Thunder reverberated through the skies. Lightning Dust could barely breath through the rain, let alone fly. Gusts of wind came out of nowhere, first making her fight just to stand still, and then driving her hundreds of feet upwards in mere seconds. Every moment was a battle to stay airborne, and she loved it. She hadn’t pushed herself this hard since the Wonderbolt Academy.
Canterlot wasn’t supposed to have weather like this. Not ever. A little rain was okay, maybe even a lightning bolt or two. A storm like this though, where the thunderclaps rattled windows and the wind threatened to break them, was unheard of.
In this town the unicorns were supposed to take care of this stuff. Magic was the cure-all for severe weather problems; cloud-busting pegasi were more of an afterthought around here. Unless, of course, magic was part of the problem.
Purple lightning raced along the edge of a nearby cloud, spiraled its way towards the ground, and finally exploded in a bright flash. It was like flying through a fireworks display.
“Did you see that one? This storm’s awesome!”
Her teammate’s reply was nearly lost in the downpour. “… should head back… unicorn team can handle it.”
“And let them get all the credit? We can do this without magic, we just have to get above the–”
Everything went purple as another lightning bolt exploded nearby. The glare was so intense she had to look away. That involuntary motion was the opening wind needed. In an instant her goggles were gone, her mane was in her eyes, and she was spinning towards the ground.
It only took a few seconds to clear her eyes. It should’ve only taken a few more to get herself right side up. Instead every wingbeat seemed to make the world spin faster.
“Stupid… wings… why aren’t you–”
Then she saw it. Feathers. She was missing feathers on her left wing.
“Lightning, pull up! Pull up!”
“Huh? I’m nowhere near the g–”
She struck something hard. Everything went black.
The old broom scrapped against the wood floor. Calling this place dusty was an understatement. Lightning flipped the broom over and glared at what few straw bristles were left. Sweeping with her wings would’ve been faster. At least then they’d still be good for something.
Bits clinked against the countertop, and Mrs. Turner said the same five words that everypony who came through the door was destined to hear.
“Do come again soon, dearie.”
Lightning leaned the broom against the back wall and walked to the front of the shop. “Mrs. Turner, why do you always say that to the customers? Nopony ever responds.”
Mrs. Turner smiled her perpetual, wrinkled smile. “Sometimes they do, and call me Paige, dearie.”
“I’ve never heard them say anything.”
“Oh they don’t have to speak it, sometimes it’s just a quick little smile or a nod. When you’ve run a book store for as long as I have you learn to pick up on these things.”
Lightning didn’t want to guess how many years the old mare had been working behind that counter. The two weeks she’d spent here so far was more than enough.
Paige turned around and went back to her usual pastime, tidying the high shelves behind the counter. The rickety stool she used to reach them made Lightning’s broom look brand new.
“Why don’t you let me dust up there, I could just f… well I could reach with the broom.”
“It’s quite all right dearie. When it comes to my old ones I do it all with my own two hooves. Some of these books are older than you and me put together.”
Lightning took a second glance at the high shelves. Every book in this place was on a shelf low enough for a foal to reach, save these few. She’d never understood why a few books, which looked just as dusty and boring as the rest, got this special treatment.
“So are they worth a lot, or something?”
“Oh they’re worth plenty.” She tapped one on the end. “Bought this one when I first opened the shop, back when I was a just a young filly. It’s a first edition; you can hardly find a copy anywhere nowadays.”
“It might actually sell if you put it down where the customers could see it.”
“That’s all right, dearie, it’s the memories that really matter. It pains me a little whenever I have to part with one of the old ones. They’re like family.”
Lightning turned so her eye-roll wouldn’t be seen. “I’d better get back to sweeping up.”
“You’ve been so working hard this week, Lightning. Why don’t you quit early today, spend a little time with your friends before the sun sets?”
“Nah, I’ll just finish cleaning and go to bed.”
“Oh that’s no way to spend a saturday evening, go out and live a little.”
“No thanks.”
“Come now, I know this shop is old fashioned for somepony your age. Isn’t there something you’d rather be doing?”
