The Tempest

Chapters

1: The Cloudsdale Immigrant
2: The Wonderbolt's Shadow
3: The Rumored Stormspotter
4: The Tempest Turner
5: The Forgotten Aide

1: The Cloudsdale Immigrant

“Seriously, Dash, what are you doing?”

Once again Twilight Sparkle found herself disregarded by the multicolor-maned pony in flight overhead, and yet she still chose not to surrender to Rainbow Dash's indifference and difficulty. Instead, the unicorn huffed and sped up, nearing a full canter in her efforts to keep up. After all, if Dash really wanted to lose her, it wasn't like she was the slowest pegasus in all of Ponyville – the pony could disappear into the distance with a trail of rainbow and the blink of an eye.

“Rainbow Dash, answer me!” Twilight demanded once more, only then catching her stride on a stray stone and tumbling head over hoof in a cloud of dust and dirt along the countryside path. Grumbling, she wiped grime from her nose and glanced up and into the inquisitive magenta eyes of the pegasus she'd been trying so hard to catch.

Dash frowned, bending her neck down over her fallen friend. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” she mumbled, sitting up and momentarily shaking her mane clean. “Had I known falling on my face was the only thing to get you to stop, I might have done it earlier.”

“Oh, uh,” Dash stammered, her ears flipping back, “sorry, Twilight. I guess I didn't hear you. Did you... need something?”

“Well yes, I was going to ask if you would be able to help me hang up some decorations for the party Pinkie Pie is throwing tonight. She went a little overboard making the banners and streamers, and it's a big job for just one pony to... to, uhh...”

Twilight trailed off, grin fading to a frown as Dash's gaze wandered to the sky and over her shoulder distractedly, fidgeting all the while.

“Rainbow!” she huffed.

Snapping to attention, Dash offered a brief smile before dipping her head. “Oh, uhh... I can't. I have plans.”

Twilight tilted her head. “Yeah, plans to go to the party. You said you wouldn't miss it when Pinkie invited you last week, remember?”

“Yeah, well, now I can't,” Dash shrugged, once again casting a glance over her shoulder. “Look, Twilight, I'd love to chat, but I gotta... you know, do stuff.”

She twirled on her hooves and beat her wings for a quick exit, yet found her flight gagged inches from the ground, where she unceremoniously tumbled onto her rear. Closing her eyes, she mouthed a silent curse and glared at the sky.

Twilight, brow raised, leaned further on the pegasus's tailtip. “Rainbow, you represent the element of loyalty, remember? What else could be so important that you'd go back on your word to Pinkie?”

“Nothing,” she huffed.

“You're a terrible liar.”

A groan. “Okay, fine. My brother was planning to move to Ponyville in a couple months, but something happened and now he's coming tonight. I have to get his place ready or he'll have a panic attack or something.”

Twilight lit up. “Really? I knew you had sisters, but a brother too? Why didn't you just say so – this is great! We need to tell Pinkie; we can make tonight's occasion a welcoming party for him instead! I'm sure she invited most of Ponyville – it's perfect!”

“No!” Dash snapped, then threw her hooves to her mouth. “I-I mean, I-I don't think that's a good idea.”

“What? Why not? You've seen Pinkie's cutie mark. She's great at this stuff.”

Standing, Dash dusted herself off and shook her head. “That's not it. My brother's... not really the 'party' type, okay?”

“Brother?” Rang the elegant, refined voice of Rarity as the white mare stepped toward the two, fabrics of both shining and patterned variations peeking from the overstuffed saddlebags hanging at her sides. “I don't remember you mentioning a brother, Rainbow Dash.”

Sighing broadly, the pegasus bowed her head and glared elsewhere. “It's just, he's... he's kind of embarrassing.”

The two unicorns exchanged glances.

“Rainbow, darling, maybe you need to give him more time,” Rarity offered. “I used to find Sweetie Bell dreadfully annoying until I realized how much she looked up to me.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Rainbow mumbled. “I'll try to remember that.”

Unfazed, the fashionista smiled proudly. “So when do we get to meet the dear?”

“Rainbow said he's moving into Ponyville tonight,” Twilight grinned. “I was thinking we should ask Pinkie to integrate her party to welcome him to town like she did for me when I moved here from Canterlot.”

“Really?” Rarity drawled. “I did pick up some extra fabric; I could certainly whip up something dashing for him to wear for the occasion. Tell me, Rainbow Dash, do you know his size?”

Throwing her head back, the pegasus released a mortified groan. “No! No parties! No sweaters! No anything! Forget I even said I had a brother, okay?”

And with that, the pegasus spread her wings once more, a moment's rainbow trailing her tail as she disappeared into the clouds – leaving the two unicorns gaping after her in shock, their manes cast every which way from the resulting gale.

“I'm worried, Rarity,” Twilight murmured as they passed Ponyville borders and into the town, her violet eyes scouring watercolor hues of the sunset and the clouds scattered in its midst. “Rainbow Dash has never even mentioned a brother before, and now she doesn't even want us to have anything to do with him. This isn't like her.”

“In my opinion, Twilight, it is our duty to ensure her brother finds his niche in Ponyville.” Her head held high, the mare's eyes glittered with intrigue and determination. “It's not every day a pegasus pony decides to leave Cloudsdale for good. Frankly, I'm jealous – if I had wings of my own, I'd...” Met with a look of skepticism, Rarity giggled and flipped her mane. “I-I'm only joking, Twilight, of course.”

She chuckled, but only briefly. “Rainbow was heading towards that vacant little cottage outside town. What if he has a hard time making friends, or if he gets lonely? What if Rainbow doesn't want to keep up with him after he moves in?”

“Please, Twilight. I didn't get the impression he was just a foal.”

She dipped her head. “I guess you're right, it's just... I was new to town once. The princess told me to make friends here, but I didn't know where to start. I was lucky to get to know you girls, but what if he doesn't get that kind of opportunity?”

“Don't fret, dear, you'll give yourself wrinkles. Besides, I'm sure Rainbow Dash will come around; she just might be a little stressed out over all the changes.” Throwing back her curled mane, Rarity glanced briefly at the colored balloons tied to the fence bordering Sweet Apple Acres as they passed. Golden light billowed from the barn, and even from a distant the two saw a variety of colored flanks and manes within the barn to accompany the music and voices bursting from within. Glancing at her saddlebags, Rarity offered to catch up after dropping by her shop to leave the fabric and whip up something for the mystery brother.

Twilight heard the familiar blue-eyed, balloon-flanked pony long before she saw her; in the center of the crowd Pinkie Pie grinned and bounced, seemingly hitting the climax of some fairly illogical yet delightfully exuberant story involving Bon Bon and a batch of raisin cookies. As the unicorn neared, the surrounding crowd burst into heaps of great laughter, and with flattened ears Twilight crept her through to her friend’s side.

“Hey, Pinkie, I need to ask you something—”

“Oh, hi Twilight!” squealed the earth pony’s voice. “What took you so long? Hey, do you know where Rarity or Rainbow Dash are? I thought they said they were coming.”

“Well, about that… Listen, we found out Rainbow Dash’s brother is moving to town tonight.” Twilight stepped back as Pinkie’s eyes lit up, and continued with minor hesitation. “She doesn’t want us to get involved, but we figured since you throw such good parties, maybe we could—”

Pinkie squealed, and for a moment Twilight could have sworn the earth pony's curly mane had puffed out even further in excitement. “Leave it to me, Twilight!” she winked, ushering the purple unicorn back out the door, “You go get Dashie's brother, and I'll get this party fixed up lickety-split!”

Pushed from the barn, Twilight stretched her neck to argue one last time: “He's supposed to be shy, Pinkie, so don't--”

“Twilight, don't worry! I'll handle everything!”

