Spotlights bored down upon a lone figure draped in a coiled black cloth. Hundreds of eyes shimmered as the last of the twinkling ashes faded away, leaving only faint puffs of smoke hanging in the air. The area was calm, but it was as false calm. The main event was about to begin.

With a flourish, the black cape vanished like smoke. A loud stallion, wearing a gaudy clothing best described as a penguin in a clown suit grabbed a microphone with his magic. “Welcome! Welcome, everypony, to Infinibrand's Traveling Circus. Today, we will begin the Equestria Games with a stunning, death-defying performance from none other than the legendary—”

While the ringmaster spoke, three small figures made their way up a six-story ladder to a tiny platform overlooking the entire arena.

“Ooh. I really, really don't like heights,” Sweetie Belle moaned. She paused partway up, and the others nearly bumped into her.

“Sweetie Belle, We've done this how many times now?” Scootaloo asked flatly. While waiting, she fidgeted with the chin strap on her helmet. It was nice and secure, but mostly ornamental. At this height, a fall would be excessively fatal regardless of any kind of helmet or chin pad, especially with what they were going to do.

“Only about a dozen,” Sweetie Belle replied, without budging. Scootaloo snorted.

“All things considered, that's not that much,” Apple Bloom said.

“Yeah! We're practically just learning this.” Sweetie Belle took a deep breath. “So if I want to close my eyes and imagine we're back in the clubhouse, I can.”

Growling, Scootaloo rattled the ladder, causing Apple Bloom to cling tight. “Oh come on! You know we have to be up there! There isn't time for—whatever you're doing!”

“Scootaloo, cut it out!” Apple Bloom clenched her teeth. “If ya make us fall off, we'll be the laughing stock of the century.”

While they argued, strobe lights pivoted over to shine on their faces, illuminating them in front of the whole crowd. Loudspeakers boomed, and fresh plumes of dazzling fire burst into the air.

“Now look what you did! We're late. We're already supposed to be up there!” Scootaloo yelled.

“I'm going. I'm going!” With renewed haste, the Cutie Mark Crusaders clambered up the ladder. This time, the spotlight was on them for the whole world to see. Three little tails swung in the breeze, as provided by the weather technician pegasai overseeing this event. Their little bodies were covered in orange and olive Manehatten-style stunt suits, except for their flanks, which were deliberately left bare to show their lack of cutie marks.

At the top, the heavy music faded away, and the crowd hushed. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo quickly snapped in their safety harnesses, securing themselves to the awaiting hang glider. Sweetie Belle did not. She panted with her little, moist tongue lolling out. A slow drumroll began.

“Uh, Sweetie Belle?” Apple Bloom glanced over her shoulder. Scootaloo bit her lip as the drumroll heightened towards it crescendo. “We can't go without ya.”

“I'm coming!” she wailed. Leaping forward, she snagged the bar between her friends and kicked off the platform, sending them all plunging. The drumroll abruptly ceased and cymbals clanged. But at that point, they were already halfway down in a steep dive.

Flames burst all around them. The sky erupted into filaments of smoke, flame, and snaking ember fountains. With uncanny deftness, The Cutie Mark Crusaders swiveled and looped around them. It was a breathtaking performance, and the sweat dripping off their tight, clenched little faces glistened with flashes of red amongst the burning sky. Even the best of the Wonderbolts would have a hard time putting on a performance that extreme.

But it wasn't all perfect. Their shadow was being trailed.

At the top of a spiraling corkscrew, Apple Bloom nudged her adjacent friend and pointed at the ground, where a trampoline was being carried by several stallions. “Uh, Sweetie Belle, I think they noticed that ya didn't strap yerself in.”

She grunted, scrunching up her face and curling her lips down. A tiny spark from her horn lit the sparklers on their craft, and the other two gulped. With a grunt, she kicked back hard and their hang-glider flipped, breaking into a near-sonic nosedive.

The audience saw a trail of fire cut through the sky. The ground crew scrambled like rabbits, desperately trying to keep up.

If anything, the Crusaders zoomed even faster. Flames stared erupting far behind them, as even the air crew had trouble keeping up.

Back down on the lone platform, Mr. Infinibrand sighed. He pulled his top hat down to cover his eyes. “Those kids. I swear—they'll be the death of me someday.”

The crowd didn't care, though. They roared with applause with each and every new death-defying trick. The three of them had gotten so engrossed in their hang-gliding that they started inventing new tricks. In one particularly harrowing stunt, Sweetie Belle actually let go, and the others looped around to catch her.

