Wind Makes Water Dance, Making Fire Burn

Have you ever witnessed a tourist going through your town? The way that they gawk at everything, how everyplace and thing you typically take for granted is something new, something wondrous in their eyes? The kind of reactions that make you moan, internally or externally? Yeah, Sweetie Belle Carousel is seeing this at just this moment.

She and her two friends, Applebloom Apple and Scootaloo, were out doing Cutie Mark Crusader activities. The bulk of these activities were in the sale of Crusader Cookies, arguably the best sweets made in town, though a debate could be made in regard to anything Sugarcube Corner could make. They were all dressed in their Crusader uniforms, and gleefully selling cookies to passersby.

The “tourist” in question was a girl of about their age, Sweetie Belle assumed. Ang, boy, what a get up she had on. If Little Miss Toffet, Pippy Longstocking, and Daring Do had been mashed together in a genetic experiment gone wrong, then this girl was the result. (Sweetie's older sister would have a conniption fit about the girls attire, let alone the cane that reminded Sweetie of a shepherd.) This girl was gawking at everything in town, like it was her first time here. The pinks in her clothes did nothing to make her blend in with the Canterlot crowd, though there were a few people whose skin tone matched a few pieces.

As the buyers thinned out around the diminishing stock of Crusader Cookies the trio had, Sweetie noticed the girl looking at them. As the last customer walked away with their confections, the girl stepped up to the trio, a bright smile on her face, plus a spring (or two) in her step. Sweetie took in her form, as well as the almost comically large handbag the girl was carrying. It would put anything Rarity had to shame.

“Top o’ th’ mornin to ya!” The girl beamed, “is’n too late fer me to grab some cookies? I’m right starved after skimping on bre’kf’st this mornin’.”

“Uhh,” Scootaloo began, “I think so?”

“Well, do ya ‘r dontcha?” The girl inquired, “I have pocket money burnin’ a hole in me satchel. Imma cravin’ sugar of the baked variety, if’n ya catch me meanin’.”

“Applebloom, are you catching anything this girl is saying?” Scootaloo asked her country compatriot.

“I think so,” Applebloom replied, “sounds like she wants cookies.”

“Aye, lassie, I do!” The girl confirmed.

“Well, uh,” Sweetie added, “we have some Starswirl Gingerbread cookies left… Uh, some Smart Cookie Cookies (that’s a little on the nose,) and some Clover Clever Mallow Bars. Sorry, that’s all we have left.”

“The gingerbread, please,” the girl stated, “cuz of me ginger head!”

“Uh, sure,” Applebloom complied, finding the last few boxes of the gingerbread cookies, “that’ll be $20.”

“Right ye are!” the girl exclaimed, then digging in her satchel, she produced a pair of crisp ten dollar bills. She handed them over the Scootaloo, who was manning their strongbox/till, and took the cookies with eager fingers.

“Aye, me boyos, yer goin’ right into me belly!” the girl stated.

“Hey,” Sweetie said as the girl happily retreated from them, “I don’t think I’ve seen you in town before. We know all the girls our age, but we’ve never seen you before.”

“Oh, right,” the girl replied, “I dunno get out inta the town much. Me brother is goin’ to throw a right fit once he learns where I’ve been. I’m Molly, Molly McAllister.”

“Oh, nice,” Sweetie Belle said, “I’m Sweetie Belle. These are my friends, and fellow Crusaders, Applebloom and Scootaloo.”

“Howdy!”

“Hey!”

“Allo!” Molly cried, “say, you lot live here in town, no? Are ye busy right now?”

“Ta be honest, no,” Applebloom answered, “we were only goin’ to be sellin’ cookies and sweets for an hour ‘r two, then head on home. Applejack ain’t needin’ me on th’ farm today, so I’m free. And we do have the day off, cuz it’s Saturday… Scoots, are you doin’ anythin’?”

“Can’t say that I am,” replied Scootaloo, “Sweetie Belle?”

“I have a six o’ clock curfew,” Sweetie informed them, “and my mom said I should return home as soon as I was done here… but Rarity is in a crafting session for a new client. I really shouldn’t disturb her, so- yeah, I have the afternoon!”

“Brilliant, it’s settled!” Molly beamed, “so, what do girls our age do on a Saturday aft’rnoon?”

All eyes turned on Applebloom, who, as an unwritten rule amongst the trio, was the de facto leader, while the young farm girl pondered.

“I might have an idea or two…”

“YEEHAW!”

“THIS IS AWESOME!”

“I THINK I’M GOING TO BE SICK!”

“AS’M I AND IT’S FECKIN’ BRILLIANT!