And with one last beaming grin, the farm door was shut abruptly behind her, casting the unicorn into the thick of the night. She frowned, sighing. “That's what I was afraid of...”

2: The Wonderbolt's Shadow

Stepping back up the path, the princess's pupil could not help but hang her head; it seemed her attempt at a good deed and a proper welcome for the Cloudsdale immigrant was already falling apart. Sure, organization and keeping order was one of her greatest of talents, but with Rarity fixing up an outfit for an individual whose tastes she did not yet know, and someone eccentric like Pinkie planning a party for an introverted stranger, well... what else could do wrong? Twilight could only hope Rainbow's brother would not be utterly overwhelmed by their attempts to welcome him, just as she herself had been at her own arrival. Kicking at the dirt, she grimaced and regretted not listening to Rainbow in the first place.

Before she could inform anyone else and further the inevitable chaos, Twilight started for the little cottage in the forest where she'd known Dash to be headed before the sun had set. Even beneath the veil of the dark, the unicorn watched streaks of rainbow part the clouds over her head time and time again, back and forth between Ponyville and presumably Cloudsdale – but Twilight did not quicken her pace nor alert the pegasus. As she drew closer, the soft, warm glow of the cottage broke through the trees at the edge of the forest; even from a distance, Twilight saw nothing but cardboard boxes and empty floors from within the door left ajar. Surely, this would be the mysterious brother's new adobe, and the unicorn could not stifle the inevitable grin as she passed a number of boxes marked “Books” piled beside the front steps.

Magically clouding the batch of boxes in a soft, purple aura, Twilight lifted the books effortlessly and led them into the door as she trotted in. Dotting eyes of a matching hue about the open room, she found little more than dusty floors and boxes strewn about. Light flickered with the candles of the chandelier above her head, and when no ponies approached, she mustered up the courage to call out. “Hello?” she said, a smile dancing at her lips as she stepped delicately across the wooden floor, eyeing the staircase that ascended into darkness. “Is anyone home? My name is Twilight; I heard you were moving in tonight, so I came to introduce myself...!”

Save a creak of the board beneath her hoof, the pony was met with no response. “Must not be back from Cloudsdale yet,” she muttered to herself, shrugging as she turned back to the door. Setting the boxes of books down on the floor, her eyes dwelt on them a long moment – then, grinning, she trotted closer. Surely Rainbow's brother would not mind if she just took a peek at his collection, right? Maybe he had something she didn't – maybe he'd even let her borrow something!

Squealing a little to herself, Twilight did not hesitate to delicately pull away the tape with her magic, then pry the box's flaps apart. Pulling out book after book, she glanced over each one – Equestrian Maps and Atlases, The Wonderbolts: The Early Years, even the full Daring-Do series... in hardcover! Twilight recognized most of them as pieces of her own library, but that didn't worry her – he seemed to have similar tastes in books as both his sister and herself, and dreamily the unicorn envisioned the three discussing such fine literature over green mint tea...

What felt like a beak pecked at her head, breaking her daydream; reflexively Twilight backed up and shook it off, her magic cut by the distraction and she promptly dropped Daring-Do and the Mountain Mask to the floor in a loud clop. A small cardinal fluttered past her eyes, grabbing the box's edge in its talons before cawing quite angrily, flailing its wings and clawing at the cardboard.

“Oh,” she gasped, trying to ignore the sharp pain it had inflicted near her horn, “oh, please, calm down! I-I didn't mean to intrude, I just came to meet the stallion that was moving in here, and...”

“Cinder?” The voice behind her nearly drove her into the ceiling; Twilight spun on her heels in alarm, ears erect and tail held high. In the doorway a pegasus hovered – not Rainbow Dash, but a male of a much deeper blue. As he lowered to the ground, his light, mint-green eyes gaped back at her as she did he, and with the utmost delicacy he set the box in his hooves on the floor and landed beside it. Sinking back into his shoulders, he lowered his head and looked humbly between she and the floor, mouth agape yet seemingly unable to form a single word.

She smiled – not because the display was amusing, but because it so terribly resembled her first meeting with Fluttershy. Fortunately, that meeting had trained her well with such a predicament. “Hello,” she said, straightening herself up and nodding her head respectfully, “my name is Twilight Sparkle. I'm sorry I intruded on your house, but I wanted to be the first one to welcome you to Ponyville. I moved here myself just a few years ago.”

Instead of the stallion responding, the cardinal cawed in her ear.

Like Fluttershy, he maintained a distinct air of uneasiness; unlike Fluttershy, however, he seemed less afraid and more... well, modest. In fact, he stretched his neck so low that she suddenly realized how the princess felt every time she met with bowing subjects. Twilight would not lose hope just yet, though: Fluttershy had started chatting away the moment Spike arrived and she was able to talk about her passion – undoubtedly, Rainbow Dash's brother would react similarly.

“I noticed you have a lot of books,” Twilight attempted next, sidestepping around the box she had opened. A light blush heated her cheeks. “I was curious as to what your tastes were, so I looked in... I hope you don't mind.”

No answer. He did, however, quietly begin pushing the box he had brought in across the floor with his nose, though his eyes did not leave her as he moved.

“I-I noticed you had the whole Daring-Do collection,” she grinned. “I'm a big fan, myself. Your sister borrowed the whole collection from me – you are Rainbow Dash's brother, right?”

He seemed to motion to the bird beside her, and without a beat the cardinal fluttered over to him, beginning to peck at the packing tape that sealed the box shut. “Yeah,” he muttered, standing idly by as he waited for the bird to finish.

“Rainbow's one of my best friends,” Twilight beamed, stepping closer. He noticed, but did not move. “She's always reminded me a lot of Daring-Do. Really fortuitous and always looking for a challenge, you know? Oh, I mean, of course you know, you're her brother...” She giggled.

He did not. Instead, he looked at the floor. “Yeah.”

It was then that Twilight decided her strategy was not quite working, and with a deep breath she squared her shoulders once more and trotted closer, extending a hoof. Clearly, she would need to just be herself. “I think I already introduced myself, but... just in case, I'm Twilight. It's nice to meet you.”

The deep blue stallion perked his ears and straightened up, staring at the hoof a moment before flattening his ears. “Stormdrift,” he said finally, tapping a hoof against hers and attempting a quick, shy smile. Their eyes connected only a few brief seconds before his averted and he backed away, immediately busying himself with directing the cardinal elsewhere to peck open a different box.

For a long moment Twilight watched him, the tenseness in the silence thickening, and she internally sighed in relief when the tomboyish voice of Rainbow Dash filled the room. “Okay, Storm, here's the last box. I'll head back and— ...Twilight? What are you doing here?”

The unicorn spun on her hooves, knowing how goofy the grin on her face was yet finding it completely impossible to fix. “Rainbow! Hey! I was just introducing myself to your brother! Did you, uh, did you know he reads Daring-Do, too?”

“Yeah,” she scowled, “I know.”

Twilight stretched her grin perhaps a little too far. “The night's still young, Rainbow Dash. Since you're done moving Stormdrift in, why don't we go swing by the party at Sweet Apple Acres? It should only be getting started, and you both must be hungry...”

The brother and sister exchanged glances, and Stormdrift dipped his head.

“I don't think so,” Dash replied, pushing the box into the center of the room. “Besides, we still have a lot of unpacking to do. Maybe another time.”

Trotting a little closer to her friend, the unicorn adopted a mischievous smirk. “But you promised Pinkie, Dash. She was expecting you. It would be pretty disloyal not to go now, don't you think?”

Rainbow glared, evidence that she knew of Twilight's little plot, but with her brother now looking on – and with him knowing the Element of Harmony she supposedly possessed, as well as her popularity as a Wonderbolt in Ponyville, it would be more than embarrassing for her to go back on a promise and leave that as her first impression on him as to how she and Ponyville residents got along. She winkled her nose and stomped her hooves a moment, but threw her head back and groaned. “Okay, fine, we'll go to the stupid party!” Her wings extending and lifting her from the floorboards, the pegasus swept out the door with one last call: “Come on, Stormdrift, hurry up!”

