Wonderbolt

Chapters

Chapter One- The Colt Who Fell
Chapter Two- Trial and Error
Chapter Three- Through the Ringer

Chapter One- The Colt Who Fell

Wonderbolt

Chapter One- The Colt Who Fell

By Feather Scratch

Somepony once said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I bet whoever said that didn’t intend for that “single step” to be straight off the edge of a cliff, but I’ve always been the pragmatic type. How else was I supposed to go so far without taking a second step?

My name is Bolt. I’m an Earth Pony. That might not sound terribly significant, after all, a third of the entire population are Earth Ponies. But when both your parents are Pegasi from Cloudsdale, that one little, insignificant fact suddenly becomes a real problem.

~~~

“Catch him! For the love of Celestia, somepony catch him!”

I’d imagine for most ponies, their earliest memories would be of enormous, smiling faces all crowding around to get a good look at them, or of colourful mobiles, gently spinning overhead to the accompaniment of soft, lulling melodies. My earliest memory was of the sky falling.

I remember the whistling of the air as it blew past my ears. I remember the fluffy, white clouds getting smaller and smaller as the sky got bigger. I remember the group of Pegasi screaming and crying as they tried desperately to get to me. But most of all, I remember the joy, the indescribable charge pulsing through every fibre of my being. For those first few, all too fleeting moments of my life, I was one with the endless sky. Then, just as the leaves of the treetops brushed my cheek, my Dad caught me and my life on the ground began.

~~~

The weather team was on fine form, as always. Last night’s storm was a doozey but it had taken no time at all for the trained Pegasi to all but rid the sky of every last cloud. I watched as a blue mare with a spiky, yellow mane and tail, hid behind one of the few remaining storm clouds and held back a fit of laughter with a hoof pressed firmly over her mouth. A moment of scanning the sky, and a wide grin spread across my face as I realised what was about to happen. A cyan stallion with a prismatic mane was approaching the cloud, totally unaware of the mare’s presence. All he had to do was get a little closer and-

SMACK

An all too familiar, sharp pain flared in the back of my head. “Oww! Geez Mister Glockinpie, what was that for?” I rubbed the back of my head where my boss’s notorious “Ruler of Punishment,” which he used to “straighten out” his apprentices, made contact.

The elderly, bespectacled Earth Pony sheathed his ruler, like a sword, in his vest pocket. “I don’t pay you to stand around with your head in the clouds, I pay you to work!”

“You don’t pay me at all, sir.”

“Oh I don’t, don’t I?” I’ve got to hoof it to the old bag of bones. He may take upwards of twenty minutes to retrieve a customer’s order from the back room, but, when he wanted to, he could move so fast, I’d swear he was part Unicorn. Like, for example, when I said something I shouldn’t have and he goes from being several feet away, to being right in my face without seeming to travel through the space between. “You don’t think taking you in, feeding you and teaching you a trade is payment enough?”

“No sir. I mean, yes sir! I mean... sorry sir.” I hung my head in deference to my master and fought the urge to turn around as the sound of a thunderbolt firing off and a stallion giving a very fillyish yelp to the raucous guffaws of a mare rang out across the sky.

“That’s better.” Mister Glockinpie hobbled over to my workbench and examined the cogs I had been busy with before I got distracted.

I’m pretty sure when my parents wanted to name their colt “Bolt,” they had something other than “Clockmaker’s Apprentice” in mind. Still, it was a strangely fitting name, considering I spent most of my time at the forge, making all the nuts, bolts, cogs and miscellaneous components that go into my master’s finished pieces.

With a grunt that usually meant he couldn’t find anything to complain about, Mister Glockinpie threw down the cogs and glanced out the window. He was just in time to see the retreating forms of the Pegasi before they disappeared, scuffling, into the distance.

He turned back to me, took off his glasses and carefully polished them on his vest, shaking his head and giving a weary sigh. “Forget about it kid.” He said in a much gentler tone than usual. “She’s out of your league.”

I bristled a little at the insinuation, but kept my composure. “What makes you think I was looking at the mare?”

“What makes you think I was talking about the mare?” He crossed the room and settled into his rocking chair, wincing with every creak and pop from his arthritic joints. “You may have been born in the sky kid, but you belong on the ground, and unless you go magically sprouting wings over night, that’s never gonna change. Be grateful for what you have, and stop pining after what’ll never happen.”

I looked back out the window at the now clear, blue sky and took a deep breath, stilling all thoughts in my mind. I willed that expansive ocean of pristine blue to become my entire world. My heart rate began to increase, my nerves tingled. It looked so close, as though I could just step out the window and fall, up and away from the world and all the cares that came with it. All I had to do was spread my... I blinked and I was back in the workshop. Wings. That was it. That was what it always came down to. The one thing I needed to achieve my dream of touching the sky was the one thing I could never have.

