The Academy

by Philip Terry Graham

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Romance, Rainbow Dash, Thunderlane
Length: 7382

Written in the perspective of Airheart, The Academy follows the journey of Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane at the prestigious Wonderbolts Academy, where their lives become tied down by the stresses and anxiety of reality.

The Academy was intended to be a story told from the perspective of Airheart, as she attends the Wonderbolts Academy and becomes friends with Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane. Airheart becomes witness to the two falling into depression – she attempts to start, and maintain, a romantic relationship with the otherwise lonely and trying Thunderlane, while consoling Rainbow Dash as she continually fails to live up to the impossibly high expectations required of her.

While a draft for The Academy was written in its entirety, only its first three chapters were ever published, and I have no intention on publishing the rest of the novel. However, its narrative, character arcs, and a majority of its dialogue, have been salvaged for an original novel entitled Falcon Academy – it follows a similar story featuring anthropomorphic birds, where an osprey freshman at an aeronautics academy befriends a love-starved peregrine and a prodigious harpy eagle. It will be published sometime in the future. Sometime.

Published 2013-06-22 16:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-25 04:49:00 UTC

Chapter 1 – Where Do We Start...

Chapter 1 - Where Do We Start...

     My life was in a great sense straightforward; I had wings, I loved to fly and I dreamt big. It was in this dreaming that I became the pony I am today. I am one of the Wonderbolts; high flyers who put themselves on the line in great entertainment and stood as heroes to those who were most faithful.

     I was one of those faithful.

     Ever since my father took me to see the Wonderbolts as a filly, I had always strived to become one of them: young, brave, athletic, and most important of all, inspiring. Fortunately, of course this wasn’t the product of a propaganda machine; this was purely our own decision to be that somepony who dared to dream and did. Therefore, I took it upon myself to write my signature on the sign-up board. My signature written in fine ink on a list of the names of other dreamers like myself secured me in a position I knew held great and overwhelming responsibility. After all, the Wonderbolts aren’t just a group of stunt ponies. We are role models.

     I remember the first time I took to the skies. It was a cold but clear afternoon and I had only just learned how to fly. I was only maybe three or four years old at the time, and while my vigilant parents were proud for me, they sort of knew that I would be going places now that I had learnt to take myself upwards. They would always tell me,

     “Airheart, darling, don’t ever go outside under any circumstances! You’re going to get yourself hurt!”

     My lusts for the outdoors was killing me though, and while the windows and doors were usually nailed with wood to prevent me from casually escaping outside, the strength I grew out of twisting and opening unnecessarily tight bottle caps and lids easily bypassed this undoubtedly flawed security measure! I broke out of the house while my parents were getting busy in their bed, something they would do a lot, and I took advantage of that. No shame here! When I made my first flight upwards, I felt something I had never experienced before. The air rushing against my face as I soared upwards gave me a somewhat euphoric feeling when I began to focus on my senses. This air that I was breathing and letting slide violently past me, clean and fresh as pure water, gave me a sense of excitement to some extent. The stale, corrid air of my home cannot emulate this. Nor could it emulate the emptiness and freedom of the sky I was travelling across.

     It was a few moments after I had regained my sense to think straight after experiencing this euphoric high that I halted to a sudden top in the middle of the vast, open sky. I had been shuttling myself upwards the whole time, but I wasn’t looking back. The moment I did look back, however, is a moment I will never forget even to this day. As I looked down, expecting to see the roof of my house and my neighbours, what I saw instead was an uninterrupted view of the world us ponies are so grateful to be given. I saw Equestria. I saw the land, sky and sea and everypony who lived on its surface and sky. I could see the endless rainbows and colours of Cloudsdale underneath me. I could see the vast fields of farms, crops and free range patches of grass of the Unicorn Ranges underneath that and the forests, mountains and rivers that occupied the lands below. What I saw was a view that everypony else I knew with wings only took for granted. The sheer size of Equestria was something I had never realised before. Neither was the gift of my own life. I spotted a gleaming point of light on the distance as I looked around in amazement; on the horizon, as I focused my very young eyes onto the light, sat an entire city, crafted with grandeur architecture, on the slopes of a massive, steep mountainside that I would later recognise during my school years as Canterlot.

