Ditz and Spitz: Origin of Derpy

Chapters

Part 1: Photo Rumors
Part 2: Guilt and Interviews
Part 3: Harsh Words
Part 5: The Best Young Flier
Part 6: The Amazing Ditzy Doo
Part 7: The Fall
Part 8: Reunion
Epilogue: Peace of Mind
Intro: Muffin Time
Part 4: Childhood Memories

Part 1: Photo Rumors

Dinky sighed as she used her magic to turn her pencil in lazy circles on her desk. She was so super excited to show Scootaloo the picture in her saddlebags! She was a bit shy, and normally when she managed to talk to Scootaloo or her two Crusader friends, the conversation always eventually turned to her mommy, her eyes, and how she kept crashing into stuff. From there, it became an awkward silence that instantly killed any sort of playful mood. She knew if she showed Scootaloo how cool her mommy was, they'd want to talk about her. Then it wouldn't be awkward talking with them and they might even let her play with them. That was, if recess ever came. It was still a long way to go, and Ms. Cheerilee's history lesson was dragging on.

Looking to her right, she saw the orange pegasus seated next to her in the rearmost corner of the class. She was similarly bored, doodling pictures of cutie-marks in the margins of her paper, most of them bearing a remarkable resemblance to Rainbow Dash's.

"Psst… hey, Scootaloo." Dinky was careful to whisper, to avoid drawing the teacher's attention.

Scootaloo was likewise cautious. "What, Dinky?"

"You wanna see something cool?"

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. It better not be another ‘multi-muffin,’ though.” She turned to look at Dinky and thus failed to notice Ms. Cheerilee's focus had shifted from the blackboard to their conversation.

Dinky frowned. How could anypony fail to appreciate her mommy’s double-bun, thirteen-ingredient multi-muffins? She started to use her magic to float the picture out of her open saddlebags toward Scootaloo when she was startled by a rather sharp cry of "Dinky! Scootaloo!" from the front of the room. Startled, she dropped the photo, which fell to the ground face down. They both turned around to see Ms. Cheerilee approach them, giving both of them an admonishing look in turn.

"Talking during class and passing notes?"

Dinky's face paled. "But, Ms. Cheerilee," she pleaded guiltily, "it wasn't a note, it—"

"It doesn't matter. You were both clearly not paying attention."

She reached down to confiscate the offending distraction and took the photograph in her mouth, slowly walking back to the front of the room. As she passed the desks of other fillies and foals, many ducked their heads to look at what was on the photograph. Some of the sports-fan ponies' eyes widened with shock, as did those of a filly duo more interested in celebrity gossip. They quickly turned and whispered to their neighbors before Ms. Cheerilee could continue teaching.

As she was neither a sport-fan pony nor a celebrity gossip, Ms.Cheerilee failed to recognize the importance of the picture she deposited on her desk.

"You will both have to stay inside during recess for breaking the rules. Dinky, you can get this from me at the end of the day. Now, the first gryphon was seen in… "

As she resumed her lesson, the Crusaders turned as one and glared sullenly at Dinky. She slumped in her desk. She was only trying to make friends, but now she'd completely ruined it! Throughout the rest of the lesson and all the way up until recess, the other foals kept shooting curious, sometimes awed glances at her that she didn't even notice in her gloomy daze.

Finally, recess did roll around and the other students left Scootaloo and Dinky alone at their desks, writing alternating lines of "I will not talk during lessons" and "I will not pass things in class" on sheets of paper under Ms. Cheerilee's watchful gaze.

Dinky turned to Scootaloo as she wrote. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

The pegasus stopped writing for a moment, letting her pencil drop as she worked her jaw with a hoof.

“Yeah? Hmmph." She snorted."What was on that picture, anyway? What am I missing recess for?" she inquired, then picked her pencil back up in her mouth.

"It was a picture of my mommy with Spitfire. She came over to visit yesterday, and—"

Scootaloo nearly choked, her pencil falling off her desk with a clatter as she whirled to face Dinky. "YOUR MOM KNOWS SPITFIRE?! YOU'RE KIDDING!"

Ms. Cheerilee looked up from her papers and rounded on her for her sudden outburst. "Scootaloo! Do not shout inside. Back to writing, both of you!"

Scootaloo retrieved her pencil and they both returned to writing. She occasionally glanced over at Dinky, who couldn’t help but notice. “What?”

Scootaloo gave her a long, studious look. “You are kidding... right?”

As the last bell rang and school let out, Ms. Cheerilee called Dinky up to her desk. "Now, Dinky, I trust you won't distract yourself, or other students, with non-school related material again. Save it for after lessons next time, okay?"

"Yes, Ms. Cheerilee."

She gave the filly a small smile as she softened her tone. “I never like to punish students, Dinky, especially ones who are normally so well-mannered and attentive.” She slid the photograph across her desk with a small laugh. “I can see why you wanted to share it though. It certainly is a very funny picture of your mother and her friend."

Dinky's jaw dropped before she caught herself. Of course; Ms. Cheerilee didn't recognize Spitfire without her trademark flightsuit. She herself wouldn't have recognized Spitfire from just the photo if she hadn't overheard her talking with her mommy last night. She levitated the photo back into her saddlebags.

"Ummm… thanks. Bye, Ms. Cheerilee."

"Goodbye, Dinky."

When she exited the schoolhouse, she was rushed by a plethora of the other students.

"Hey uhh… Dinky! Dinky, lemme see it!"

"I didn't get a good look at it. Does your mom really know Spitfire?"

"Can I see it again, Dinky?"

"So, Dinky, how did a feather-head like your mom meet up with Spitfire?"

She had wanted to make some more friends, but this wasn't friends—this was a mob. Overwhelmed by the sudden attention, she began to push her way through the crowd over toward where she saw Scootaloo waiting with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell. Seeing that she wasn't going to show them the photo, after some attempted cajoling the crowd quickly dispersed toward their respective homes. Some went to meet their waiting parents, telling them what had happened with excited voices.

Scootaloo wasted no time once the four were finally alone. "So is it true then, Dinky? Your mom really…"

Silently, Dinky levitated the picture out of her saddlebags again, holding it up in front of Scootaloo. There was a short, stunned silence from the three Crusaders.

"That is so cool!"

"Wow, Dinky! Did you get to meet Spitfire? What was she like?"

"I never woulda reckoned yer mom for knowin' somepony famous like that, Dinky."

They chatted animatedly at her for a while and she answered their questions as best she could, without ever actually denying that she had met Spitfire, before Scootaloo asked a different sort of question.

"Hey, Dinky, could I borrow this to show to Rainbow Dash? I know she'll think it's awesome." Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell rolled their eyes, quite familiar with their friend's desire to impress Rainbow Dash.

“Well, I did get you in trouble earlier, so I guess it’s only fair...” She floated the picture over to Scootaloo’s eager hooves.

Her face lit up. "Thanks sooo much! I'm gonna go show her right now!"

"But, Scootaloo!" Apple Bloom whined, "we were supposed ta go help Fluttershy take care o' the animals after school!"

"Yeah, what will it look like if only the two of us show up? What will she think of us?"

Scootaloo frowned, looking back and forth from the picture to her friends. She ended up fixating on the photo for a few moments, then suddenly brightened. "I got it! Why don't you take Dinky with you? I'll meet you guys at Fluttershy's cottage later."

"Well… that's okay by me. Whaddya say, Dinky?"

"Yes! Uh, I mean, yeah! Sure." Dinky couldn’t help a wide smile as she bounced off with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell, elated that she had managed to make some friends after all.