None of them where real experts, not in the traditional sense, but when it came to special talents, well, none were better than the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

Touching down with the grace of a swan, several bright lights swarmed over them. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had to unbuckle, and quickly raced to join Sweetie Belle who'd already rushed to hop onto the circular platform in the center of the stage. Infinibrand stood off to the side. The crowd roared, cheering and clapping their hooves together.

“Wait for it...” Despite the sweat rolling down her hide and her heart thudding in her chest, Apple Bloom was giddy. Magic bubbled inside her, filling her with a lightness of spirit that bordered on euphoria. Her smile was not masked, and neither were her friends. This was, by far, the best part.

Flashes of light exploded from their flanks, revealing near-identical cutie marks. All three of them had hang gliders striped with colors that matched their manes. Scootaloo's hang glider had a small, purple lightning bolt on it, while Sweetie Belle had a matching star and Apple Bloom had an apple.

“WE ALL GOT THE SAME CUTIE MARK! CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS FOREVER!”

Many ponies got up and stomped their hooves. It was a standing ovation. The Equestria Games would be hard pressed to top that.

Stars wavered in the sky; trumpets blared while teams of athletes marched to the combined tunes of their anthems and the theme of the Equestria Games. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had faded away, retreating into the dressing room. Their uniforms were piled in a heap on the nearest bench, while half-open lockers were raided for shower caps and slippers. Even ones such as themselves enjoyed a good scrubbing down after a hard day's work.

Padding off with oversized towels, they managed to frazzle their manes.

There was a knock on the door. “It's Infinibrand. May I come in?” he asked, ever-so-politely.

Glancing at each other, they shrugged. It wasn't like they wore clothes. “Sure,” Scootaloo replied.

The big stallion opened the door and stepped in. He sighed at them. His colorful, tassled circus uniform made him look twice as big as the Crusaders combined, but in their presence, he was the small one. “You girls are going to be the death of me someday.”

“Girls.” Sweetie Belle snorted. “You do know that we're ten times older than you, right?”

“Yes. And you keep reminding me too.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “But sometimes you three actually act as old as you look.”

“What'da ya mean by that?” Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. When she glared up at him, he backed off.

“Did you not like our act?” Scootaloo asked.

“Oh no—nothing like that.” He gave a hearty chuckle and put on a big smile, perfect for the grand stage. “You were incredible. It was such amazing! So fluid—so graceful—so flashy, grand, stylish, powerful, moving, and all other, incredible, earth-shaking, heart-pounding, mind-boggling adjectives you care to throw it. Oh no, your performance was ze magic, so to speak.”

He took a deep sigh, and cast his brilliant top-hat off to join the cluttered uniforms on the floor. Without it, his balding blue mane atop his worry-lined cream face made him look about a hundred years older. “It was the other things: the stalling on the ladder, the not wearing the harness, the leaping before the signal, the avoiding the safety crew, the letting go midair.” He shook his head at that last one. “So reckless.”

“Oh come on. It's not like that.” Sweetie Belle dropped her towel and pointed at her cutie mark. “You know as well as we do that when it comes to these things, we literally can't mess up.”

“Yes. I know that. And you know that, but zey--” he pointed a hoof up at the ceiling. This dressing room was beneath the bleachers, where the crowd was currently cheering for the Cloudsdale team. “Zey do not.”

Scootaloo snorted. “They'd have to be living under a rock not to have heard about us.”

Closing his eyes, Infinibrand shook his head. “I think what I mean is that you were not being professional. Is there something on your minds?”

They all frowned and their postures sagged. “It's just—we've been doing this for so long.” Apple Bloom sighed.

Scootaloo rubbed at her flank, caressing her cutie mark. “You know. I really enjoyed myself up there. It felt, well, it felt like it was really what I was meant to do. Yeah. I know that we kinda feel like that each time, but this was special. I really like this one.” She pulled her lips taught, barely turning them up in a forced grin. “Do you think we'll actually get to keep them this time?”

Sweetie Belle turned away when Scootaloo looked at her, and so did Apple Bloom. Both of them had tears in their eyes.

A cool breeze swept over the sea, sweeping damp, salty air ashore. It broke in waves over the city's towering skyscrapers, much like the actual waves broke upon the sandy beaches. These cloud crests were some of the most unique and delicate cloud sculptures ever created. Not that ponies really appreciated it—Manehatten's weather team was far more famous for its unexpected “budgetary surplus” downpours.