Her brother, startled, hesitated a moment before trotting with a dipped head after her, picking up off the ground only at the door. Twilight raced to follow, but it was no use – Rainbow had zipped off into the night, her brother presumably in tow. Sighing, the unicorn glanced at the cardinal left behind, doused the candles with her magic, and shut the door behind her.

Troubled thoughts and images clouded her vision as she walked, her pace leisurely though the pair of pegasi had surely already arrived. Sure, Stormdrift was plenty quiet and clearly shy, but why would Rainbow so vehemently refuse to expose him to the public? Did she worry so badly for her reputation in Ponyville? What her brother was like would never affect how her friends viewed her, and Twilight could think of nothing he could possibly do that would ever bring Fleetfoot to consider booting her from the Wonderbolts. Soarin' certainly wouldn't think any differently of her, though the unicorn thought it unlikely that he and Stormdrift, let alone the rest of Rainbow's family, had never met. What was it that so possessed her to be, put frankly, not the loyal pony Twilight and her friends knew her so well to be?

Granted, Dash was more impulsive and arrogant than most, and she and her brother just seemed so... opposite. Twilight knew Rainbow Dash to be brash, courageous and occasionally a little lazy – but her brother seemed so reserved, shy and soft-spoken. Their genders, their colors... everything was different. His coat was a much deeper, evening hue of blue, and his silver-white mane and tail cropped short. His appearance lacked the vivacity and showiness of his sister, just as the dark rings beneath his eyes exposed a sullenness her bright, attentive eyes did not. The two reminded Twilight of Big Macintosh and Applejack, a brother-sister pair who acted and looked opposite – yet, like the rest of the Apple family, were “tighter than all the trees in the orchard,” as she knew Applejack might put it.

Perhaps I'll write to the princess about it, Twilight nodded. Maybe she'll have some advice on how to approach this... or she'll just be vague, like usual.

...Yes, writing to the princess would not be of much help.

Twilight was surprised to hear Rainbow's voice outside the barn as she arrived some time later. Stepping down the path once more, the unicorn saw the two blue pegasi at the side of the barn – Dash's head held high, while Storm's held low – as she seemed to be lecturing him on something, her voice barely audible over the beat of the music within the closed-door barn. Had they not even gone inside yet?

“...and don't stare at the floor the whole time, either,” the multicolor-maned pony was saying. “You're not gonna make any friends if you can't even look at them. Just stay out of the way, and if anyone talks to you, just tell them what I told you, got it?”

The unicorn furrowed her brows. “Rainbow Dash, what are you doing?!”

“Nothing!” she snapped back, abruptly moving to the barn, throwing the doors open, and trotting in. Her brother followed, his head held low, but he hesitated in the glow of the doorway.

Smiling sadly, Twilight joined him. “It's okay,” she said, nudging him encouragingly with her shoulder. “Just be yourself. Everyone will love you.”

Stormdrift glanced his gentle eyes back at her, nodding sheepishly. He moved to respond, but anything he said was easily drowned out by the excited drawling of Rarity, who trotted to them with a beaming grin and a sweater over her back – the exact mint-green shade of the stallion's eyes.

“There he is!” Rarity said, batting her eyes. “Stormdrift, right? Rainbow was just telling me about you. Here, I whipped this little thing up for you in my boutique – it's nothing, really – consider it my way of welcoming you to our little Ponyville, won't you?”

The sweater lifted from her back amidst a cloud of baby-blue magic, and the curly-haired mare pulled it up and over the stallion's head without budging. Once securely on his person, Rarity squealed, her eyes glittering: “Oh, it's perfect! Why, you look simply dazzling, if I might say so myself! It could use a little extra threading here and here... Well, anyway, I'm surprised Rainbow never told us she had such a dashing little brother!”

Ducking his head, Stormdrift attempted a smile, but it warped and wavered beneath his anxiety. Twilight noted the color in his cheeks and promptly cleared her throat. “Well! Now that he's here, we should probably introduce him to everyone else, don't you think? Seeing as Rainbow isn't going to...” Shaking her head, the unicorn eyed the light blue pegasus across the room; Dash seemed to be ignoring their presence as much as she were able, but even from afar Twilight could see the Wonderbolt forcing toothy grins and flicking nervous eyes to her brother time and time again. Perhaps it was because she was born an only child to very doting parents, but Twilight could simply not see the logic in it all.

One by one, beneath the banner that so extravagantly declared “Welcome!” and amongst the multitude of colorful balloons that dotted the barn, Stormdrift offered a weak smile and a murmur or two to those that approached. He found no offense among them: Lyra and Bon Bon wished to hear stories of Cloudsdale; Fluttershy suggested bringing Cinder to meet the birds near her home; the gentle Roseluck tucked a flower behind his ear; and Applejack nearly shoved an apple tart down his throat despite protests, making it fairly difficult to pretend he wasn't completely allergic. So many faces, so many names – he was quickly and easily overwhelmed, and when his many new “friends” found momentary distractions, Stormdrift backed away quickly to the darkest corner he could find, then crept his way along the walls and back out the door.

Grimacing, the stallion swept into the darkness and away from the door; he collapsed against one of the apple trees at the edge of the orchard, the base of the music still pounding against his ears and his stomach still nauseous from the sugar in the tart. Such festivities like these – he had hardly experienced things like it. No, the closest to a party he had ever attended was the one thrown in Cloudsdale for the new Wonderbolt recruits, when his sister had been initiated... Even then, he had hid in the corner and stared at the clock.

Mother had always done well to thrown a small something-something together for his birthday each year, but there had never been any guests. Shutting his eyes, the pegasus sank slowly to the ground, his wings sprawling as the cool earth soothed the shooting pain in his head: He hated to think of those birthday parties. He hated to see their Mother try so hard, year after year, to convince his siblings to come home, just for one night. Just one night – yet every year only been he and his mother gathered around the cake. The candles glowed such a sad light when his birthday came, like withering coals in the hearth rather than the beacons he wish they'd be, guiding his sisters home like a lighthouse on the sea.

Somewhere within that barn, someone was wondering where he went. Someone wondered why he seemed so sad, or why his sister had all but made simple conversation with him. The stallion rubbed his nose in the dirt, then cloaked his eyes with his hooves. “I'm an embarrassment,” he whispered to himself, relishing the empty, black sanctuary behind his eyelids. “This is a disaster.”

At his ear – flat against the cold earth – crunched the reddest of autumn leaves, and in that moment the stallion knew he was no longer alone. Rolling his head back, his dark-ringed green eyes gazed up into a set of brilliant blue ones, a color so vivid he imagined a world of oceans within. Attached was an augmenting, sugar-sweet smile, and a voice so high-pitched it stabbed at his headache like a dagger through the skull: “What's a disaster?”

“Oh, um,” he stammered, rolling quickly back onto his stomach and flattening his ears. “N-Nothing. I-I didn't know anyone was there.”

She blinked, pulling her head back up. “Hey, I don't know you. Who are you?” A sudden gasp. “Are you Rainbow's brother?!”

He moved to reply, but any words he might have said only emerged as a mumble; the pony had taken to bouncing in circles around him, a sunny smile dancing about her features despite Luna's moon hanging high over their heads. “I made this party just for you,” she exclaimed, her cotton-candy curls twirling and wagging as she launched up and down and into a tangent. “Well, not just for you, really, but kinda for you, you know? My good friend Twilight – Oh! Have you met Twilight?! – she said you were moving to town, and that of course means we have to throw a party, because who doesn't want a party on their first night in Ponyville?!”

He considered making argument to her logic, but the opportunity vanished the moment she took her next breath.