I sighed and turned back to my work. “Be grateful for what I have” he said. What I had was a talent for making things and a dream of falling that woke me up every night with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment. “Be grateful” he said.

~~~

My hooves beat a steady rhythm into the cobbles as I made my way out of Ponyville for my final delivery of the day. With my master’s back not being what it used to, these days I made all the deliveries. I couldn’t complain. It got me out of the workshop for a while. In certain cases, I even looked forward to it, like when I had to deliver a set of custom watches to the race track outside of town, where the Pegasi practiced their competitive flying.

The sound of cheering filled the air as I approached the track. I was just in time to see the same cyan stallion from the other day cross the finish line, a good body length ahead of his closest rival. I felt the joy rise in my chest at the spectacle and joined in with the cheering, stomping my hooves and hollering until my throat was hoarse. He was incredible! He moved so fast that, to the naked eye, he was nothing more than a technicoloured blur!

The stallion skidded to a halt, just as the brilliant rainbow he left in his wake began to fade. I waited until the cheering and adulation died down before I approached. Having a package to deliver seemed like a good excuse to strike up a conversation. “Hey there. I have a delivery here for the flight club. You know who I should take it to?”

The stallion threw a towel over his shoulders and turned to face me. “Uh, yeah.” His eyes glazed over when he saw I wasn’t a Pegasus. He wasn’t obvious about it. They never were. But I had seen that look too many times to miss it. Pegasi, especially the athletic type, were competitive by nature. They would spend as little time as possible around Unicorns and Earth Ponies. Not because they were prejudice or antisocial, but because there simply wasn’t any sport to be had with non-fliers. “Blue Streak can sign for that. Come on, I’ll take you to her.”

As we set out to find Blue Streak, we passed by, what looked to be dozens of Pegasi, all working hard on a range of wing-based exercises. “I’m Bolt, by the way.”

“Spectrum.”

“I caught the tail end of the race there. That was a seriously impressive turn of speed.”

“It wasn’t too bad, I guess.” Spectrum grinned and held his head high. “Of course, that was just a practice run. Just wait until the competition this summer. I’ll be so fast, they’ll need a magic replay just to prove I moved at all!”

“You know Specs, with all your bragging about being so fast, it’s no wonder you still don’t have a marefriend.” Just as we were passing a pair doing two feathered push-ups, while alternately laying on each other’s backs, the mare from the other day trotted up to meet us. She was wearing a coach’s cap, a whistle and an amused smirk. “Besides, you keep promising a Sonic Rainboom and in all the years I’ve known you, you have yet to pull it off.”

“Hey! I’m this close.” He held his forehooves up, just a hair’s breadth from each other, squinting for emphasis. “By the time the competition rolls around, I’ll have it nailed.”

“Uh huh.” The mare’s face went deadpan and she cocked an eyebrow. “Well, I’ll just hold my breath, shall I? In the mean time, why don’t you go help Dervish nail his barrel role? We’ve already lost three score boards, and we can’t afford to keep forking out for new ones.”

Spectrum gave an exasperated sigh, but, half-heartedly saluted and turned to leave. He paused, for a moment to jerk his head in my direction. “Oh, this is Bolt, by the way. He has some package for the club. Bolt, this is Blue Streak, the lovable tyrant we call 'Coach.' She can take it off your hooves.” With introductions made, he jumped into the air and flew off, just in time to avoid a playful swat from Blue Streak’s cap.

“Sorry about him. He can be a little full of himself sometimes.” She ran a hoof through her mane and gave me a friendly smile. I wasn’t lying the other day when I told Mister Glockinpie I wasn’t looking at the mare, but, seeing her up close, I knew where my attention would be focused next time. Her electric yellow mane was cut shorter than average, causing it to stick out in regular spikes, but still just long enough to fall back in layered waves. Her big, bright eyes matched her mane and her azure blue coat was the perfect compliment. She had a lightning bolt cutie mark and a lean physique it took considerable will power not to stare at. “Oh, these must be the new watches we ordered!”

She took the box from my unprotesting hooves and I couldn’t help but snort in amusement as she tore into it with all the glee of a foal with a Hearth’s Warming present. Pulling out one of the little bronze discs, her eyes lit up and she made the cutest noise in the back of her throat, something between a giggle and a squeal. “So, we can really use these to record our times, right down to the second, without even having to pay attention?”

“Right down to the quarter second, actually.” I held my head up proudly. Making watches may not have been what I wanted to do with my life, but that was no reason not to take pride in a job well done. “I forged the parts myself. Just push the button on top once to go and again to stop. Couldn’t be simpler.”

She was bouncing on the spot as I finished my explanation “Oh, oh, oh, I’ve got to try this!” She grabbed my hoof and dragged me over to the race track. Hoofing me the watch, she hopped into position at the starting line and lowered her head, her snout barely an inch from the ground. Her eyes gleamed. “Ready!”

My heart began to hammer in my chest. I may not have been the one flying, but I was about to take part in a race! I cleared my throat and tried to sound as official as possible. “O-okay, ready. Going in three, two, one... Go!” I pushed the button just in time to stumble and fall on my rump as the force of Blue’s take off nearly threw me clean off my hooves.

I thought Spectrum was fast? No sooner had I clambered back onto my hooves than I had to frantically hit the button again as Blue crossed the line at a speed that made her name seem positively humble by comparison. As she trotted over to me, grinning ear to ear, sparks of electricity danced all along her frame. She had moved so fast she had actually built up a static charge from air friction alone! “So, how’d I do?”

I glanced down at the watch. “You completed the track in... 9.75 seconds. That’s incredible!”

She grabbed the watch to see for herself and squealed when she saw the pin-point accurate time. “This is so awesome! With these, we’ll be able to work out all our kinks in time for the competition.” Then, much to my surprise, she threw her forelegs round me in a tight hug. “Thank you, so much!”

I wanted to return the hug but, this kind of thing didn’t happen to me often. As a result, my mutinous legs remained firmly anchored to the ground and, in the end, I had to settle for a pathetic, “Y-you’re welcome.”

Giggling, she broke the hug and skipped back over to the box to unpack the rest of the watches. I coughed and followed, my stride a little stiffer than usual. Talking to mares was a lot harder than I thought. I regularly dreamed of plummeting to my doom and it filled me with ecstasy. I could forge gears as small and fine as snowflakes with perfectly steady hooves. But one touch from Blue and I froze, too petrified to even return a simple gesture of gratitude. I hoped she didn’t notice. Perhaps a change of subject was in order. “So... What’s this big competition you guys keep mentioning?”

She looked up from the box, positively shaking with excitement. “It’s called the “Best Young Flier Competition.” Princess Celestia just came up with it as a way of reaching out to the Gryphons. It’s really more a showcase of skill than a real competition, but we all get to show off our stuff for the Princess herself! Not to mention, all the fancy party ponies from Canterlot and the delegates from the Gryphon Kingdom will be there. In the end, whoever the Princess and the Gryphon ambassador decide is the best young flier gets to have a private dinner with them at the palace!”

I whistled and scratched my head. That sounded pretty major. Relations between Equestria and the Gryphon Kingdom had been strained ever since the border skirmishes a few years ago. If this contest was supposed to be some form of olive branch, then any pony that competed would have to be absolutely confident in their abilities. Success could mean a lasting peace, but even the slightest slip up would be showing weakness in front of a potential enemy.

I glanced around at all the Pegasi, pushing themselves to the limit. Not a single one looked nervous. Did they not grasp just how serious the contest was? Was the prize and adulation all they cared about? For once in my life, I caught myself thinking how glad I was that I wasn’t one of them.

A tap on my shoulder snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to see Blue looking at me expectantly. Had I missed something? “Sorry, what? Must have zoned out for a second.”

Blue giggled. “I was asking about signing. You know,” she jerked her head at the, now empty, box, “for the package?”

“Oh... Right!” I fumbled in my saddle bag for a moment, before producing my clipboard with the delivery notice. I passed it to her and turned back to my saddle bag to get a quill and ink. I found the ink but... “Darn it! Forgot to bring a quill. I guess we could use a stick or something?”

“Oh, no need!” Extending a wing, Blue yanked out one of her feathers. “Dis’ll do.” A minute later I had packed away the signed notice and was about to leave, when felt something wedge itself behind my ear. I looked up, and there was Blue’s feather. “A little souvenir. Thanks again!”

I stared after her as she flew off to put the new watches to good use. I raised a hoof, almost unconsciously, to brush the feather behind my ear. A small smile crossed my face. I liked this souvenir.