Rainbow Dash flew back toward her cloud home, thoroughly exhausted but glad to be done for the day. Sure, she could clear the sky in just about ten seconds flat, but adding stuff took a whole new level of effort and delicacy. There was another heavy rain scheduled for the weekend and everything had to be prepared for days ahead of time. Besides the actual cloud moving, there was the planning, the coordination between teams, the weather quality checks… ugh. She just wanted sleep. She was thus less than enthusiastic to see the orange pegasus filly on a scooter heading for her cloud home from the opposite direction. Scootaloo was waving madly, and calling out to her from the distance. As tired as she was, she didn't want to just blow off her number one fan.

"Rainbow Dash! Rainbow Dash!" Scootaloo waved upwards to Dash as the pegasus approached, stopping her scooter sharply. The cyan pegasus landed next to her seconds later.

"Yeah, yeah, I see you. What's up, Scoot?"

"It’s the most exciting thing. Dinky's mom met with Spitfire yesterday! She was here, in Ponyville!"

Dash gave Scootaloo a withering look. "Look, Scoot, I'm tired. I'm in no mood for jokes, especially such poor ones."

Scootaloo frowned indignantly. "It is not a joke. Look!" She dropped her saddlebags off her back, quickly rummaging around inside before coming up with the picture in her hoof. "See?"

Rainbow Dash took the photo without really looking at it first, then bristled in shock upon seeing Spitfire in a picture with a rather goofy—well, goofier—looking Ditzy Doo. Her eyes went wide, as did her jaw. "Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!" All her tiredness, stress and perhaps even Scootaloo were completely forgotten. She grabbed the photo with her mouth and took off, speeding towards the outskirts of town.

"Hey, Rainbow Dash! Wait! WAI—awww." A rather dejected Scootaloo reslung her saddlebags and scooted off toward Fluttershy's cottage.

Ditzy was happy to be heading home. She had moved the mail all day and all she wanted to do was sit down for dinner with her Dinky and relax; it had been a long week for the mailmare. She had just opened her door to go inside when she was propelled through it by a tackle from a multicolored blur. She recognized her assailant, from her new position on the floor, as her friend Rainbow Dash, who had ended on top of her. The offending pony paused just long enough to grab something she had been holding in her mouth before she began excitedly jabbering at the pinned mare.

"Hey, Derp—I mean, Ditzy! Why didn't you ever tell me you knew Spitfire! Oh-my-gosh she is so cool! And you know her. It's so awesome!"

Ditzy froze in the act of pushing Rainbow off of her. How did she find out about Spitz? She couldn't tell; she'd promised! "Uhm… what are you saying, Rainbow Dash? I don't know any Spitfire!"

Dash frowned. "Yeah you do, De—Ditzy! Lithe, athletic-looking yellow pegasus? Orange mane and tail? Fire bolt cutie mark? Wonderbolt?"

She tapped her chin with a hoof in thought for a moment, then shook her head vigorously. "Doesn’t ring any bells."

Rainbow Dash stared at her with a look of utter disbelief. She held up the photograph and used her other hoof to point to Spitfire. "By Celestia—This pegasus! Right here, next to you!"

She was shocked stiff as the color rapidly drained from her face. How had Rainbow gotten the picture of her and her best friend? How was she going to keep her promise now? "Uhh… it... well, Spitfire… the thing is…" She was saved from her stuttering by her Dinky walking through the front door.

***

"Hi, Mommy! Why's the door open… oh. Hello, Miss Rainbow Dash." She went silent quickly, scuffing a hoof on the floor. Scootaloo had told her upon meeting up with them that Dash had flown off with the photo. It was usually no big deal: being the embodiment of loyalty, it was almost impossible for her to keep something that belonged to somepony else. But Dash gone and told her mommy that she'd taken the picture, and she knew she'd get in trouble for it now.

Ditzy quickly shifted her crooked gaze to her daughter. "Muffin, it’s almost sundown! Where were you?"

"Oh. Me and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell were helping Fluttershy with her animals. They were so cute, and…" She trailed off under her mother's stare, one she had come to recognize as cross.

"Well, uhm, leave a note next time, okay?” Her tone softened a bit. “I don’t want to have to worry about you."

Dash cleared her throat, setting the picture down on the nearby dining table. "Uhh, Ditzy, look. About Spitfire, can I—"

"Muffin, go wash your hooves. It’s almost dinner time. Rainbow Dash, let’s talk on the porch."

***

As Dinky headed toward the kitchen, the two grown pegasi went outside, Ditzy shutting the door behind her. She rounded on Dash with a small frown.

"I told you, Rainbow Dash, I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Dash cringed. "Please, Ditzy! Don't lie to me! This could be my chance! To show a Wonderbolt my moves one-on-one, without her being unconscious this time! I'm asking—I'm begging you! Just ask her for me, please!"

She stamped her hoof and snorted. "I TOLD YOU, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! It isn’t true and I don’t know Spitfire! Please leave, Rainbow Dash!"

Dash’s eyes, which had gone wide during Ditzy’s tirade, quickly narrowed. She stamped a hoof back. "Yeah? Well fine, Derpy! You don't want to help me, that's fine! I don't need your help, you feather-brained walleye! You want to stand there and lie to me, that's fine! I'll impress Spitfire, and the rest of the Wonderbolts too, WITHOUT YOUR HELP!" She turned around and flew away, barely missing the edge of the porch during her violent takeoff.

Ditzy went back inside, her eyes watering from Dash’s words, to find her daughter sitting at the table crying. She had obviously heard them shouting on the porch.

"I'm sorry, Mommy! I'm sorry I took the photo from your book! I didn't mean to make her mad at you! I thought she'd be happy…"

She walked over and gave her Dinky a strong hug as she cried.

"I j-just wanted everypony to l-like you, Mommy. I wanted them to see how c-cool you were."

Ditzy was crying too, not just from Rainbow Dash, but because she was proud of her daughter. Even though her methods weren't so good, her heart was in the right place. And Dinky thought she was cool. The filly eventually cried herself out, and after a last squeeze from her mother, the two went about eating their dinner.

The news had spread quickly through the small town of Ponyville, lent wings by the gossip grapevine.

"Dad! You won't believe what I learned at school today!"

"Well, son, I'm glad you're finally showing some more interest in your schoolwork."

"Huh? No, not that! Dinky's mom knows Spitfire!"

"…HAHAHA! That's a good one!"

"No, really! Dinky had a picture and everything!"

"…You aren't joking, are you?"

"Ditzy Doo? Yeah, pull the other one."

"No, I'm serious! Apparently, her daughter brought a picture to school."

"I'll believe it when I see it!"

"Ditzy Doo? And Spitfire?"

"Eeeyup."

"You can't be for real. You are joking with me, right?

"Nnnope. It's all over town; heard it by the apple stand."

"Seriously? Her and Spitfire? Ooo, how scandalous!"

"I know, it's like, totally shocking."

"Hey, do you remember that magazine that said Spitfire was a supposed to be a… you know?"

"You think her and Ditzy were…? Ewww, no way!"

"So way!"

"No way!"

"Hey, Cheerilee! So, apparently there was some issue with a photograph of Ditzy at school today?"

“How did you… well yes, it was a minor thing really, nothing bad. Just her and her pegasus friend, but it disrupted my lesson something awful."

"Wait, you mean there was a picture?"

A brown pegasus with a soccer ball cutie mark flew out of Ponyville just before the sun started to go down. He arrived some time later in the evening in central Manehatten, approaching a rather tall but otherwise unremarkable office building, with the title Equestria Today emblazoned above the door in white block letters. He entered quickly, smiling to the earth mare receptionist in the lobby. "Evening, Wink. Is Flash Bulb around? I need to talk to him right quick."

She smiled back and pointed to where the white pegasus with a light blue mane and film strip cutie mark was just exiting the stairwell.

"Thanks."