“Anyway, hi!” she beamed, tipping onto the edges of her hooves as she drew close enough to nearly poked her nose against his. Had she no understanding of personal space?! “I'm Pinkie Pie! Who're you?”

...The break in her incessant chatting hinted that it was his time to speak, but when he opened his mouth, on she went.

“Hey, why are you out here, anyway? The party's inside, silly!” And on and on she went, her words so quick and spirited that they jumbled together worse than that hailstorm in Cloudsdale last year. Oh... wait. That was my fault... “It's not over for a couple more hours, you know. Oh, did you try one of Applejack's tarts? I heard they were really good. This is Sweet Apple Acres, you know, and oh! Are you a Wonderbolt, too? I can't really tell them apart when they have their uniforms on – except for Dashie, of course, because she's so super-duper colorful. Oh, hey, what were we talking about again?”

Stormdrift knew better than to interject. Heaven forbid.

“Right! The party!” Pinkie nodded approvingly, then zipped to his side and forced him onto his feet. “You don't want to miss a Pinkie party, trust me!”

Stumbling, he backed out of her reach and into the trunk of the apple tree, promptly releasing a few of the fruit to the grass. “N-No,” Storm said, “I-I shouldn't go back in. I should go home.”

“What?” All joy seeped from her exuberant eyes, and the male's heart lurched that he would sap her energy just like that. “Don't you like parties?”

In the face of such disappointment, the stallion found no words. She did not yet even know his name, yet Stormdrift had ruined her impression of him just like that. He had known since the moment Cloudsdale requested his leave that Ponyville would be no different for him – he would never appeal to its folk, just as he had never fit in with the pegasi of his home. Sinking into his shoulders, the stallion glanced every which way, his ears flattened tight and heart pounding – no, not another panic attack – and without prompt nor words, his wings spread, and he was gone.

3: The Rumored Stormspotter

He heard first the twittering of Cinder at the windowsill, then noticed next the intensity of the sun from even behind his eyelids. With a groan, Stormdrift pulled the covers over his head and prayed for more time, but when the cardinal did not yet conclude its conversation with the springbirds outside, the pegasus blinked himself awake and groggily slipped from mattress to floor. His stomach still twisted and churned with the very same nauseousness he had hoped would pass in his sleep, and his eyelids hung with a heaviness he could not begin to describe. In reality, not much slumber had been had; nights when he tried to sleep off anxiety always resulted in the same tossing and turning, along with the drawling of voices in the situations replaying in his head over and over again. He hated every second of it, that crippling anxiety, and yet could find no way from its victim to its victor.

Seeing his master stirred from his sheets, the cardinal cascaded past the pegasus on striking red wings, ever the chipper one to greet the dawn. Like night and day, the little, social bird of a brilliant scarlet contrasted the reserved deep blues of Stormdrift's coat, and not even Cinder's chatter aroused more than a hanging head and dragging steps from the green-eyed stallion. Stormdrift stepped down the staircase and through a number of sunlit spots the window was happy to provide.

“Looks like a nice day,” he mumbled to himself. “More pressure... just what I need.”

Perhaps it was the grogginess of lingering weariness, or perhaps it was the distracting cringing of his stomach, but when a party horn erupted suddenly in his ear, the pegasus nearly jumped from his skin – and unceremoniously tumbled head over hoof down the stairs. His back slamming against the hardwood floor, Stormdrift stared in bewilderment at the curly-haired silhouette hanging over him in the brightest of sunbeams. Though she grinned, she blew the horn once more between his eyes, as if to ensure he was still alive.

“Good morning!” the cotton-candy pony exclaimed, bouncing circles around him as he climbed back onto hooves trembling from the near-heart attack. “You sure wake up slowly! I've been here for hours!”

Finding absolutely no words to greet her with, the stallion stood with tucked ears, furrowed brows and hanging jaw.
Grinning, she batted long, black eyelashes and tapped his teeth shut with a hoof. “Don't worry, I let myself in! I didn't want to ruin the surprise. Oh! Right! Surprise!” ...and a burst of noise and confetti exploded from seemingly nowhere.

Shaking the stuff from his cropped mane, Stormdrift backed away. “Wh-What do you want?”

“What do I want?” She seemed to ponder this only for dramatic effect. “I want to be friends, duh! You ran off so quickly last night – like, whoosh-quickly – you didn't even tell me your name!”

“I-I don't really have a lot of time,” he murmured, peering out the window only long enough to note the position of the sun in the sky. “I really have to go to—”

She dived in front of him when he turned. “Go? Go where? Hey, I'll go with you! You don't wanna get lost, right?”

“Well, no, but—”

She trotted in place. “I know you're probably as zippy as Rainbow if you fly, but I don't have wings, so we have to walk. Come on!"

As he so commonly did, Stormdrift strode with a lowered head and a slow, dragging gait, while the unfazed Pinkie skipped and hopped without discouragement. For a time, she babbled on and on about the folk of Ponyville he had yet to meet – the rest of the Apple Acres family, the alchemist zebra outside of town, Twilight's assistant – but the faceless names were thrown in his midst so quickly he could not memorize a one. Stormdrift did not dare utter a word, not because he could not get one in edgewise, but because he hated to think of dampening her spirit with his sullenness.

“I still don't know your na-ame,” she hummed melodically between breaths.

He held his gaze on his hooves. “Oh, uh... sorry... Um, I'm Stormdrift.”

“Stormdrift and Rainbow Dash!” Pinkie grinned ear to ear, a bounce forming in her step. “Sheesh, talk about opposite names! Are all your sisters named like that?”

“Kind of—”

“Hey! You should meet the Cake twins!” She hopped in front of him, and Stormdrift halted abruptly. “I babysit them sometimes at Sugarcube Corner. You'd love them!”

How she came to that conclusion, he didn't know. “I can't,” he mumbled, and stepped around her.

Promptly, Pinkie spun on her heels and interrupted his walk once again: “How about we visit Fluttershy? She's real quiet and stuff, just like you!”

He gave her a look, then moved around her again. “I have to be somewhere.”

“How about berry-picking with Berry Punch? Or we could go bowling! Darts? Checkers? Staring contest?”

“I have to meet the Mayor,” he insisted, quickening his pace and dodging his way around her time and time again. “M-Maybe some other time, okay?”

She went undaunted, however, all the way into Ponyville and up to the city hall, where the pegasus was finally rid of her (the city building was much too staunch and stiff to entertain the rambunctious Pinkie Pie). Naturally, the Mayor was a busy individual; she attended to the usual welcome-to-Ponyville speech and pointed out locations on a map spread about her desk, all the while wondering why she'd made such meetings with new residents mandatory when she had far more important things to do.

“The Ponyville Stormspotters have been low on members for some time now,” the Mayor sighed, though the pegasus noticed the optimistic glimpse in her eye. “I have appealed for Cloudsdale assistance for a number of years now, but as you should already know, cities in the sky are much harder hit by inclement weather than those on the ground. I'm so relieved to finally have one of the Cloudsdale Stormspotters here in Ponyville – we're hit by thunderstorms often since none in our current team can handle more than rainclouds.”

He sank into his shoulders and shrugged, casting a brief glance at the stormcloud adorning his flank, complete with raindrops shaped like golden bolts. Hardly the flashy cutie mark his sister had, but then again, he was hardly the flashy individual she was. “I'll do my best,” he said, but his stomach twisted.

After noting the Stormspotters' base location and meeting time later that afternoon, the Mayor politely escorted him back to the lobby when their meeting completed. Stormdrift was left standing on city hall steps without intent nor destination in mind, and with Pinkie Pie nowhere in sight, the stallion breathed momentary relief and moved at a more leisurely pace for his home on the outskirts of town. There was much unpacking to do, after all, and he hated to think of getting in the way of busy ponies amidst a normal yet bustling day in the center of Ponyville.