The challenge had been issued: spin the merry-go-round as fast you could then hang on for dear life. Molly had the first turn of the quartet, and her attempt was middling at best. Scootaloo had the next turn and she certainly gave it her all; it was enough to turn Sweetie Belle and Molly green. Sweetie went third and- well, it was a well meaning attempt but her heart, well her arms, weren’t really in it. Applebloom was Tail-end Charlie and- well, the girls were very close into entering a parallel dimension right now.

The whole playground at Canterlot Central Park were watching the girls spin so quickly, their forms were melding into a splotch of brown. Cheers were heard from the older kids in the crowd, while the young ones watch in rapt awe. Let it never be said that Applebloom was a weak girl. Hours and hours of picking apples and hauling bushels around had given the upper body strength of roughly a defensive lineman. Granted, that was nothing to the feats her older sister or brother could do, but it was mighty impressive all the same.

“UH-OH!” Scootlaoo warned, "THINGS ARE GETTING- WOBBBLLLLYYYYY!”

“ABANDON SHIP!” Sweetie Belle cried.

All four girls launched themselves from their conveyance with all the alacrity they could muster. Their trajectories put them into the sandbox adjacent to the merry-go-round, but given their exit velocity, they may as well slammed into a stack of two-by-fours. None of the quartet escaped their doom without a fit of nausea; Sweetie, once the world stopped spinning enough for her to stand, retched over the sandbox’s side. Applebloom tried to stand, was upright for a moment, fell, stood again, became unbalanced, fell again. Scootaloo was uninterested in moving, as evidenced by her lying in the sand, barely breathing. For all she knew, her eyeballs were spinning around in her sockets. Molly, though, was cackling, as though she had finally lost what sanity she had.

“Oh, lordee, oh jeezus, methinks I’m goin’ vom!” Molly wheezed.

“In the grass please,” Scootaloo moaned, “I’m still seeing the world through a kaleidoscope…”

“I can’t stand,” Applebloom lamented, “I don’t know whatever possessed us to do that.”

“Not so loud,” Sweetie Belle squeaked, “my brain is trying to leak through my ears. All the sounds- hurt!”

“Oi, you lassies are a regular riot, I says,” Molly wheezed, “cannae get that kind o’ value back at th’ Academy! Ha-ha!”

“Academy?” Scootaloo asked, her eyes now capable of focusing on permeable objects, “you mean Crystal Prep?”

“Nay,” Molly said, “not them nonces. Imperial Academy, to th’ west! Great big for’st all ‘round, nary any civilization for several county miles!”

“That- actually sounds like it might be fun,” Sweetie Belle said, now fully recovered, “but you said you don’t have any kids your age out there.”

“Aye,” Molly replied, sitting up, sand still clinging to her strange pinafore, “at least, none that think they can stand aside me, given me position.”

“Position?” Scootaloo asked, “What are you? Captain of some club or sports team?”

“Eh, something of a kind,” Molly answered, though to Sweetie Belle, that answer seemed like a dodge.

“MOLLY CATHERINE ELIZABETH MCALLISTER, IF’N I FIND YA BEFORE YOU FIND ME, IMMA TANNIN’ YER HIDE!”

“What the-?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Ugh, ‘tis me brother,” Molly replied, “an’ he used me full name. Imma in the creek now.”

“Why is he so mad?” Applebloom asked.

“Let’s just say, Imma not old enough to go out onto the town by meself,” Molly explained, “me brother is kind enough to me, but he is adamant that I dunnae come in Canterlot without him or me step-sister in two. He’ll have me at a right two-an’-eight if I dunnae come to him first.”

“Do you know where he is?” Sweetie asked.

Molly closed her eyes, put on a face of ure concentration, before her eyes sprang open. When she spoke, her voice sounded far off, like she was speaking from beyond their current environs.

“Down the street, ‘round the corner, his car is parked across from a shop that sells sofas. And pens? That dunnae make a lick o’ sense…!”

“Quills and Sofas!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, “you remember? Old Mr. Davenport’s shop?”

“You mean the place we can’t set foot in after we accidentally burned down three of his sofas?”

“How in the bloody ‘ell did you lot do that?” Molly queried.

“It’s a long story, so don’t ask,” Applebloom said.

“We know a shortcut,” Sweetie offered, “so that you don't get into any more trouble than you already have.”

“Imma linkin’ that idea,” Molly beamed, “shall we be off?”

