being way away, they made her wings twitch. She could see faint flashes and smell the distinctive scent of rain. Looking back towards the island, she could make out rocks and fallen tree trunks littering the cost, and ponies waddling amongst them. They weren't far away, and for that she was thankful, but still... the sooner they got there, the better.
"Danggit, Scoots, pay attention!" Apple Bloom roared, slamming her hoof against a table top to the point of cracking it and reeling in Scootaloo's attention—along with the shocked or incensed stares of many of the fellow patrons. It was as the salt shakers began to rattle under Apple Bloom's ire that Scootaloo realized she was in a dining room of some sorts. Had she eaten yet? Some hay fries sounded pretty good about now. She looked at the table, noticed that there were no crumbs to be found, and then looked up at Apple Bloom. She opened her mouth to speak, but it simply swung on its hinges as she took in her friends' states.
Apple Bloom glared at her, leaning forward on the table, its plastic top sounding off like a hundred firecrackers under her weight. Her mane was disheveled, as though she had just returned from a year-long trek through a plain of tornados. Scootaloo could have sworn it was combed and neat as could be before they'd left Rainbow's shop that morning. Her bow had been tied immaculately, most likely due to Rainbow's surprising skill and unrelenting insistence. Now, it was but a long strand of pink ribbon draped over her neck. Scootaloo was shocked to find her face covered with dirt and scratches—some of them still dripping blood.
Whereas Apple Bloom bore the look of a vengeful mare, Sweetie Belle resembled a little filly that had just seen a ghost. Her eyes were wide, but glazed: aimed at her hooves. Her mane was a mess as well, but hers had a little extra when it came to its filthy stat. Remnants of oranges littered her loose curls—pulp, skin and all. Normally, such a sight would incite a giggle fit; now, it only caused the pit in Scootaloo's stomach to grow more and more hollow. The questions that taunted her were simple questions with simple answers. Who? What? When? Where? Why? And the thing that terrified her was that she didn't have the slightest clue what the answers could be.
She was losing focus. She was losing memories. She was losing her mind.
"Uh... hehheh" Scootaloo gave a toothy grin. "What'd I miss?"
"Well, let's see," Apple Bloom said, shaking her head before setting her fiery eyes back on her. "Ya came upstairs and grabbed your saddlebag and walked outta the shop without even tellin' us. We thought ya were tryin' ta run off, but... no. Ya were simply shufflin' on like some kinda robot or somethin'. Ya didn't flinch when I tackled ya—" At the mention of 'tackle,' Scootaloo felt a stinging jolt course through her forelegs and belly. She looked down and cringed as she saw dirty, bloody scratches covering her body as well. "—and ya didn't change expression at all when I asked—well, yelled—'What's your dang problem?' Ya just stared off like this..." She paused and stared at the table, mouth hanging open, a strand of drool rolling down her chin and landing on the white counter. Scootaloo could only guess it was accurate. "...and then ya kept walking. All the way to the dang harbor."
"Huh," Scootaloo muttered. "I don't remember any of that." She shook her head. "Jeez... what... did..." The words fell away with her stomach. This couldn't be. It just couldn't. She wanted to scream, to cry, to fall down and beg and plead for answers. A groan escaped her throat as she rubbed an eye with her hoof. "Okay, so I was out of it. That doesn't explain how we got here. Or why you two..." At that moment, she caught her reflection in the glass. Dark rings surrounded her bloodshot eyes. Cuts lined her cheeks, and as she leaned down to check a bump on her forehead, she noticed a bald spot near the front of her mane. "Okay, doesn't explain why the three
"I was gettin' to that." Apple Bloom took a deep breath before continuing, "In case ya didn't know, we're not exactly rolling in bits, and we didn't have enough to buy tickets to go to this island you're so adamant 'bout gettin' to for whatever reason."
"The temple," Scootaloo said, voice just above a whisper.
"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, instead of doing the smart thing and just walkin' away and forgettin' all this crap, you decided that we should sneak aboard."
"Did I tell you to or—"
"Oh, I clearly remember you remarkin' about oranges 'suiting my face.'"
"Wait. Oranges. What about oranges?"