Flash Bulb gave the brown pegasus a grin as he walked across the lobby toward him. "Hey, Kicker, long time. Haven't seen you around here since that Fluttershy tip you gave me. Here to catch up? Wanna hit a bar or something?"

"Maybe in a bit, Flash. Right now, I think I got another tip for you. Hot one."

Flash gave a lazy grin. "Well, who woulda thought it from little old Ponyville? What kinda craziness you got comin' outta that town today?"

Kicker's smile turned smug. "It isn't so much going out as coming in, and its name is Spitfire. She's been visiting somepony in secret. Do I have your attention?"

"Hmm… let me take you back upstairs. My boss is gonna want to hear this, and I have the feeling you have just handed me a nice raise, my friend."

"Well, I guess you can buy the first drink then."

A short time later, both pegasi were seated comfortably facing the desk of a light teal earth pony with an open newspaper cutie mark. His voice was a crisp, authoritative bark. "Flash, I thought you were headed home! What are you doin' back up here?"

"Well, boss, Kicker here came and found me, says he's got a hot tip. Says Spitfire's been visiting Ponyville."

The boss turned to Kicker. "Now why would somepony like Spitfire be visitin' someplace like Ponyville?"

"Well, isn't that what you're supposed to ask the pony she's visiting?"

The boss gave a chuckle. "Good point. You seen her come into town?"

"No, but my friend's daughter saw a picture in school today that proved she was there, and I asked the teacher. She confirmed it."

"I dunno. Sounds kinda flimsy. Who was she visiting?"

"Some clumsy, kinda oblivious pegasus named Ditzy Doo. Lives out near…" Both newsponys had gone shock stiff.

Flash slowly turned toward Kicker. "Grey pony? Yellow eyes, seven bubbles cutie mark?"

"I don't know her eye color. Bubbles... yeah, I think seven."

Flash whipped around to face his boss again. "It all fits. That'd explain why Spitfire's there. It's enough to risk going out there."

"I agree. Go back with Kicker here and get the scoop. Get back here before deadline tomorrow, and don't mess this up."

Flash smiled. It was time to go find out what the legendary Ditzy Doo had been up to, and what she was hiding from the rest of the world down in rural Ponyville.

Part 2: Guilt and Interviews

Early the next morning Ditzy awoke to the shrill ring of her alarm clock. Blearily, she dislodged a leg from her twisted bedsheets and slammed her hoof down between the bells to stop their ringing. With some difficulty, she managed to disentangle herself from her bed and go about her normal morning routine of making the breakfast muffins. She had time while they baked to get herself ready for work, and get Dinky awake and ready for school. Though her Dinky was less than enthusiastic about waking up, Ditzy tickled her with her wings until she squirmed her way out of bed, still giggling as she loaded up her school saddlebags. Once the muffins were done, they ate their breakfast quickly and got on the road, walking briskly in the morning cold.

Their walk toward school was quieter than it usually was, until Dinky nervously broke the silence. "Uhm, Mommy? W-why did you tell Ms. Rainbow Dash that you didn't know Spitfire? You don't… you don't want her to think you're cool?"

She sighed. She'd expected her daughter to ask eventually, but she didn't want to make her feel any worse about what she'd done. She answered with a kind smile. "She never said why, but Spitfire told me not to tell anypony she was visiting."

Dinky looked down guiltily. "Oh. But I was telling everypony. Sorry."

"It’s okay, Muffin. You said sorry enough last night, remember? You didn't know; it happens. I’m not upset with you."

She looked up hopefully. "So… what's she like?"

Ditzy chuckled, and began to tell her Dinky about how nice her friend was to her and how quickly she flew when she took off from the lawn. Before too long, they arrived at school. Ditzy gave her daughter a goodbye kiss and a hearty "Have a good schoolday, Muffin!" before crookedly flying off toward the mailhouse. The awed stares cast at her by the other ponies and their foals went unnoticed.

As she entered the mailhouse, she heard a voice she didn't recognize talking to the boss-stallion and the other few mailponies.

"So you've known her a long time, then?"

"Yeah, since she started workin' here. Musta been… six, seven years? ‘Bout round the time she moved here."

"Have you heard she's been meeting with Spitfire?"

"Yeah I—oh. Heya, Ditzy." The boss-stallion had finally noticed her. He nodded toward the newcomer. "This guy here wanted to—"

The newcomer was a white pegasus with a film strip cutie mark and a camera hanging around his neck. After her presence was made known, he gave her a long, thorough look-over. He frowned slightly when he glanced at her face, then perked up upon seeing her flank. She was starting to feel offended when he suddenly raised his camera and took a picture of her. "Flash Bulb, Ms. Doo. With the Equestria Today. I just wanted to get a quick interview about what's been goin' on with you and Spitfire."

Ditzy frowned. She felt a tickle in the back of her head, like she sometimes got when talking to Spitz about the Wonderbolts. Something felt familiar about this, but she was sure she'd never seen this camera-pony before. She spoke carefully, eying the offending newspony. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any pony named Spitfire." Her words caused mixed reactions amongst the ponies present.

"Ha!" One of the mailponies crowed, turning to the boss-stallion. "Told you. You owe me 5 bits."

"We never shook on it!"

Others turned toward her.

"Really, Ditzy? Cause that's not what my brother told me."

"I knew it was all just a bunch of hooey."

"Aww. I wanted to ask you for her autograph…"

But the most curious reaction came from the reporter, who just started laughing. He eventually cut off the others as they stopped talking amongst themselves to stare at him. He turned back to her once he finally got control of himself, still slightly teary-eyed. "'I don’t know any pony named Spitfire?' I'd get it if you guys weren't so close anymore, but not knowing her? That's a bit of a stretch given how long you flew together, don't ya think?" The other mailponies sat in dead silence, now staring at Ditzy expectantly.

She frowned. What was this Flash Bulb talking about? She never flew with Spitz, and she didn't like him laughing at her. She hated getting laughed at. Her reply was rather curt. "You’re wrong. I haven't flown with any Spitfire and I don't know any Spitfire. Excuse me; I’d better start moving the mail now."

She walked over to the mailbags waiting for her behind the counter, and on her third try managed to settle them across her back, picking up the letters that had escaped during her failed attempts and stuffing them back in the mailbags. She headed back toward the door to leave, the other mailponies still silently staring at her. That Flash Bulb pony was waiting for her with an arched eyebrow. "I guess that means no comment, huh?" He followed her as she left, asking about the photograph that had been seen around town, and continued to natter questions at her after she again told him she had no idea what he was talking about. She sighed. This was going to be a long day.

She went about her mail route ignoring Flash as best she could. Most ponies who were home when she moved the mail to their mailboxes came out to ask her questions too, but they were always the same: did she really know Spitfire? Her answer, likewise, was always the same: no, she did not. Unfortunately, it was hard to convince them when they saw Flash a short distance away attempting to pry an answer to some question or another out of her.

Flash Bulb was peeved. He had confirmed that this was indeed Ditzy Doo. It was the story of a lifetime, with him breaking it to all of Equestria… except the infuriating mare simply refused to answer his questions. He'd been trying to get answers from her for over two hours, but apparently she didn't want to give him anything. "Miss Doo? Miss Doo?"

He managed to pull her attention. "Huh? What do you want now, Mr. Flash Bulb? I have a lot more mail to move."

His reply was full of strained cheer. "I was just wondering if you were ever going to answer any of my questions, Ms. Doo."

"Oh. Hmm..." She put a hoof to her chin in thought for a while, then flashed him a wide smile. “Nope.”

He'd been afraid of that. "C'mon, Ms. Doo. Everypony wants to know about it. These ponies here in this rural little village might buy that you don't know Spitfire, but nopony anywhere else will. It's obvious you've been meeting yer old buddy; I just wanna know why."

Her smile vanished in a sour grimace. "I've been telling you and everypony else; I don’t know Spitfire."

