It Flits In and Out of Your Life
"Watch out everypony, it's Crash Sentry!"
"Yeah, wouldn't want his clumsiness to rub off on us!"
The insults rolled off of the tan coated pegasus as he laid out on a soft cloud. His hooves dangled freely over the edge as he stared down at the ground far, far below. Their insults hurt. A little. But they hadn't gotten any more original as time went on. The same stupid disses over and over.
Well, at least it was better than them picking on somepony else. Flash knew he could handle it. It was just stupid words afterall.
"What's a grounder like Trash Sentry doing in flight school anyway?" a more familiar voice jeered. A dark maroon pegasus with a slicked back golden mane swooped into his line of sight. The older colt swept around and came in almost nose to nose with Flash. "Thinking about how much you miss the ground under your hooves, Trash? Scared of being up here in Cloudsdale?"
Flash tilted his head back at the uncomfortable breaking of his personal space and gave the hotheaded colt a leering look. "If I were scared of being this high up, I'd be taking the first opportunity to get down there and away from you, Strike," he growled.
Well, that certainly didn't help anything. He just had to go and make it worse, didn't he? And with Strike Wing no less! Him and his big mouth.
Strike's nostrils flared in a small puff of steam. "A clutz like you shouldn't be talking down to me. Or do you think you can take me on in a fight?"
Flash's eyes flicked down for a moment to the mark adorning Strike's flank. A hoof and wing of gold held crossed over each other as though the two were being struck together. From what Flash heard, Strike had found his mark rather early compared to most. He was a scrapper at heart, someone with a hair trigger temper that was quick to start fights. Unsurprisingly, that fighting ended up being his talent. Even at his young age, he was undeniably dominant as a fighter, on the ground or in the air. Nopony their age had ever beaten him.
What did Flash have? Nada. Zilch. Nothing. He was a blank flank, and the only pony his age that didn't have one yet. It was why he had joined Flight School in the first place. He hoped being here would help him figure that out.
Flash turned away, averting his eyes from the aggressive colt and shrinking back into himself. "N-no," he muttered. "I'm sorry."
He couldn't stand up to Strike. It wouldn't get him anywhere. All he would get for his troubles would be new bruises to add to the ones from his crashes. That wasn't the worst of it though.
"Is something wrong, you two?" a hard, stern voice came from behind Flash.
The snarl on Strike's face vanished in an instant, instead replaced with an incredibly unfitting smile. "Heya Dad! We were just debating how we were going to go about the obstacle race today!" he lied through his teeth.
Flash turned around to see a broad shouldered off white pegasus with a gristled gray mane that shimmered like newly polished metal. His stoic eyes, as gray as his mane, looked over the two of them critically. That gaze always made Flash feel as though his coat had been stripped away, leaving him completely exposed.
His mark was a pair of riveted metallic wings stretching out wide. The mark testified to an unmatched perseverance that once allowed him to fly for a full week without sleep or a single landing. His endurance alone was in the realm of legend.
Standing at attention, Flash winced as Strike gave him a not-so-gentle nudge in the ribs. "Nothing wrong at all! Right, Flash?"
"Right," Flash nodded reluctantly. "Everything is fine, Coach Iron Wing. Just getting ready to fly."
The hard eye of the coach swept over the two of them, followed by a smile. "Good. I expect the pairs I assigned to get along. Don't play too nice though. You are opponents for the rest of your final year here, and I expect you both to push each other's limits." He looked to Strike and added in a much sterner tone, "And Strike Wing, while you're in class I am your coach, not your father. Address me properly."
"Yes Coach," Strike nodded firmly. "Good, now get ready, you two," Iron Wing barked. "Limber up with 30 wing ups and get your tails over to the starting line. It's your pair's turn to run the short obstacle track. The loser has to do twenty laps around the school grounds."
"Yes Coach!" both of the young colts answered.
Iron Wing nodded and took off into the sky, veering off towards the course as the eyes of the colts followed.
Almost as soon as their coach was out of sight and earshot, another hard elbow struck Flash's ribs. He coughed and sputtered at the unexpected blow as his breathing was thrown off.
"Ready to lose again, Trash?" Strike jeered, now already propped up on just his wings and starting the exercise they had been assigned.
Flash held his tongue, but had no end of angry thoughts directed at his very much unwanted partner and rival. Reluctantly, he followed suit. Saying those thoughts out loud would just make things worse for him. The last thing he wanted was to get beaten up and get in trouble in school on top of that. He also knew that those same reasons were why Strike even had what could be called friends. They just were scared of him, and of getting in trouble with his dad. That's why they went along with everything he did.
What Flash really didn't understand was why they were paired up in the first place. They were told the pairs were chosen so that each was close to the same skill level. Despite that, Flash had never come close to winning against Strike in any of the competitions. The only explanation that made sense to Flash was that Iron Wing was favoring his son in the selection.
Strike took off, already done with his warm up, leaving with one last comment, "Can't wait to see how you wipe out this time!"
A twinge of anger shot through Flash, but he swallowed it down for his own good. Once he finished, he took off into the sky for what he expected would be yet another failure of a race. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try his hardest though. He wanted to win.
~*~*~*~*~*~
An explosion rocked a small home in the outer reaches of Canterlot as Flash came gliding in. The home was nestled high into the mountainside, where the houses started to thin out and the slopes grew steeper. It was easily the highest point in Canterlot, besides the many ivory towers of the royal palace. The otherwise seemingly tranquil home now looked a complete disaster, with billows of black smoke pouring from every window and more than a few patchwork vents.
This wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last. This was proven by the deep set in black staining that lined every opening, a harsh contrast to the soft blue and white tones of the home. The sight of smoke was hardly a worry to Flash. If he could see flames, then he would be worried.
A flicker of something different caught Flash's eye. He took a closer look and saw an errant storm cloud floating out of one of the vents. No doubt part of what caused the explosion. The sight brought a small smile to the young pegasus's face.
A typical evening. It was honestly just what he needed after the day he'd been having.
With a gentle flap of sore wings, Flash swept down and flew in just above the rising cloud. When it reached him, he rested his hooves gently on the temperamental cumulonimbus and guided it back down. He had to be careful, or else he would get a nasty shock of lightning into his system. He hadn't been shocked yet in his life, and that was an experience he hoped to avoid as long as possible. Especially with how painful he'd heard other ponies say it feels. He could practically feel all that power lurking beneath the dark surface of the cloud. The pillowy object had an unmistakable tingle under his hooves from the electricity pulsing around inside it.
He thankfully managed to push the dense cloud through the open living room window without a discharge. The air was mostly clear of smoke by the time he got it in, with only a thin layer of smog obscured his sight. It was just enough to bring a few small coughs out of him.
Guiding the cloud over and letting it float lazily in the center of the room, Flash called out, "Dad! I'm home! And I caught your cloud for you!"
A cacophony of shuffling and crashing could be heard from upstairs. A particularly loud dragging sound creaked through the house, followed by a dull thud. Flash waited as the noises, big and small continued, until finally his father's voice floated down from the stairway, "Could you bring that cloud up here, Flash? Seems I made a bigger mess than usual today."
"Got it!" he called back.
Flash pushed the cloud up the stairs and down the hall to where he knew his father was, the study. Well, given what his dad had done with the space, calling it a laboratory would probably be more appropriate.
Devices lined the walls from end to end, some of them were tall boxes covered with screens and buttons. Those were for gathering data with special sensory attachments. Others were hung up on the wall, and were more for viewing. You could probably call them trophies. Everything from a digital calculator to one of those brand new hoofheld games that were like a portable arcade console. Heck, there would probably have been a whole arcade game around somewhere if there had been any room for it.
Flash's personal favorite was a little orb with a small pole in it ending in a ball. That ball would send dozens of little tendrils of electricity to the inner walls of its spherical shell, and if you touched a hoof to the outside, the electricity would arc towards that spot.
The numerous devices that littered the walls were his father's pride and joy. He hadn't been the one to invent them, but his discoveries in the nature of lightning, electricity, and how they work led to the creation of these devices. He always said that these inventions were like grandchildren sprung from the second child that was his research.
The proud 'grandparent' himself stood at the center of the room. A soft blue glow from his horn swept the last bits of soot from himself and his workspace, and righted a fallen, vacuum tube ridden computer.
The unicorn looked every bit the mad scientist stereotype. A disheveled dark blue mane streaked with a few small lines of soot, and sky blue fur that was similarly dirtied. He wore a long white lab coat that had several holes from burns and rips, and a set of goggles rested lopsided on his face. It was almost comical how one of the lenses was halfway falling off of one of his eyes, while the other was dangling from his horn by the strap.
The extreme science vibe he had was only added to by his Cutie Mark, which was also worn proudly on his coat where it overlapped the real thing. It was a coiling spiral with a ball at the tip, and electricity radiating from the ball.
Yeah, that was his dad alright. Arca Tesla.
"Haha! Wonderful! Simply wonderful!" Tesla cackled. "Another little bit of progress! Nothing like a good explosion to keep the nerves sharp! I still need more data though." In his excitement, he stamped his hoof on a scorched ring that marred the floor.
Flash gave a light tap of his hoof on the doorframe, which got his father's attention. Tesla's expression perked up as he saw both his son and the errant cloud. Another glow from his horn wrapped carefully around the cloud and brought it over to rest lazily against the roof.
"Thanks son," Tesla smiled, "If this little guy had gotten away, I would have had to postpone my research until I could get the weather team to bring me a new one."
Flash nodded happily and trotted over to examine the wide scorched mark on the floor. This one seemed bigger than the usual ones. He asked the question buzzing in the back of his head, "What are you researching today, Dad?"
Tesla's expression lit up as he reached over and yanked his son to his side, "Glad you asked my boy! I'm restarting my research on my Lightning Conversion Theory!" His face held a strange mix of excitement and frustration. No doubt he was thinking of all the failure and grief this problem had caused him. As he always said though, failing only meant you found one wrong way to do something.
"Ah,"Flash nodded in understanding, "that theory of yours that lightning can be taken in its natural state and converted into raw elemental mana?"
"Exactly! I'm glad you remembered! It makes your pops proud that you pay attention to his research!" Tesla's grin spread from ear to ear in pride as he levitated a huge notebook over and opened it. The pages flipped by in a blur until they stopped on a pair of pages packed to the brim with notes and formulas, but was half marked out with furious scribbles.
Flash could have sworn those scribbles hadn't been there last time he saw it.
Tesla tapped a hoof to the pages and explained, "I haven't touched this page in over a year, but just this morning I was forced to abandon half of it! Everything I marked out was completely wrong!"
A sudden breakthrough? Flash could remember clearly that his dad had put that problem aside because he couldn't identify which parts of his theory were flawed, and adamantly refused to start from scratch. He said that starting over felt like a betrayal to the all the effort he had put in to evolve the theory from a simple hypothesis. But what had caused him to bring it back off of the shelf?