The broom flew into the nearest bookshelf. “Yeah, but I can’t!”
She stomped down the aisle, brushing both rows of books with her spread wings. The damage was as obvious now as it’d been two weeks ago: a three feather wide gap on the left side.
“See this? This means I can’t fly; I can’t hang with my friends, I can’t work for the weather team, I’ll never be a… forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”
Paige looked her bad wing up and down. “Can’t say that an old earth pony like me knows much about wings, but what’s that have to do with your friends?”
“Everything! All my friends love to fly just as much as I do. Right after the accident they promised visit while I got better, but then… then I didn’t.”
“You mean you’re–”
Lightning bowed her head and nodded. “My feathers aren’t growing back. I’m never going to fly again.”
“I was going to say your friends, they just abandoned you?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Well, this is simple enough to fix.”
“All the doctors I’ve seen couldn’t figure it out. It’s cost me every bit I have.”
“No, no, I mean you need to make some better friends.”
Lightning stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Real friends stick by your side, no matter what. Real friends care about you, not about how many feathers you have.”
“My wings are part of who I am. Nothing can change that.”
Paige retrieved the broom and straightened the books disturbed by its impromptu landing. “A smaller part than you think. You might look at yourself and just see wings, I see a pony who keeps my shop tidy, who sleeps in the back room, and who’s more than welcome to keep doing both for as long as she needs to.”
She came closer and put a hoof over her shoulder. “Most importantly, I see a pony who’s my friend.”
Lightning regarded the hoof draped over her. “Thanks, I guess.”
Paige handed her the broom and headed for the counter. “I think I’ll do a little shopping of my own before it gets too late. If you want to pop out for a bit just be sure to lock up.”
Hours passed in silence, save for the sound of the broom. Lightning didn’t even realize how late it was getting until she caught herself in a yawn. The streets outside were dark and a quiet, well-behaved rain was darkening the skies. The weather team had it easy tonight.
The sole source of light in the shop was a small candle sitting on the front counter, a little gift from Paige she hadn’t even noticed.
She looked over the floors, which were now spotless, and then back at the candle. The wick was half gone, and the fire’s light was reflected in the pool of molten wax collecting in the tray.
“What do I need with an earth pony for a friend anyway.”
She tucked the broom under a wing and picked up the candle. “So what do you do now, Lightning Dust? Can’t be a Wonderbolt, can’t even be on the weather team any–ow!”
Hot wax spilled on her coat and the candle flipped through the air. She leaped after it with wings spread wide, only remembering mid-wingbeat that she couldn’t fly anymore. Instead of soaring up to meet her target, she demolished weeks of cleaning in an instant. Books and broken shelves crashed to the ground moments before the candle did.
By the time she picked herself out of the wreckage, half of the shop was burning. No amount of sweeping could excise the decades of dust trapped in the shelving, not like the fire could.
She was at the door a moment later. Flightless of not, she’d made it to safety before the fire even reached the front counter. That one little triumph in the face of danger set her heart racing for the first time since the accident.
“No fire’s getting the best of…”
She was staring at the front counter and the high shelves behind it. Her successful escape suddenly meant nothing.
Running into the shop was much harder than than leaving it. Ever second brought more eye-watering heat and breath-choking smoke. If only she’d paid more attention to the layout. Was it ten steps from door to counter, or fifteen?
This wasn’t supposed to mater. She wasn’t supposed to be doing this. So what if this place burned to the ground, she could walk away without a scratch.
Her outstretched hoof touched the countertop and she leaped over. She landed on the ancient stool, which promptly snapped in two. Short of flying there wasn’t any way to reach the old books. They were going to burn just like everything else. By the time a fire crew got here every single one would be ash. Paige would be devastated.
“Why am I doing this?”
She stared at the fire, and then at her escape path to the rain-soaked streets. The same spark of excitement flared up inside her. This was a challenge, and that’s all that mattered. She could do this with one wing tied behind her back, which wasn’t that far off from reality.
