Dash leaned back in her chair, letting a satisfied belch pass through her system. She gave a nod to Pinkie as the woman returned to her seat. What really drew the athlete’s attention, though, was when Spike entered the house. His face was so flushed and red that Isabelle actually thought something was wrong with the kid. Then she remembered where he went earlier, and it clicked.

A slow, predatory grin crossed her lips as she rose from the chair and walked over to the young man. She leaned an elbow onto his shoulder. “So, squirt. Did you finally catch a peek?” she whispered to him in a conspiring tone, a bit too interested in hearing his story.

Spike just sat there, expressionless, motionless. Slowly he turned to look at Dash, his face breaking into a smile that she could only call awesome in the most traditional of senses.

“Bro,” she addressed proudly, offering a fist to the young man.

“I have seen angels.” His voice was shaky and a little breathless as he returned the gesture. A loud growl emanated from his stomach, wiping the smile off his face as he looked to the still mostly-laden table. “Uh, is the food ready? I’m starving!”

“Hell yeah. Eat, eat.” Dash gestured to the plethora of food on the table. “World’s your oyster, champ. Live it up!” After giving Spike a shove in the right direction, she headed towards the door. “Guess I’ll go and hit up Twila. Might as well get a good seat for the lecture.” She gave a small wave of her hand in farewell.

His mouth full of toast and ham, he called out to her, “‘F you see Rarity, don’ say nothin’!”

“Heh,” Dash laughed, opening the door and closing it shut behind her.

Spike swallowed. “Twila’s probably wondering where we all are, so we better hurry,” the young man said to Chylene and Pinkie.

Pinkie enthusiastically nodded, shoveling bite after bite into her mouth. Her cheeks distended from the abundance of food she had crammed into her mouth, and crumbs flew freely with every bob of her head. She was done with her meal in roughly about two minutes, then quickly got up and chucked her plate and cutlery in the sink.

“All done, full up and ready to roll!” she announced, before rushing out the door. Chylene nervously smiled, still slowly and delicately cutting into her food with a knife and fork.

“Aren’t ya gonna follow ‘em?” asked Alice.

Chylene twitched a bit before replying, quietly, “I’m not sure if I should really go or not...”

Swallowing a bite of omelet, Mac noticed the uncomfortable squirm to Chy’s posture. “This sure is delicious, Chy,” he said, deflecting the topic. He got a slightly annoyed look from Alice, but he went on, “I sure did miss yer cookin’. It’s as good as ever.”

She blushed lightly, giving a small, “Thank you.” Mac knew she meant it for more than just the omelet. The two had briefly dated, the big man being her first lover. She had spent several nights--surprising all her friends--over at the farmhouse, and thus several mornings. While it hadn’t lasted, it had ended mutually enough and the two had remained friends. So he could always read between the lines.

But the young woman shook her head and said, “It’s alright, Mac. I just... I don’t know what I can do. The last time was so scary...and I don’t know if I can do it again.” She set her fork down, placing her trembling hands in her lap. “What if I freeze? What if one of our friends d-doesn’t come h-home because I--”

“That’s enough,” Mac said firmly, but not unkindly. She looked up, surprised. “I don’t know what the future holds for y’all, Chy, or even what exactly you girls did. What I do know is my sister is alive thanks to ya. That’s all you, Chy.” He gave her a warm smile reminiscent of their nights together. “And I’d be able ta sleep a bit better at night knowin’ you’re with ‘em, keepin’ an eye on everyone.”

Alice looked from the quiet Chy to her brother’s smile. “I’m not sure I really get it, but...y’all are a team, aren’t ya? It’s not the same if you don’t go, Miss Chy. It’d be like me an’ Sweetie goin’ off without Scoots. With jus’ the two of us, we’re not really the Crusaders, y’know?”

Chylene gave a slow nod before placing one of her hands on the big Apple’s--it had always made her feel so safe, how much bigger he was than her and yet so careful, so gentle. “Thank you,” she said, then to Alice, “and you, too, Alice. Go ahead and finish breakfast, OK? I’ll wash the dishes later.”