"Did you get a sudden bit of inspiration and figure out how to continue?" Flash guessed, his eyes flicking over the equations. Looking close didn't really help him though. All of these calculations were nothing but gibberish to Flash. Sure, his father's research was always exciting and he loved to hear about it, but if there was one thing Flash knew he wasn't, it was a scientist.
He could stare until he was blue in the face and he wouldn't be able to understand a single line of it.
"Nope!" Tesla laughed. "The truth is worse. Much worse!" Despite what he said, he was still smiling, still bubbling with the excitement that his work brought him. "I was called out in class today! All the flawed pieces in my work were poked out one in the middle of my lecture! It was incredible!"
Flash wondered what sort of student could have managed to unstump his problem like that, his ears perking in interest. His father taught advanced classes on electromagnetism in nature and magic at one of Canterlot's most prestigious academies. He liked to call it his hobby even though it was a bigger source of income than his research was. The only pony that had been able to keep up with him in his field was the scientist Eddy Sun, who discovered direct current electricity before Tesla. That was an event which the proud scientist overdramatically proclaimed was a disgrace he would never be able to live down.
"What pony could have done all that, Dad? This thing had you stumped for longer than anything has!" Flash wondered aloud.
Tesla started cracking up all of the sudden. He laughed as though he were thinking of the funniest joke on the planet. "It was a filly!" he cackled. "A little filly that couldn't have been more than two years younger than you!"
"What?!" Flash gawked in disbelief. A little filly, even younger than him, had managed to understand and untangle the problems in his dad's theory? That was just crazy!
"Oh you should have seen her, she was just adorable with her little book filled saddlebags on her way to school," Tesla gushed. "That little unicorn was just passing by outside my classroom window when she poked her head in and interrupted my lesson. She had seen my theory written on the chalkboard as she went by."
Flash was dumbstruck at the very idea that a pony so young could be so smart. All of this looked no different to him than something drawn by a monkey, and yet a girl younger than him did all that!
Tesla glanced over to see the look on Flash's face. Mouth agape, eyes wide, and expression stupefied, it was too hilarious.
Tesla snorted as he tried to hold back his mirth, but it quickly devolved into more cackles and hoots. "Hahahahaha! That look on your face! That's the same one that everypony in the room had as she systematically ripped my work apart with that adorable little voice of hers. I wish I had gotten her name. Mark my words, that little filly is going to accomplish great things in her lifetime!"
In his vigorous excitement, Tesla gave a playful bump against Flash's shoulder. The light impact sent a loud hiss wheezing out from between Flash's clenched teeth.
The scientist's expression quickly turned serious."You're hurt again? What happened, Flash?" Tesla asked, brow knitted with worry. "Are you still being bullied? Did they hurt you?"
Great, dad found out about this one too.
Flash took a step back, rubbing the sore bruise that only barely showed through his fur. Thankfully, he didn't have to lie, but his father was as sharp as any lie detector anyway.
"Yes, I am being bullied still, Dad," Flash admitted, "but this wasn't because of them. I ran the short obstacle course today and I crashed into the swinging rings." He met his father's stare unflinchingly. He stood under his father's intensely scrutinous eye as his injury was examined.
Tesla sighed, "Alright, but be sure to tell me if it ever gets that bad, okay?" He was clearly unhappy that any bullying was happening in the first place, but they'd already come to an agreement on that particular issue.
"I will, Dad. I promise," Flash assured him. Flash turned away and spotted a strange multicolored object laying on one of the many junk ridden counters. It was almost gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through one of the open windows. The extra light only made the spectral stripes that ran diagonally across its surface seem all the more vibrant. He'd never seen one for real, but it was unmistakable.
"That's a zap apple!" Flash beamed, rushing over to the counter to get a closer look. "Oh wow! I've never seen a whole one before! I thought they all got crushed into jam. How did you get it?"
Tesla grinned and dusted his hoof on his chest. "I paid triple price for that apple and a whole jar's worth of others down in the fridge. Double price to convince the Apple family that grows them to not crush them, and the rest to get them delivered express by pegasus delivery. It was worth every last bit I paid."
Flash gave his father a confused look. "You paid that much extra just to eat whole zap apples instead of jam?"
"Hahaha, no. No," Tesla chuckled, waving a hoof dismissively. He trotted over and picked up the apple in his hoof and lifted up Flash's own to give it to him. "Well, actually, this one is for you to eat, and I will have one myself. The rest are for my research though. After this morning I just had to get my hooves on some. Their harvest period ends tomorrow, so I had no time to waste!"
"Your research?" Flash tilted his head. He looked at the gleaming surface of the apple, his mouth watering slightly.
Tesla produced another zap apple from a coat pocket, puffing a light breath on it and rubbing it clean on his lab coat. "Nopony knows how, but zap apples absorb lightning and use it to grow, producing their amazing and unique flavor. I've already discovered that once they are fully grown there is no longer any trace of physical lightning in them. There is, however, an overwhelming abundance of lightning elemental mana."
He lifted the apple in his magic and turned it around so that Flash could see two small holes in one side of the apple. The immediate area around the two holes was also more pale and faded, as though a bit of the life had been pulled from it. Next a small electrode was lifted up from the floor and held next to the apple.
"You're looking at the source of that explosion earlier. I stuck two of these nodes in and hooked it up to a meter. The flux of mana was so huge, it blew the thing to cinders!" Tesla explained, more and more enthusiasm creeping into his voice. "I'm gonna need a new mana meter, but it was worth it! I think that somehow the tree and its blossoms convert the physical lightning into more mana. That might explain the extreme abundance of it."