He tasted the shift in the air on his tongue, then braced himself against the sweeping western winds that blew past and sank once more into his shoulders. Surely such things were only his imagination.

The squeal of the Sugarcube Corner door announced Twilight's presence even before she could greet those within herself. The giggling of the Cake twins echoed from up the staircase, and over the commotion she could hear their blue-eyed caretaker singing and tapping some sort of dance on the floor. Mrs. Cake only winked and nodded, giving her permission to follow the sound, and with that and a contented smile the unicorn trotted up the stairs and around the corner.

“Twilight!” the earth pony would exclaim, hardly bothering to pull off the extravagant glasses perched on her nose, complete with fake eyes hanging from the lenses and a bright, red nose. Twilight seemed to catch her in such garb more often than not, yet still could not stifle the light chuckle that surfaced as a result.

“I brought the book you asked for, Pinkie,” the unicorn nodded, pulling it from her saddlebags with help from her magic and drifting it over to her. “'Foals and Fillies: Teaching Core Skills.' It was one of the books already in the library when I moved in. And how are my two favorite twins today, hmm?”

Pound and Pumpkin lit up at the attention, though the filly was first to approach. In her mouth was her favorite stuffed bear, still missing one of its buttons for its eyes – her brother was evidently living up to his name. “Twilight,” Pumpkin said, promptly dropping the bear, “are you still gonna teach me how to fix Mr. Chubby's eye after school tomorrow?”

“That depends,” the elder unicorn grinned, noticing Pinkie had already buried her face in the delivered book. “Have you been practicing what I showed you?”

“Uh-huh!” The filly stepped back and shut her eyes tight, blue-tinted magic sparking from her horn and slowly but surely, levitating the bear a few inches off the ground before it fell again. Gasping for breath after such frustration, Pumpkin beamed. “Mr. Chubby's a lot heavier than the needle and thread, though. I can pick that up just fine, so you'll teach me, right?"

Twilight nodded, chuckling, and directed the girl to go play before returning to Pinkie's side. “They're growing up fast, aren't they?”

“Hey, Twilight,” Pinkie murmured, “did you find anything in your library on that other thing I asked for?”

The earth pony lay sprawled on her stomach across the floor, book spread out in front of her, and Twilight didn't hesitate to settle down beside her to watch the children at play. “The stuff on the Cloudsdale weather teams? Spike and I both went through most of everything and didn't find a thing. Sorry, Pinkie... I guess I just don't own much about Cloudsdale. Why?”

“We-e-ell,” she drawled, rolling on her back, “I thought if I learned a couple things about their Stormspotters, I'd have something to talk to Dashie's brother about. He sure doesn't smile much.”

Twilight frowned: it was probably for good reason he didn't. “I think he's kind of a special case, Pinkie,” she said, quite clearly hesitating to share her observations with one so typically blunt and impulsive as the pink-maned earth pony. What she had heard outside the barn between Dash and Stormdrift the previous night... was that already too much to make known? Unconsciously, she shook her head; no, that would have to remain private. She would bring it up with Rainbow Dash herself. “I know what you did for Cranky Doodle a few years back was really good for him, but... well, not everything can be so easily solved.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. How to put this in simple terms? “Cranky was only, well, cranky because he'd searched for his lost love for most of his life. The fact that Matilda was in Ponyville when he moved here was a sheer stroke of luck, really. Reuniting them sort of solved all his problems, right?”

“Right! Isn't it great?!”

“Well, yes, but...” A nervous pause. “Look, I just don't think Stormdrift has that type of problem. From what I've seen of him so far, his problems seem to stem from living in his sister's shadow or being bossed around by her, hinting at a long streak of self-esteem issues that would probably take years of therapy to correct and...”

Pinkie stared blankly.

“Just be careful,” Twilight said, lifting back up onto her hooves. “If I were you, I would just let him be for now, at least until he gets comfortable. You saw what happened with Cranky: If you rush things and push yourself on him too much, you'll make him withdraw even more.”

Twilight could not imagine Pinkie Pie had any real experience in aiding the clinically depressed – which by her own calculations Stormdrift could be – and if the piny pony were to mess around too much with one like he, things could end up dire. He could end up moving away.

Pinkie, finally prying the silly glasses from her face, seemed to consider this. “So... is there a way we can help him feel better now that he's here?”

“There are several different ways that could potentially help,” Twilight mused, unconsciously straightening up and assuming a very orderly, knowledgeable air. “Exercise, meditation, a creative outlet, time out with friends—”

“Like a party with friends?”

“No, Pinkie, not necessarily.” She sighed. “I don't really know him, yet. I'm not sure what his exact needs are, or if we should even be trying to interfere. We only met him yesterday; he could have just been tired and grumpy after moving all day.”

It was fairly unsettling to see Pinkie actually consider these things so seriously. “Okay, Twilight,” she nodded finally, “I'll leave him alone.”

With evening settling fast, Stormdrift glided through Ponyville clouds with anticipation on his wings; to sense oncoming rain so soon unsettled him. He did not dare have his skills as a “veteran” Cloudsdale Stormspotter put to the test so soon after arriving in his new home. What if he messed up? What would they think of him? The stallion could only be grateful that those clouds seemed a ways off yet – a few days, perhaps – but if his gift and cutie mark proved him right, the storm would not pass Ponyville. He shuddered at the thought.

Near the center of town he found the Stormspotters' treehouse, which he realized doubled as a home as he weaved between its limbs. The glow of a warm light within its doors welcomed him at the balcony, and the chatter he heard seemed excited and friendly. Only a few voices, he observed – good, not a big crowd – and with that the stallion tapped hesitantly at the door.

Within seconds, it swung open to him, and in its doorway an apricot mare smiled at him. “Hey there,” she said, her wings extended and voice almost boyish in nature. He found it somehow... familiar. “Stormdrift, right? I'm Scootaloo. C'mon in, I think we're ready to start.”

Her messy violet mane drifting in and out of her vision, Scootaloo tapped the door shut behind him with a swing of her hip and trotted past, a confident bounce in her step he could not help but admire. Counting no more than ten mares and stallions in his midst, Stormdrift dwelt in the back with a perked ears and a roused sense of excitement. Where it had come from, he did not know, but when his fellow pegasi turned and smiled and greeted him without the same overwhelming commitment he had met at 'his' party the previous night, Stormdrift could only breathe great relief and forge a genuine smile.

“All right, everyone,” Scootaloo called, and commotion quieted quickly. “We're thinkin' it might rain tonight, so let's make this quick so Bowbolt can go measure the clouds before they get here. First order of business is that our transfer from Cloudsdale just moved here last night instead of next month, which will be useful if this rain's as bad as I'm sensin' it'll be. Storm, you gonna introduce yourself?”

At first, his head dipped – then, with a burst of sudden confidence he seemed to absorb from the Stormspotters' leader, he straightened his neck and puffed out his chest: Best to try to make a good impression. “I-I'm Stormdrift,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat and forced his voice louder. “I-I work with clearing storms more than rain. I, um, was with the Cloudsdale Stormspotters for a few years, until they sent me here.”

“I'm thinkin' that if the Cloudsdale 'Spotters sent him, he's got to be good,” Scoots said, “and he's the only one of us that can take care of something besides rainclouds and snow, plus he's got experience with the real deal up in the sky. Right?”

Shrugging, he turned his eyes. “The weather's kind of nasty in Cloudsdale, I guess.”

“Right,” she grinned, “so I'm votin' he take the adviser position Juniper Sky had before she got pulled back to her old team in Phillydelphia. Anyone opposed?”

His jaw dropped, but none seemed to notice – with unanimous nodding of the heads and excited chatters rising among them, Stormdrift seemed given no choice in the matter. That confidence he'd absorbed, blown away within seconds! Immediately he cowered into his shoulders and backed up against the wall in terror of the expectations he'd somehow brought with him – but his cutie mark did not lie, even when he tried to hide it with his wing. He was branded as being gifted with the storms.