~~~

The sky was falling. My skin tingled with electricity and my veins surged with adrenaline. The wind shrieking in my ears snatched away the sound of my voice as I tried to scream for help. I kicked and flailed my useless limbs, trying to slow my descent. I snatched at clouds, which dissipated into vapour at the touch of my heavy hooves. The sky wasn’t falling. I was.

I spun away from the open sky to see the ground, looming, ever larger, growing to meet me. I screamed and cried out for help. I begged the world to give me something, anything to stop me from falling.

A flicker of blue in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned around, and there, falling right alongside me, was my souvenir. I knew in my heart, that was it. My salvation. If I could just get to Blue’s feather, I’d never hit the ground.

It was a fair distance away and the ground was coming up fast. One way or another, this would be close. I tucked my legs tight against my barrel and threw all my weight towards the feather. I may not be able to fly, but maybe I could change the angle of my fall. It wouldn’t have to be much, just enough to bring me within hoof’s reach of my target.

I reached out a hoof as I drew closer and closer. This was it, just a few more feet! The leaves of treetops brushed my cheek. The feather was right there! All I had to do was reach out and-

I shot up in bed, screaming. Panting heavily, sweat dripping from my brow, I rubbed my eyes and willed my heart rate to settle. The dream again, but different. It had never been so vivid, and never before had I been presented with a way to stop the fall. The feather.

I scrambled out of bed and made my way over to the desk by the window. The feather rested on top of my saddle bags, where I had left it. It stood out, a bright splash of colour against the dull, earthen tones of the workshop. I picked it up and held it in the path of the moonlight, running my eyes along every tiny fibre.

I almost wanted to laugh. In my dream, I was so convinced that, just by grasping this one feather, I wouldn’t need to fear falling to the ground. Pegasi were so lucky. The only difference between them and Earth Ponies was a pair of extra limbs covered in these frilly, little follicles and because of that, a whole third dimension of movement was available to them. The sky was literally the limit!

They made it look so easy.

I dragged the feather up and down through the air in a vague flying motion. My glassy eyes automatically followed the movement. I was too lost in my own self pity to really pay attention. They made it look so easy.

As the feather passed through the beam of moonlight the visible dust particles swirled and danced. Something about them caught my eye and pulled me out of my own head. Strange. It was like, my eyes had seen something important but my brain missed it. I pulled the feather through the moonbeam again, more slowly this time. The dust danced away, just like the first time. I did it again and again and again, each time trying to take in every detail, each time trying to figure out what my eyes saw that my brain missed.

Every time the feather moved up, the dust in the air just seemed to slide off but, every time it moved down, the dust was displaced. What if the Pegasi didn’t make it look easy? What if it really was easy?

A spark went off in my head. My dream wasn’t about me physically grasping the feather to keep me from hitting the ground. It was trying to tell me to grasp the concept of the feather so I could leave it!

My mind flooded with memories of Pegasi, birds, bats and every other flying creature I could think of. But, for once, I wasn’t seeing them for what they were. I only saw the mechanics of their movement. Size, shape, weight, density, surface area, it was all so clear. There was no great mystery to flight, it was just simple mechanics!

I grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment and an inkwell and began to sketch. There was so much to consider. I had equations to make, variables to work out, materials to source. But it was possible!

I dropped the quill and leaned back in my seat, just as the first rays of Celestia’s sun shone through the window. I looked down at my final sketch and grinned. This could work.

Chapter Two- Trial and Error

By Feather Scratch

“This’ll never work!”

Over the course of the day following my epiphany, I realised that my final sketch was probably a little over ambitious to start with. There would be a lot of hard work involved in building the thing, and the component parts wouldn’t exactly be cheap. I needed to iron out all the variables and prove the concept first, which led me to my first test the next morning.

“No, it probably won’t. But that’s what tests are for!”

I stood on the roof of the clock shop with a rig made from a broken up broom handle, a torn-apart pillow case, and some string strapped to my back. Mister Glockinpie stood on the porch below, hopping nervously on three hooves and chewing on the nail of the fourth. “Ya loony kid, this is too far! Listen to me very carefully. You are not a Pegasus. No amount of laundry strapped to your back is gonna change that. For Celestia’s sake, you’re nearly a stallion now. It’s time you got your head out of the clouds and faced reality, and the reality is, if you jump off that roof, you’ll fall and break your neck!”

I looked down at the ground and scrunched my nose. It was only a one story drop, and the rain last night had left the dirt good and muddy. I probably wouldn’t break my neck. I glanced back at my wing rig. It was roughly the same size as a real Pegasus’ wingspan and as well-constructed as I could manage in a single afternoon. A brief frown crossed my face. This wouldn’t fly. I was ambitious, not delusional. What it would do, however, was give me an idea where to start making improvements. All I had to do was avoid landing on my head so I wouldn’t forget the flaws I noticed. “Don’t you worry, Mister Glockinpie. I’m almost certain I know what I’m doing!”

I backed up, ignoring my master’s protests below. I fixed my gaze on a spot in the distance, took a few shallow breaths, and charged. The second my hooves left the solid slate of the roof and flung me into open space, I felt it. It was like time stood still. Every nerve in my body buzzed like I had just been struck by lightning. My senses took in every detail of my surroundings as though I had all the time in the world to remember, and pure, liquid euphoria surged through my veins. This was what I had yearned for all these years; this feeling. It felt like... freedom.