Flash looked back and forth between his apple, his father's, and the scorch mark on the floor. A little apple had caused that? And it only looked like a small bit of the mana in it had been extracted? He gulped audibly, "A-are you sure this is okay to eat, Dad? Is it safer as a jam?"
The proud scientist shook his head. "Don't worry, you need a special spell or another electric charge to cause a reaction to occur. All of that mana affects the taste, and your body can only absorb as much natural and magical energy from it as it would from anything else you eat."
Oh, that made sense. At least, it sounded like it did to Flash. He never understood all of the high science and math behind these things, but the concepts themselves were easy enough to grasp. He wouldn't be much of a son of a scientific genius if he couldn't do that much, at the very least. Plus his dad was pretty good at explaining things to him in a simple way.
Flash nodded, content with the explanation. A smile crept across his face as his father put a hoof around his neck and led him out of the room. The two of them went to the dining room and enjoyed their zap apples together.
Conversation over the table was animated as Tesla went on about his research. If he could prove that zap apples converted lightning into pure mana, and how they did it, it would be a huge breakthrough. It would prove his Lightning Conversion Theory to be true, and it could mean great things for technological progress.
Flash told his dad about how his day at school had been too. He avoided the topic of the bullying going on, and only mentioned Strike Wing as far as their little race was concerned. He talked about how he had been going strong at the beginning, but then he lost control when he tried to maneuver through the rings.
That always seemed to be the case. He was fine in a straight shot, and casual flying was absolutely no problem for him. Something about sharp maneuvers always sent him off balance, and Coach Iron Wing had told Flash it was up to him to figure out why, or getting past it wouldn't mean as much. Like always, Flash openly verbalized to his father how frustrated he was that the coach seemed to know what he was doing wrong, but had no intentions of telling him what it was.
Tesla only nodded and listened intently. It was the most he could do on the subject of flying. He had no wings. He was a unicorn, and it was a difficult difference to overcome as a parent.
Flash stopped in the middle of rambling about all the little things he thinks he could be doing wrong. He saw that Tesla was looking at him over the table with a distant glaze over his eyes. Yeah, Flash knew that look. He always knew what his dad was thinking about when he saw that look.
Flash stopped talking and stared back at his dad. Seconds ticked by as they watched each other across the table, Flash waiting expectantly.
Finally Tesla snapped out of it, realizing that his son had stopped talking and saw the look that he was getting sent back at him. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Flash," he apologized, tossing the leftover zap apple core he had into the trash. "I know I say this a lot, but... you remind me more and more of your mother, Ely, every day. I just can't help myself sometimes."
Flash looked away too, turning to see a picture stuck on the door of the fridge with a magnet. It was faded with age, but it showed a young stallion and mare with their hooves wrapped around each other. Behind them was one of Canterlot's many beautiful vistas, peering out from the edge of the mountainside city with a nearly unmatched view of the expanses of Equestria beyond it. They looked as happy as could be as they stared into the camera with small, gentle smiles.
The stallion on the left was a younger image of Tesla. His goggles were miraculously fastened properly over his horn, and they had somehow managed to get him out of his lab coat for the picture.
The pegasus mare on the right was an absolute beauty. Her gentle, almost angelic features were covered by the same tan fur that Flash had gotten from her. Her mane looked like it was spun from gold and honey, seeming to flow with life even in the still photograph. Perhaps most striking were her sharp azure eyes, which looked alight with joy, but also held something else in them. Whenever Flash felt lonely or scared, looking into her eyes here always seemed to calm him somehow.
The only thing the photo didn't show... was her cutie mark. He knew almost nothing about his mother, actually. He knew what she looked like, and that she was called 'Ely' by most. He didn't even know her full name. He didn't know what her job was, what her special talent was, or even what kind of pony she was aside from the kindness he could see in her eyes.
His dad was adamant though; he wasn't going to tell Flash anything about his mother until he got his own cutie mark. That was their deal. While Flash didn't like it, he hoped that his dad had a good reason for it.
"I know it's tough, but please bear with it," Tesla said, as though reading Flash's mind. He took a deep breath and got down from his seat, trotting slowly out of the room as he added, "I promise that you'll be glad you waited to know her. I have my reasons. I'll be upstairs continuing my research if you need me for anything."
Flash nodded slowly, taking one last bite out of his own apple. He made sure to savor the unparalleled zing of flavor, since it was bound to be a full year before he could have some again. There was a strange tingling sensation in his mouth as he ate, but it passed away quickly. That was certainly odd, but he shrugged it off as he tossed the core into the trash and went outside.
He needed to train. No bullies at home to distract him. If he wanted to get his cutie mark, he needed to learn how to fly properly. He should have had his mark by now, and he felt like this issue with high speed maneuvers had to be what was keeping him from getting it. He would figure this out. He would start winning contests against Strike. He would get his mark and finally learn just who his mother was!
Flash was so caught up in his rush of determination that he barely registered the strong tingling feeling that swept through his body from his hooves to his wingtips. He just galloped straight out the door and looked to the sky above. Stretching his wings out wide, he did as he always did and swung them down, shooting him into the air.
This time, however, something new happened.
The powerful tingling feeling shot straight into his wings. In that instant they snapped down, followed by a familiar and explosive cracking sound.