Flapping a single wing wasn’t easy. It went against a lifetime of muscle memory, not to mention the laws of physics. She wedged herself against the open front door and beat her one good wing like a hummingbird. Redirected raindrops splashed against one side of her face while the other baked in the fire’s heat. This was grueling, dangerous work. Her favorite kind.
Everything looked worse in the early morning light. Fire fighting ponies had been here for hours, alternating between assessing the damage and asking her questions.
“Are you sure you don’t need medical–”
“I said I’m fine! Go help Mrs. Turner or something.”
From the first moment Paige saw the remains of her shop, she hadn’t said a word or shed a tear. As weird as this sudden bout of stoicism was, Lightning was grateful for it. She’d funneled water onto the fire for what felt like hours. She’d saved the front of the shop and the old books. Everything else, from novel to reference guide, was gone.
A shadow fell across the abysmal scene. “You must be Lightning Dust.”
“I said I don’t need any…” She trailed off when she saw who was speaking. Princess Celestia was standing behind her.
Part of her knew she should kneel, and yet she didn’t want to. Tragedy and loss changed everything. Inside the ruined shop everypony looked just as small and insignificant as she felt. She’d sooner kneel to Paige.
“Your majesty.”
Paige ran over knelt low enough for the both of them. “Princess Celestia, it’s an honor to see you again.”
“It’s lovely to see you too, Mrs. Turner. I’m so sorry about your store, I rushed right over as soon as I heard.”
Paige’s eyes grew wet. “This shop’s been in the family for generations… such a shame.”
“I hope you’ll consider rebuilding, everypony has fond memories of browsing those shelves, myself included.”
“Indeed I will, all thanks to Lightning Dust. Since she saved the valuable books I’ll have the bits I need to do the job.”
Lightning stared at her. “What?”
“It hurts to part ways with my old ones, but I suppose I’ve kept them to myself too long. A book is only as good as the friends you share it with.”
The princess nodded. “I couldn’t have said it better. I’d be more than willing to give them a good home, one that you’ll be more than welcome to visit.”
Paige finally began to cry. “That’s very generous of you, Princess Celestia, thank you.”
“Oh Paige, we’ve known each other for years. You don’t need to be so formal.”
“Old habits, dearie.”
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment though, I need to have a word with Lightning Dust.”
Lightning jumped. “Me?”
“Yes, I understand that you used to be the Canterlot weather team?”
“Yeah, up until that magic storm two weeks ago.”
“That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. We’ve been tracking down all the ponies that were hurt, nopony knew where you went after you left the weather team.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t have any reason to stay, not when I can’t fly.”
“As you said, that wasn’t an ordinary storm. It’s taken a while to track down the cause.”
The princess stepped aside, revealing a small unicorn foal. She was looking over the ruined shop with tear-filled eyes. As soon as she saw Lightning she ran forward and hugged her leg.
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry about the books, and your wing, and…” She was lost in tears.
“Sorry? You mean you caused the storm?”
“I’m studying weather magic at the princess’s school. All my friends said weather magic’s boring, I kept pushing myself harder to impress them and… and… and then that storm happened. I’m so sorry so many ponies got hurt.”
Lightning flexed her bad wing and looked over her missing feathers. Then she looked at Paige reaching for the precious books that were going to let her rebuild her family legacy.
The foal squeezed her leg. “I’m so sorry about your wing.”
Lightning looked down at her for a minute and then tousled her mane. “Don’t worry about it, kid… just promise me something.”
“What?”
“Make some better friends, some that actually care about you because you’re you.”
The foal managed a small smile. “Okay, thanks.”
The princess touched her student’s shoulder with a wing. “We need to go, we haven't undone all of the damage yet.”
Lightning watched the foal retreat to her mentor’s side. “Go easy on her, we all make mistakes.”
The princess smiled. “I hope you’ll consider rejoining the weather team, Lightning Dust, we always need more ponies who understand what friendship really is.”
Before Lightning could respond, she felt a tingling sensation in her wing. She didn’t know what to make of it until she noticed the fading glow of the princess’s horn. She flexed the wing again and looked at the bad spot. She could almost feel the new feathers beginning to grow.
“I’ll think about it.”