Flash Bulb sighed and snapped one final picture. "Okay, Ms. Doo. Have it your way. Thanks for what little time you gave." As much as he wanted to keep questioning her, she appeared willing to remain stubbornly noncommital. He didn't have the kind of time he needed to question her if he wanted to make his deadline. He flew off toward the school house, and heard her sigh in relief as he left. Time to go and see if the other family member, this "Dinky," knew anything…

Flash Bulb landed a short distance from the school grounds. His timing was perfect: the foals were pouring out of the schoolhouse for recess. He looked around at the students and frowned. Most of them were clustered in a crowd around the steps, with a few others scattered throughout the yard. Search as he might, he couldn’t see anypony matching Dinky’s description. Maybe one of the other foals knew where she was. He approached a filly trio seated beneath a tree; the three were shooting envious glances at the crowd and shirked back from him as he approached. "Heya, girls. Any of you know where Dinky Doo is? I wanted to talk to her for a bit."

The three shared curious glances before the earth filly ventured to respond. "Whatchu wanna talk to Dinky 'bout, anyway, mister?"

He put on his most disarming smile. "Oh, Flash Bulb. My name's Flash Bulb. Well, I'm one of her mom's friends from out of town; I work for the Equestria Today, the newspaper. Anyway, I came out here to interview her about her talk with Spitfire for the front page article, but she was too busy working to finish answering all of my questions. So I thought I'd come out here and see if Dinky could answer some of them." The trio grew wide-eyed, jumping at the chance to be in a newspaper.

"That is so cool! Dinky's mom is gonna be in the paper!"

"Hey, we know Dinky. She told us all about it!"

"Yeah! I'm sure she wouldn't mind if it was for the paper. You're her mom's friend, after all, right?"

Flash Bulb was taken aback by their sudden burst of enthusiasm, but quickly regained his composure. A source was a source, after all, and he didn't exactly have much to go on. "Thanks, girls! So, what do you know about all this?"

"Dinky showed me this picture of her mom and Spitfire yesterday. She even let me borrow it, it was so awesome!"

"Oh, yeah. I'd already heard about the picture. Have you heard anything else? Like, what they were doing together?"

The orange pegasus filly deflated slightly as he skipped over her remark. Apple Bloom spoke up next."Well, Dinky said her mom an' Spitfire were just talkin' ‘bout not much of anything special. Spitfire was askin' ‘bout how she was doin' and stuff, how her job was goin', and she was just askin' Spitfire ‘bout the Wonderbolts an' how Dinky—"

"Apple Bloom! Wait!" Another filly came galloping over to join them beneath the tree, noticeably winded from attempting to shout and run at the same time.

He frowned at the untimely interruption, but his annoyance quickly faded when he examined the new arrival, whose colors clearly identified her as Ditzy's daughter. He gave the newcomer a smile. "Hey, and here's Dinky herself. I wanted to ask you—"

"Excuse me."

Flash turned toward the newest voice to see a purple earth mare with a pink mane and three smiling daisies for a cutie mark standing next to him, frowning disapprovingly at him in stark contrast to said cutie mark.

"Run along, girls, and let me talk to the nice stallion."

"But, Ms. Cheerilee, Mr. Flash Bulb here just wanted to talk to Dinky."

"Go on, girls. Now." The four fillies walked away, three sullenly, the fourth whispering to them intensely.

Flash Bulb was undeterred. "So you're Ms. Cheerilee, then? The one who saw the photograph firsthoof? Listen, I'm a reporter for Equestria Today. If I may—"

"You may not." Her reply was curt and cold. "Listen, Mister… Bulb. I don't really care who you are, or who you work for, but I don't know you and you aren't from around here. Even if you were, I wouldn't approve of a grown pony coming around during the school day and disturbing my students without good reason. Especially a grown stallion with no foal in my class and a camera around his neck. Leave now, please. Before this becomes an… issue."

He closed his mouth with an audible click of his teeth. This Cheerilee mare was scary. "U-understood, Ms. Cheerilee—ma'am. I didn't mean anything by it, just asking some questions. I'll be going now."

He left quickly, with some of his dignity intact. He hadn't gotten everything he wanted, but he'd gotten enough. He had time enough to interview some of the townsponies and still make it back to Manehatten in time to write up his article. It was time to break this story, and let the world know that it was Flash Bulb who'd done it.

Dinky had felt very awkward during her first lessons. The other fillies and colts kept staring at her and whispering, kept reminding her of what she'd done. The stares had been nothing compared to what came after class when Dinky was again mobbed by the other foals during recess. It seemed that word had gotten out, and everypony had asked her about her mommy and Spitfire. As happy as she should have felt that ponies thought her mommy was cool now, every pony that had asked only made her feel more guilty about telling other ponies about Spitfire when her mommy had wanted it to be a secret.

She had finally dislodged herself from the mob, with Ms. Cheerilee's help, only to see her new friends talking to some strange pegasus near the edge of the school yard. As she went over to investigate, she finally overheard just what it was they were discussing, and started running. But she was too late; the damage was already done.

As they walked away from the two adult ponies, Dinky was hurriedly whispering to her friends. "Look, you guys can't tell anypony else what I heard my mommy and Spitfire talking about, okay?"

They gave her quizzical looks. "What's the big deal, Dinky? You seemed pretty excited when you told us yesterday."

"Yeah, what gives?"

"My mommy told me this morning that the whole thing was supposed to be a secret, so I can't tell anypony nomore! Everypony already knows about the photo and I've already told ponies she knows Spitfire, but maybe I can still keep the rest of it a secret. You promise me you won't tell anypony what they said, okay?"

She stared at them expectantly, but Sweetie Bell interjected before they could make the promise. "Wait a second. If she wanted to keep it a secret, why did she give you the picture to take to school?"

Dinky kicked a hoof guiltily. "Well…" She was saved from admitting she had taken the photo without permission by Ms. Cheerilee’s approach. The stallion had flown away rather suddenly and she trotted a bit to catch up to the four fillies.

"Now girls, just what was going on back there?"

Though they all shirked beneath her level gaze, Scootaloo bravely spoke up for her friends in a nervous rush. "It's like we said, Ms. Cheerilee! That Flash Bulb guy said he was Dinky's mom's friend from the newspaper and that he wanted to ask Dinky some stuff about Spitfire. She wasn't there, but she'd told us about it, so we figured we'd just tell him."

Emboldened, Sweetie Bell also spoke up. "It's not like he was a stranger or anything if he was Miss Ditzy's friend, right? He was very nice."

Cheerilee silenced them with a raised hoof. "Dinky, did you recognize him? Did you know him?"

"Well, no… but I didn't know Mommy knew Spitfire until two nights ago. Maybe she just didn't tell me about him."

"Girls. It doesn't matter what a pony says: if they aren't introduced to you by a pony you know and trust, then they're strangers. I'll look into this, but I don't want to see you girls talking to strange ponies again, okay?"

"Yes, Ms. Cheerilee," all four fillies responded by rote.

"Good." She put a smile back on. "Now run along and play, before recess is over."

"Didja hear, Bluebird? Some reporter pony was following Derpy around this morning!"

"Really? No way! So you think she really does know Spitfire then?"

"What else could it be?"

Rainbow Dash ground her teeth in annoyance, flying over to the two chatting pegasi sitting idly on a cloud. "Hey guys, c'mon! The rainstorm is in two days, so let's have less lounging and more cloud moving! We gotta make sure everything goes perfectly!"

"Sorry, Rainbow. C'mon Bluebird."