The next thing Flash knew, he was eating a cloud that had been a good hundred meters above him. Still his body soared through the air, pulling the cloud along with it. He coughed and spat out a mouthful of the pillowy mass of moisture, and looked up to see blue sky and still more clouds that he was flying up towards at top speed. A panicked scream tore from his lips as he swung himself around and flapped in reverse to try to stop.
It only got worse.
Instead of slowing, he felt as though his body was suddenly being crushed. The sensation lasted for even less than half of a second, and with another powerful crack, he was suddenly plummeting straight back to the ground! The wind roared in his ears and tore at his wings. He could feel the blood draining from his head. His thoughts started to get fuzzy, and his vision started to go white. The last thing he saw was the ground shooting up to meet him, and he heard his father's voice.
"Flash! NO!"
Author's Note
Yup, this is my Flash Sentry story. I am basing this story off of the concept of how I have portrayed Flash Sentry in my other Story, Dragoon Wars. This is meant to function as a backstory that fits that Flash perfectly, but at the same time I am leaving it open-ended enough to stand completely on its own.
Hope you all enjoy this little ride I'll be taking you all on. I hope to keep this story at only a handful of chapters in length. Like somewhere between five and ten.
After a long week, Flash was excited to finally see the familiar nimbus-crafted structures of the Cloudsdale Flight School.
Even he was surprised at how happy he was to be back. He knew why though; he was ready to win. The past week had been hard, but he finally understood now.
As he glided in closer to the ivory entry gates that lead to the school grounds, Flash put on speed. In only three flaps he hit his peak speed, and with a flare of his pinions, he slowed into a gentle touchdown on the surface of the clouds.
Flash paused for a moment to look past the gates. Tiny multicolored dots zipped through the air beyond them. The students were doing their warm-up exercises from the looks of it, and the usual white noise of excited chatter reached even this far. Nopony noticed his arrival yet either.
Another typical day at Flight School.
Well, it wouldn't be soon. Flash was ready to put an end to his reputation as a clutz. No more crashes. No more bruises. No more being made fun of. He was going to show them all what he could really do.
As Flash took off into the school grounds, he heard the piercing call of the coach's whistle. That was good, he was just in time. Even better was that he was able to slip into the back of the crowd of students as they gathered up in front of the teacher.
A strangely loud murmuring came from the front of the group. That was odd. Usually everypony was dead silent waiting for roll call and the first competition of the day.
"Whoa, no way! Is that...?!"
"What's she doing here?"
The noise grew to a dull roar as Flash craned his neck to see what was going on. Unfortunately, he had no luck catching a glimpse. Whatever it was had to be special though.
Then came the shrill, piercing shriek of the whistle again. This time twice as loud. It was followed by immediate silence as Flash and all the other students stood cringing in pain with their ears folded closed.
"Alright everypony, form a row! Single file!" The voice that barked at them was that of a mare. Definitely not the coach. Still, the authority and power behind it were enough to send everypony into a scramble. "Move your flanks! I've seen newborn foals faster than all of you!"
Fillies and colts stumbled over each other in a mad rush. What should have been a simple task ended up taking much longer than it should have.
Once Flash clambered into a spot in the growing line, he saw who was causing such a big fuss. It was a hard-eyed mare with a deep sun-yellow coat. Her mane looked like fire flowing from her head, and her posture was one of total authority and confidence. However, what really stood out was her clothes; a form-fitting sea blue flightsuit with a light sky blue underbelly. A lightning pattern travelled the length of the suit, dividing the dark and light halves.
There wasn't a pegasus alive that didn't know her name now. It was Spitfire, the youngest pony to ever become a Wonderbolt.
What was she doing here at Flight School? And where was Coach Iron Wing? He wasn't anywhere to be seen.
Once all of the students were lined up in front of her, Spitfire stepped forward. "Alright, listen up," she commanded, sweeping her eyes over the class, "My name is Spitfire, and I'm going to be your coach for the next few days. Coach Iron Wing is currently under the weather with a bad case of the feather flu, and I'm substituting for him."
Her sheer presence was a powerful force, keeping all of the young ponies at rapt attention. At least, until a hoof shot up next to Flash as one colt boldly asked, "Miss Spitfire, why is a Wonderbolt like you substituting at Flight School?"
A good question.
Spitfire turned a stern eye to the outspoken colt and said, "That's Coach Spitfire to you all, and don't speak out of turn." When the colt stiffened and fell silent, she went on to explain, "If you must know, Iron Hoof created an unmatched endurance training regiment for the Wonderbolts' exclusive use a few years back. They owed him for it, so when he couldn't find a replacement on short notice, they sent me. That answer your question?"
The outspoken colt nodded vigorously, fearful.
A good question, for sure, but not good timing.
"Okay then, the introduction is out of the way," Spitfire cleared her throat, adopting a calm smile. She seemed no less ferocious. "It wasn't that many years ago that I was a student here just like all of you, so I know how things work around here. As such, I expect only one thing out of all of you; your absolute best."
She paced down the length of the line, like a drill sergeant before a fresh batch of soldiers. Flash didn't dare look anywhere but forward as she turned about and paced past him. There wasn't a peep. She had all of them right in her hooves.
"Now, I know full well that not everypony is Wonderbolt material. I'm not expecting that. Some of you may want to be weatherponies, or in the cloud construction business. Hay, you may even want to be an artist or writer, or something else that has nothing to do with flying," Spitfire explained bluntly. "But there is one thing that I know you all have in common."
With a flap of her wings, Spitfire rose up slightly and continued her pacing inches off the clouds. She stopped when she doubled back to the center of the line and swept her hoof out to point at all of them. "You're pegasi. We have warrior blood flowing through every last one of us. No matter how big or small it is, that means every one of us has a desire to be the absolute best we can be. Am I right, everypony?"