This breeze was also good for flying kites, and that's exactly what the Cutie Mark Crusaders were up to.

Apple Bloom squinted her eyes beneath a pair of thick, black sunglasses. She wasn't trying to be incognito. She just needed them to watch her flying 'dragon' kite through the double-whammy of the rising sun and its glare across the restless ocean. “Ya know, I don't think that Infinibrand really understands us.”

“Amen to that.” Scootaloo nodded. She tugged on the string to her warp-star class spaceship kite. Lights blinked along the bow, just like the real thing. “He lines up all these dangerous stunts, and then complains when we make them look dangerous. Really? What did he expect?”

Sweetie Belle bit her lip and carefully prodded her remote. Unlike the other two who were flying traditional kites, she was piloting a drone. Her flying, rocket ship pinata spun and looped as she got a feel for the controls. “And these so-called 'cushy' jobs—what's the point? They don't accomplish anything.”

“That's not entirely true...” Apple Bloom peeked under the sunglasses at the wedding party strolling down the beach. Those ponies were in for a surprise. Grinning, she fidgeted with a button hidden in her mane. “This looks like a lot of fun.”

Scootaloo flicked a lighter and pressed the blue flame against a slow-burning fuse. It sparked and hissed as the flame slowly snaked along the sand. “Apple Bloom, everything is fun. It's the same, exact fun that we have each and every day. Yes. It's fun, but it still gets old.”

“Shh—get down!” Sweetie Belle herded them behind a dune as the bigger ponies got closer. “Fun or no fun. What's the point? Anypony else could do this and we're just going to be doing something different tomorrow, anyway.”

“Yeah. A birthday party,” Apple Bloom replied.

“No! Well, yes. What I mean is that it was bad enough when we were ten and couldn't figure out what we wanted to do with our lives, and here we are, hundreds of years later, and we can't even keep the same cutie marks for more than a few days at most.”

Hollow booms shook the earth, and the sand was shredded by plumes of confetti. That's when Apple Bloom dove her dragon kite down, roaring at the startled wedding guests. Scootaloo's spaceship intervened, snagging the dragon with a holding beam. That's when Sweetie Belle's rocket hit it, and soon the air was smothered in candy confetti shrapnel, fluttering down like milkweed.

Projected from the spaceship, the word “CONGRATULATIONS!” hung in the air. Back lit by the early sunrise and the cloud-haired skyscrapers, it was a truly marvelous sight. The guests all cheered. Little kids trotted about, collecting the sickly-sweet things to ruin their appetite for wedding cake.

“You're just complaining because it's a wedding,” Scootaloo said.

“I am not!” Sweetie Belle scrunched up her face.

“It's so odd, though.” Apple Bloom sighed. “Those ponies are like babies to us, but at the same time, we'll never really be as old as them.”

Bright flashes finished off the festivities, and the three of them now had brand-new party streamer cutie marks. “That's our cue,” Scootaloo said.

Dashing up the sand dune, they hopped and jumped with massive smiles on their faces. “WE ALL GOT THE SAME CUTIE MARKS! CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS FOREVER!”

Water gurgled from a fountain amidst a hedgerow of perfectly-groomed flora. Little kids laughed and splashed about. Dressed in formal attire, the Cutie Mark Crusaders smiled off to the side. They wore perfect, flowery white dresses that covered everything except for their blank flanks.

“This isn't so bad,” Scootaloo said. She took a deep breath and blew up one of those tube-shaped balloons. Deftly twisting it into a giraffe, she passed it to a little, freckled colt with calico splotches. “Hey—he kind of reminds me of Pipsqueak.”

“That's a name I haven't heard in forever.” Sweetie Belle twisted together a swan, while Apple Bloom was more ambitious and crafted an entire castle out of balloons. “Are you missing the old times?”

“Do we ever not?” Scootaloo asked. She paused to inflate a pink balloon, which she twisted into a balloon. It was balloon-ception. She sighed. “It'd be so easy to toss off these dresses and join their party. We look just like them.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn't be the same.” Sweetie Belle gave a watermellon-shaped balloon to a pink filly just her size. The little girl thanked her and galloped off, bouncing it off her head like a ball.

“It never is.” Apple Bloom hopped down. She'd just finished putting the finishing touches on her balloon cannons to man her balloon ramparts. “Ah hate to say it, but we're not kids anymore.”