Scooting his chair up, Mac began gathering the dishes, nodding for Alice to do the same. “Don’t you worry about that, Chy. We’ll take care of the house, make sure y’all have a home to come back to when you’re finished.”

“I’ll make us a big meal to celebrate, with all your favorites, Mac.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he said simply, still gathering dishes. With that, the young woman returned her chair to its place in the table and headed for the Hub.

It was time for a meeting and Chylene didn’t want to be late.

When Jack entered the Hub, she found it empty, much to her surprise.

“Twila? Ya’ll here or what?” she asked the mostly dark room, to no reply. That was strange--whenever Twila had sent Spike in the past to gather them for a meeting, she’d always been present, ready and waiting for everyone else to show up. She and Jack didn’t always get along--Jack being more down to earth in her lifestyle than the studious Twila--but the farmgirl always gave her dear friend credit where credit was due: she was an excellent leader, caring and thoughtful. Jack trusted her more than most, which is what made her absence all the stranger.

After pulling off the bank heist months ago, Twila had taken up the overarching workings of their increasingly complicated plot against the Tyrant. While Jack’s stake had been mostly personal retribution for her family’s farm, Twila’s was not only personal but honestly tied into her entire reason for living. She was also naturally focused, sometimes too much so--Jack had lost her nights to her nightmares, but she knew Twila had lost even more to just the general workload of their plans. Still, as she had found out over their developing friendship of the past three years, Twila could get the job done, especially with the help of Jack and the rest.

There weren’t many rooms to the Hub--the main entrance which doubled as the meeting room, the firing range and storage room, the emergency stores down another level, a few smaller rooms with military grade cots, and the small mess and dining area.

It was from there she heard the sobs.

The woman took a few slow, careful steps towards the door. She nudged the door open, taking in the sight. Twila--cool, calm, rational Twila--sat at the simple metal table, her head in her hands, her eyes red from crying. Through the wracking sobs, Jack occasionally caught a murmur of things like ‘Big Brother’ and ‘not strong enough’. So focused on her own thoughts and feelings, she didn’t even notice Jack entering the room.

Jack rubbed at the back of her neck. She wasn’t the best at comforting crying women--a trait most Apples seemed to share. Regardless, she put on a brave face and moved to the table Twila sat at. “Uh...” Jack started, then scowled. You’re smooth as butter, she sarcastically thought.

“I wondered who would be the first down here to see me like this,” Twila’s reply was bitter. “I guess life really has a sense of humor making it you, Jack.”

“What do ya mean by that?” she defensively asked. Shaking her head, she said, “Look, nevermind that. What’s wrong?” Moving and sitting across the table, Jack looked over the bookworm.

Twila raised a finger in a not-so-fast gesture. “Can’t nevermind if you ask what’s wrong.” She threw her hands down on the table. “What’s wrong is that you’re all trusting me! I mean, me! Really? Am I missing the punchline, because it seems like a really poor joke.”

“As compared ta when I nearly got everyone killed at the bank?” Jack bluntly replied. She swallowed, refusing to go back on that train of thought for a third time today. “L-look, Twi. Yer better at plannin’ this than I ever could be. You’ve got the noggin’ fer it. If anyone deserves ta be called boss, it’s you. I--” The farmer narrowed her eyes and tapped hard on the table with her finger. “We trust you because we know you’re the best chance we got on makin’ it out alive if somethin’ goes ta shit. If there’s a punchline ta this whole damn thing, then I’m missin’ it too, pardner.”

Twila turned her back to her as she replied, “And I showed just how good I am at this there, didn’t I? Like you said--for too many of us it was so close...” Her voice broke, but she went on. “Sure, Jack, I’ve got the book smarts. I can make a plan, do the research, calculate the odds--all beforehand, I can make it perfect. But what does that even matter? Even Chylene did a better job at improvising than I did! I can’t...” Another sob. “I c-can’t keep you guys safe. My best friends, and I can’t keep you safe from this.”