Apple Bloom sighed, muttering something under her breath before speaking again. "We stowed away in a crate of oranges. Ya thought that it would be a 'quick and easy' way to get in, so we climbed in, and proceeded ta get nailed in the dang box!" She ducked down in her seat, seemingly surprised by her own volume, and looked around sheepishly, muttering a quick "sorry." She looked back to Scootaloo. "So, yeah, we got nailed in a box of oranges, Sweetie started freaking out, I started kicking you, you started kicking me—I got more good hits in, if I do say so myself—and overall, it was hell. A cramped, citrus-y hell. You're lucky these legs were built for apple buckin', or you'd probably drowned in pulp."
"So, we pretty much broke into this boat?"
"Yeah."
"How'd we get up here?"
"Very carefully," Apple Bloom remarked as she dropped down from her seat. "Luckily, they can't really throw ya off a boat for not having a ticket. Ya know, drowning and all that. Anyways, I'm going to the big fillies' room." And with that, she was off, leaving Scootaloo to sit in a stew of her own confusion.
C'mon, think... you gotta remember something! Think. Think!
Alas, it was like trying to remember her own birth. There was a loud thump as her chin fell against the table. Her cut chin screamed out in protest. She tried to blow a loose bang out of her eyes a few times, but her mane was damp and she was forced to shove it away with a hoof. Pushing the errant strands was no easy task—this did her simmering frustrations no favors. After three increasingly rougher swipes, a few bits stayed stuck to her forehead, poking at her eye like imps. With a grunt, she smacked at them once more. A yelp filled the air not soon after. As she rubbed her sorer than ever head, she heard a single high-pitched squeak. She glared daggers. Sweetie Belle covered her mouth before glancing out the window.
Unfortunately for her, Scootaloo had seen the whole thing.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
Sweetie Belle didn't answer, or even look her way.
"Not going to answer?"
Sweetie remained silent.
"I don't like ponies laughing at me."
"Scootaloo, I wasn't laughing at you... I was just... never mind."
Scootaloo wasn't satisfied. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying to you, Scoots!" Sweetie Belle's voice shook, and for a brief moment, Scootaloo thought she saw anger in her eyes. "Stop accusing me of... everything! Jeez." With a huff, Sweetie Belle turned her attention back out the window.
"Fine, be a bitch." Scootaloo wanted to punch herself in the nose as soon as the words left her mouth. Sweetie Belle didn't respond at first, but her gaze briefly darted to Scootaloo, and they were filled with nothing but pain.
"Sweetie, I... I am so sorry. I'm just... I'm so confused right now and... angry and... Jeez, I'm sorry." Sweetie Belle didn't even look her way. Scootaloo couldn't blame her. "I'm sorry," she repeated. She too glanced out the window. There was nothing much to look at, but she was okay with that. She didn't deserve to be entertained at the moment. Didn't deserve much of anything.
She sighed, blinked a few times, and let her mind drift back off into the...
The living room was quiet. She could hear the ticking of the clock hammering into her ears; she hated it. Her mom sat on the couch, patting the seat beside her.
"Scootaloo," she said. "Sit down, honey."
Scootaloo groaned and stamped on the floor. "But mooooommmm, I was just about to go over to Apple Bloom's. We're gonna try to earn our bungee jumping cutie marks!"
Flare Chaser smiled. "Hmm, have you earned a knot-tying cutie mark yet?"
"No."
"Then how can you be sure you aren't going to get hurt?"
"I... We... Ugh. You're no fun."
"I've been called worse," Flare Chaser giggled. "Anyway, have a seat. I promise it won't be long."
"Okay..." Scootaloo tried to hop up on the couch, but her usual stool had been moved. She fluttered her wings, hoping that it would give her enough lift; it was all in vain. She sighed and kicked the couch. "Stupid tall thing." She looked up at her mother with defeated eyes. Flare Chaser smiled, reached down, and placed her on the cushion beside her. The couch was fluffy and soft—felt just like a cloud.
"Alright. I have some great news!" her mother said, her wings twitching in excitement. Scootaloo's wings twitched as well.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Scootaloo... you're going to be a sister!"
Her jaw could have hit the ground. She was surprised it didn't. "A... sister?"
"Yes, honey."
There was a long pause before the widest, brightest smile spread across Scootaloo's face. "This is so awesome!" She stood up and began to jump up and down on the couch, singing, "I'm gonna be a sister! I'm gonna be a sister! Oh this is so cool. I'm gonna teach her to fly, and do backflips on a scooter, and put tacks on Diamond Tiara's chair an—" She was silenced by a hoof over her mouth. She looked up at her mother, and she looked at her, and then Scootaloo squealed and jumped into her mother's forelegs, entering the warmest of hugs. "I love you, mommy."