"Yes Coach Spitfire!" the entire class shouted in unison.
"So will you all be giving me one hundred and ten percent out there?" she grinned.
"Yes Coach Spitfire!" the answer repeated, louder still.
Some of the tension and nervousness was leaving Flash's body. Instead he was feeling more pumped than ever. It was true. He wanted to be his very best, and he wanted to show it to everypony here. Her declaration spoke to his desires, and made him all the more confident that today was going to be a new start for him.
"Alright then, fillies and colts," Coach Spitfire grinned, pulling a clipboard from under her wing, "once roll call is finished, I want all of you featherbrains to get into your pairs and get your flanks out by the start of the race course. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Coach Spitfire!" they echoed one last time.
Roll call was a quick affair after that. It wasn't long before everypony took off to the starting line and got into their pairs. Reluctantly, Flash set down next to Strike Wing, bracing himself for the usual insults.
To his surprise, none came.
Flash looked to Strike in confusion. This was a first. Usually Strike never missed a single chance to throw an insult out and make fun of him in some way. Instead, the maroon colt's eyes faced forward. He barely even acknowledged Flash's presence. The most he gave was a sideways glare that lasted all of a second before looking straight ahead again.
Could it be that with Spitfire as their coach instead of Iron Wing, he didn't have the nerve to bully? This day just kept getting better and better.
"Alright, the course for this morning will be the ascending-descending course. Your rising and diving speed, as well as your ability to shift rapidly between the two of them will be put to the test," Spitfire explained. She waved a hoof to the open sky behind her. Where the cloud flooring they stood on ended, extended a long stretch of cloud rings, alternating between low and high. Each ring was large, with more than enough space for two ponies to fly through at once.
"You must fly through every ring in order. If you skip one, you lose automatically," she continued. "As I'm sure you all know, this kind of course isn't terribly difficult. The hardest part is really the switch from dive to climb. Be mindful of how fast you can slow in a dive and don't overshoot your target. This kind of track is all about controlling your momentum properly. Any questions?"
Now this was a course Flash could get excited about. He could almost taste the future victory.
When no questions were asked, the young Wonderbolt quickly scanned her clipboard. Seeming to come to a decision, she announced, "Strike Wing and Flash Sentry; you two are up first."
Okay, this was officially the best day ever. The stars were aligning, or Karma was finally on his side, or whatever other phrase for good luck there was. He wouldn't have to wait and watch others fly. He'd get to strut his stuff right away.
Flitting up over the rest of the class, Flash landed at the edge of the cloud, which served as the starting line. Strike landed beside him a moment later, still silent.
Flash could just feel the excitement building up in him. Everything was going so perfectly. It honestly couldn't get any better right now. His confidence was at an all-time high.
"Get ready to lose today," Flash jeered.
The only sign of a reaction from Strike was his brow furrowing and his eyes narrowing. His gaze didn't move from the track in front of him for a second. Flash smiled cheekily at the lack of retaliation of any sort. This was just so perfect. He didn't even care that he could hear the jeers and insults that some of the viewing students whispered about him.
They'd all see soon.
Spitfire took off to land over by the finish line. She gave a short wave and both Flash and Strike lowered into their starting positions. They spread their wings wide and fanned their pinions out. Their hooves scored against the firm clouds beneath them. They were ready. They waited until they heard...
Spitfire put the whistle to her lips and let out the familiar piercing tweet.
In the blink of an eye, Flash pushed his wings down and shot into the air. He took a quick lead ahead of Strike and flew through the first upper ring. Strike was right behind Flash as he pulled into dive, aiming for the first lower ring. The lead was short-lived, as halfway through the dive, Strike went barrelling by Flash.
This was the deciding point. Flash knew Strike was faster than him. If this race had been more of a straight shot, Flash knew he would lose. He would have performed better than he had before, but he still would have lost. This course, however, was perfect for him.
As the two pegasi neared the lower ring, Strike flared his wings to slow his descent. Instead of doing the same, Flash kept going and took the lead again. He didn't slow down at all, much to the surprise of the onlookers.
"You're coming in too hot, Flash! Slow down!" Spitfire shouted from the other end of the track. "Crazy colt, he's gonna overshoot the ascension point if he keeps that up," she muttered under her breath.
Flash paid no heed to the warning. He reached the low ring and in that instant fanned his wings out. He slowed for only a half second, losing a small chunk of his momentum. It looked like he was going to overshoot it, just like Spitfire and everyone else thought.
Instead, in the next instant, his wings snapped down and he shot right up to the next ring without missing a beat. Only the faintest signs of rigor showed on the colt's face from the strain of the momentum change.
"Wha-?" was the collective statement of bewilderment.
Even Spitfire was scarcely able to believe her eyes. She'd pulled out of high speed dives before. Faster ones than this colt had performed, but even then she would have had to slow herself down a good five yards from the ring in order to make it. On top of that, the G-forces from a shift like that were intense. Very few ponies could handle the strain, and yet it looked as though those forces seemed nearly nonexistent for him.
Flash broke into a huge grin as he reached the next high ring, which hovered even higher than the first. Strike had only climbed half of the distance, though all Flash knew and cared about was that he was winning. He was winning! That week of intense home training had been completely worth it!
This was his strength in flight. His agility.