All too soon, however, the moment was over. My forward momentum died, and after a brief second of hanging, suspended in the air, I plummeted to the ground. My rig buckled where the wings met my shoulders and dragged useless behind me. I barely had time to gasp before a deep mud puddle filled my vision. Then everything went black.

~~~

The world was blank, white, like fresh parchment. My body told me I was falling, but the infinite expanse of nothing in all directions made it impossible to tell. I tried to scream, but there was no sound. Panicking, I clutched at my throat. It felt strange, like my fur coat had been replaced by... oil?

I looked at my hooves and let out a silent gasp. It wasn’t oil, it was ink, and my hooves weren’t covered in the stuff, there were just hoof shaped line drawings where my real hooves should have been! With a growing sense of fear and confusion, I glanced over the rest of my body. Just like my hooves, the rest of me was nothing but ink lines. I even had ink versions of my first test wings.

So... I had jumped off the roof, braced myself for a close encounter with a mud puddle, and now, I was a drawing on a page. That was new.

The feeling of falling didn’t go away with this revelation. If anything, it got worse. My wings began to flail and flutter,and, though I couldn’t see it, instinct told me the long, solid line that was the ground couldn’t be far away.

Think, think!

I rubbed my temples, cringing at the greasy texture of the ink. I must have really been smudging the detail on my face.

Smudging the detail? My eyes shot open, and I stared at, what passed for my hooves. The ink was a mess. I jerked around to look at my useless wings. If I was a drawing, what was to stop me making a few changes?

I closed my eyes and thought back to the moment I jumped off the roof. I tried to ignore the simple joy and focus on the details. Why didn’t the wing rig work? Two separate wings tied to my shoulders was a mistake. Without a Pegasus’ natural musculature my wings had no way of bracing against the updraft. The centre of balance was off too. The crude wooden frame made me front heavy, but, more than anything else, they were just too small. Pegasi must have compensated with some sort of magic because there was noway wings that size could lift a body as big as a pony naturally.

Satisfied with my conclusions, I removed the rig and set to work making the adjustments. It was every bit as easy as I thought it would be. Just by running a hoof along the ink, I joined lines to others. I lengthened those that needed lengthening, braced those that needed bracing, and finished off by adding a much sturdier harness.

When I felt the drag trying to wrench the new rig from my grasp, I quickly strapped in and pulled up, just as my back hoof smudged the one solid line at the end of the page.

~~~

“Are you sure he’s alright, Mrs Smith? Maybe we should take him to Canterlot. They have doctors, hospitals.”

“Quit yer fussin’, Corona, the boy’s gonna be just fine. I’ve seen plenty worse than that little bump on the head on the farm. Lucky fer him, he’s got a thick skull.”

My head throbbed as consciousness slowly returned to me. I groaned at my aching muscles and tried to force my eyes open, wincing at the light of the sun.

“He’s awake! Lay still, son.” A hoof pushed, gently but firmly, down on my shoulder as I tried to sit up. Blinking a few times as I adjusted to the light, I focused on the pony above me. The swimming blur of pale orange and yellow slowly cleared and became my mother’s face. Her eyes were bloodshot from tears.

“Hail Storm? Hail, he’s awake!” A second later my father came into view. His face was stoic, but his eyes betrayed his concern. “How ya feeling, kiddo?”

“Like a rock jumped up and bucked me in the face.” I croaked. “What happened? Where am I?”

“It’s okay.” My mother soothed, absentmindedly smoothing my mane. “You’re in your bed at the clock shop. After you fell off the roof, Mister Glockinpie carried you inside. Mrs Smith,” she nodded towards the older Earth Pony mare, “was passing by and agreed to take care of you while Mister Glockinpie came to find your father and me. Poor old dear’s taking a nap in the workshop now. I don’t think he’s had this much exercise in years.”

“Wait, fell off the roof?” I frowned in confusion. While I suppose it was technically accurate, I was pretty sure I jumped off the roof and only fell when gravity caught up.

My mother frowned, her tone suddenly turning sharp. “What were you thinking, going up there by yourself? Loose shingles or no, fixing a roof is a two-pony job for obvious reasons!”

“What? But, I didn’t-”

“Don’t even try to deny it, young stallion. Mister Glockinpie told us the whole story. Thank Celestia you only ended up with a bump on the head.”

“Don’t you ever worry your mother and me like that again!” My father chipped in, wrapping a foreleg around my mother’s shoulder.

I nodded mutely, avoiding eye contact. Mister Glockinpie covered for me? I guess the bag of bones wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~

Night fell. Mrs Smith had returned to the farm hours ago, and, after much coaxing and reassurance, my parents finally decided to head home. I closed the front door after waving them off and heaved a sigh of relief. It was great to feel wanted, but there was only so much hovering a guy could take. I wasn’t even really hurt!

I trotted back into the shop and sat down at the workbench, my back to my master who was rocking quietly in his chair. For the longest time, neither of us said anything. The only sounds to break the silence were the steady creaking of the rocking chair and the gentle crackle of the embers in the forge.

I eventually broke the silence, unable to take the tension any longer. “Why didn’t you tell them the truth?”

Mister Glockinpie snorted and chuckled. “Like I’m gonna be the one to tell a pair of loving, hard-working parents their son’s a delusional moron. No kid, that’s something I think they should hear straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“What happened to my wings?”

“You mean the junk you had strapped to your back? I threw it in the forge before I called for Mrs Smith. Figured it’d be easier than trying to explain it away. By the way, you owe me a new broom.”

I was glad I had my back to him, because I couldn’t suppress a smile at my master’s words. He may have been as soft and subtle as a buck to the face, but it was nice to know he cared enough to look out for me. “Thanks.”

He grunted. “I just hope this little stunt of yours knocked some long overdue sense into ya.”

My smile broadened to a grin as I pulled out a quill and a fresh sheet of parchment. “Oh, it did, sir. If it makes you feel better, I promise I will never try to use those wings or any like them ever again.”

~~~

Test one turned out to be a lot more educational than I had anticipated. Not only did it show me where my wings needed improving, it taught me the importance of secrecy. What I was doing was dangerous, to say the least. If I tried to work out in the open, everypony would try to stop me. I know they’d only be looking out for my best interests, but I’d never know peace if I didn’t see this through.

I worked on my second rig at night, after Mister Glockinpie went to sleep. The more complex design and the limited time I had to work on it each day was severely frustrating. Within days, I was jumping at shadows, straining my ears for every creaking floorboard, every possible hoofstep. I made sure to make each component individually and keep all the finished pieces carefully hidden, so I would have less to explain if I was caught. It was nearly a fortnight before I was finished.

As I blew the sawdust off the final piece, my chest swelled with satisfaction. It was all worth it. I snuck back to my room and fished out the large saddlebags I used for deliveries. One by one, I removed each component from hiding and carefully stowed them in the bags. Tomorrow night was it. I would go out of town, far from any prying eyes. I’d assemble my rig when I got there and then... Hope for the best.

~~~

As I tightened the harness around my waist, I felt a satisfying updraft nearly lift me clean off my hooves. My location choice was perfect. The Saddle Ledge just east of Ponyville was tall enough to make use of the high-altitude winds with only a short stretch of forest between me and the Sea Horse River. If my rig worked even half as well as I thought it would, I should be able to clear the forest easily before I started to lose altitude. I’d be in for a soggy landing, but it’d be progress.

