Wonderbolt

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.