     As I zoned myself in fascination of Canterlot, however, a very scary thing happened to me. The calm, breezy day suddenly and startlingly turned into a violent nightmare as a massive blast rupturing the air around me occurred over the valley. My memory of the blast itself is very blurry now, but I can still remember seeing a massive ring of colour slowly expanding around the point of origin, spreading across the entire sky below me, with some sort of rainbow extending past the origin and seemingly travelling downwards like some sort of travelling trail. But I wasn’t focused on the explosion itself. I was extremely startled by the event, and while I was trying balance myself this high in the sky with the air around me trembling, the shockwave of the explosion slammed me at full force, throwing me off my balance. I could no longer control myself. I was now freefalling and I was frightened. The shockwave temporarily paralysed me, and I just couldn’t get my wings to work. As I fell, my fears overcame me and I was left to tell myself that this was not going to end well. I was either going to wake up in hospital or wake up in the hands of god. It was the only logical thing I could think of, and with that I told myself to close my eyes.

     I was not going to let fear overcome me now. As I closed my eyes, I let myself go. For a few moments, falling to my inevitable doom, I set my mind free. I forgot all my problems, my worries and my fears. I emptied myself of negativity as I soared down, once again fell into a state of grace I knew this time would be endless. The air that flew past me as I descended rapidly took away every last thing that tied me down with it. It continued for a brief period of time as I became less aware of my surroundings and more aware of my feelings. As I fell further, my mind lost weight and the air seemed to calm. I noticed this. I noticed it but I never thought about it. I didn’t think of anything, and it was such a feeling I don’t think anypony has ever felt before. I stretched my arms and legs out and in a moment of pure sensation, I felt as if I were gliding; gliding free of my own life and sinking into another. I was no longer possessive of thought, emotion or feeling. I did not dare open my eyes, but then something amazing happened.

     My sense of feeling suddenly returned to me, and I immediately felt the company of two warm arms wrapped around my back. I was then shocked and startled as all my senses came back to me in an instant. My wing pains, my thoughts and imagination and even the beating of my heart slapped me in the face in a way that I had actually got a headache upon receiving my senses once more, and I opened my eyes.

     I saw the sky above, now tinted a beautiful light orange for the calling of the evening, but that wasn’t the thing that amazed me. I also saw a vast herd of a hundred or so other ponies flying around me, circling in a tornado formation; hundreds and hundreds of them. While I also knew how to talk at the time as well, I simply couldn’t speak words at the sight I was seeing in front of my eyes. I couldn’t help but also notice the figure on my right that was carrying me; he was in a blue costume like the rest of the ponies surrounding me, and was wearing very large flying goggles that I could just see through to make out his blue eyes. His muzzle pierced through the mask to reveal his brown coat and his darker brown hair was combed back. I looked at him with an extremely thankful manner. He had just saved my life. However, I was still speechless to say thank you though, but I suppose he read it in my eyes. He gave me a soft, charming smile and whispered to me in a calm and reassuring voice words that I will forever remember-

     “It’s alright kid. I’ve got you.”

     I returned home with broken wings, and my parents were definitely cross at me. Fortunately, I was flying again by my sixth birthday, but being as what happened last time I took to the skies, I was reluctant to do it again. But of course, when I grew up, I regained my strength and took a passion in flying. I would continually take the same route as I did before- fly high and free fall. Some ponies would resort to drugs or some sort to get their dose of sensations and euphoria, but for me, I have that spot high above Cloudsdale. A place that I will always go to if I ever feel down, out or simply bored of life. This spot that I would always go to, gave me a passion for flying. My fascination with the Wonderbolts was part of that as well. My father always said that the Wonderbolts had no place for someone like me, and I would always believe him because they had saved my life, and I believed I couldn’t have the capacity to actually save someone’s life. I just wasn’t fit to join the Wonderbolts. But that didn’t mean I would stop trying. My love for the Wonderbolts was equal, if not, bigger than my love for flying, and I sort of knew in a way that this was one of the spiritual qualifications. But I couldn’t simply ask of course; you had to attend the Wonderbolts Academy first. It was much like school, but graduation was far more exciting here than it could ever be in actual school. To become a Wonderbolt was an honour to anyone who achieved the feat, including me, and this honour is something I would keep forever close to my heart.