Danny McAllister hated the idea of borrowing his step-sister’s Escalade. Sure, it was a comfortable ride, with one bangning sound system, and all the doodads and whatsits one could ask for. But Danny was a more practical man, who preferred a more sensible mode of transit. He was hard pressed to part with his Gold Wing, but Molly was small enough that she could slide right off it. Also, with Meghan along for the ride, the three of them wouldn’t fit, even if the motorbike’s seat was made for cruising with oversized people. (Meghan’s insistence that come along for this retrieval necessitated the large, spacious SUV, seeing as the both of them were carrying their personal firearms and the Escalade was fitted with armor plating and bullet proof glass.)

Another thing he hated was the deception his kid sister pulled on him. Sure, she was almost a teenager now, but given her intellect, she was also prone to gullibility. Who knew what villain would suggest she do in the sake of having a bit of fun or for some treat she could get wholesale back at the Academy? Mark his words, Molly McAllister was going to feel it when she went to bed tonight. His mother made him promise he would protect his little sister with everything he had. Those were the last words she said to him before the Adjudicators- no, not going back there. Too much pain, too much anger, it was a wound still fresh and seeping for him.

“Any luck?” came a voice from the car.

“Nay,” Danny answered, “if’n she ain’t here in five minutes, Imma searchin’ fer her an if-”

“Danny!” came Molly’s voice from around the corner.

“H-e-double-lacrosse-sticks, Molly, where th' D’vil have ya been?!”

Molly approached her angered half-brother, alongside three girls Danny didn’t know. The three were in some club uniform of some sort, one of the kiddy civilian organizations that Molly sometimes pesters him about. What was the name-?

“Excuse, Mr. Danny?”

“Eh?” the boy in question bemused.

“Hi. We’re, uh, we’re friends of your sister, Molly,” the girl said, with the puffy hair style that seemed to defy gravity.

“Oi, are ye now,?” Danny asked, “an’ what be yer names, eh?”

“I’m Applebloom.”

“I’m Scootaloo.”

“I’m Sweetie Belle!”

“I’m still hungry.”

“Molly,” Danny said to his little sister, but then a door opened and closed. From around the front of the SUV stepped a young woman, wrapped in a chrysanthemum kimono, a silver circlet woven into her blonde tresses. She carried herself with pose, grace, and power. The Crusaders watched as Danny and Molly bowed their heads in her presence.

“Hello,” the young woman said, “I’m Meghan, Molly’s older half sister. I do hope my baby sister wasn't causing you any trouble.”

“Ma- Meghan!” Molly seethed, not daring to look up.

“Not at’ll!” Applebloom offered, "Molly is actually the first friend we done made outside o’ Canterlot!”

“She's fun!” Scootaloo said.

“She bought the last of our Swirlswirl the Bearded Gingerbread cookies!” Sweetie Belle added.

“Oh, did she now?” Meghan asked, “well, I do hope she has room for her dinner. We’re having her favorite, chicken cattoire, and I was going to remind her earlier that for desert, we have strawberry sherbet.”

“No, not strawberry sherbet…!”

“Well, I don’t think that will be a problem,” Sweetie Belle opined.

“Why not?” Meghan asked.

“Well, Molly didn't really get into her cookies,” Sweetie explained, “she only had two from her first box before we decided to go to the park-”

“And go down th’ slide-” Applebloom added.

“Jump roped,” Scootaloo said.

“And eventually rode the merry-go-round. With less than stellar results,” Sweetie completed.

“Is- is this true, Molly?” Meghan asked of her sister.

“Y-y-yes, everythin’.”

“Well, I’ll say,” Meghan beamed, “that’s- actually more exercise in a few hours than Molly has gotten all year!”

“Meghan?!” Danny asked.

“Danny, you know as well as I do that Molly doesn't have any peers her age,” Meghan began, “and the training facilities at The Academy are more about conditioning than fun. It’s good to hear that Molly enjoyed herself and made some new friends! Otherwise, she’d just be glued to the monitor in her dorm room coding and getting a gamer’s tan. You- are her friends, right?”

“Darn tootin’!” Applebloom offers, before a blush forms over her face, her hands fly to her mouth, and she adds, “pardon my French.”

“I think Molly has heard worse,” Meghan laughs, “either from myself or her brother.”

“OI!” Danny yells, “donnae be ropin’ me in with this!”

“Come on, Danny,” Meghan begs, “you can't look me in the eye and tell you haven’t cursed a few times in Molly’s presence?”

“I- well- What I mean is-” Danny sputtered, “confound you, woman.”

“That’s what I thought,” Meghan smiled, “well, that’s it for you today, young lady! You gave Danny and I a combined cardiac infarction. No note! No itinerary!! You didn’t bring your Lantern! Scared me half to death… How did you even get here?”

“I walked to the bus stop,” Molly answered in a subdued tone, “caught that inta town.”