She turned and gave Jack the hardest look the farmer had ever seen. They had been through some tough times over the past three years, but Twila had never had a look like that before. It was strong, solid, and yet, Jack was sure if hit in the right place it would shatter to splinters. “I’m not strong like you, Jack. Maybe I can make the plan--but what if I can’t see it through? If any of you were lost... But I’ve already lost someone, remember? My own brother.”

“Then ya make sure he didn’t die in vain,” Jack said, as gently as she could. After a beat, her mouth turned into a thin, grim line. “Ya hit that bitch with all ya got, every chance ya got. Ya take away her money. Ya take away her power, ya take away her children. You take away everything she took from us.” She pointed a finger at Twila. “I know ya, Twi. I know yer the best chance we’ve got ta take care of business. An’ while I might not know much, I know business, ya hear?” Jack wanted to add more, but she couldn’t think of anything. Words had never been her specialty. “...I trust ya, Twi.”

“I hope I can make good on that, Jack,” she said quietly. “I’m grateful to hear you say it, and I’m sure the others would say the same thing but...” Her determined look faded, showing the unease she had been hiding for months. Jack noticed the woman’s fists were clenched so hard they shook. “Everything’s fallen apart since that day. I don’t even know what I’m really doing anymore. I realize now that I’ve been too dependent on everyone else for too long. ...and I’m scared--no, terrified--that that’s changing.”

“Big Brother, I don’t know if I can do this...” came a young girl’s voice from the other room.

The young man laughed, replying with, “That’s a first. My little sister? Not sure she can do something? Am I even awake right now?” He gave another hearty laugh.

A head poked out of the doorway--the girl’s dark hair was up in pigtails, her left dark purple and her right mostly lavender pink from the few stripes of it in her hair. Her face was scrunched up and slightly red from frustration. She’d been getting ready for the past two hours.

“It’s not funny, you big lummox! Today’s a really important day! The rest of my life will be determined by today’s test, and if I mess even the tiniest thing up, I’m going to be miserable forever!” The man gave another laugh, doubling over and holding his sides. She let out a loud growl of frustration and went back inside her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Oh, c’mon, Twily, don’t be so childish. Even if you don’t make the Royal Academy--and we all know you will--there’s tons of options for you. Mom and Dad would be proud of you no matter where you go.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Her response was a bit muffled, so he stepped closer to the door. “Mr. Youngest Valedictorian in a Hundred Years, Clearly Captain Material with Top Honors!”

“That’s not the same thing, Twila. The Military Academy isn’t exclusive, at least not up front. I didn’t have to take a test or anything--just sign my name.”

Silence was the only reply from beyond the door.

“C’mon, Twily--you’re a Shields! And since when did a Shields ever fail at anything they put their mind to?” he said encouragingly.

“...never...” came the girl’s voice, tiny and still mostly unsure. He knew what was going on through her head, the images and stories of their family’s heroic and noble deeds. They’d been his favorite bedtime stories at her age, too.

He opened the door, exclaiming, “Exactly! And Twila Shields is the best of the best!” He found her room completely empty. “Twily?”

There was a faint sniffling sound coming from the far end of the bed. He followed it to find her curled in the space between her bedside table and the wall--he often forgot how small she was for her age. She was crying and clutched her favorite and oldest doll--Smarty Pants--tight to her chest.

“What are you doing, Twily? We’re going to be late if y--”

“I can’t do it!” she cried, cutting him off. “I’m gonna fail, Big Brother! Fail miserably and be a worthless disgrace to the whole family forever and ever!”

He frowned and lowered himself into a kneel in front of her. Looking up, Twila’s breath caught as she saw what the instructors at the Military Academy had seen: the intensity of the truth and concern in his face. She had always been close to her brother; despite their age difference, the two got along immensely. He had always been there for her, always done things with and for her. She knew him, better than most. But even still, seeing his face--all calm and determination, like the knights in the stories her parents told her--still filled her with awe and respect.