     Of course, being a Wonderbolt wasn’t the only thing circling round and round in my young and audacious mind. I got high grades in English in my school years, and I’ve always wanted to translate that onto something meaningful. This coarse but handy piece of paper that will bear these words until its lengthy publication rink is the best place to start. Whether or not two, three or thousands of ponies will set their skeptical yet interested eyes on these words does not bother me. Whether or not, however, the non-specific number of ponies reading this book will understand these words and take them for what they are is the most important thing for me. I imagine, while they imagine with me.

     These words in which I give to you at this very moment are not one of imagination, however. These words hold my life in the Academy, and the lives of many of my friends that I had met in the Academy. Imagination is secondary here. Imagination, however, is not a secondary at the Academy. If you had imagination, you were truly on your way to becoming a Wonderbolt. This imagination, a feeling of feeling, was primary in your success at the Academy. Unfortunately, some at the Academy lost their ability to feel at all, let alone imagine. For one to lose their feelings is something that not only worried them, but worried me as well; I know truly what it is like to feel nothing, but my situation was almost natural. For everypony else, however, my older self included, it is anything but natural. I knew two particular ponies at the Academy that fell too. Not physically like I did, but emotionally.

     These words that I will write to you on this piece of paper are the testaments of these two. Two ponies that lost themselves, drew themselves away from their lives and closed their eyes to the world. They however felt again. They felt feelings that were indeed natural; feelings that no pony else could ever stop them from feeling-

     Their feelings for each other.

Chapter 2 – Rook and Knight

Chapter 2 - Rook and Knight

     I guess our story begins at the very start. I clearly had so many other paths to take in the game of life, but I took the opportunity when I could. After all, it’s better to take the risk instead of pondering years later what you could’ve turned out to be had you taken that risk. So in the prime time of my vigorous life, I challenged myself to go higher, to live the life I had always wanted: the adventurous life of a daredevil. There was a survey that was handed out to people that had enrolled. It was a simple piece of paper, decorated with the bright colorful livery of the Wonderbolts; the borders were highlighted in blue and the yellow material the survey itself was produced out of was somewhat stiff and creaseable, like it was some sort of low-dense cardboard or a hoard of papers stuck together for a sense of depth. It was a high-class of presentation, to say at the least. I don’t really know how to compliment such detail in small sizes, but it’s worth the mention! It was imprinted with a few questions we needed to answer to make sure we weren’t unfit couch-dwellers that were quite literally dreaming! Because, let’s be honest, the last thing a trainer at the Academy wants to see is someone who can’t even survive the first courses!

     A quick fill-in and send-off gave me the confidence I needed for that week. It also gave me a leveled balance of anxiety to compliment my excitement as well, knowing that only the best of the best could be given the opportunity to attend the Academy. To be fairly honest, I never saw myself as that: the best of the best. That was what worried me. Who exactly were the Wonderbolts, the high-flying act of the millennium, were going to take under their wing? It was and interesting question I hadn’t imposed onto myself until then. In fact, I hadn’t had any doubt about being a Wonderbolt.

     Nevertheless, the acceptance letter came in anyway on a rainy morning. The mail pony had a huge load to unpack into the mailboxes of everypony on the street, so his arrival was a bit delayed at the time. Unlike most of the other ponies who attended the Academy, I didn’t fly up the instant I received the letter. It was depressingly drenching outside! When I did manage to make the trip the day after, however, it was a sparkling, bashful day indeed. I’m not talking about the weather though. It was the atmosphere of the Academy that engulfed me upon my arrival on the big rock in the sky.

     It was truly a mesmerizing sight; ponies gathered together on different cloud patches talking and singing with each other with continuous lanes of traffic streaking across the skies around me as ponies make their own ways to their own points of destination. I looked in my forward direction and spotted the Academy building. As I flew towards it, my eyes zeroed into the scenario and its surroundings. What architectural beauty I saw was the stone carved ridges and walls of the façade; the marvelous and wonderful hoof-carved bronze statues of famous former Wonderbolts on the flat-paved grounds of the front yard, which were colorfully decorated with flowers and ordainments from across the land. Here there were a handful of ponies walking up and down the coveted steps in front of the entrance doors as the day went by; every one of them taking the initiative to say hello to everyone they knew, all in their unique friendly gestures, whether it be a simple fist bump, discrete name-calling or even the casual exchange of kisses between mares and stallions. It was a remarkable cultural scene to put it bluntly.