“Huh,” Meghan huffed, “well, this one time, and only this one time, you will be forgiven this indiscretion. Seeing as you made some friends and actually had some exercise, I think we can bypass a grounding. But there had better not be a recurrence, you hear me?”

“Aye, Matron,” Molly breathed, “I’ll go through prop’r channels.”

“Alright then,” Meghan said, relieved, “Applebloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, thank you for taking care of my sister. I hope she wasn’t too much of a handful.”

“Will, uh,” Scootaloo stammered, “will we ever see Meghan again?”

“Maker willing, yes,” Meghan answered, “also provided Molly behaves herself in the near future. I have no doubt you three know what that’s like.”

All three girls nodded, with Sweetie Belle and Appleblom raining a small torrent of sand.

“Then I see no problem with her visiting with you again. Maybe for a whole day!” Meghan said, “but for now, we need to get home and eat, as I have no doubt you all must.”

“You got that right,” Scootaloo said, “my aunts are going to kill me if I’m late for dinner again.”

“Then we have an agreement,” Meghan stated, “ta-ta for now! Don’t go getting yourselves in trouble, okay?”

“OKAY!”

With that, Meghan got into the passenger side of the SUV. Danny hopped into the driver’s seat, and Molly hopped in behind Danny. Sweetie was unsure if the other girls saw, but there was a guy sitting just behind Meghan- and Molly was utterly surprised to see him there. All Sweetie Belle can digest before the door closed and the SUV drove off, was a mop of red hair and glasses. And a hammer, for some reason…

The Escalade had just reached the city limites when Meghan spoke, “I want to be cross with you.”

“Meghan, will you give the girl a break?” Steve said, fiddling a little with Mjlonir.

“Are you defending her actions?” Meghan asked.

“No,” Steve answered, “but try to look at it from her perspective. No, try to look at it from your perspective.”

“What are you talking about?” Meghan queried.

“You, Molly, Danny, myself, we are the top members of our respective houses. That kind of societal elevation- it does something to people. I don’t know what to call it; Tall Poppy Syndrome, the Icarus Gambit, the Crumbling Pillar Scenario, whatever. The thing is, there aren't many people in our position that want to friends with us because of our status.”

“So, you’re saying,” Meghan began, “that Molly is lonely because she is The First Sage?”

“Yes,” Steven replied, “and then some. I mean, how often do you get people who are sincere in their offer of friendship? I know I get a few requests an hour about that, but most of those are glory hounds, status seekers, gold diggers. And Molly has it worse because of her age! I wouldn't be surprised if she isn’t dealing with Imposter Syndrome.”

“Steve,” Molly begged, “please, I don’t need ya fightin’ me battles…”

“I’m not, Molly,” Steven retorted, “I’m just trying to shed some wisdom on this situation.”

“Hmm,” Meghan mused, “I can see your point.”

“That’s funny,” Danny added, “I don’t.”

“Danny, you have all the tact and emotion of a ten penny nail,” Meghan growled, “in any case, I can see what you mean, Grand Archmage. Molly has few peers her age that she can confide in, have fun with. Her immediate subordinates are just that: subordinates. And almost ten years her senior.”

“Thanks fer remindin’ me,” Molly quipped.

“Sorry, Molls,” Meghan said, “I guess when it comes down to it, you need people with whom you can decompress. Danny, Steve, and myself have our methods, but you might be lacking in them. I- I may be amiable to allowing you one weekly trip into Canterlot to visit your new friends.”

“R-really?!” Molly squeaked.

“Yes, provided you do your homework, finish your chores and leave a note when you go into town,” Meghan answered, “I’m also adding the proviso that Steve drives you there.”

“WHAT?!” Molly and Danny bellowed.

“Steve has a truck,” Meghan said, “it isn’t as nice as the Escalade, but it seems sufficient, and it is, as far as we know, unknown to your newfound friends. He’ll drop you off near the park. You must take your smartdevice with you so you contact him or myself when you need extraction or if you ever run into a problem. Understood?”

“Yes, Matron.”

“Okay,” Meghan said brightly, “we have a settlement! Danny, make this old girl strut. I’m hungry and I can’t wait to get home.”

“Goin’ as fast as is legal, Matron,” Danny complied.

“Do we have any bears in the woods?” Meghan asked.

“That’s a negative,” Steve replies, “we’re clear for ten more klicks, then there’s a Statie within spitting distance of the Academy. And… a game warden. Must be that time of year, again.”

“Okay, Danny, punch it,” Meghan says, “Steve will keep us apprised of legal trouble.”

“Aye, Matron,” Danny replies, “let us ride the phooka!”