Rolling her eyes, Scootaloo created a balloon-ladybug without even looking. “If you hate to say it, then why do you keep doing just that?”

“Maybe Ah just hate this in general?” Apple bloom spat. A blue colt, who had been reaching for Scootaloo's creation, turned tail and trotted off.

“Stop that. You're scaring them,” Sweetie Belle said. “And Apple Bloom, I thought we've been over this. It wasn't your fault.”

“Except that it was.” She grit her teeth and stared up at the sky. With a free hoof, she deftly assembled a tumbleweed. “If I'd just listened to y'all back then then none of this—”

Bright lights flashed off their flanks. The crowd of children oohed and awed. Once again, they were all adorned with cutie marks. This time, they were striped balloons with the same color schemes and individual symbols as always.

Dozens of glittering young eyes stared at them. They had to say it. They had to.

“WE ALL GOT THE SAME CUTIE MARK!” they roared. “CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS FOREVER!”

Even though it wasn't really necessary, Infinibrand still gave them time off. It'd be best if they rested up before the Equestria Games came to a close, as they were expected in the parade.

So, of course, they climbed a mountain.

“Well. If it isn't the Cutie Mark Crusaders.” An enormous green dragon with purple spines leaned down to greet them. “What can old Spike do for you?”

“It's always good to see a familiar face.” Scootaloo set down her walking stick and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “But do you have to live on top of a mountain?”

Spike chuckled, spewing steam from his nostrils. The thin wisps of smoke were caught by the thin, mountain air and carried off, on an incredible journey to everywhere and nowhere. “Unlike you three, I'm not a whelp anymore. I can't fit in ponies' houses.” Standing up, he thumped on his chest. “And besides, where else would I put my hoard?”

“In a library?” Apple Bloom teased.

He grinned. “It is a library.”

“Yeah, um...” Sweetie Belle rubbed at her mane. She winced as a touch of ice from the snow-covered peak got blown in her face. “Do you mind if we join you for a bit?”

“Of course! Come in. I'll make tea.” It was an odd sight to see such an enormous dragon turn tail, don an apron, and boil tea over an open flame. Ever hospitable to a fault, no matter how big he got, Spike never stopped acting like Spike.

“Thanks.” Scootaloo sniffed at the air. It smelt more like dragon breath than tea, to be honest. At least Spike's cavern was warm. “That smells good.”

Apple Bloom pulled up a chair and sat at a large, stone table. While waiting for Spike, she looked around. The walls were covered in old photos, showing many smiling faces. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity and the others were eternally trapped behind frames of glass. Apple Bloom felt like she should be nostalgic, but at the moment, all she could think of was just how old the pictures were.

“Here you go!” Spike's booming voice echoed in the chamber. He very carefully set down three steaming cups of tea with his enormous talons. “Just as you like them!”

“Wow. Thanks, Spike.” Sweetie Belle stirred her cup. “Ooh! You even put a marshmallow in mine!”

Spike grinned. There was a twinkle in his eye. He always loved being appreciated. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Well...” Apple Bloom scuffed her hoof across the table. “We've been feeling kinda down lately and were wondering if—”

“Kinda down? We've been outright moody,” Scootaloo said.

“We haven't been that bad,” Sweetie Belle said.

Apple Bloom grunted. “Says the pony who let go of a perfectly good hang glider.”

Spikes eyes widened. He lowered his head down to their level, resting it on the table like a pillow. “Is this about the immortality thing again?”

They nodded.

“Well, old Spike's memory isn't all it used to be. Can you remind me how that happened?”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “Sure, why not? I found this, crusty, forbidden book in the old castle, and well, to make a long story short...”

Standing before a clear blue pool, the Cutie Mark Crusaders grinned madly.

“We found it! We found it! We found it!” Sweetie Belle cheered.

It was a shimmering puddle of pure, raw, magical energy. The radiant glow tinted their hides and made the gray limestone walls look like pure sapphire.

“So...” Scootaloo waved a hoof at the pool. “Now what?”

“Now we, um.” Apple Bloom gulped. “What's it say?”

Flipping open the book, Sweetie Belle scanned a few pages. “According to this, we hope we don't wish ourselves into oblivion.”

“What?” Scootaloo asked. She bit her lip. The gurgling magic was enticing, but also dangerous.

“I'm sure it's nothing to worry about,” Sweetie Belle chuckled, weakly. “I mean, we can't actually turn back.”