     It was when I touched down on my bare hooves onto the pavement of the top step that I took my first glance at her. I had just arrived at the Academy, but I sure as hell did not know what to do now that I was there. I spotted that blue-coated rainbow mane Pegasus from across the flight. She was definitely the most noticeable pony there, that’s for sure! I initially told myself, considering she was in the same position I was, staring into space on the top step of the front flight, that the mare over there was probably a rookie like I was and didn’t have a clue what to do either! Then I made a decision that I had not realised until now had a profound effect on what was going to happen in my life; do I ask the mare for directions, or do I just carry on hoping to figure it out myself? I took a stab at her seeming that nothing could go wrong and I had no chance of embarrassing myself, since I was a rookie. I flew over to the mare and gave a slight tap on her shoulder.

     “Yes?”

     She replied as she turned her head towards me. I simply asked in simple assumption-

     “Are you new here?”

     Unfortunately, it was an incorrect assumption, but she took it lightly and laughed it off with a cheerful attitude.

     “Nah, I’m not, I’ve been here for a year or two now! I know these halls, corridors and courses like the back of my hoof!”

     I have to admit, I did feel a little bit embarrassed asking an experienced student whether or not she was new. It was probably the moment where my inner rookie showed the most. I tried not to look at her, but I think she saw the self-influenced shame in my eyes. She was having none of that though. She told me,

     “Hey, pal, it’s okay! I get it all the time! Say, you’re new here yourself, aren’t you?”

     I turned by head back to her and gave a simple nod and, as if on command, she immediately poured out all her sympathy for me. She gave me a pat on the back and asked if I needed some help. She insisted that she showed me around, and I accepted her generous offer. We began to talk to each other as we walked through the frames of the front doors into the large and very crowded entrance hall.

     “You seem like a very passive person, whatcha’ do when you get some time to yourself?” she asked.

     I simply told her that I was a writer.

     “A writer?” she exclaimed. “That’s funny, I know somepony who loves reading books, but she’s, well… doing her duties.”

     She seemed a bit down at this point. At that moment I just passed it off as some sort of lost affection towards a great friend of hers, but then she kept going…

     “Well, actually, all my friends are a very busy in their own lives that I haven’t been able to talk to anyone of them recently. It’s been sorta weighing me down a bit, if you know what I mean. It… just seems hard since I’ve known and hung out with them for a while now, and I’ve never been this far apart---“

     She stopped for a brief period as if she suddenly remembered something she forgot. The mare quickly turned around and glanced at me,

     “Oh! I almost forgot! I haven’t introduced myself, haven’t I?” She asked. “Sorry! The name’s Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow Dash… I could’ve sworn I’ve heard that name before…

     “I’m a high-flying, death-defying extraordinaire! I can clear the skies in Ten seconds flat and I can perform a Sonic Rainboom! On. Command.”

     I couldn’t say I’ve met anypony like Rainbow Dash before, honestly! You could say from that moment on, she was an inspiration to me, because I’ve never seen such confidence and independence in another pony. She was one piece of fine art, that mare.

     ”How about you?” she asked.

     ”My name’s Airheart” I confidently stated to her, trying to imitate her. ”I can fly really high and fast, and I can write novels in ten minutes flat!”

     “Not bad, Airheart!” she complimented. “C’mon, I’ll show you around!”

     It was the beginning of a long friendship I would have with this particular pony; a fresh, young daredevil that obviously possessed more passion and raw ability that I had, which is somewhat of a gift to me. With her, I now knew who to be if I were going to graduate from this fine establishment, but in the back of my head, I sort of had a hunch about Rainbow Dash. She was a particularly bashful pony on the outside, but since I first met her, I had doubts that this was what she truly was on the inside at the time.