He wasn't the fastest pegasus. Far from it. He understood that perfectly well now. He didn't need to be; not when he could go from a dead stop to full speed in just three flaps of his wings. On top of that, he could turn on a dime too. His body instinctively knew how to change the direction of his momentum while barely losing any speed. All while bringing the strain on his body to a minimum.
Acceleration and agility. These two skills fed each other. With them, he could stay at his peak speed for the maximum amount of time while slowing down as little as possible. That was why this was a perfect course for him.
Flash stooped into a dive when he passed through the ring. He squinted against the rushing winds, and brought all of his focus forward.
Behind him, Strike started to gain once more, but had to slow his own dive before he could pull ahead. Flash just kept charging forward. Just like last time, right when he passed through the ring, he turned his momentum upward and almost effortlessly rose again.
Little by little, with every switch, Strike fell farther behind. Flash, on the other hoof, surged ahead. He zig-zagged up and down through the rings with everything he had. His wings and lungs burned like fire as he pushed himself as hard as he could.
Then finally, after one last high ring, he turned down and swerved in through the finish line ring. His hooves skidded along the cloud surface as he came to a halt beside Spitfire. His breath came out in ragged gasps.
He was wiped, but he had won. He'd won! His first ever victory!
His head was swimming a little from pushing himself so hard, and his wings were already hanging dead at his sides, but he'd won. The only thing that could make this moment more perfect would be if he finally had his cutie mark.
Flash turned to look back at his flank. Nope. Still blank. Why? What was he missing? He was so close he could taste it, and that feeling only served to frustrate him.
Ten seconds after Flash's finish, Strike landing down beside him. He puffed out haggard breaths, just as winded from the race. The expression on his face said it all to Flash. He looked as though he couldn't even recognize the blue-mane pegasus. All was silent, aside from their labored breaths, until from the other end of the course, there was an eruption of cheering, hooting, and hollering.
"Woo! You did it, Flash!"
"That was incredible!"
"How did you fly like that?!"
An excited grin spread across Flash's muzzle as the cheering continued. Everything was different now, especially after a total upset like this. He was done with being called Trash Sentry. He wouldn't have another crash like those again, because he knew why they happened now. He had been over-correcting himself when he went through hard turns. He would instinctively shift his momentum at a rate that he was never prepared for. He'd been in the mindset of taking turns just like everypony else, but when he took them so sharply, it would throw off his rhythm horribly and led to countless crashes. Now that he understood, he was ready for them, and could use it to his advantage.
"Sentry. Strike," Spitfire called. The two colts trotted over immediately, Flash grinning cheekily at a stony-eyed Strike. "Good flying, both of you," she nodded. "Strike, as the loser, I want you to go and fly ten laps around the school. Keep a brisk pace, and don't slow down."
With a nod, Strike took to the skies and veered off to do his laps.
Flash's grin was growing so wide that his jaw was actually starting to hurt. This grin promptly faded as Spitfire's piercing eyes leveled at him. She looked him over for a second, before a small smile tugged at the corner of her muzzle. "That was some pretty impressive flying out there for a young colt," she said in a surprisingly relaxed tone. "Take a breather here with me while we watch the rest of the races."
Flash nodded eagerly, quickly taking his place next to the coach as she looked over her clipboard.
"Alright, next up is Sky Ripper and Tailwind," Spitfire shouted across the track. When the two colts took positions, she blew the whistle and they were off, zipping through the rings one after another. She spoke just for Flash to hear as her eyes tracked the racing colts, "You were barely over a minute and thirty seconds. I don't think any of the other students will be able to match a time like that."
Flash grinned so wide that he felt like his cheeks would tear. He had never been so happy!
Soon the next two racers finished, both of them timing in at only a little under two minutes. The victor was Sky Ripper, a colt with a deep navy blue coat and a black mane streaked with a single zig-zag of white. His cutie mark was a single golden coin split in two by a jagged crack. He had a smug grin on his face as though his victory were the only possible conclusion.
In second/last place was his friend Tailwind. The shorter colt touched down behind Sky in a rush of dark gold, his brown mane hanging over his eyes. His mark was a white cloud being pushed along by a gust of wind.
The two of them trotted over after catching their breath. Spitfire promptly sent Tailwind off to begin his laps and Sky Ripper took a spot next to Flash to watch the next race.
"I guess nopony can make fun of you now, can they?" Sky said in a hushed tone after the coach blew her whistle.
Flash cast him a suspicious look. He was one of Strike's 'friends' that laughed whenever Flash was picked on. "Not anymore," Flash whispered, a wary tinge to his voice.
Much to Flash's surprise, Sky placed a hoof on his shoulder and smiled wider. "Hey, I want to apologize. I know I've just stood by while Strike bullied you," he apologized quietly. "It wasn't cool, but none of us felt like we could stop him with his father as our coach. You understand, right?"
Flash couldn't really fault that logic. It was half of the reason that he'd never bothered to try to stand up to Strike himself, so he couldn't really hold it against others. They were in the same boat as him, in that regard, so he have a quiet nod and a small smile in return.
The two of them returned their attention forward as the next two racers shot through the goal sing one after the other. As before, the loser took off to fly laps around the school, while the winner took a spot off to the side to relax. Flash got another congratulation from this winner. And the next one. And the one after that. Flash could hardly believe how much acknowledgement he was getting for his first major win.
Once everypony had finished the race and the losers came back from all of their laps, the usual training began. Everypony broke off into their pairs again and went about exercise patterns that Coach Spitfire assigned to each of them. She would fly back and forth across the class, correcting students' workouts, demanding new repetitions of exercises done earlier, and generally working everypony as hard as she could within reason. She was every bit as dogged and authoritative as one expected of a wonderbolt.