I looked over the edge and gulped. Perhaps this was a little high. If my wings failed at this point, I wouldn’t be walking away with a headache and a lecture.

No!

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. This would work. Nopony ever made progress by going back.

Just as far as the river, that’s all it had to be. With my eyes closed and before my own sense of self-preservation could stop me, I stepped off the ledge.

I was falling fast. The trees below shot up at me like arrows from the earth, and the wind in my ears howled like it was screaming in fear because, at a time like this, somepony should. My eyes stung, and the world started to blur. I couldn’t see! This wasn’t good. I needed to pull up. I needed to pull up now!

I kicked against the cliff face and jerked my head back as hard as I could. The harness yanked painfully at my torso as my new wings caught an updraft, and, just as fast as they had risen to meet me, the trees below became nothing more than a green blur, shooting back and away. They were working! My wings were actually working! It may not have been flight in the truest sense, but I wasn’t falling anymore. I was moving forward, riding on the wind like a real Pegasus.

Within seconds, the last of the trees disappeared behind me, and the world below filled with the glassy expanse of the Sea Horse. I looked down at my reflection and erupted with laughter like a mad pony. I looked so awesome! I was doing what no Earth Pony had ever done before, and from here, things could only go up!

I was so caught up in my own excitement that it took me awhile to realise the river was still pretty far below me. I could see Ponyville looming in the distance, and it seemed to be getting just a little too close. By my original guess, I should have splashed down by now. The river was only so broad. What if my wings worked a little too well? I had no way to steer this rig, and, at my current rate of descent...

My blood ran cold as scenarios ran through my head. I was too low and had lost too much momentum to pull up over the windmill directly in my path, but I was still too high and moving too fast to land safely in the water. I could try and pull off a sharp nose dive but, the sudden deceleration and impact in the water would most likely break my neck. If it was even possible to steer this thing, I had no idea how. It just seemed like something I’d have to worry about later, once I had “not plummeting to my death” worked out.

I shut my eyes tight and braced myself. I just hoped the walls of the windmill weren’t too thick.

A sudden, painful impact knocked the wind from my lungs, and filled my vision with flashing, red dots. This was definitely worse than the bump on the head, mostly because I was still conscious. On the plus side, my head actually felt fine. I would have thought, in a direct collision, that would the part of me that hurt the worst, but most of the pain seemed to be in my chest.

I must have been in shock, because I still felt like I was moving. I blinked furiously, trying to clear my vision. I could see the windmill. It was several metres away and seemed to be getting farther and farther away by the second. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was actually going backwards.

Ponyville fell away and rumbling, grey clouds filled my vision. An all-too-familiar sense of falling washed over me, and, just for a second, I managed to convince myself this was just another dream. Then the ground jumped up and smacked me, hard, on the back. As I skidded to a halt, the only thought going through my head was, good thing there was no air in my lungs, or that might have really hurt.

As I lay there, staring at the stars, my lungs heaving for air, several thoughts swam through my head, battling for attention. That was awesome! Need to figure out how to steer. Next time, wear eye protection. That river isn’t nearly as wide as I thought it was. Why am I not picking splinters out of my face inside a windmill? I didn’t know I could fly backwards! Why is my chest so heavy?

“Urgh.” When the weight on my chest shifted, I finally managed to focus back on the here and now. I looked up to see a mare clamber unsteadily to her hooves. She shook her head and staggered away, giving me room to sit up.

I tried and failed. After a moment of fruitlessly flailing my hooves in the air, I remembered my harness. The instant I worked the buckle loose, I fell to the ground with a dull thump. Slowly, I sat up. I groaned and rubbed my aching ribs. Two tests, two injuries. Perhaps I should invest a little time developing some sort of padding before test three.

“What in the name of Celestia did you think you were doing?!” I looked up at the mare that was on top of me. Now that my head was clear, I was able to recognise her. My cheeks flushed.

“Blue Streak?! Uh, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?!” Her pupils were the size of pin pricks, and she looked like if she bore down on her teeth any harder, they’d shatter. Spectrum had called her a “loveable tyrant.” Last time we met, I saw the loveable. Now, I guess it was time for the tyrant. “I’m doing my job! Stormy nights scheduled all week, remember? I do not have the time to waste bailing out every block-headed Pegasus who doesn’t have the good sense to avoid flying under active thunderclouds. Not to mention, one who’s so bad at flying he can’t avoid barrelling, head first, into one of the biggest buildings in town!”

I sat there in shock for a full minute. I don’t think I even blinked. I had just been insulted, yelled at, and chastised by the mare I... By a mare I was fond of. I should have been hurt, angry even, but most of what she said was just white noise compared to the one statement my mind had latched on to. “You thought I was a Pegasus?”

She had her hoof raised and mouth open, prepared to put down any of the generic complaints she had heard a thousand times, before freezing mid-breath. “What?” She blinked a few times before running her eyes, slowly, over my face, down to my bare back, over to my wing rig, then back to my face. After a few more seconds blinking, she gasped. “You’re that Earth Pony who brought us the watches, Bert!”

“It’s Bolt actually.” I grumbled. “But yeah, that’s me. Thanks for the save.”

Poor mare. She looked as though her head was about to explode, trying to fit an Earth Pony-shaped piece into a Pegasus-shaped puzzle. “Wh... But... How? I mean... You were flying! You weren’t doing a very good job but, you were flying! Earth Ponies can’t fly. It’s just not...”

I chuckled a little as she collapsed onto the ground, clutching at her head. “First of all, just because Earth Ponies don’t fly, doesn’t mean we can’t. I just proved that. Second, yeah, my flying could have been better, but I think it was pretty good for only my second attempt.” I knelt down and rested a hoof on her shoulder. “You okay?”

I could only imagine what was going through her head at that moment. She had just witnessed what amounted to the impossible. I may as well have sprouted a horn and started teleporting all over the place. Eventually she managed, “How?”

“Short answer, a little inspiration and a lot of hard work. Actually, I have you to thank for this.”

“What?!” She recoiled. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember telling an Earth Pony to stick it to gravity!”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Remember the last time we met, back at the track?” She nodded but was still clearly sceptical. “You gave me the feather you used to sign for the package.”

“You kept that?”