"I love you too, Scootaloo."
Scootaloo was brought to by the muffled blare of the ship's horn. A chill blew through the dining area as passengers shuffled out the door. It wasn't until Apple Bloom practically pulled her down from the bench that she followed suit.
The scent of salt water and pine hit her as soon as she stepped out of the door. A fog had fallen over the island, and she could only barely make out the tops of spruce trees peeking out the top of the veil. She didn't have much room to take in the surroundings, as she was quickly pushed forward by Apple Bloom.
Her hooves touched sand, and the view hadn't cleared in the slightest. Through the wispy brume, she could make out black forms, walking around like a scene out of a Hayman comic. Scootaloo gulped and tried to back away, but Apple Bloom would have none of it, and she was only pushed forward with more force. Eventually, she was able to regain control of her own legs, and she walked over to a nearby log—knees wobbling every step of the way—and plopped down. Two sighs rang through the air: the first being Scootaloo's relieved moan—her hind legs were still asleep—and the second one being Apple Bloom's much rougher exhale. Sweetie Belle stood back, staring at her hooves. Scootaloo couldn't bear to look at her.How could I be such a jerk?
"Because that's what you are. Nothing more."
And what do you mean by that?
The voice didn't respond: it knew it was wrong. Or was it that it knew it had won, and all other words would be pointless? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She had called Sweetie Belle a... she didn't even want to remember the word anymore. Heat rose in her throat and she punched the log once. Twice. Three times. She would have gone on into the dozens, had Apple Bloom not grabbed her foreleg.
"What is wrong with you?!" she said, voice quavering. Scootaloo saw no anger in her eyes, rather they were alight with... fright? No, that couldn't be it. Could it? Were they scared of her? If so, she couldn't blame them; she was scared of her. She groaned. Get it together. She lifted her hoof, thinking that a good slap across the face would hammer the word into her damned skull. A quick glance at her friends' faces silenced the thought. Get it together!
"Yes, get it together. That makes the explosion so much bigger. Brighter. Deadlier"
Shut up. You're a voice. All talk and no walk.
"I speak the truth. You walk a road of lies."
Yeah, whatever. Buzz off and let me think already.
"Hmm... yeah, sure. Nothing quite as entertaining as stupidity, and let me tell you, you're a prime purveyor of that."
With a grunt, she threw her saddlebags on the ground and nearly tore their tops open. "Just a voice," she whispered while she sifted through the contents. "Just a voice." Her nose met the book, inciting a yip, and she took it between her teeth and pulled it out. A smile spread on her lips as she stroked the cover. The voice always shut up when the book was around; this time was no different. All she could hear was the gentle rush of winds and waves, and the heavy tapping of a hoof.
She didn't need to look up. She could feel their gazes. Their questions. Their worry.
"Heh, uh, sorry about... all this, I, umm, just, uh... got a lot on my mind," she said, her throat burning with each word. She cleared it and continued, "So, looks like we're here." She kicked at one of the many pebbled littering the sand, but found her hind legs to be too short to reach it. Grunting, she dipped her muzzle back into her saddlebag and emerged with three maps—and one sheet of coupons for a restaurant called Aether's Genuine Pegasonian Cuisine. She lay the maps next to her on the log and ran a hoof over them as she checked for the Vanhoover Island map. A chiming of "A-ha"filled the air, and Scootaloo knocked two maps back in the general direction of her bag—one only partially falling into the opening and the other landing face-down in the sand—while placing the third on her lap. She couldn't help but sigh a little as she opened the map and saw an accurate, honest-to-Celestia map of Vanhoover Island staring back at her. Don't know what I was expecting. She gave a light chuckle at the thought.
"Alright," she said, tapping the map with one hoof while rubbing her head with the other. "We're on the southeastern coast of the island, at..." She looked towards a gathering of ponies near a large display board. Squinting, she could barely make out the words 'Landing' and a 'v.' Moving her gaze back to the map, her eyes almost immediately fell upon a dot with the name 'Thieves' Landing' printed beside it. She gave the faintest of smiles. Getting too excited would, inevitably, lead to disappointment, but a tiny bit wouldn't hurt. She cleared her throat and continued.