Dash glared at the pegasi as they flew off with the cloud, though her annoyance was directed less at their lounging and more at the topic of their discussion. It was all she had heard during the weather coordination that day: Derpy knew Spitfire, Ditzy was going to be in the paper, Ditzy, Ditzy, Ditzy! First she lied to her and told her off, now she was getting interviews with reporter ponies! How could it be there was a pegasus more famous around town than her own awesome self? How could a Wonderbolt like somepony in Ponyville better than her? She vented her anger on a small, nearby cloud, utterly destroying it and several of its friends. She flew away in a rage, leaving the bits of cloud to dissolve behind her.

Ditzy reentered the mailhouse early that evening with a sigh of relief. Even after Flash had left, she’d had to deal with the questions of the ponies she moved the mail to. It was one of the most draining shifts she'd ever worked, including that time they had to deliver a piano. She was more than a little startled to see Cheerilee in the main lobby. She gave her a cheerful smile and waved as the teacher got up off of her chair and walked over to her.

"Hello, Cheerilee! What’re you doing here?” Wait… why would she be here? She felt a small tinge of panic. “Did something happen to my Dinky?"

"Hello, Ditzy. No, there's nothing wrong with Dinky—well, not exactly."

Ditzy gave her a concerned look, which Cheerilee quickly dismissed with a hoof wave. "It's just that there was a pegasus hanging around the schoolyard during recess. He told some of the fillies, Dinky included, that he was your friend and that he wanted to ask Dinky some questions about you and Spitfire." Cheerilee frowned. "Ditzy, I could care less who your friends are, Spitfire or this Flash Bulb fellow, but I won't tolerate them coming around my little ponies like that without you letting me know about them."

Her face, which had sported a grimace since she heard Flash Bulb's name, was now flush with irritation and concern. "He is not my friend. That pesky camera-pony was following me all morning. Tell me that he didn't do anything to my Dinky!"

"Oh no, I sent him right away, though it seemed Dinky and her friends talked to him a little bit about you and Spitfire. Honestly, I don't hold to this kind of gossip, but everpony at school and around town is abuzz over this."

She tensed up momentarily, then relaxed again. The photo of her and Spitz was the talk of Ponyville, like Cheerilee said. Dinky couldn't tell him anything he couldn't hear from almost anypony about town. Still, she'd have to talk to her muffin and make sure she kept clear of strangers. She’d almost had a heart attack when Cheerilee told her about that. "I dunno what all the fuss is about either. I’ll talk to Dinky tonight, and make sure she knows to stay away from strange ponies."

"Good. And I'll be sure to keep that character away from her if he comes by again."

"Thanks. Bye, Cheerilee." Ditzy deposited her mailbags and walked with her to the door, where they both went their separate ways.

"Muffin, come down and wash your hooves! Dinner’s ready!"

Dinky had been hiding in her room since her mommy got home, claiming she was practicing her magic before her lesson tomorrow. In reality, she just didn't want to have to face her mommy and tell her that she'd ruined her secret even more. She'd just wanted everypony to like her mommy, and maybe make some friends! Was that such a bad thing? But she'd ended up breaking a promise her mommy had made, to Spitfire no less, and then made it even worse today. She sighed in exasperation.

"Muffin! Mmmm... hurry, while they’re still warm!"

Well, there was nothing for it; her mommy would find out sooner or later. She squared her shoulders and marched downstairs.

***

Ditzy had happily munched most of her way through dinner before she noticed how her Dinky was fidgeting in her seat and never quite meeting her gaze. Well, not looking at her face as much as usual, at least. Nopony could ever really manage to meet her gaze. She knew her Dinky had been through a lot lately, and probably more than she knew, what with rumors of the photo being spread all over town, so she tried to press gently. "So, Muffin, Ms. Cheerilee came to the mailhouse to talk to me today. She told me you and your friends were talking to Flash Bulb."

Dinky looked up at her resignedly, then slumped in her chair. “I know, Mommy. I’m sorry. I was too late to stop them; I tried to keep them from telling him, but he'd said he was your friend and… I'm sorry," she repeated lamely.

"Muffin, I’m upset because you went up to a strange pony. It’s not safe. You made me worry about you. Everypony knows about the photo already; I care about you being safe much, much more."

"Well, see…" She looked down in shame, nervously pushing a muffin crumb about with her magic.

"What, Dinky? Tell me."

She was starting to tear up slightly and finished in a rush. "It wasn't just the photo. I heard you talking to Spitfire, that night she visited, and I… I kinda told my new friends. I think they told him, too. I… I just wanted them to like me!"

She sat stunned, blinking for a second before fixing her daughter with a frown, her tone becoming even more serious. “What me and my friend was talking about was private. It wasn’t right of you to share that without asking."

Dinky finally broke under the admonishment, and for the second time in two nights, she was crying. "I-I know, Mommy, and I'm s-so sorry! All I w-wanted was to impress some p-ponies at school and for the other-r f-foals to like you and not go all quiet w-when we talked, but all I-I've done is screw up and b-break your promises! Now Spitfire i-is gonna be mad and it'll be ALL MY FAULT! I wish I c-could just go b-back and undo everything! I-I've been such a bad pony!"

For the second time in two nights, Ditzy went to her daughter and comforted her as she cried. "Don't say that, Dinky. Never say that. You are not a bad pony. I’m sorry you had to find out about this, and I’m upset you shared the photo and our little talk without asking me. But I accept your apology and I’m happy that you’re making friends. It’s been done, and now you know not to tell, so we can move on. Okay?"

Dinky quieted down with a sniff, and gave her a timid smile. "Okay, Mommy."

She returned the smile. "I love you, Muffin."

"I love you too, Mommy."

She continued to hold Dinky for a while longer before the two went about their evening, Ditzy giving her daughter a typically slow reading of one of her favorite stories before the two retired for the night. As Ditzy tucked her daughter in and kissed her goodnight, she began to think that maybe it wasn't so bad. Spitz would understand and hopefully, Dinky would perk up soon and enjoy the new friends she'd made. With hope and happy thoughts she made her way to her own bed and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Part 3: Harsh Words

Spitfire yawned loudly as she slowly winged her way toward the Wonderbolts' aerodrome. Though situated a fair distance outside of and significantly closer to the ground than Cloudsdale, it was still a majestic sight. As a training facility and a performance dome, it was nearly twice the size of the Cloudeseum, featuring not only cloud seating, but ground bleachers and high-rise VIP boxes to cater to the Wonderbolts' significant land pony fan-base. Seeing the white marble structure was usually one of the high points of her morning and never failed to instill a sense of awe and pride in her, though today the feeling was lessened significantly by the large number of reporter ponies crowding the performer's entrance, barely barred from entry by numerous security ponies.

On seeing her approach, the crowd exploded towards her in a rush, security hurriedly moving forward to prevent them from mobbing her.

"Spitfire, any comment on—"

"—old friend Ditzy?"

"Spitfire, are you and—"

"Spitfire, have the Wonderbolts—"

"—word on Ditzy Doo's-"

"—confirmed fillyfooler?"

There were too many voices around her, all clashing together, but hearing Ditzy's name chilled her. She schooled her face to hide her shock. She'd dealt with the press before: give them nothing, and they could say nothing concrete. It must have been a coincidence. This recent fillyfooler rumor about her must have caused ponies to question if her long-time friend had been something more. She began to calm down, her fears averted.

"STAY BACK! This way, Ms. Spitfire."

Security had carved her a path to the entrance and she shot them a grateful look as she hustled into the building.

She made her way through the facility to the break room, where Soarin sat waiting, finishing up his breakfast whilst glaring at the newspaper with a scowl. She frowned; whatever was going on, it must have been bad to sour his normally cheerful, friendly mood. Best get to the bottom of this quickly. She put on her most winning smile. "Hey, Soarin. What's up? You look like somepony canceled a bake sale."

He didn't laugh.

Her smile faltered some, and she tried again. "Soo… what's with all these reporters, huh? Didn't think we were doing a press release today."