“Twily,” he began, his voice firm but caring, “you will never be a disgrace to this family. You will never be worthless. You’re a Shields, but more than that, you’re Twila Shields. Your future is going to be better than you can imagine, I guarantee it.”

She rubbed at her teary eyes and sniffed uselessly to stop her runny nose. “Y-you really think so, Big Brother?”

His smile filled her up from head to toe with warmth and confidence. Rubbing her hair, he said, “I know so, Twily. You’re smarter than me!” She shook her head and he laughed. “No, I mean it.” He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “Cadence tells me that all time.” He stood back up and put on a high-pitched voice. “Lewellyn Shields, you child! Lunkhead! Dolt! Why can’t you be smarter, like your sister? Boys are so frustrating!”

Laughing, Twila grabbed a pillow off her bed at threw it at his head, scoring a direct hit. “Dork! She doesn’t sound like that at all!” Then, half to herself, “You forgot to squeal that last word like she does.”

“Excuse me, I do not squeal, thank you very much,’ came a stern voice from the bedroom’s doorway.

“Cadence!” Twila cried, bowling past her brother to tackle the young woman with her best hug. “I thought you weren’t coming back anymore!” Twila remembered how upset she had been when Cadence had told her she wasn’t going to be babysitting her any longer.

Returning the hug, the young woman said, “How could I not see my favorite little girl--oh, excuse me, young woman--on her big day? Lew and I are going to take you to the exam together, if that’s OK with you?”

Twila jumped up and down in delight, crying, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” She remembered herself--and how grown up she was supposed to be now--and calmed, then she gave both Lew and Cadence knowing looks. “You two can take me, but no mushy stuff until I’m taking the exam, got it?”

Her brother instantly blushed but Cadence merely laughed, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle. Twila grinned broadly. She always loved poking fun at her brother; it was baffling how he always got so worked up over liking Cadence. Twila was sure no one could not like the young woman.

“I promise,” Cadence said, still smiling. Lew’s mouth gaped as he tried to reply, but Cadence shoved at his shoulders in the direction of the door, pushing him out. “Let’s go! The sooner we get there, the sooner we can celebrate your passing with endless ice cream! Lew’s treat, right Twila?”

“Yeah!” the girl cried, running around the pair and out the door, her past fears vanished under the allure of frozen deliciousness.

“Oh...uh, yeah?” Lew said weakly, turning to Cadence. He smirked at her. “Thank you, Cadence. I don’t know how you do that so well.”

She patted him on the back. “It’s simple. I’m a girl, you’re a boy. But also a good big brother, lunkhead.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “I think.”

“Cadence! Big Brotheeeeeeer! Come on, we’ll be late!” cried Twila’s voice, distant.

“Let’s go, lunkhead,” Cadence said, taking Lew by the hand with a smile. Hand in hand, the two hurried out of Twila’s room, their own excitement building to see the promising young girl succeed on her big day.

Twila sat almost dead center in the testing room, surrounded by about two dozen others. Most of them were clearly noble children, the cut of their clothes fine and their noses stuck in various texts for last minute studying. That made Twila feel better--the nobility had access to the best prep schools in the country, so if they were making the very rookie mistake of studying more just before a test, surely she was more than ready.

But she’d been early, so for the last twenty minutes she’d sat amongst the background noise of faint whispers and miniscule movements, debating on what exactly would be in the exam. After the excitement of ice cream had faded, her nerves had returned, worse than before.

Lew doesn’t know, she thought. He’s not stupid but he’s a doer, not a thinker. Then a terrible thought struck her: What if he lied to make me feel better? What if it’s even worse than I thought? Maybe they don’t just fail you, but they torture you for wasting their time!

Just as she decided the best course would be to not take the test at all, the door opened, revealing a stern looking group of adults. The proctors, thought Twila with a gulp.

They entered in silence, two men and a woman, all carrying a large stack of exams.