"So, we're at Thieves' Landing. That's here—" She slapped the map hard enough that she was surprised when it didn't tear. "—and the temple we're going to is, according to the book is up here, around the center of the island." She paused and briefly glanced at Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle's faces. Unsurprisingly, they both bore a perturbed look. "Now, the book didn't give away much in terms of directions—one of those, skip the adventure, straight to the plot points kinda book. Of course, it wastes time it could spend giving an accurate telling of Daring Do's journey discussing what Daring had for breakfast and describing the legs of all the mare characters, but that's, heh, that's got nothing to do with any of this. Why am I even mentioning it?" She looked Apple Bloom dead in the eye, then Sweetie Belle (glancing into those still hurting eyes twisted her stomach like a wringer), and then Apple Bloom again. She expected them to have the answers; she wasn't sure why.
"Anyways," she continued, "the book did tell of a landmark close by. It's located in this park area—according to this map, mountains everywhere—and is located a stone's throw from this formation called... uh, hold on a sec..." Muttering gibberish and swears, Scootaloo opened the book to a dog-eared page. "Ah, here we go. 'Raven Rock.'" As she closed the book and placed it on the log again, she couldn't help but shoot a smug smile in Apple Bloom's direction. "So, this Raven Rock is a real place, here on this island. In fact..."Pause for dramatic effect... and go! "It's located beside the Pisgah Trail, which just so happens to start right over..." She turned and pointed her hoof towards a thick area of brush. Just between the trees and shrubs, a narrow, dark path could be made out.
There was a long pause before Apple Bloom finally spoke. "Ya sure?"
"Uh, yeah. There's a sign right there."
"No, are ya sure that this temple place ain't nothing but another dang lie."
"No," Scootaloo said, tapping her hoof against the map in triplets, "but I'm not sure that itdoesn'texist either. The only way to find out is to buck up and just go."
Apple Bloom sighed. "How far away is this place, Scoots? A day? A week? In case ya didn't notice, we ain't exactly prepared for a long trip here."
"It's a day's hike at the longest. Seriously, it's only a nineteen kilometer hike."
"I ain't riskin' my life chasin' ghosts."
"And I'm tired of them haunting me!" Scootaloo yelled. "We've come too far to just give up because you're scared of getting a little thirsty. Hay, I didn't ask for you girls to come, and yet you came anyway. I'm going to go down that trail until I get to that temple."
"And what if it doesn't—"
"Oh, stuff it, Apple Bloom. This world was built on taking chances. I'm taking mine." She jumped down from the log, tossed the book and map into her saddlebags, scooped them up, and trudged towards the trail.
"Have it your way!" Apple Bloom practically screamed. Scootaloo didn't hear her—she had already disappeared amongst the shadows. Apple Bloom sighed. "C'mon, Sweetie Belle. Let's go. We'll tell the police she's here. I'm sure they can find her before she gets herself kill—Sweetie, where are you going?"
Sweetie Belle didn't respond. She simply galloped off and down the same path. Apple Bloom's jaw nearly hit the ground. At first there was only silence and squeaks, but she was eventually able to close her mouth, and with a shake of her head and a loud groan she marched down the trail as well. "Ya've gotta be kidding me," she grumbled as the trees blotted out the sun.
The hoofsteps had been following Scootaloo since less than a kilometer into her hike. She knew that they'd follow her. They always had; there was no reason for them to start abandoning her now. Still, she refused to acknowledge them. The closest step to hers had grown less frantic and more hesitant on their approach. Of course she wouldn't let her down—why Sweetie Belle was so friendly and loyal to a jackass like her was a mystery that she doubted she would ever solve. Of course, even though she had her back, it was clear she didn't want much to do with Scootaloo. Who could blame her? When the second pair stomped up behind her, low, harsh whispers followed, but Scootaloo ignored them. Whatever drama had come between them was no concern of hers. Her mind was set on only the trail and the temple; everything else was white noise and shadows.
Occasionally, her mind would be grasped by her surroundings, and it was a wonder she didn't fall flat on her face. Every step seemed to take her past a new piece of beauty: a distant snowy peak peering through the branches of towering pines, the sun reflecting off the surface of a serene lake, flowers of all shapes and colors. Sure, Scootaloo didn't like to admit it, but she really did think nature was beautiful. Not extreme or awesome, but pleasant and cool.