I coughed, hoping the darkness would hide my burning cheeks. “Well, yeah. Like you said, souvenir. Heh heh. Anyway, that night, after a... bad dream, I started messing around with it and, all of a sudden, I was inspired! I was always good at making things and I always wanted to fly so, I decided to make myself some wings so I could fly!”

Blue cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow. “And, it worked? Just like that?”

“Well... there were a few... technical difficulties with the first model.” I rubbed the back of my neck and smiled sheepishly. “But, as you yourself just saw, the second model works great!”

“You mean, apart from nearly making you face plant into the side of a building at high speed?” She trotted over to my discarded rig and examined it. “Huh, I thought you were just a Pegasus trying to creatively air out your bed sheets. This really lets you fly? This is so...”

“Insane, ridiculous, stupid?”

“Awesome!” Just like that, her face lit up, and she was the same giggling, bouncy pony I met at the race track. “You are officially the coolest pony I know Bert!”

“It’s Bolt, and thanks.” My cheeks burned and a stupid grin devoured my face. Who cared if she got my name wrong again? She thought I was cool! “You’re the first pony who doesn’t think the idea of me flying is insane.”

“Oh, I think you’re seven kinds of nuts, but who said being crazy was a bad thing? It takes guts to go after a dream everypony says will never happen, and, unlike me, you actually look like you could pull it off.” She laughed and went back to playing with my wings like she hadn’t said anything, but her enthusiasm was gone. I realised she could tell I was blushing the whole time because, just then, I saw her cheeks flush.

“Are you saying you have a dream nopony thinks you can do?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“No, tell me. I want to know. It can’t be any weirder than an Earth Pony who wants to fly.”

She sat down and looked away, her wings and ears drooping. She didn’t look like she was going to say anything. In fact, she looked on the verge of tears. Just as I was about to take pity on her and change the subject, she spoke up. “I’ve always wanted to meet the Princess.”

I frowned. “Well, that’s not so farfetched. Everypony wants to meet the Princess, and you have a better chance than most of doing it, right? All you have to do is win that flying contest this summer. From what I saw at the track, I’d say you’re a shoo-in.”

She shook her head dejectedly. “Not likely. Because Celestia is hosting the event to make peace with the Gryphons, odds are good the winner will be a Gryphon. It’s the smartest political move, so it’s what everypony’s expecting. Even if it wasn’t, it isn’t just us in Ponyville entering. The contest will feature all the best flyers from across Equestria. I know I’m fast, but I’m a rookie compared to most of the entrants. The best I can hope to do is not mess up and hope I don’t lose to Spectrum.”

We sat in silence for a while. I underestimated the Pegasi. It would seem at least some of them understood the wider implications of such a competition. I just wish it didn’t have to hit Blue so hard.

“You know, not many ponies know this, but I was born in Cloudsdale. Both my parents were Pegasi, you see. The day I was born I nearly fell to my death. My dad caught me at the last second, but I’ve dreamt of falling almost every night since.

“Nopony ever took me seriously when I told them I wanted to fly. They chalked it up to foalish imagination or just plain envy. They never bothered to stop and actually ask me why I wanted it so badly.”

Blue inched a little closer. “Why did you?”

I gave a dry laugh. “Honestly? Because I was scared. I realise it may be hard to believe, given the circumstances, but there’s nothing that scares me more than falling. Just thinking about it makes me feel helpless.

“I thought I’d have to live with the fear and the dreams my whole life. Then I met you, and, with one little act of kindness, you changed everything.”

I smiled as her cheeks grew even redder. “You saw what I did tonight. That wasn’t just me proving common knowledge wrong; that was me leaving my fears behind. With these,” I patted my wings, “I will never fall. I don’t ever have to be afraid again, thanks to you.”

“It was just a feather.” She mumbled, lowering her head to hide her smile.

“These wouldn’t exist without what I learned from your feather. You’re the pony who made the impossible a reality, and I for one have no doubt you can do it again.”

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “But, what about the Gryphons, all that diplomacy stuff?”

“It wouldn’t be very diplomatic if the results were fixed right from the start. All you have to do is put on a show they’ll never forget, and every big-wig and blue-blood will be begging to speak to you!”

“Ha! Here we are. You just built the wonder of the age, and you’re talking about me becoming a celebrity.”

“Well,” I scratched the back of my neck and chuckled. “You may have noticed the ‘wonder’ isn’t exactly perfected yet. I could use the help of an experienced flyer to work out the kinks and teach me about stuff like not flying under thunderclouds. How about this? If you help me with my dream, I’ll do everything I can to help you with yours. You’d be surprised how useful I can be.”

She stared at me for a painfully long time. I was almost sure I had put my hoof in it. What could I possibly have to offer to her? Thankfully, her expression softened and a warm smile spread across her face. “I’d like that.”

This night had turned out far better than I could have ever imagined.

Chapter Three- Through the Ringer

By Feather Scratch

“You’re doin’ what now?”

“Building a Pegasus catching machine,” I said nonchalantly as I scrutinised the various ropes on sale a Stinkin’ Rich’s general goods stall.

It had been a few days since that night at the cliff. I hadn’t been able to talk to Blue or take my rig out for another test in that time. Privacy was a scarce commodity in a small town where everypony knew everypony, and, despite my best efforts, my nocturnal excursion hadn’t gone unnoticed. Luckily for me, my nosey neighbour had assumed I was sneaking out to meet a mare which, in a roundabout way, was true, though it had opened the flood gates to a seemingly endless barrage of good-natured ribbing from everypony I knew.

“You know, most stallions would try to get their attention with flowers and chocolates first before pulling out the ropes.” Stinkin’ Rich snickered. “Both of which, I can provide.”

I rolled my eyes and selected several lengths of sturdy lasso rope. “You’re hilarious, Rich. I’ll be sure to tell the competitor I’m helping out that you sent your regards.”