“Then it's settled,” Scootaloo proclaimed, “the new guy's my new second-in-command! Now that Cloudsdale finally listened to us and sent us a real Stormspotter, things are finally going to turn up around in here in Ponyville!”

They erupted into cheers and exclamations, congratulating the petrified Stormdrift with offers of drink and food and talk; their meeting went on as such, excited with the new rankings even as they assumed more serious business and finally broke apart for the night. When they left, the stallion could not even near the door, too heavily surrounded by Ponyville Stormspotters that wanted to hear of his glorious Cloudsdale days, where the weather was horrid and made for unending adventure they all wished to see. He had nothing to offer them but hesitant smiles and promises of “Maybe another time,” which they were not at all discouraged by, much to his chagrin.

When he finally managed his way to the balcony and spread his wings to leave, the chipper call of Scootaloo halted him one last time: “Hey, Stormdrift, hold up a second.”

His front hooves on the bannister, the stallion folded back both wings and ears alike.

“Just wanted to say welcome to Ponyville,” she grinned, “and to tell you not to worry about the rain tonight. You just go home and get yourself settled in this time, and we'll take care of the rest. Got it?”

A heat in his cheeks, he offered a quick nod. “Got it,” he mumbled, and as always, disappeared in a flurry of midnight blue feathers into a starry sky.

A/N: Apologies for the great delays in chapters; I lost my muse after receiving really bad feedback from a submission site I sent the first two chapters to, and had pretty much put the fanfiction down for good until recently feeling the need to keep up with it. There's been a lot of views and stuff since February since I was last on here, so that's really encouraging. Thank you everyone! Please let me know how everything looks and where I can still improve. :)

4: The Tempest Turner

Heart pounding, Stormdrift shot up from his pillow, surrounded on all sides by the dark of night. A second pounding came at the door downstairs, and a faint cry of his name; immediately the pegasus swept from his sheets, launched by wings down the curving stairs with cardinal in tow, throwing open the threshold for a soaked Scootaloo that shivered there in the night's downpour.

The light inside painted panic on her features, and she said but a few words: “Bowbolt never came back.”

Stormdrift searched the night from what light extending from the doorway allowed him, but the rain cut his vision like a hovering gray fog. “Come in,” he said, stepping to allow her space, but she was quick to shake her head.

“No time,” she stuttered through her shivers, extending a wing to hood her eyes from drops. “The others are out looking for him. We need your help – something... something's coming, I don't know what.”

His ears perked at the rolling of distant thunder, green eyes shooting for the sky. “A storm,” he murmured, voice no more than a whisper.

“How didn't we catch it?” Scootaloo hissed, mud bubbling as her hooves stomped in frustration. “I sensed only rain, Stormdrift. Why couldn't I tell it was a thunderstorm? I sent Bowbolt out there by himself!”

Ears flattening, he turned a sympathetic eye. “I-It's not your fault, Scootaloo. I wasn't sure what it was, either...”

“We can't waste time blabbing about it,” she said, though she seemed to scold only herself. “I have to go make sure everyone in the town's indoors. Stormdrift, take care of that storm – I don't want something that big getting to Ponyville. Got it?”

Scootaloo did not wait for his approval, turning immediately on her heels and disappearing into the fog by hoof. With Cinder safe inside, Stormdrift swept into the night, his wings carrying him into where the white flashed worst. In his eyes the lightning struck, time and time again, and in his ears the rolling thunders warned through deafening roars; even the beating of his wings was lost to that terrible sound, for it bounced around him as if he flew into the very mouth of a beast awaiting its meal.

Within each flash of white hid a vision: Morningdew dancing about the clouds, laughing as she twirled effortless circles around thunderbolts; Astro and Sunny Noon corralling Cloudsdale rainclouds like cattle on the plains; Rayweaver redirecting lightning with a buck of his hooves! Stormdrift found himself back with them, for just those seconds, soaring the Cloudsdale skies as a team, but still they gave him no orders. Still he was on his own, fitting in where he could, finding a stray cloud he could blow away or tailing Captain Seasky like the aimless subordinate he was. With each flash he blinked away the blinding light in his eyes, and thus blinked away their memory: their smirks, their jeers, their shaking heads.

Barreling thunder erupted at the tip of his wings, splaying the pegasus from the sky like a downed plane. Somewhere in his mind Sunny's giggles echoed and Spiritsoothe swept out of the way, and like a torpedo did Stormdrift crash into the mud of the earth. The rain dotting his face, he tried to lift himself from the muck – and only when he collapsed again on bent and twisted knees did he realize he had been alone there all along, that the Cloudsdale Stormspotters had long since left him behind, and that not even a storm would slow down for him now...

Suddenly, the pegasus knew only the weariness of his mind and the ache of his bones. He could not will his body to move, cushioned by the sweet, cool caress of the wet earth, and his eyelids weighed ever so...

Ever so...

Ever...

“Stormdrift!” His sister's voice rang in his ears, her hooves announcing her presence as they thumped down beside him. “Hey, get up! You okay? Stormdrift!”

“Rainbow,” he mumbled, lifting cheek from mud, “where did you...”

His ear stung as she seized it in her teeth and tugged. “Get up! This storm's getting too close to Ponyville, get up!”

Grimacing, the stallion put hooves to ground and pushed himself up with her aid; quick as her reflexes were, Dash caught him when shooting pains in one of his forelegs threatened his collapse yet again. “It's less than a mile out,” she said, picking up into the air only when he did, her multicolor mane painted brown from mud and sticking lifelessly to her neck and face. “What do we do?”

“It's too big a storm to take down, even with two of us,” he said, shaking the pouring raindrops from his eyes. Ugh, my neck...! “W-Without the other Stormspotters here, the best we can do is redirect the storm to another direction and hope it'll miss the town.”

The blue pony pointed a hoof westward. “Then we're sending it that way. Tell me what to do.”

“I'll try to flatten out some of the heavy stuff, then start turning it,” the stallion said, rubbing at his head. “When I give the signal, you use your speed and send it speeding to the west. The faster we get it pointed and moving elsewhere, the less likely any of it'll hit Ponyville.”

“Got it,” Dash smirked, a telling glint in her eye declaring her excitement for adventure. “Be careful.”

Stormdrift inhaled deep into his lungs, then once again darted into the ever-darkening clouds, weaving between bolts with gritted teeth. With clouds dark like smoke and rain in his eyes, his vision stretched no further than the tip of his nose, yet still the stallion flew in and out of the clouds, confusing their composition. They stretched as he swept from top to bottom, and when the thunder roared he dashed into its source and split the cloud with wings pounding against the sky.

He was not the pony Rayweaver was – he could never cut lightning with the buck of his hooves – but sweeping up its length he could thin it, reduce its strength, but one false detection, an inch too close, and—

The flash -- heat and flame licking the tips of his feathers, he yelped and lost control. Again spiraling from the sky, the earth and mud closed in with open arms, but he would not yield to it again. Beating his wings with all the strength he could muster, Stormdrift caught himself mid-air and returned to the clouds despite the horrible pain each flap caused him, sweeping the skies in curves, twisting the storm, rounding its corners. At his command Rainbow Dash bolted into the sky and whizzed past, relieving him as he settled slowly for the ground nursing his wing.

The stallion watched his dazzling sister corral the clouds much like his fellow Stormspotters knew so well to do, the rainbows that tailed her flashing like fellow bolts through black clouds in a magnificent display. Her technique rough and untrained, she drew far too close to the storm's center but spun the tempest away with her speed, drifting it westward with ease as it seemingly missed Ponyville's outskirts with little room to spare.