“We can't?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. The bright light from the pool cast equally black shadows.

“As long as our heart's desire remains unfulfilled, we'll be drawn back here until it's been willed,” Sweeite Belle recited.

“I remember that!” Spike stood back up, looming over them in a great shadow. “The Well of Externity can grant any wish, but it won't allow you to leave until your heart's desire's been fulfilled. You three are lucky you didn't want much. Most ponies never come back.”

“Yeah. Lucky. Right.” Apple Bloom grunted. “It's too bad, 'we wish we were home' didn't work.”

“We really should have read the whole book before rushing out to find it,” Scootaloo said.

“So what did you wish for?” Spike asked.

“Well. I've always wanted my cutie mark,” Apple Bloom said. “I want it to be perfect. For all of us.”

“And I'm tired of failing at everything we do. Why can't things just work?” Scootaloo said.

“And I want us to get our cutie marks at the same time. So we can always be together,” Sweetie Belle said.

The fountain gurgled and frothed. It boiled over. The ground shook, and stones tumbled down.

“Run!” Apple Bloom yelled.

They were far too slow. A steaming bath of magical geyser overtook them.

Spike nodded. “That's about right. Wishing wells are notoriously unreliable. Left over from the creation of the world, they're inherently as chaotic as they are powerful. At least you got what you wanted, right?”

“Yes. Our cutie marks are always perfect,” Apple Bloom said.

“And we always succeed at whatever we do,” Scootaloo said.

“And we always get our cutie marks together.” Sweetie Belle sighed. She took a swig of her tea, not really caring that it hadn't cooled down yet. “But they're not really perfect perfect. Not for all of us. No two or three ponies ever want to do the same exact thing their whole lives. Who ever heard of that?”

“And if we succeed at one thing, that would mean we wouldn't succeed at something else,” Scootaloo said. “So we can't keep the cutie marks. They go away.”

Apple Bloom swirled her spoon around in her cup. “No. And we can't not get 'em, either. We have to. That's what I wanted.” Blowing on her tea, she took a small sip. “Ever since then, we've been getting exactly what we wished for: brand new, perfect, synchronized cutie marks each and every day, constantly wiped away so that we can keep succeeding at everything we try over and over and over and, well, ya get the point.”

“Starlight Glimmer said that it was like a personal time-loop,” Scootaloo said. “She speculated that we might not even be able to die.” She blinked. “Uh, not like we've ever tried to do that.” Glancing at Sweetie Belle, she narrowed her eyes. “Seriously, anyway.”

“What?” Sweetie asked.

“Nothing.” Scootaloo heaved a sigh so big that she seemed to deflate. “Celestia knows that I've shown off way more than you ever have.”

“Don't be so glum, little ponies.” Spike smirked, holding a claw to his lips to hide his grin. “As far as unintended consequences go, immortality and eternal youth are probably some of the best.”

“You always look on the bright side of things, Spike.” Scootaloo shrugged and drank her tea as well. Her own cup was laced with rosemary cinnamon spice, giving it a potent kick. She grinned.

“You say 'consequences'. We say 'curse'.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “Spike, Ah know you really care, but...” She took a deep breath. “Just this week, we went and out-performed an entire armada of athletes without any real training. The magic did all the work. We were guided by our cutie marks. That's hardly fair.”

“And we went to a wedding.” Sweetie Belle scrunched up her snout. “We'll never get married. We'll never have kids. We're still fillies. We still can't drink, or smoke, or—or... We get kicked out of those late night dance clubs. What's the point of being old if we can never be adults? We'll never know what that's like. We wake up almost every single day as blank flanks. We never change. It's just not right.”

“And there was a birthday party.” Scootaloo tapped her empty mug on the table. The sound rang through the cavernous chamber. “The colt was eight. We're, uh, I think we're around five hundred. It was so awkward. They were so innocent, and we—we lost that long ago. What's the point of looking like kids if we can't ever be kids. It's just not fair.”

“Nopony ever said that life was fair.” Spike picked up an old heart ruby and twirled it in his claws. With a small huff that hardly contained any flame, he blew the dust off. Frowning, he placed it back on the shelf next to his other keepsakes from his baby years. “You know, there are many who envy you.”

“We know,” they sighed.

Scootaloo pounded a hoof on the table. “That's what makes it harder. Knowing we're looked up to all the time—we feel guilty for feeling guilty.”