The woman sat down at the desk at the head of the room, while the men began passing out what appeared to be answer sheets.

Twila nearly yelped when the silence was suddenly broken as the woman said, “Welcome, student candidates. In a moment, you will receive your exam. Every exam is unique, but if you attempt to communicate at any time during the--”

Tuning her out, Twila continually told herself, You’re a Shields, you’re a Shields, you’re a Shields...

“--Shields? Is Twila Shields in attendance?”

Realizing the proctors were doing a roll call, she gave a small yelp and raised her hand lightning fast. “Here, I’m here! Twila Shields, right here!”

“Yes, I can see that. Thank you,” one of the men replied, making a tick on a clipboard.

Twila lowered her hand and blushed. To her left she heard a few chuckles. She turned and saw another girl--probably her age, or a little older--laughing behind a gloved hand. Dark violet eyes catching Twila’s, she moved a pale blue bang from in front of her face, and whispered, “What a loser, this test is in the bag for sure.” Another pair of kids near her laughed.

Sinking into her chair, Twila focused on her desk. She wished she could just disappear or, better yet, magically move herself somewhere else. Anywhere but where she was right now.

A small clap caused her to sit up straight as an exam was tossed onto the desk.

“You have one hour, begin,” called the woman proctor. Immediately, the sound of ruffling paper and scratching pencils filled the room.

Twila sat motionless, too afraid to flip open the test. She knew what she’d find: a list of questions too difficult for her, a test she wasn’t ready--or even worthy--to take. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blue-haired girl from earlier working diligently, her expression haughty. She wasn’t having any issues, it seemed.

“Twily, why haven’t you started yet?” her brother’s voice asked in her head.

I’m too afraid, Big Brother, she replied. I know you said I won’t fail but... What if I do?

Laughter. It was Cadence’s. “The best and brightest little girl ever, fail? I wouldn’t wager Lew’s money on ice cream if it wasn’t a sure bet, Twila.”

“And even if you do, you’ll still be my favorite little sis, Twila. Mom, Dad, Cadence, and me? We’ll all still love you, no matter what.”

Y-you will?

“Always,” said Lew’s voice.

“Always,” said Cadence’s voice.

The blue-haired girl turned to Twila, smirking. She blew a small raspberry, then went back to her test.

Scrunching up her face in anger, Twila picked up her pencil and opened the exam booklet. She signed her name with a flourish--she’d practiced for weeks--and read the first question.

Please name the three founders of the modern day Torani monarchy. Explain the unique cultural influences they brought with them and the lasting eff--is this it? she thought, astounded. That’s easy!

Twila was baffled--everything she had ever heard had called this one of the most rigorous and difficult entrance exams in the nation. But it was all so basic! Sure, the questions wanted in depth and well thought out answers, but that was just details, wasn’t it? As she quickened her pace, Twila was still surprised. Though the questions got more difficult further in, it was still easy for her.

For a moment, she paused, worry gripping her again. What if her finding it too easy was a problem? Again, she carefully looked over to the blue-haired girl. Her pencil was down, her forehead scrunched and sweating. Twila watched her eyes go back and forth over the same question again and again.

Twila felt a bit smug, though she knew it was wrong to do so. Deciding she couldn’t worry over every little thing all the time, she continued with the test.

She’d reached the final page, which consisted of just one large essay question, and was finishing up when she heard a man’s voice call out, “Time. Pencil’s down and tests closed, please.”

Carefully marking her last period, Twila did so and sat with her hands together. She glanced around--most of the others looked as nervous as she had been when she entered. A few looked relieved, like Twila did. The blue-haired girl--Twila wished she knew her name so she could stop thinking of her like that--seemed somewhere in between.

Twila watched as all the tests were taken up by one of the men. The woman proctor spoke, “Please return to the auditorium and await your assessment. Anyone who leaves will automatically be disqualified. You’re dismissed.”