Those there at the town's edge gathered where she came to land, her chest puffed and head held high. They praised her courage, how she'd painted the sky in her rainbows and saved the town for sure; all the while Stormdrift stood aside with hanging wing whilst pitifully gasping for breath. They had not seen him – and who would see such a dark pony amidst clouds of such similar nightly colors? His sister's rainbows, though, they... they had been something to see, indeed...

Dash did not approach him, did not praise him or thank him. No, she laughed along with her adoring fans, a smile beaming as bright as the lightning that had struck him. Parties, they declared, would be held in her name, and the injured Bowbolt – whom she had unwittingly come across, while Stormdrift had turned the clouds – begged she teach the Ponyville Stormspotters her tricks.

Perhaps, as her brother turned and limped home beneath the clearing, starry sky, Dash could have turned back to see him. She might have called back for him. Might have asked him to join her!

...But, she didn't. She wouldn't.

Not Rainbow Dash.

5: The Forgotten Aide

Stormdrift did not speak of the incident that day. When he strayed through the market he did not stop to correct the ponies' whispers of praise for his sister, nor did he attend any of the parties or the ceremony held by the mayor on Dash's behalf. It was just a storm, he told himself. Cloudsdale had faced far harsher weather on regular occasion, always fended off effortlessly by its guardian Stormspotters and typically without great recognition. They were beloved and appreciated, but they were not creatures of tall pedestals, fancy vestments and shining trophies.

Perhaps Ponyville had never suffered a storm worth truly celebrating, or perhaps they were desperate for excuses to repeatedly praise the only Wonderbolt who could break the sound barrier. Regardless of the reason, Stormdrift wanted nothing to do with it. Within the passing weeks the trees shifted to autumn, and soon after that winter would weigh snow on the ground and frigidity in the air. Thunderstorms would be a thing of the past, at least until the following spring, and the stallion breathed great relief knowing much pressure would be lifted from his shoulders. Ponyville Stormspotters knew how to handle blizzards, after all.

“Today is the annual Running of the Leaves,” Twilight would say at his door one noontime a number of days later. With her was the blue-eyed, pink eyesore whose name he couldn't quite place, and between them a basket of food floating in a cloud of purple magic. “I know that's something Ponyville has that Cloudsdale doesn't, so I didn't want you to miss it. I even took the liberty of packing a picnic.”

Instincts begged him to reject the idea and stay home. Unsure of words, his eyes hovered over the earth pony, whose excitement seemed barely able to contain itself to constant jitters that further frazzled her wild mane of curls.

“Pinkie agreed to be on her best behavior,” the unicorn added, “right, Pinkie?”
Hopping close in a heartbeat, her blue eyes begged inches from his. “Please say you'll come, Stormdrift, please? It'll be fun! I even promised Twilight I wouldn't ask too many questions, or talk too fast, or--”

“Okay,” the pegasus said, and his stomach growled its agreement.

They walked in silence for some time, though the pegasus found himself quickly forgetting the tension to admire the shifting leaves that danced red and yellow on swirling winds lining their path. Perhaps to fill the quiet, Twilight spoke briefly on the spell she'd taught herself to reattach fallen leaves to their limbs. Pinkie mentioned that Pumpkin Cake had already mastered Twilight's teachings from the previous week, and that Pound showed great potential in flight school, but all conversation thereafter petered into babble once Pinkie expectedly forgot her many promises to behave.

“How many sisters do you have?” she asked, skipping alongside the pegasus with a smile beaming like the sun.

“Three, with Dash.”

“Really? I have two! Oh, oh, what are your other sisters' names? Mine are named Blinkie and Inkie. Get it? Blinkie, Inkie and Pinkie!”

He forced a tiny laugh, but Twilight might caught his ear unconsciously twitching at the high-pitched squeaking Pinkie called her voice.

“Their names are Gloriday and Sunsong,” he said.

Twilight mumbled a warning to the earth pony, but Pinkie didn't seem to hear. “Where are they? Are they still in Cloudsdale? Will you see them, like, ever?”

“Gloriday joined the Air Royal Guard in Canterlot, but—”

“Oh! Have you met Gilda? She's a griffin, you know, and she's thiiis tall!”

“Yes,” he grunted. He wished he hadn't. “She's part of the Cloudsdale Skyforce. I had to work with her a lot.” And it was awful.

Twilight took the opportunity to very loudly clear her throat, and in doing so pacified the onslaught of questions. She did, however, turn to him with one of her own: “Do you get along better with your other sisters?”

“I guess so,” he said, “but Dash and I are the youngest. Since my sisters were older, they were busy most of the time and not home much.”

The silence spanned once again as if coloring invisible walls between them. Maybe I’ve said too much, he worried, dragging his hooves and staring every which way that was not a pony. Had he ruined their outing, before they’d even sat down? He could already hear Rainbow Dash laughing in spite.

In the corner of his eye he noticed Pinkie watching him, and promptly avoided her gaze. In the quiet of his mind, he called himself pathetic and a downer; to the mares around him, he was only curiously troubled.

But Pinkie had more than dealt with “troubled” before -- even Twilight acknowledged that.

“I forgot! I made cupcakes, Stormdrift,” the pink pony burst, scooping into the floating basket and pushing frosting into the stallion’s nostrils seconds later. “This is Mrs. Cake’s seeecret recipe. I promised Twilight I wouldn’t make you eat any until we sat down, but you’ll thank me after, trust me. Come on, open your mouth! Here comes the tra-ain, choo-choo!”

The cupcake -- now smeared across his resisting cheeks -- promptly flew from her hooves and into her mouth thanks to Twilight’s magic. Having momentarily silenced Pinkie, the unicorn pointed at the top of a neighboring hill and directed Stormdrift to see if it would suit their picnic, and for a time he drifted up and away from them.

Swallowing the lump of cupcake, Pinkie grinned crumb- and frosting-flossed teeth. “I was dying for one of those. Thanks, Twi--”

“Pinkie,” the purple mare hissed, “we’re trying to help Stormdrift, not just feed him. You promised!”

“Sorry, Twilight. He just looked so sad for a second there, I thought it would cheer him up.”
For most, Twilight supposed, it would have. Ponyville was such a happy place, she’d thought he might have bounced back from these issues after being surrounded by such positive energy for a couple weeks, but had judged little improvement in him. Did he even want to be happy? Did he know how?

“Remember,” the unicorn whispered to Pinkie as Stormdrift returned to them, “the point of today is to get his mind off his problems and see if we can get him talking about himself while we’re at it. Try not to be forceful, okay?”
The earth pony nodded, but Twilight did not yet dismiss her own reservations: Pinkie was not the brightest pony she had met, but if the mare truly wanted to help spread happiness and smiles to everyone she met, then observing how it could be done without parties and balloons would be a lesson for her indeed.

For a moment -- just a moment -- the unicorn allowed her chest to swell with pride and her chin to tip up haughtily. She was such a smart pony.

“That hill looks okay, I think,” Stormdrift shrugged as he hovered beside them. “It’s overlooking a road with flags.”

Twilight grinned. “Perfect.”

When they had settled at the top of the hill and pulled out the tea and daisy sandwiches, Stormdrift found some of his anxiety seeping away. True, he did not laugh as heartily as they, nor did he contribute to their smalltalk or help cheer on the ponies racing by for the Running of the Leaves, but for once he maintained a level of eye contact and could sit without poising himself to run with the onslaught of a panic attack. And dear Celestia, was it more comfortable.

Naturally, the feeling wouldn’t last. Not for this sorry pegasus.

“So, Stormdrift,” Twilight would say over her sandwich, “what made you join the Stormspotters?”

His stomach sank. “I didn’t make it into the Wonderbolt Academy.”

“That’s awesome!” Pinkie squealed.