“Well, except fer all the crazy ponies who don't think we're even real.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.

Sweetie Belle's scowl darkened. “If one more pony calls me a robot...”

Their eyes popped open as Spike bent down and scooped them up in one swift motion. They were like dolls in his massive grip. “Okay. That's enough angst for today. Time to cheer you up.” Ducking low, he carried them deeper into his lair, disappearing into a side chamber that led to his study.

They held their tongues. Spike was always pulling stuff like that. Sometimes, it even worked.

With a large gout of flame, the elder dragon lit an entire row of torches. How he avoided scorching the many shelves of books that also lined the walls, they never could figure out. This room was as large as the entire Canterlot library, and it was just one room. Dipping low, he set set them down in front of a massive chalkboard covered in strange, draconian symbols. His time in the dragon lands still showed occasionally.

“So what's this?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I've been thinking. What was the longest cutie mark you ever had?” He picked up a sofa and swiped it across the slate. It was the biggest eraser they'd ever seen.

“Um. We were gymnasts for a a few days.” Scootaloo tapped on her chin.

“And we were gardeners for about three I think,” Sweetie Belle frowned.

“Guidance counselors, actually. We were guidance counselors for a whole week,” Apple Bloom said.

Spike nodded and wrote that on the board. “What did you like about it?”

“Dunno. We enjoy everything we do. It all blurs together,” Apple Bloom said.

“Well, if I had to take a guess, I'd say that when we worried about other ponies' problems, it was easier to forget our own,” Sweetie Belle said.

Spike frowned. He hesitated with the chalk. That wasn't really the answer he wanted. “What caused it to go away?” he asked.

“We ran out of ponies to guide.” Scootaloo shrugged. “It's not like that was going to last, anyway. As soon as one of us gets a different idea for something else to do, we all wake up as blank flanks again. It doesn't matter if they last a day or a week. We always reset. The end result's the same.”

“I was afraid of this.” Spike shook his massive head. “You're forgetting the most important thing about being immortal.” Pointing a talon at them, he declared, “It's not about you.”

“Huh?” They blinked, then looked up at him. “Spike, what do you mean?” Scootaloo asked.

“What I'm saying is that you need to take a break from that circus act. Go out there, and make some friends.”

“Friends? But Spike, we're hundreds of years old. Any friends we make will die before our eyes.” Sweetie Belle frowned. “It's happened to you too. How can you even suggest that?”

The massive dragon chuckled, letting out gouts of green-tinted smoke. “Because the good times are worth it. A pony only dies once, but they live the rest of their lives.”

“Wow. You really are an eternal optimist,” Scootaloo said.

“Guidance counselors, huh?” Spike rubbed the scales on his chin. “How about this? Go out there, and help fillies and colts who are struggling like you once did to find their own cutie marks.”

“Cutie mark guidance counselors?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “I don't think that would work.”

“You're uniquely qualified. You've earned each cutie mark multiple times.”

“By cheating,” Scootaloo scoffed.

“What would a cutie mark for finding cutie marks even look like?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Bright flashes momentarily blinded them. Once the spots in their eyes faded, Apple Bloom checked her flank. “A shield, apparently.”

“See? I knew you could do it,” Spike said.

They frowned. Sweetie Belle cleared her throat. “Spike, we get new cutie marks every day. Without fail. Even if we don't even try. For all we know, these could be cutie marks in wasting time.”

“Can you forget about the cutie marks?” Spike grumbled. When a full-grown dragon grumbles, the whole room grumbles too. The Cutie Mark Crusaders nervously glanced about, ready to dodge any falling books. “Just try it, okay?” Spike added, more softly, “Celestia knows you can always do something different, but right now you need to make friends. Promise old Spike that you'll at least try.”

They glanced at each other and shrugged. There didn't seem to be any harm in humoring him. “We promise, Spike,” they all said.

“Good!” He stood tall and straight, with a big grin on his toothy face. “Now who wants more tea?”

“Oo-ooh, Ooh! Me! Me!” Sweetie Belle hopped up and down. Sometimes, it was really hard to tell that she was as old as she was.

Spike ducked, and turned to walk back out, but Apple Bloom waved her hoof in the air. “Wait! I just noticed somethin'.”

“What is it?” Scootaloo asked.

Twisting around, she pointed at her flank. “We all got the same cutie marks.”

There was much groaning, as if that was a bad joke that had been repeated forever, which it was.