She climbed over a log and fell in the dirt on the other side. The hike was difficult, especially for a pony smaller than some of the trunks that had fallen across the path—but that only made it more fun. A gentle stroll through the wildflowers would grow old after a while. At least in this case, she had to focus on where she was stepping. One misplaced hoof on a loose rock could lead to a sprained ankle, or worse. She liked the risk. After all, risk equaled reward—or so she'd been told. Rainbow had always hammered it into her skull that a great flyer didn't become so by flying in slow circles. They became great when they risked life and limb. Hay, every hero she'd ever read about in those dusty old history books in school—the few times that she opened the things—had only become heroes after they threw caution into the wind. If she didn't find a temple out here, too bad. Still, she would find the temple. She had to. And, if she didn't, well, nothing in the world ever had a single path.
She treaded around a bend and nearly face-first into a giant boulder—as wide as the path and nearly a filly tall. Worse still, she couldn't get around it: a steep slope into a chasm hundreds of meters deep lay on one side, and a cliff wall lay on the other. There was only one way past it: over.
Whinnying and stamping the ground, she took her saddlebags off and tossed them over the rock. They landed on the other side with a soft thud, and Scootaloo sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow. A grunt and a jump and her forelegs were draped over the top of the infernal slab. Kicking her hind legs against the side and flapping her wings like a pegasus being chased by a swarm of angry bees, she found a small "ledge"—probably only a centimeter wide—and, somehow, balanced herself on the end of her left hind hoof. She slapped her foreleg around the top of the stone, breathing heavy and sweating buckets, and was eventually able to find a small crevasse to jam her forehoof into. Adjusting her weight to make sure it was stuck in there snuggly, she pressed her right hind hoof against the wall, and pushed up. She did the same with her left hind leg, and slowly but surely pulled herself up onto the top of the rock.
Safe and sound atop the boulder, she lay on her back, wiped the veil of sweat and matted mane from her forehead, and watched the clouds pass by overhead. It was strange, seeing the clouds move on their own. It was as though they had their own intelligence. She couldn't help but notice that there was no mold to their shape. Each one was different in some way. From a typically-shaped, puffy cumulonimbus, to a dancing wisp of cirrus, to clouds shaped like dogs, cats, buggies, and even carrots, there was no set in stone design. They simply were.
The sound of tumbling pebbles and squeaks graced her ears. She turned her head just in time to see a white hoof disappear behind the rock, followed by a screech and a thump. Leaning over the edge, she burst into a fit of giggles immediately.
On the ground, in a heap, lay Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. Sweetie was on her back, eyes wide and forelegs locked against her chest as she gasped for air. Scootaloo could just make out the bow and askew legs just barely visible beneath the tufts of white, purple, and pink. Shaking her head, Scootaloo reached down with a foreleg. Sweetie Belle rolled onto her belly and quickly rose to her hooves. However, she seemed frightened of Scootaloo's foreleg, and backed away slightly, nearly tripping over a still-grounded Apple Bloom. Scootaloo sighed and shook her hoof. Eyes connecting with Sweetie Belle's, the ghost of a smile tugged at Scootaloo's lips, and she said, "C'mon. Grab on." Her voice was soft, but her words seemed to speak volumes, because Sweetie grabbed her hoof almost immediately.
Sweetie Belle was lightweight, even for a unicorn—some bullies at school had taken to calling her Skeletone... whatever that meant. Needless to say, lifting her up took little effort. Apple Bloom, on the other hoof, had the appetite of an ox and the muscles of a farmpony, not to mention two sets of saddlebags—and proved to be more of a chore. Sweetie Belle even had to join in, grabbing Scootaloo's ribs and pulling with all her might. Eventually, they were able to haul her up, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were reunited once more. Again. For a split-second, time seemed to stop on a dime, and they found themselves staring at each other, smiling. It was strange; it didn't last long.
Sweetie started to giggle, then Scootaloo, and then Apple Bloom finally joined in. They knew not what they were laughing at or why. All they knew was that they were together. They also knew that the peace was unlikely to last. That's why they enjoyed these moments. All it took was one word to send one of them over the edge and leave everything as fractured as before.
And so they simply lay on their backs, hooves kicking in the air and tears tickling their eyelids as they reveled in the mere presence of one another. While it lasted, it was joyful and beautiful.
But, of course, it didn't last forever. Nothing did. There was always something lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce and mess things up even more than they had already been. What was worst: they were not always bad things. Good was often just as disastrous as bad.