     There’s no denying she seemed a bit off when I first saw her relative to what she introduced herself as. Standing on the steps staring into space didn’t seem like something a pony who was, well, bashful would do. It also lingered in my mind what she said about her friends as well: she obviously missed them to an extent that it was taking a toll on her, but was I to say that she needed serious help? Not particularly, but I was just worried about it. Realistically, however, I wouldn’t have thought it would affect her THAT much. She’s Rainbow Dash, after all! So I let it slip past me for the moment as I prepared for my time at the Academy.

     All of us newcomers at the Academy were each allocated different rooms to sleep in as we stayed at the Academy. There were a set number of rooms in a massive living block built for purpose as living cabins, but much more larger to encompass the set number of apprentices that would sleep here every night. My room, out of pure coincidence and luck, was next door to Rainbow Dash’s. It had been previously occupied by somepony by the name of Lightning Dust. Whether or not she managed to graduate or got dropped was none of my business, I was just grateful I had the room! It was nothing special though, just a bed and a few drawers and a massive window with curtains on the opposite side. It was not very roomy, but it was only ever suited for one pony, so it was good enough for me!

     I didn’t get to see Rainbow Dash again on the first night, but I did get to see another very friendly neighbour of mine next door on the other side of my room. As I was drawing out the keys for the door, the ominous neighbour I had to the left of me opened his door slightly and popped his head out of his room. The black-coated stallion that appeared before me looked down to find a few scattered letters at his doorstep. He swayed his door wide and reached out for the letters, leaning over and managing to lay his eyes on me as he leaned his head to his left a little. He picked up the pile of papers on the ground and retreated back to his room, closing the door shut. It was a very quick process, like one was used to picking up random letters left at their doorstep.

     But then suddenly he popped out again, with a random action of the hoof he pulled the door open and popped his little head out the door again, but this time he had his eyes fixated on me.

     “Hello there!” were the first words he ever said to me.

     He obviously saw that I was new here and was very suspiciously interested in me since that very moment when he made first contact.

     “You’re looking awfully good today!” he said. “The scarf suits you!”

     I was wearing my scarf that day, something my parents gave me as a present on my 7th birthday, and I’ve been wearing it ever since. It was always something that was essentially a part of me, that raggedy ol’ scarf of mine! Funny though, nobody ever complimented me for my scarf before...

     “The name’s Thunderlane” he proclaimed as he raised his hoof towards me offering a hoofshake.

     Upon first glance, Thunderlane was a very compelling pony indeed. His drawn-back light blue and white mane and the pure charm in his golden eyes struck me the first time I saw him. I was literally drawn in to shake his hoof and say,

     “You seem like a nice guy”

     “Oh. I’m not that nice...” he replied.

     Such charm indeed. I then noticed his batch of letters he was holding again. It didn’t seem like they were mail-posted, obviously.

     “Who are the letters from?”

     “Oh, some ponies...” he shrugged it off.

     It was really a short exchange of words, really. We shared our names and gave each other our welcoming vows and hit the hay afterwards. But it wasn’t any normal encounter I’ve had. I wouldn’t truly say it was love at first sight, but I did have a strong liking towards him. He wasn’t that bad upon the first page, but I guess the plot thickens after you dwell deeper into the story. He was a very interesting personality. Nobody had ever shown me that deal of fondness for me in the first few seconds, so i had to toss it up between either of three options- One: he was madly in love with me, two: he has a lust for pretty much all mares or three: he’s just very nice to mares. Part of me wants one to be true, but I guess it’s what happens when you meet that certain stallion...

     Nevertheless, I had a long first day at the Academy. The orientation was long and boring as hell, the Meet-A-Wonderbolt thing was really downright cheesy and no matter what I did as I tossed and turned in my bed on the very first night, I just couldn’t stop thinking about Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane.

     I think it’s fair to say that this was the part of my life where I first realised that these guys were going to have a profound effect on me as long as I stay in this Academy.

Chapter 3 – The Mystic Black and Blue

Chapter 3 - The Mystic Black and Blue

          Our days weren’t numbered from the start. Our course through the Academy was just a simple breeze to start with. Well, for me it was, anyway. Each day we would get up in the morning, go to the mess hall for breakfast, hang around, attend theory and practical exercises and run through a couple of tests and courses, get lunch, hang around some more, train, eat dinner and go to our cabins to either sleep or screw around for the night.