His response was livid with accusation and sarcasm. "Well, I don't know, captain, think it has something to do with this?" He slid the newspaper, an Equestria Today, over to her, open to the front page.

As she read the headline article, her eyes widened in shock. "FAMOUS FLYER DITZY DOO DISCUSSES WONDERBOLTS IN SECRET WITH TEAM LEADER SPITFIRE." She felt a chill: they knew. Somepony must have seen her enter Ponyville, must have told the press. She pushed the paper away forcefully.

Soarin brought her out of her daze. "What's wrong? You get tired of having me as your Second? Wanted your old flying buddy back instead of—"

She slammed her hoof down on the table. "SOARIN… don't. Just don't." All humor drained from her face. She glared daggers at him before turning away and storming off toward the lockers, afraid of what she might do to him if she didn't look away. He’d looked startled; she doubted he’d ever seen her this angry before. He followed right behind her, catching up to her as she began to stuff her flightsuit into her saddlebags.

"Where are you going?"

She neither slowed down nor turned to face him. "Ponyville. I gotta deal with this."

"You can't just leave! What about the training? We have a show coming up and you can't just run off—"

She slammed the locker shut, cutting him off. She sighed and finally turned to face him, a defeated look in her eyes. "Look… she doesn't remember anything, okay? Any of it before the accident. She finally had a little peace in that village, and now she's going to be mobbed by those camera vultures, constantly pestered and yelled at and she won't even know why." Her voice grew vehement. "But she's still my friend, and I got her into this press mess, so I'm gonna go to Ponyville, and neither you nor the training schedule will keep me from helping my friend."

His anger deflated and his shoulders slumped, his voice hesitant and defeated. "Yeah… look, I'm sorry, okay? I just… go help your friend. I'll slot in one of the rookies, or something."

Spitfire understood his jealousy, even if it was unfounded. She put her hoof on his shoulder and gave him a small smile. "You earned your spot here, Soarin. Don't ever tell yourself you didn't, okay? You are my Second, not her."

He perked up somewhat, blushing slightly; it seemed she'd known exactly what was bothering him. "Yeah… thanks, Spitfire. You want me to distract the press?"

"Yeah, you do that. I'll go out the service entrance. Thanks."

Shortly thereafter, Spitfire flew off toward Ponyville, once again clad in her unremarkable flight saddle and flying cap. Her face was a mask of determination. She'd promised herself she'd help Ditzy, and these reporters could ruin her friend's life in an instant. She was not about to let that happen. Ditzy deserved the happy little life she had, and no reporter was going to ruin that for her… assuming they hadn't already. She pushed herself faster.

Ditzy woke up three seconds before her alarm clock began to ring at her. She let it go on for a while before she managed to summon the energy to place her hoof between the bells. She almost fell back asleep, but finally surrendered to the morning and rolled out of her bed. Last working-day this week, she kept reminding herself, and what a mantra it was. She just wanted the whole week to be over. Between the camera-pony and all the ponies in town clamoring at her about Spitz… one more day. She began her routine of making muffins and waking up her daughter, and for once her little filly got out of bed eagerly. They ate quickly and began the long walk to school, Dinky energetically bouncing alongside her mother.

The source of her excitement was not long kept a secret. "Ms. Sparkler said she thinks I'm ready to levitate two things at once now. Isn't that cool, Mommy?"

Ditzy smiled. She was proud her Dinky was making such progress with her magic. Since she couldn't teach her daughter by herself, she was afraid she would lag behind the other unicorn fillies without the help of a tutor like Sparkler. Dinky's progress came as a great relief. "Yes, Muffin, it sounds very cool."

"Yeah, she said she may even teach me how… to juggle…" Dinky’s smile faded as the two ponies slowed to a stop, the schoolhouse coming into view a short distance away.

There were two clearly separate groups of ponies on the school yard: one was a large group of reporter ponies which occasionally attempted to question Ms. Cheerilee, and the other a mixture of parents, their children, and Ms. Cheerilee herself, who threw icy glares at any reporter who dared to cross the divide between the groups, a divide that seemed to be maintained by her sheer willpower alone. As Ditzy came into view, the reporters turned on her, though it was unclear if they were running toward her, or away from Ms. Cheerilee.

Ditzy felt panic well up as the swarm descended on her, quickly placing a hoof around Dinky so she wouldn't lose her in the crowd. The filly looked toward her mother and scooted up against her, wide-eyed and head swiveling in response to the seemingly endless flashbulbs.

"Ms. Doo, any comment on the Wonderbolts?"

"Ditzy, can you confirm that Spitfire is a fillyfooler?"

"Ms. Doo, are you coming out of retirement?"

"Ms. Doo, any comment on—"

"Dizty, are you being—"

"—new Wonderbolts career?"

"Why the secrecy, Ms.—?"

"Ditzy—"

"Ditzy!"

"Ms. Doo, any—"

It quickly descended to a jumble of shouting voices, but some of the questions brought the tickle back into her mind with a vengeance, turning it into a throbbing headache. She gripped Dinky tightly, pulling her close, and swung her head around, desperately searching for a friendly face in the mob.

She finally found one; Ms. Cheerilee was making her way through the crowd through a combination of insistent, but polite, brushing aside of newsponies and the occasional frigid stare when they refused to yield. She gratefully allowed her to take Dinky off her hooves, and began to walk away from the schoolhouse. As she took off toward the mailhouse, she got away from some of the ground newsponies, but was forced to contend with a plethora of orbiting pegasi. Flying in the correct direction was difficult enough for her at the best of times: she often had to stop and find landmarks to correct her crooked flights. With the reporters constantly buzzing around her, it was nearly impossible. She picked what she hoped was the right way and flew off hastily, still shaken by the reporters who quickly followed.

Rainbow Dash was flying back toward her floating home from an early morning cloudmoving when she saw the commotion down in Ponyville. A huge throng of reporters and villagers were slowly heading toward the post office, the blond mane and grey coat of Ditzy Doo only visible for the briefest of instants at the center of the crowd. The flare of jealousy she’d harbored renewed itself with vigor; it seemed Ditzy was getting to be famous after all. Never mind that Dash had saved Spitfire's life, never mind that she was best young flyer: Ditzy got the press, not her. Ditzy met with Wonderbolts, not her. She ripped her gaze from the horrid scene, her eyes watering slightly, due solely to the cold morning wind, of course. She sped up, wanting to get away from the whole scene as fast as possible. Still in her emotional daze, it took her a second to notice there was a yellow pegasus flying next to her.

"Hey… Rainbow Dash, right? Hold up, I need to talk to you."

She would recognize that voice anywhere. She screeched to a halt along with the other pegasus and a quick once-over of the pony confirmed it. "Spitfire? Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

Spitfire pulled away from her a bit, apparently startled by her sudden excitement at meeting the Wonderbolt. The celebrity facehoofed with a frustrated groan. "Yeah, it's me. Look, I don’t have time for—"

"Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

"Hey, look—”

"Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

"—Dash…"

"Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

Spitfire put her hooves on Rainbow's shoulders and shook her lightly. "Focus!" She obediently quieted and Spitfire gave a small sigh of relief. "I'm looking for Ditzy, Rainbow Dash. Have you seen her around?"

Her excitement melted visibly, her wide smile turning to a scowl. It figured. For a brief, glorious moment, she'd believed Spitfire had actually wanted to talk to her. Her response was sour despite her best efforts. "Oh, yeah. Of course you want to talk to her. Last I saw, she was surrounded by reporter ponies near the post office. She isn't hard to miss, just look for the huge throng of ponies and the blinding flashbulb convention."