Scootaloo was the first to stop laughing and the first to stand up. Chest still racked with giggles, she jumped down the other side of the boulder and scooped up her saddlebags. As she attempted to tighten them with her mouth—a task that had become easier with experience, but was still a royal pain in the wings—she noticed something reflecting sunlight in her direction. She squinted and could make out a bright flash of life seemingly hanging in midair. Without taking her eyes off the object, she reached into her saddlebags and pulled the map out. Not surprising, it fell to the ground. Irked beyond belief, she leaned down, eyes still set on the... thing, and grabbed the map in her teeth. It was as the familiar taste of paper tickled her tongue that it happened.
A plethora of deep caws rang out from somewhere off to her left, and the world was bathed in shadows. Scootaloo watched in a mix of awe and horror as hundreds of ravens flew over her head, circled a jet-black, pointed rock just off the path six times, and soared off to Celestia knows where. After the brief calamity had ended, silence reigned. None of the three Crusaders said a word or even seemed to take a breath. Then two and two came together, and Scootaloo hurriedly picked up the dusty map.
Not that it mattered. She knew exactly where she was. A quick look at the blurry photograph beside a red marker only made it undeniable. She looked up at her friends, shooting them a maniacal grin, and then towards the hovering light. Without a word, she charged forward, tripping over stones and twigs, narrowly dodging and getting slapped in the face by low-hanging branches. Her hooves and legs and ribs and throat all burned, but that didn't slow her down or wipe the smile from her face. "Oh please," she whispered between gasps for air. "Oh pleasepleaseplease!" She broke through the treeline, skidded to a halt, and felt the desire to fall on her knees and weep. Her legs turned to jelly and she collapsed in a heap on the ground—shaking all over—but no tears came. She was smiling too big.
Before her was a temple. The temple
"Oh, thank you." She kissed the ground. It tasted of grass, dirt, and a rekindled spark. "Thank you."
The sounds of heavy hoofsteps rushed up behind her, then skidded to a stop. Once again, silence permeated the world. Scootaloo looked up and took in the divine spectacle. It was just like the book had described it: as long as three houses, as tall as two, statues and golden symbols lining all the walls and beams, and in the middle, a single towering spire with a golden design resembling a griffon's talon hanging in the middle. Though she couldn't be sure, Scootaloo wouldn't be surprised if it was bigger than she was. For a second, Scootaloo had no desire to do anything but simply sit there and let the grass grow and overtake her. Then Apple Bloom spoke and knocked her out of her trance.
"Well, I'll be." She whistled. "Shoot... I... dang..." Scootaloo could hear her kick the dirt and had to bite her lip to keep from dissolving into cackles.
"Is this it, Scoots?" Sweetie Belle asked
"Of course it isn't." As always, the damned voice returned. Scootaloo had tried to give the voice a face. What she had come up with was an overweight stallion with a receding maneline, warts on his muzzle, and only two lower teeth resting on its gingivitis-ridden gums. Of course, it was a silly picture. As far as she could tell, the voice sounded just like her own. That, more than anything, was why she hated it, and the farther away from it she could get the better. "You know this isn't actually it, right?" the voice sneered."Just some temple. Ain't no ticket to paradise in there."
Scootaloo was about to respond, but held her mind and lip. She was tired of arguing, and the voice wasn't going to stop no matter how much she tried to defend herself. Instead, she ignored it and turned to Sweetie Belle, nodding. "Yes," she said, grinning ear-to-ear. "This is it."
"Wow..." Sweetie's mouth hung open as she tilted her head back and stared at the spire. Scootaloo allowed herself a single chuckle. A little smug satisfaction never hurt anypony, and, boy, did it feel good being right. She looked up to the sky behind Sweetie Belle, nearly directly at the sun. Knew you wouldn't let me down, Rainbow. Just hold tight. I'll be comin' for you soon. She made sure neither Sweetie Belle nor Apple Bloom were looking at her, lifted her foreleg to the sky and winked. Then, she started to strut towards the temple's front door.
"Let's check this place out!" she called out, casting a sly glance over back. "Whaddaya say?"
"Uh..." Apple Bloom dragged the word out and looked at Sweetie Belle—who merely shrugged. Apple Bloom shrugged herself and began to step forward. "Sure. Lead the way."
"With pleasure," Scootaloo said with a grin, and together they walked into the unknown.