All the while, as Flash and Strike went about their exercises, Strike never said a word. He never even looked at Flash for more than a second, and instead just went through every stretch and exercise with a stoic weak he'd never shown before. Honestly Flash couldn't be more pleased with this. The less attention he got from Strike, and the quieter the bully was, the better.
After the first few hours of hard workout, things wound down with two more hours of lectures and demonstrations from Coach Spitfire on different aerial maneuvers and their practical applications. The class was expected to perform each maneuver three times in a row successfully before moving on to the next one. Much to the students' glee, however, Spitfire did show off a few advanced tricks from Wonderbolts routines just for fun. They were all in awe as they watched her maneuver through the sky with amazing speed and grace.
Of course, they weren't allowed to practice these moves themselves. They were likely to hurt themselves trying.
After the lecture was a late lunch, and then back to more physical training, with some new routines to work with the moves they'd just been taught. This workout was lighter though, as a wind-down to get ready for class-end races. This one was a long track race a lot like the one Flash had crashed in a week ago, but with more and different obstacles this time. Teams raced through one by one, with the same laps being doled out to the losers.
Halfway through the class and Flash and Strike were up again. Flash took an early lead with his quick acceleration, and flew over, around, and through the obstacles as nimbly as could be. The obstacles didn't slow Strike down as much as the diving and climbing had, unfortunately, and with his greater speed he overtook Flash in the last quarter of the race and won.
Even though he had to fly laps, Flash was still happy. He wouldn't be able to win often on the long races. He was much happier with how close this race had been, and the fact that he was completely crash free. That was the greater victory to him.
With school over, Flash took the long flight home, grinning like a fool all the way. When he got home, his father was over the moon with excitement to hear that everything they'd done for the last week had paid off for Flash.
Things were really looking up for Tesla's research because of it too. He had gone through several extensively failed experiments already since they started, but he was sure that he was on the right path.
"I'll explode myself as many times as I have to until I succeed!" he declared proudly. He posed hammily mid-declaration and pushed up his favorite spiral-printed goggles up on his nose. Even without a light source in the room, he somehow managed to make his goggles flash with a gleam of opaque white light.
Flash could only laugh at the typical flambouyant display. His dad always did get especially corny when he wore what he affectionately called his 'explodey science goggles'.
The next week seemed to pass by in a blur. With Flash winning over half of his races at school. He grew bolder and more confident with every victory. He even started hanging out with Sky Ripper and his friends, who encouraged him into showing off in front of all the other students. In particular, he took any chance he could to show up Strike in front of everypony. Without Iron Wing around, Strike couldn't do anything. He just kept looking angrier and angrier in his silence as the days went on. It was amazing.
On the weekend, Flash worked especially hard training at home and helping his father's experiments. Thankfully the two weren't mutually exclusive, and he kept getting better all the time.
The first day of the next school week came quickly, and much to everyone's surprise, along with Coach Spitfire, another new pony was waiting at class for them. The brown coated stallion had an even darker brown mane and a mark of rain falling from a light gray cloud.
As the students gathered for the start of class, Spitfire announced, "Students, I'd like to begin class by apologizing. When I first started as your substitute, I had to tell you all a lie." A murmur of confusion spread through the class as she continued, "I'm sorry to say that Coach Iron Wing will not be coming back to teach you all. He was not sick with the feather flu. He actually slipped a disc in his spine just one vertebrae below his wings. This means he'll never be able to fly again without experiencing extraordinary pain."
Iron Wing was... crippled? Flash could hardly believe it. A pegasus of his reputation and strength brought down by a bad back? The sentiment seemed mutual across the entire class, as everypony went silent in stunned disbelief. More than a few heads, Flash's included, turned to look at Strike. The maroon colt's expression didn't change from the bitter look of anger he had worn the entire week before. He didn't acknowledge the eyes on him for even a moment. He just stood off at the edge of the group with a stony glare fixed forward.
"I was asked to tell you all that he had the feather flu so that you would not worry," Spitfire explained solemnly. "Repairing a damaged spine is an incredibly difficult procedure, even for the most talented surgeons or magical healers. It's an incredibly sensitive area that can easily be irreparably harmed during any repair process." The look in her eyes showed just how unhappy she was with this news as well. A small bit of red lined her eyes, but her tone betrayed no hint of being upset. "He's better now than when it first happened, but unfortunately any further procedures are far more likely to leave him completely paralysed than to heal him."
A sick feeling crept into Flash's stomach. This had to be why Strike had been acting so differently. And all he'd done for the last week was antagonize Strike while he'd been dealing with this. He'd been no better than a bully himself. Kicking a pony while he's down.
Spitfire blew once on her whistle to return the attention of the class before announcing, "Since today will be my last day with you all, I'd like to introduce your new coach, Downpour."
The introduction of the new coach slowly turned into white noise. He thought he heard mention of Downpour being the head weatherpony of the Manehattan area, along with something about flight in different weather conditions. Then-
WHACK! WHAM!
A loud, pained shout cut everything off, and several students in front of Flash were suddenly knocked over into a heap as Sky Ripper was flung into them. All eyes followed the line of fillies and colts turned into bowling pins to see Strike standing at the end, both a hoof and a wing held up in a clearly hostile stance. The look in his eyes was unlike anything Flash had seen from him before. Pure anger and wrath was the simplest way to describe it.
"You shut your damned mouth you bastard, or I'll kill you!"