Spitfire broke into a series of muttered curses that left Rainbow shocked before she returned to the matter at hand. "Hmmm. I'll have to get her out of that, somehow…"

"Hey, I know. Why don't you both keep saying you don't know each other? Seemed to work so far, well, up until now that is."

Her comment was tinted with bitterness and Spitfire quickly rounded on her. "Wait, what? What's your problem, Rainbow?"

Dash's pent-up frustrations poured out before she could even begin to think of stopping them. "I'm the one who's been looking up to you since… forever! I'm the one who saved your life, I'm the one who trained to fly like you, I'M the one who wants to be a Wonderbolt. All she ever did was lie about knowing you and drop off the mail. She flies like a drunk brick, but you want to talk to her? It just isn't… IT ISN'T FAIR!" She was left short of breath and panting after her outburst, and her face began to pale as she realized just who she'd been shouting at.

The celebrity's face bore a stone-cold frown. She slowly flew forward until her nose was only inches away from the other pegasus's. Her tone was as cold as her face was. "For your information, Dash, I made her promise not to tell anypony that she knew me. I like you, but you need to grow up and see that this isn't about you. From what I've heard just now, you haven't read the newspaper yet, so you don't know the whole story, and I do still owe you, so I might not buck your face in if you refrain from insulting my friend again."

Dash's voice was slightly queasy. Spitfire's anger wasn't exactly subtle. "You made her—Why would you make her promise something like that?"

"I don't have time to explain. Look, I need your help to get those reporters off of Ditzy. You gonna help me with this or not?"

"If… if you still want me to, yeah. Sure." Dash's voice had gone very quiet, and her face sported a deep blush.

She nodded. "I need you to, Dash. I’m not just going to up and forgive you for this, but that can wait. Here's what you have to do…"

Rainbow Dash's head spun as she forced her way through the crowd of villagers and press ponies toward Derpy. Was Spitfire ashamed of being associated with somepony like Derpy?No, she couldn't believe that; not after how she'd acted. She finally got within sight range of Derpy—Ditzy, she corrected herself, and she felt a wave of shame wash over her. It was clear that she was not enjoying the attention as Rainbow had believed. Maybe that was why Spitfire had made her promise, she thought, because Ditzy didn't like the attention… jeeze, it looks like she’s almost as bad around the press as Fluttershy.

Her guilty mind attacked her relentlessly. And you tried to make her break that promise didn't you? You were just gonna pressure her into doing what you wanted and leave her to this mob. You would have lied too if Spitfire made you promise something. All she was doing was being loyal to her friend, and you called her a walleye and a featherbrain. She cringed. First her words to Ditzy had been less than kind, then she went and made a fool of herself in front of her idol. She squared her shoulders and continued to move through the crowd with renewed vigor. There’s nothing for it; I’m gonna help Spitfire and set things right, even… even if I have to apologize to Ditzy Doo.

As Ditzy made her way into town, her progress toward the mailhouse was slowed significantly by a fresh mass of waiting reporters and villagers attracted to the commotion and paparazzi. She was overwhelmed by all the attention, her head was pounding from all their questions and the flashbulbs. Her constant requests that they leave her alone or let her get to work went entirely ignored. She finally made her way into the mailhouse, the crowd surging in behind her. One of her coworkers managed to elbow his way through and push her into the boss-stallion's office, some other mailponies firmly preventing the crowd from following her behind the package counter into employee-only territory.

The boss's office was a small, chaotic room, with piles of paper on every conceivable surface organized in a system only the boss-stallion seemed to know. His window blinds were blissfully closed, shutting out the reporters.

"Hey, Ditzy, so you finally made it—Woah." As he turned from sorting through some files piled on a chair, the boss-stallion finally got a good look at her. She was still a bit pale and shaking slightly, her wings pulled in tight to her body. She was rubbing her forehead with a stifled groan.

"I’m sorry, sir. The camera-ponies made it a bit hard to get here."

He peeked through his blinds quickly to see firsthoof the reporter swarm that had so jammed up his post office. "Yeah, I can see that. Look, Ditzy… you can't deliver mail this way. Not just because it'd slow ya down too much, but we can't just have a whole stampede of ponies going up on somepony's property every time you try to deliver a letter. Take the day off and deal with this, okay? Then you can come back Monday to business as usual."

Her heart sank, though she kept a smile on her face. If she was delivering the mail, she had an excuse not to answer the camera-ponies and maybe they'd leave her alone, like Flash Bulb had. If she walked out of here without mailbags, they'd be all over her. But there was nothing for it; the boss-stallion had a point. "Yes, sir. I’ll see you Monday."

The walk back out of the mailhouse was a lot harder than the walk in: more newsponies had shown up and a large number of Ponyville residents had also joined the press of bodies. By the time she had made it out the front door, she was almost completely immobilized. The questions had redoubled, as if to make up for time lost while she was in the boss's office.

"Ditzy Doo, can you confirm that Spitfire is leaving the Wonderbolts?"

"Ditzy Doo, are you and Spitfire fillyfoolers?"

"Please… leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please… "

Her voice went unheard. She shrunk in on herself; she was so confused. What were they talking about? Why wouldn't they leave her alone?

Ditzy had just seen Rainbow's face in the crowd when the mass around her suddenly shifted and pulled back from her somewhat. Looking up she saw her friend Spitz, clad in a blue flightsuit, come shooting down from the sky. She landed a short distance away from the reinvigorated throng and stood waiting calmly. The reporters, having garnered little from Ditzy, quickly turned on their new prey.

Spitfire baited them along, flashing a warm, 'celebrity' smile. "Ladies and gentlestallions of the associated press, as Ditzy is still recovering from her accident, I will be answering a limited number of questions in her stead before I return to the aerodrome."

As the reporters and no small number of village ponies flocked to the celebrity, Rainbow Dash trotted up to her and whispered in her ear. "C'mon, Ditzy, follow me. She'll ditch the reporters and meet us at my house." She gave the still disoriented Ditzy a little shove to get her going, and the two of them snuck, as much as Ditzy was capable of sneaking, into a nearby alleyway. From there, they quickly made their way across town, which was now blessedly void of reporters, and up to her magnificent cloud home.

Ditzy immediately collapsed on a nearby couch as Rainbow Dash moved a cloud to block the open doorway. They existed in awkward silence for a while, both remembering their last meeting. Rainbow Dash finally shuffled over to the couch, standing next to her collapsed form. "Hey, uh, Ditzy…"

She turned to look at Dash, with a forced smile on her face. "Oh, thanks for the help, Rainbow Dash. For helping me get away from those camera ponies, I mean."

She winced. After all she'd said to her, Ditzy was still being nice. She didn't deserve to be thanked by her. "No, Ditzy, I wanted…" She let out a breath and finished in a rush. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, for two nights ago. I didn't know about your promise, but I still shouldn't have… I'm sorry." She hadn't had a lot of practice at apologizing, but Ditzy's small smile reassured her somewhat.

"It’s okay, Rainbow Dash. I—" She was cut off by a sudden banging on the makeshift cloud door.

"Rainbow! Open up!" It was Spitfire's voice, and she sounded drained. Rainbow quickly moved the cloud, allowing the dejected-looking Wonderbolt into her home. Spitfire rushed over to Ditzy. "What happened, Ditz? How did this happen? Are you all right?"

The gray mare shot a quick glance at Rainbow, which she caught. "Oh, don't worry about her. I already told her we know each other."

Ditzy relaxed somewhat. "Oh, it was a silly thing. An accident. Don't be mad, Spitz; my Muffin found the picture of us you gave me and showed it to some friends at school. Word got around."

"Oh." Her surprise was evident. She shook her head with a rueful chuckle. “And here I thought it was some snooping reporter I could give a good pounding.” She quickly tensed up again, and tentatively asked her ritual question. "Ditz, with all that's happened… do you remember who I am?"