Hoofing over a few bits for my purchase, I cantered back to the workshop before the opportunistic salespony could glean any more gossip to add to his eclectic inventory. I had a lot of work to do if I was to make good on my promise to help Blue, and I intended to make good. When I was done, she’d be the most agile creature on two wings.

~~~

“It’s a what now?”

Blue and I stared up at my Pegasus catching machine. A slalom of lasso hoops, each with a coloured flag dangling enticingly in the centre. The hoops protruded from box-mounted, hollow pipes, each cut to a different length, each laid out at uneven intervals.

It had taken me all morning to haul the entire slalom up to the racetrack and set it up. It meant missing my lay in on my only day off, and the early morning racers were none too pleased with my getting in the way. But it was worth it, just to see the look on her face.

“It’s an... agility trainer.” I smiled the biggest, goofiest smile I could, fighting hard not to snicker. Blue narrowed her eyes, looking from my face to the several lengths of string wrapped around my right forehoof connected to each of the boxes, and back to my face.

“You’re up to something,” she said slowly, suspicion dripping off every syllable.

“Of course I am.” I held my head up high and posed proudly. “It wouldn’t be clever if it was obvious.”

Blue giggled and elbowed me, playfully, in the shoulder. “Alright, Mister Smartypants, don’t get a swelled head.” She hoofed me her stopwatch and flitted over to the starting line, calling back. “So, how does this oh-so-clever contraption work exactly?”

I smirked and pointed to the first hoop. “It works exactly the way you think it would,” I said innocently. “Just fly through all the hoops as fast as you can and get the flags.”

“That’s it?” Blue quirked an eyebrow. “That’s your clever machine?”

“That’s it.” I added under my breath, “For now.”

She shot me another suspicious look before shrugging and fixing her gaze on the first flag, spreading her wings in preparation for takeoff.

I pulled out my clipboard and an old quill. I wasn’t about to use my blue quill in front of Blue. “Okay, first one’s a test run. Let’s see how fast you are under optimal conditions.”

She nodded, bending her knees, not taking her eyes off the first flag.

“Three, two, one, GO!” No sooner had the last syllable left my throat than Blue shot into the air so fast a contrail of crackling static was left in her wake.

As she shot from hoop to hoop, snagging every flag as she went, it was all I could do to tear my eyes away from her form to make my notes. She was awesome. A far better flier than she realised. But she had been right about her shortcomings in the field of agility, and it was obvious why. Her shear wing power was unreal! With a single beat, she could go from standing to a blur of motion faster than any eye could hope to track. But her speed could only be applied in one direction. She needed to slow to an almost dead stop to turn at anything but the broadest of angles. It cost her a lot of time and made her movements clunky and awkward.

As she snagged the last flag, I stopped the watch and trotted up to meet her at the finish line. She was panting slightly but beamed with pride. She spat out the flags and grinned. “So, how’d I do?”

I glanced down at the watch. “Nineteen point five seconds.”

Her ears splayed, and she looked aghast. “What?! That’s terrible!”

“Actually,” I mused as I jotted down the result. “Given how fast you were on the open track, this was about what I expected, if a little on the high side.” She snorted and glared at me, flicking her wings in frustration. I wilted. “But on the plus side, I have some ideas how you could really improve.”

She cocked an eyebrow and shifted her weight to one side. “Oh.” Her tone dared me to say just one more wrong thing. “Do tell.”

~~~

The sun was setting on the horizon, bathing the world in an amber glow, when we finally called it a day. Blue lay, sprawled on her back, panting heavily. She had flown the slalom dozens of times, each time shaving off a fraction of a second, but never managing to complete the course in less than seventeen seconds.

I had suggested she half her overall speed right from the get-go and to begin her turn before actually reaching the hoops. Much to her surprise, slowing down had actually helped, but not by much. We were still missing something.

I scratched my chin and stood up, stretching. “Well, I’d call that a successful first day. What do you say we pick this up tomorrow after work?”

“What’s the point?” Blue heaved herself into a sitting position and immediately slumped. We’ve been at this all day, and I suck just as badly as I did when I started.”

“Hey, come on now.” I placed a hoof comfortingly on her shoulder. “We’re just getting started. You shaved nearly three whole seconds off your time just by pacing yourself. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” I glanced back at my neglected strings. We had gotten so caught up in the basics that I had forgotten all about them.

“You still haven’t told me what that is.” She glanced at me pointedly.

“And I won’t until the right moment.” I raised my nose in mock haughtiness, eliciting a giggling snort from Blue.

“Pretty full of yourself for an Earth Pony with bed sheets for wings.”

“Exactly.” I smirked. “I’m the Earth Pony who made wings from bed sheets. So you can trust that anything I make works, more or less.”

“Riiight.” Blue rolled her eyes. “Just remember that I’m keeping score. I’ll be sure to bear all of this in mind for when it’s my turn to help you fly.”

~~~

The hours went by at a snail’s pace the next day. I found it impossible to concentrate on the task at hoof, so focused was I on trying to figure out a solution to Blue’s agility problem. There had to be a way for her to alter course while maintaining momentum. Speed and agility didn’t have to be mutually exclusive. Did they?

While my mind wandered, my hooves had been busy assembling a clock all by themselves. I had done this hundreds of times and, at this point, could have done it blindfolded. At least clocks were easy.

As I began to screw on the back casing, I glanced down at the counter. Sitting there, right in the centre like a tiny, bronze island in a sea of worn mahogany, was a single gear. Whoops. Maybe I wasn’t quite as good as I thought.

I picked up the little disc and began absentmindedly flipping it, trying to figure out just where it could belong. Well, this was irksome. At this rate, I’d have to take the whole clock apart again and start over!

I snorted and flicked the gear across the room, aiming for the bin in the corner. Unfortunately, marksponyship was never in my repertoire of skills as proven by the little projectile promptly ricocheting off two walls and dinging me right between the eyes.

Yelping a saucy expletive, I stumbled backwards, clutching at the bridge of my nose and nearly upturning the workbench, clock and all. Through a haze of tears, I saw my assailant twinkling on the floor where it had fell. My face twisted in a snarl, and I raised a hoof, intent on stomping the little nuisance into a useless, misshapen lump, but I froze. My eyes lost focus as an idea hit me.

Reverently, I picked up the gear, and with a flick of the wrist, sent it spinning, end over end, into the air. In my mind’s eye, the world fell into slow motion. I followed every flip of the disc, superimposing the image of Blue on top of it.

That was it! It was so simple! I felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner. Oh, Blue was going to love this.

~~~

The race track was, once again, full as I trotted up for today’s practice session. Pegasi of every size and colour were racing, stretching and drilling their various exercises I couldn’t discern the point of. To my surprise, several of the Pegasi were making use of my slalom, weaving gracefully through the hoops like leaves on the wind.

A shrill whistle drew my attention to the base of the machine where Blue, in full-blown coach mode, was calling up instructions and scribbling away at a clipboard of her own. Catching sight of me, she called an end to the day’s training and waved me over. She was frowning at her clipboard.

“Twelve seconds,” she muttered before I could say hello.

“Come again.”