     It’s a continuous process of repetition, so that we, as potential Wonderbolts, can get relatively used to the repetitive processes Wonderbolts go through. It’s not a mentally healthy way of implication, but it works nevertheless. Of course, with this sort of process, you need some helping hands along the way.

     I became best friends with the two almost immediately. Rainbow Dash was such a pompous and cheerful character with a somewhat charismatic approach to people, yet at the same time presents herself as the “axis of awesome”, as she would always say to me! She and I had a mutual friendship; we would always look out for each other, sort of like best buds. Thunderlane was a slower character, but a great guy to hang around with nonetheless! He and I always worked well together, whether it be running a course as a team or competing against each other, we would always have a ball! I think, in a sense, we were, from the beginning, more than just best buds!

     Both Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane come from Ponyville, so they’ve known each other as well for many years, and they actually do get along with each other; occasionally. Thunderlane himself wasn’t the one to talk about Rainbow Dash in great detail. She and he are friends-with-a-catch. His persistence in the art of both laziness and manipulation conflict with Rainbow Dash’s imperialist attitudes and lack of tolerance for the kind of behavior Thunderlane presents whenever they try to co-operate with each other. When you present the two with the same problem, Rainbow Dash will seek to find the most effective and efficient way to deal with it, while Thunderlane would just find an easy way out, or, of course, get Rainbow Dash to solve it!

     Don’t get me wrong, they’re actually very good friends, sort of like something out of a cartoon; they hate each other, but they don’t actually hate each other! It’s always funny to watch the two sometimes, whenever they see problems. The entertainment value in seeing the two in conflict with each other is simply gold, but it’s always good to see Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane just chilling out with each other and some other friends including myself.

     When it’s the three of us, it was, indeed, somewhat of a head-turner in the Academy of an afternoon. We were undoubtedly the best of friends. Thunderlane would always show a great deal of care and respect for me, and I would show that same affection back. Rainbow Dash would always look out for me, and I would always be a spectator to the countless tricks and stunts that she would pull off during afternoon training sessions. I supported her all the way, even if it meant that Thunderlane and I would be practically the only ponies in the stand watching! I would always try to mimic her moves, but I would always stuff up!

     “You’ll be as good as me someday, don’t you worry!” she would always say to me.

     We would always go out to the Academy Grounds and go play a match or two of football against other ponies down at the park together. Mind you, along with the other ponies in our team, we were practically unbeatable. I was very good at catching, mainly because I had a more aware mind of my special surroundings and the depth of field in front of me than anyone else. I very rarely dropped a ball in any game. That’s why I would always be the first to run out to gain those extra yards or go for a catch past the touchdown line. Rainbow Dash was all for the speed, so when it’s decided that we should run with the ball instead, we just give it to her and see how the other team copes with that. Faster than a speeding bullet, she is responsible for much more than just 20% of the touchdowns we’ve scored in our amateur careers! Not at the very least of course, Thunderlane is always our Quarterback. He’s got the entire team mapped out in his head and every move we and the others make. He is always autonomously aware of his entire surroundings. He is, ultimately, the one who decides how we should play next within a justified space of time from the point where the ball lands in his hooves to initiate the play to the split second after he puts his left leg comfortably into the cloud behind him. Then he carries that plan out immediately.

     Football wasn’t the only thing the three of us were good at though, obviously. We were also A-grade players in practically every sport with teams of three or more players! The three of us were good at hitting a ball with a metal stick, aiming a ball at a hoop and plucking chips into a box, but I guess the appeal for football was more prominent considering everyone knew how to play, and were playing it, whereas Baseball and Basketball as such was more of a foreign thing. Baseball was more of a sport they would play in Manehattan if anything, and the only ponies I know that play Hockey with a passion are the stallions from Vanhoover. Thunderlane said he had a mare friend from Vanhoover at the Academy, but I never got to see her…

     Apart from all the physical stuff we do together, our friendship flew like a traveler going across the world. You never knew what to expect next!