Mortified, Stormdrift and Twilight alike turned her way, but the pony’s beaming smile did not yet falter. “What? It is! If Stormy had gotten to be a Wonderbolt, then he wouldn’t have become a Stormspotter in Cloudsdale, and then wouldn’t have moved here, and then he wouldn’t have been here to stop the big ol’ thunderstorm from tearing up Ponyville! See? It’s awesome!”
For a long moment he stared at her with great, unblinking eyes. “You were there during the storm?”

“Of course I was, silly,” she winked. “I’m hangin’ out with Rainbow Dash, right, and then my Pinkie Sense starts going crazy, so we go outside and there’s this super big storm coming in. I wanted to help too, but I don’t have wings so I just watched.”

“Rainbow never mentioned having help,” Twilight said, laying suspicious eyes on Stormdrift. “She said she did it by herself. Some ponies around town had mentioned they thought they saw someone else... that was you?”

He didn’t answer her. In fact, he hadn’t heard a thing; on the road below Scootaloo trotted past, grinning as she chatted with her red-maned friend. His ears perked, green eyes following the shine of the sun on her flowing mane and tail, the spark in her eyes, the way the breeze fluttered between the feathers of her wings folded on her back. Her Runner number marked her flank, but she was in no rush. He wished she’d run, try to win. He liked to think she still could, even so far back in the race.

Twilight called his name and repeated herself. “She did most of the work,” he lied. “I just told her where to go and set it up for her to take over.”

“Stormdrift, this is a big deal,” the unicorn persisted, her gaze digging into him. “Stormspotter teams have a lot of members for a reason, but you managed to sweep some serious clouds away with only two ponies. It’s even more incredible you weren’t hurt!”

Though the aches in his leg and neck had not yet quite subsided, he nodded. Briefly Stormdrift glanced at the road again, and when there was no orange pegasus in sight, he turned back. “The town is lucky Dash was there,” he mumbled. I couldn’t do it alone.

“Sooo,” Pinkie drawled, batting her oblivious baby blues, “why didn’t Dashie say something? Maybe she forgot.”

“She didn’t forget, Pinkie,” Twilight said. “I thought this phase of hers would be over when we all dressed up as Mare Do-Well, but I guess we didn’t beat it. I’ll have a talk with her, Storm. Don’t worry.”

He worried. “No, don’t. It’ll make things worse.”

She furrowed her brows, but when she straightened up and pondered it, she nodded. “You’re right. You should talk to her.”

Stormdrift argued the subject up until the very end, when the sun started for the mountains and the autumn cold set in. As they departed, Twilight reminded him that she believed there were many things being left unsaid between he and his sister -- things that were affecting their relationship as siblings, and attacking his confidence to make something of himself here in this new town. “If you don’t try to settle that with Rainbow,” she'd said, “you’ll end up miserable for as long as you live here, and I, for one, would like to see you stay.”

As she strolled away with Pinkie in tow, the pegasus turned his eyes to the evening sky, now budding with lights unveiled by the night. Twilight was right: Something had to be done. He had been comfortable with them -- with friends -- and he had liked it. Perhaps he already missed it.

“Hey, Stormdrift,” the pink pony said, reappearing briefly at his side, “you were really crazy-cool-amazing during that storm. Really! Here, I saved you a cupcake. Don’t tell Twilight, okay? Bye-bye!”

And as she hopped away humming, he smiled -- neither forced, nor brief.

He would search for Rainbow Dash that very night, the clouds and evening breeze cradling his every movement and every beat of his dark wings. Though he searched for her, visiting her regular spots, the stallion’s mind wavered between thoughts of how silly his cropped, short mane would look in the wind compared to the way Scootaloo’s had seemed to float -- and forcibly returning his focus to reciting the speech he had mentally prepared for his elder sister and her almost tangible pride.

Unlike Cloudsdale, Ponyville always seemed to settle into nighttime like a filly into her bedcovers; at dusk, the shutters would close, the merchants would gather their carts from the market and the children would say their goodbyes and go home. All was still, a picture of serenity, until the sun would rise again and the little town would bustle with business as usual. He liked the predictability of it all: Flying around town was much easier when he could be called down by Twilight with some new psychoanalysis of his person, or Rarity requesting a male model, or Golden Harvest wanting a taste-tester, or one of the Stormspotters asking how the weather looked.

Strange, he thought. How was it so many knew of and wanted so much out of him? He barely even left the house.
Stormdrift found Dash in the last place he looked: the other end of town from his home. As she picked up from the ground, she saw him -- and his wings ached by the time he managed to catch up with her. “Rainbow,” he called with his tiny voice, “can we talk?”

“I dunno, Storm,” she said, eyes rapidly searching, “I, uhh, I got stuff to do.”

“It’s important.”

The blue pegasus sighed, submitting, and set hooves back on the ground in the center of town. Scowling and impatient, she stared him down with daggers for eyes. “Is this about that tempest? You’ve got to stop obsessing about things.”

Nervously shushing her, the stallion glanced from closed shutter to closed shutter, and breathed relief only when no ponies came forth. “Can’t we talk somewhere private?”

“Just spit it out,” she said, stomping a hoof.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a deep, shaking breath. How did he start the speech? Was it something about their mother? Gloriday? “I-I want you to stop, umm, t-treating me this way.” No, that’s not how it’s supposed to start...

Dash tipped her nose, her head held high above him. “I treat you like I treat any other pony.”

“No,” he said, “I-I mean yes, but-- Dash, you told everyone you stopped the storm by yourself! We stopped it together! You followed my tactics!”

“I was doing you a favor! You get uncomfortable with crowds and celebration. I took it off your back.”

“No, you... Don’t lie to me. That’s not the reason, a-and you know it.” His heart pounded. Ordinarily he might have -- no, would have -- started running away already, but... but he’d been called amazing today. Well, “crazy-cool-amazing” to be exact, and in his mind Pinkie was still grinning and saying such praise over and over again. Even if she was a little nutty, Stormdrift had impressed someone -- and just that was enough to settle some of his lesser anxieties.

“Stormdrift, I’ve got a reputation here,” she said, blowing multicolor locks from her eyes. “I became a Wonderbolt because Spitfire had heard of all the stuff I do around here. I had to get special permission to stay around here, since most of the Wonderbolts have to stay in Cloudsdale. If I start slackin’ off, they could drag me up there for good, or even boot me from the team. I’ve told you that.”

His ears flipped back, and he spoke not in shame but retaliation: “Your status is more important to you than me?”

“Don’t be stupid. You know it’s not like that.”

“I’m not sure I’m the one being stupid here,” the stallion boomed, though only at first; by the words’ end, his sister’s stare had sharpened nothing short of intense, and Stormdrift quickly withered back into his usual self beneath it. Tucking his wings away and lowering his head, any remaining confidence melted to a puddle beneath his hooves -- but when he looked, it was only his shadow.

His shadow... how he wished he could sink into it and disappear...

“The Wonderbolt Airshow is tomorrow,” Rainbow said, a bristling in her tone but forced patience dancing about frustrated features. “I don’t care if you go or not, just don’t mess this up for me. Got it? Don’t mope around in the corner or whine because you’re not getting attention, and don’t tell anyone we’re related. Got it?”

When his jaw dropped and no sound came forth, she scoffed and spread her wings, taking for the sky. “On second thought, maybe you should just stay home.”

He did not fly home, and the long walk did nothing for his thoughts. From the edge of town Stormdrift saw the lantern outside his door already lit; under it was a grinning Pinkie Pie, unspeaking even as he drew close. No, for once she said not a word -- perhaps she wished him to speak of how the talk had went -- but he exchanged nothing. They shared a long glance at the door, and her beaming smile began to fade.

The stallion closed the door behind him. For a long while she waited there, quiet and hopeful, before releasing to the sky the blue and pink balloons she’d hidden around the corner, blowing out the lantern, and going home.