“I’ve put every Pegasus in the club through these hoops of yours at least three times apiece. The average completion time was twelve seconds! Even Dervish managed it in fifteen once he figured out the right order. Heck, Spectrum did it in ten seconds flat!” She glared over to the far side of the track where the prismatic stallion was preening and boasting to his usual crowd of admirers. Her ears drooped, and she hung her head dejectedly. “Maybe I should just stick to coaching and forget about the competition. Even if I somehow halved my time, all Spectrum would have to do would be to stop goofing around and focus, and he’d fly circles around me.”

I paused for a moment, taking in her dejected demeanour. I couldn’t imagine being one of, if not the fastest flyer in Equestria only to watch my record be smashed time and again, all because of a single shortcoming. I smiled softly, trotted over to my friend, and made a great show of searching the sky above her head.

“What are you doing?” She lifted her head cocking it to one side.

“I’m looking for the dark cloud hanging over your head. Some weather pony clearly missed a spot.”

She giggled with a sound like tinkling glass, her cheeks flushing and a wry smile pulling at one side of her mouth. “Okay, point taken. But with results like these to compete with—” she tapped her clipboard “—I think I have a right to be a little gloomy.”

I stepped back and flashed a big, broad grin. “What if I told you I had the solution to your problem?” I reached into my saddle bag and produced a single bit.

“You... bribed all the competition to drop out?”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, spitting the bit into one hoof. “Yes. I bribed dozens of ponies and Gryphons to drop out of one of the most prestigious events in recent history all in one night, using only the money I saved from tips.”

Blue lowered her eyelids and raised an eyebrow pointedly, but considering her smile hadn’t faded, I decided I had gotten away with it and pressed on. “No. No bribery involved, just inspiration.” I indicated the bruise on my nose. “It literally hit me.”

Lifting the coin, I tossed it into the air. It flew straight up, reached its zenith, and then dropped straight down. I caught it deftly and smiled. “Tell me, what just happened?”

The Pegasus scrunched her nose. “You threw a coin in the air?”

I sighed. “Work with me here, I’m trying to be metaphorical.”

When an apologetic smile and a shake of the head were Blue’s only responses, I slumped. I had been quite proud of my analogy. Undeterred however, I pressed on.

“Okay. The coin is you.” I tossed it again. We watched as it shot up, its edge slicing through the air without resistance. Eventually it slowed as gravity asserted itself and gently fell to the ground. “Whenever you get moving, the only way you can change direction is to wait until your initial momentum bleeds off or to actively fight against it. Both of these cost you far too much in terms of time and energy to be any use in competition.”

Blue frowned slightly at the frank assessment of her skill, but nodded along anyway.

I took the coin again and tossed it back into the air, this time adding a flick of the wrist to send it end over end. I snatched it out of the air on its return trip and turned to Blue, fixing her with an expectant look. “Now, what was the difference between that toss and the last one?”

Her frown deepened as she tried to follow along with the metaphor. “You... added a flip to the toss... making the coin spin on its axis while it went up?”

My eyes brightened, and I nodded encouragingly, waving a hoof for her to continue. “And if you apply that principle to yourself?”

She bit her lip, eyes darting from side to side. “If... I could flip mid-flight... I’d be changing direction without losing momentum?”

“Exactly!” I stomped my hooves, overjoyed Blue came to the conclusion herself. My joy dissipated somewhat when I noticed she was still looking crestfallen. “What’s wrong?” I asked hesitantly. “This is the perfect solution!”

She sat down and shook her head with a sigh, giving me a sad smile. “It’s a good idea in theory, but it won’t work. At the kind of speeds I reach, any sudden change in direction would be really dangerous. The G-force alone could snap my wings, never mind if I actually hit something.”

How it was my turn to pause and consider her words. I was struck by the memory of gliding over the Seahorse, my elation turning to panic as the windmill loomed ahead. My only option to avoid crashing into the building was to take a sharp nosedive, which would have, undoubtedly, resulted in some nasty injuries. If I had been moving at Blue’s air-crackling speed, anything I hit, be it a windmill, river, or pony flying in the opposite direction, would have turned me to paste.

I shuttered, pushing the gruesome mental image to the back of my mind. “That would only happen if you tried to take the turn at a glide, with wings and legs fully stretched,” I said, as much to assure myself as her. “But if you curled up into a tight ball and rolled, like this—” I jumped forward and gracelessly tumbled in the dirt, doing my best impression of a kicked hoofball “—only, you know, better; you wouldn’t experience any wind resistance. Then, when you were facing the direction you wanted to go in, just give a flap and boom! New direction, same speed, zero loss.”

As I picked myself up and dusted myself off, Blue hummed and glanced up at the slalom, rolling the idea around in her head. She was trying to keep her expression neutral, but her twitching wings betrayed her raising excitement. Perhaps just one final push was necessary.

“These mid-air rolls will, of course, require razor-sharp reflexes and reaction time. Pretty tall order. If you don’t think you can do it, I understand.” I looked over at the other Pegasi at the far end of the track and snickered evilly. “After all, not everypony is as confident in their own abilities as Spectrum.”

That did it. Blue sat bolt upright, her ears perked up and her pupils little more than pinpricks. “Bolt.”

“Yeah?” I asked innocently.

“Take the stopwatch.” Throwing off her coaching gear, she shoved the watch into my unprotesting hooves and jumped over to the starting line.

“Ready?” I called.

Blue glanced over to the other Pegasi, worry briefly flashing across her features. “Just a roll and a flap. No problem.” Looking back at the hoops, the worry vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a look of steely determination. “Ready!”

“Three, two, one, GO!”

I had seen a pinball machine once. A particularly wealthy client had one in his den, and he was kind enough to let me try it. Watching Blue move, I almost expected to hear dinging bells. But I suppose the series of tiny thunderclaps that followed her every sudden acceleration was even better. Any worries I may have had dissipated instantly as I gawped at my Pegasus friend take to the new flying method like a duck to water.

Snagging the last of the flags, she shot down to me and skidded to a halt, falling to her haunches and holding her head as her eyes spun in different directions. “So,” she began, her voice shaky and just a little higher than normal. “How was that?”

I stared, mouth hanging open as my brain tried to catch up to what my eyes had just seen.

Blue splayed her ears and lowered her head to her chest. “Oh, it wasn’t that bad. Was it?”

I was snapped out of my stupor by whooping and a thunderous applause. Every Pegasus at the track had stopped what they were doing to watch their coach’s performance. I grinned and gestured broadly to the assembled ponies. “Does that answer your question?”

Blue’s face burned crimson as she smiled and waved to her team. “It’s a start.”