     We were the trio that would never part, and would always stick together until the very end. We even promised to each other that we’d be a flying trio, should all three of us make it into the Wonderbolts; putting it into our own words at the time, of course, when all three of us become Wonderbolts. Confidence is everything, after all!

The Mystic Black and Blue; a name I will always remember the two by. Two figures that I never knew before had become the two ponies I trusted the most. Looking back on it now, I don’t know whether it was the fact that I never had a friend like them or the fact that their friends respectively were out of touch from them that brought us together like pieces of a larger puzzle. I started to question myself sometimes. Who are the Mystic Black and Blue?

     Who was Rainbow Dash? I remembered the day we met, she told me that life was weighing her down. She hadn’t seen her friends from Ponyville for a while, and she’s been separated a far distance from them.

“All my friends are a very busy in their own lives that I haven’t been able to talk to anyone of them recently. It’s been sorta weighing me down a bit, if you know what I mean. It… just seems hard since I’ve known and hung out with them for a while now, and I’ve never been this far apart.”

     I still didn’t know what to make of it, really. I’d be pondering it night and day without even asking. She was such a cheerful and passionate life-rider, but was there a side to Rainbow Dash I didn’t know? Is there a real Rainbow Dash hiding behind the veil of the pompous and consequential fake Rainbow dash she made to please herself? Maybe that’s how we became friends so instantaneously? The fact that she didn’t have anyone else besides Rainbow Dash in this Academy? Gosh, it was a brainstorm, but at my more diligent times, I would just shun it off as one of my absurdist mind-races that I would occasionally go off into, but then I would occasionally be proven otherwise…

     Other than Thunderlane and I, who else did she have? Sure, in our group we had other people that we train with, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re all friends. Some of us forget each other’s names sometimes! I would usually enter the mess hall of a lunchtime and see Rainbow Dash sitting by herself on one of the many tables the spacious and sometimes surprisingly over-crowded mess hall had to offer. Ponies would just pass by her every minute without even a look, just a casual walk past, not dilly-dallying in some other pony’s business of eating a sandwich or two. She didn’t even have food on the table sometimes, and it wasn’t because the line was too long. She would always seem sad and spaced-out within herself before she spots me. When she does, however, she immediately switches into a state of utter happiness, like someone was secretly operating her mood switch under the table!

     It seemed like friends were really important to Rainbow Dash, because, for some reason, she just doesn’t function without them, and it worried me sometimes, like, really worried me. Was Rainbow Dash feeling okay? I never asked her that question though, and ever since I graduated from the Academy, it’s been something I deeply regret. I should’ve asked, but I didn’t. Dash’s persistence on making it a whole big secret always threw me off-guard, and I would always keep forgetting that she may or may not have life problems. She seemed pretty okay with it all, but that was just probably her acting skills if anything!

     Then there’s Thunderlane. Who was the stallion behind the Black coat? He was probably suffering the same problem as Rainbow Dash, or at least those were my initial thoughts, but this couldn’t be true; he keeps getting letters from anonymous someponies every day! He obviously had somepony following him, although it obviously wasn’t letters from just one pony.

“Who are the letters from?”

    “Oh, some ponies…”

     He said it with guilt as well, but what did he have to be guilty about? Who were these “some ponies”, and how come I never seen them around? Thunderlane’s usually just around Rainbow Dash and I, and if not, serving as the bartender of an evening down at the cabin house’s lobby. Yeah, I forgot to mention earlier that Thunderlane volunteers as a bartender at this little bar next to the help desk in the cabin house’s unnecessarily huge and grand entrance. It was a wood-grain bar like any other, and I guess it fit well in a wood-grain house as well! The bar was there to interest ponies coming home to their cabins to a beverage. They had all the necessary liquids there: Water, Soda, Root Beer, imported Apple Cider and for those of eligible age like Thunderlane and I, clean and polished Beer, Rum and Whiskey! However, I don’t think a lot of ponies drank the alcoholic stuff for good reason, but Thunderlane did occasionally, just for kicks! He didn’t do anything more than two or three glasses of Beer. He wasn’t the sort of guy to get drunk off the stuff.