With little alternative, Twila got up with the others and herded out of the classroom. She looked for that one girl to ask her name, but being shorter than most, she lost sight of her. When she got back to the auditoreum, where Lew and Cadence were waiting for her, she still couldn’t find the girl anywhere.

She told Lew she had to wait, so the three all sat down and did so.

Lew frowned. Twila had sat in silence for nearly two hours. She didn’t look particularly upset--at least not in any way he’d seen from her before--but he was still a little worried. After an hour, the students had begun being called, receiving their assessments. And finding out if they were accepted or denied. Lew didn’t know how many spots the Royal Academy had open each year, but only two of the would-be students had left happy so far.

He felt a squeeze on his hand. Smiling at Cadence, he mouthed, “Thank you.” and gave her hand a light squeeze back. She always paid such good attention to those around her, giving them just what she thought they needed to feel better. She’d been as quiet about Twila as he had, so she didn’t seem worried. It still baffled him how girls could do that, no matter the age.

Despite her reassurances, his patience had nearly run dry. But just as he opened his mouth, the door opened, revealing the woman proctor. “Twila Shields?”

Looking to her brother and Cadence, who both shrugged, she replied, “R-right here, ma’am.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting. This is a very unusual situation.”

“And exactly what sort of situation are we talking about here?” asked Lew.

The proctor shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s only for Miss Shields to know at the moment. Please, Miss Grania, do sit down,” the woman told Cadence, who had risen to berate the frustrating proctor. “In fifteen minutes, you’ll have your answers. But for now, Miss Shields?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Twila asked, trepidation in her voice.

“Come with me, please.”

“A-alright,” she said simply. Getting up, she raised a hand to stop her brother from doing the same. “Be right back, OK, Big Brother?”

“Yeah, Twily. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

Cadence gave her a smile which Twila returned before leaving with the proctor.

The proctor led Twila down a dizzying number of corridors. She was certain, if the woman had abandoned her, Twila would be lost forever. She thought about asking where they were going or how much longer it would take to get there, but the serious face the woman wore kept the young girl quiet. The only sound was the echo of their steps on the pristine white tile and Twila’s own rapid heartbeat.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the proctor stopped and gestured to a door. “Right through there, then.”

Tilting her head, Twila ventured to ask, “Um, what’s in there?”

“The results of your exam,” the woman said, giving a small smile. She looked like she had told some sort of joke. It made Twila even more nervous. Giving Twila a look, the proctor snapped, “Well, go on then! We don’t have all night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Twila replied, approaching the door. It didn’t look like a torture room door. But then, Twila didn’t know if those had a special look or not. Reaching out to take the doorknob, she gulped. If she was in any real trouble or danger, her brother would save her. That’s what big brothers did, after all.

With a bit more confidence and visions of her brother taking on royal guards to save her filling her imagination, she twisted the knob and opened the door.

The room beyond was a simple meeting room, possibly an empty classroom. It was empty, save for a small table and two chairs. The far wall was one large window--Twila had never seen anything so simple yet elegant. Against the left wall hung two chalkboards, complete with rollers suggesting they covered two more. The whole room smelled faintly of chalk and perspiration.

At the table sat a woman Twila knew very, very well. In fact, she was pretty sure everyone in the whole world knew this woman. She was tall, probably about six feet or so, and beautiful beyond anything Twila had ever imagined. Her skin was pale, but not unhealthy, and it set off her light- and multi-hued hair--which stretched nearly to the floor--very well, giving it the impression that it seemed to move, despite the lack of a breeze. She wore a warm smile that seemed to light up the room more than the lights above, and her eyes matched it, their light purple sheen showing the well-known intelligence and kindness she was admired for possessing.

Her mouth went dry as she froze. Twila couldn’t believe what her eyes were registering to her mind, so she simply stood in the doorway and stared.

The smile turned her way, and, her voice just as beautiful as would be expected, the woman said, “Hello, Twila. My name is Celestia Eliane Orlaith--I’m going to be your caretaker and personal instructor, beginning tomorrow.”