     The thing was, however, that a lot of mares besides us two would talk to Thunderlane, especially at that bar. I usually hung around in the lobby, sitting at one of the benches on the side of the room, so I would usually witness it all unfold. Sometimes Thunderlane would engage in long conversations with them and exchange witty remarks, like they know Thunderlane every well, but probably only just know him because he’s that charming and sexy stallion who serves drinks at the bar. However, some of the time, he would ignore these mares, sometimes even completely, after some time.

     I remember a tango between Thunderlane and a specific somepony once. I’m guessing the two had met before at once stage, because they seemed to relate so well from day one. She had a white coat and an over-arching mane, like the one stereotypical geeks would have, coloured in streams of green and pink. Blossomforth I think her name was! The two would always talk to each other at the bar. Talking like best buds, the two would always ask and listen to each other, inquiring about their day and occasionally flirting with one another as well! I’m sure “best buds” isn’t the appropriate wording for this situation! Sorry!

     Anyway, Thunderlane and Blossomforth were always in touch with each other at that bar; Blossomforth loved to finish the day with Orange Soda, so Thunderlane would serve her some, even before she managed to reach the bar upon entrance to the building! She never drank anything else from the bar, and Thunderlane knew this. She would take a seat at one end of the bar, and Thunderlane would slide the Soda across the table from the other side like a star in one of those action movies.

     He would also, as a joke, toss up a really bad pick-up line for Blossomforth just to provoke a reaction out of her, and it was pretty funny sometimes. I remember him saying to her once:

    “Your father must have been a thief, because he stole the stars and put them in your eyes”

     “No, actually he is a cop and I think I saw your mug on his most-wanted list.” She came back with.

     I also remember:

     “If you're feeling down, can I feel you up?”

     “Only if you want my hoof to make contact with your muzzle.”

     The two would laugh it off, but there was this complex in his voice when executing those cheesy lines of his that he really did want to get inside Blossomforth somehow, and it didn’t seem like she was resisting either. This happened to all the mares he encountered and grew fond of. I was beginning to suspect that he was some sort of mare-hunter. You know, one of those guys; the type of stallion that’s out there looking for mares to make that “connection with”. But he never invited any mare to his room, not even Blossomforth, which was strange, given the two’s very obvious lust for each other. I was confused about Thunderlane given this fact. Maybe he doesn’t really want to do it with all these mares, but just wants to have a strong relationship with somepony. Maybe he was looking for that somepony? If he was, however, Blossomforth should’ve been it. They had to be, but somehow it wasn’t to be, unfortunately.

     One random day, Thunderlane just stopped being social with Blossomforth for some odd and very mysterious reason. Sure, he still served her drink early, but Thunderlane was just ignoring her. She continued to try to talk to her, this time in a very romantic tone for another unknown reason, but even then, Thunderlane wasn’t interested. It came so suddenly, that even I was shocked! What happened between them that made Thunderlane want to ignore her and Blossomforth wanting more from him?

     The sad thing was, however, that after Blossomforth gave up on Thunderlane and just went past the bar every time she walked in, giving him the awkward look, in came another mare that he would make a lofty relationship with and then fall apart.

     The cycle seemed to repeat over and over and over again. It came to the point that a concernable number of mares were walking past the bar giving Thunderlane the look, and each time he was given the look, he expressed a great deal of guilt in his face. The same guilt he expressed when I asked him about those letters. Were these letters from these “some ponies” from his former lovers? If they are, that’s a lot of mares he’s disappointed.

     Was this Thunderlane’s problem; the fact that he can’t have a stable, happy relationship with a mare? Was the burden of having so many former mare-friends in his life weighing him down? I honestly didn’t know what I was thinking at the time. I became so convinced that this was fact and felt so sorry for Thunderlane that I felt like I needed to help him in the best possible way.

     How, you ask? Did I ask about his problems? Did I give him helpful advice? Did I try to get him out of this cycle?

     Looking back on it all, these were really plausible things to do. But the really insane fact was that I didn’t do any of the above. What did I do, you ask? I did something that changed both Thunderlane’s life and my life forever.

     I walked up to the bar and asked for a glass of Root Beer. Because the matter of fact was,

     I liked Thunderlane a bit.