Ditzy gave her a skeptical look. "You’re my muffin-eater-friend. A Wonderbolt and... and you’re still my best friend, right?"

“Yeah, I am.” Spitfire slumped, but Rainbow noticed she was still tense, even if the answer had relieved some of her nervousness.

Dash cleared her throat. "So, uh, Spitfire, if… if you don't mind me asking… now what?"

Spitfire broke out of her slump to look at her with narrowed eyes, evidently still upset with her. "Now, we wait for the press to leave to make their deadlines and get Ditzy back home."

"Well, if we're just waiting… what's going on? How the heck do you know Ditzy?"

The object of her curiosity also chimed in, much to Dash’s surprise. "Spitz, what’s going on? The camera-pony’s questions are tickling in my mind. Why? Why are they asking such weird questions?"

Her friend turned away quickly. She mulled in silence, before turning back around. "Look, Ditz… I don't wanna tell you this… you shouldn't have to hear this. You don't want to hear this."

"Tell me."

The yellow mare looked at her with pleading eyes, which were beginning to fill with tears. "Ditzy, please don't ask me to do this. You don't know and—and you shouldn't have to—"

"Spitz." Her voice was commanding for the first time Rainbow Dash had ever heard. "I remember far back, and the earliest memories I have are being in a white room with casts and pregnant with Dinky. I want—no, I need to know. Who am I? They said we flew together? We flew on a team?"

"WHAT?!" Rainbow stood slack-jawed, staring at her like she had grown an extra head. "NO WAY! NO WAY! SHE WAS NOT A WONDERBOLT! NO WAY!" She turned back to Spitfire. "...Right?"

She sighed. "Ditz… are you sure?"

Her friend nodded, and she sighed again.

"Okay. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I guess it's better you hear it from me than read it out of some newspaper. Same for you, Rainbow Dash. Somepony besides Ditzy around here should know what really happened. No, she wasn't a Wonderbolt… quite. But by Celestia, she would have—she should have been. She was a better darn flyer then than half of us are now. Probably better than you, too, were it not for your Sonic Rainboom." She reached her head back around to her saddlebags, pulling out a worn leather book.

It was embossed with a title on the front cover, reading "The Amazing Ditzy Doo and Spitfire" in fancy silver filigree. She deposited it on the coffee table and flipped it open to the first page, which sported a photograph of two pegasus fillies, both very young, one yellow with orange mane and one grey with platinum blonde mane smiling cheesily. She was visibly tearing as the other two pegasi sat next to her on the couch and looked over her shoulder at the first picture in her album. "That's where we first met. It was summer flight camp, and you'd just moved to Cloudsdale…"

Ditzy was listening in a trance as the pounding in her head, triggered and tickled by so many reporter's questions, finally surged and coalesced into a long-lost memory…

Part 5: The Best Young Flier

She saw the cloud begin to spin out of the corner of her eye, felt the shift in the air current around it. She had not gotten it spinning very fast before it abruptly sucked her in. She got trapped in the spin and shot out backwards, barely managing to stop herself before hitting the cloudface below.

"Manure-smelling, spinning son of a…" She landed, quickly launched a short tirade of curses aimed at clouds everywhere, and stomped the cloudface beneath her. Eventually, she ran out of curses and took a calming breath, which did little to actually calm her, then launched herself toward the next detested white mass.

She had gotten the new cloud spinning a bit faster than the first before she lost control, but she did not manage to completely stop her herself this time and crashed into the cloudface. Only briefly bothered by the light impact, she jumped back to her hooves and set a dagger gaze on the cloud. By Celestia, this cloud was just—

"Hey, Spitz. Whatcha doing?"

Though Ditzy’s voice wasn't particularly loud, it made the distracted pegasus jump a bit.

"Hey. How'd you know where I was? I didn't expect anyone to find me here." She didn't turn around, and her voice sounded strained even to her.

"You always come here when you want to be alone. Yeah, I figured I'd work on my routine a bit. I've had one in mind for a while." Ditzy's voice was still soft. She'd never heard her speak that way. Not a whisper, but… gentle.

She didn't need to be coddled. "You're practicing pretty early. Wish I'd done that instead of going out with just a couple months of planning and making a fool of myself yesterday."

Ditzy walked up and put a hoof on her shoulder, patting her gently. "Oh, don't say that. I thought you were amazing."

Her eyes stung. She didn't need to be coddled, and she really didn't need to be pitied. She pulled her shoulder away. Her tone was ripe with sarcasm, but her voice was shaking. "Oh, yes, I was just fabulous, wasn't I, sitting there in 5th place? Well, it's too bad that nopony cares what you think or I would have taken that crown away."

The hoof stopped patting and started shaking. "Well… maybe nopony cares what I think, but I'd hoped that maybe you would." She spun around, heading for the exit.

She had made it about a dozen steps away before Spitfire whipped her head around and reached out to Ditzy with a hoof. "Ditzy, wait."

She went a couple more steps before complying. Her harsh look melted to one of concern as she looked back over her shoulder.

Spitifire's voice was tremulous and strained. "I'm… I'm sorry… I just…" The hoof which had been reaching out to her retreating friend started to knead at her eyes. Her gaze dropped to the clouds beneath her.

She felt like she was about to cry.

She never cried.

Suddenly, Ditzy was there, pulling her now-sniffling friend into a half-hug. Spitfire leaned on her shoulder, breathing ragged, sniffling madly and her eyes filling with tears. But the tears never fell. Despite her failure and missing her chance at what she wanted most, she still could not cry.

Ditzy held her as her breathing returned to normal and she started to get a hold of herself. She gently pulled out of the hug, blushing slightly.

"You all right?"

"Yeah…" She sniffled again. "Yeah, I think I'll be okay." Her eyes were still watery and her smile was half-hearted, but she felt better. "So, uh… you said you were here to work out your routine?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was planning to. Why?"

She swirled her hoof on the cloudface, her blush growing a bit deeper. "Could… could I see it?"

Ditzy raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"I mean, you saw my routine yesterday. I just wanna see what I'm gonna be up against, is all." She gave a short chuckle and a forced smile.

She contemplated a moment before smiling gently. "Sure. I could use your input on it anyway. Just remember, it's still pretty rough right now," she said, shaking a hoof at her with mock sternness, "so don't just shoot my wings full of holes, okay?"

Her smile grew more genuine. "Deal."

By the time Ditzy had her clouds in place, Spitfire was almost back to normal. Her face still felt a bit hot, but at least she wasn't sniffling anymore.

Ditzy's ring section was impressive as always, though a bit simple for a mare of her skill, and while she was a bit shaky as she went through her sharp-turn pillars, her free-flight at the end removed any lingering doubt as to why she was named MVP of the Skydancers. But it had been made painfully obvious to the observing pegasus that if you didn't have both speed and grace, you wouldn't place.

Ditzy just didn't have the speed. Compared to the pegasi they'd seen yesterday, her relatively dainty pace was not that impressive.

The performing pegasus landed next to her and gave her a look that was less than hopeful.

"So, what'd you think?"

She was careful to keep her face neutral. "It was pretty good. I saw you slip a bit during the pillars, but I think you caught that."

"You didn't think it was too slow?"

"Oh, pssh." She gave Ditzy a disregarding hoof wave. "You know me. I think everything's too slow."

Ditzy slumped. Well, she hadn't really expected it to work. Ditz was too self-critical to be so easily assuaged. "It's too slow. I saw them yesterday; almost everypony who got above 7th place was almost as fast as…" She turned to look at her.

"…As what?"

"As you." Her discouraged expression slowly faded as she began to pace, occasionally tapping her chin in thought. After a few moments, she stopped pacing and stood in front of Spitfire. "Okay. I have an idea." She held up an upturned right hoof. "I've got the stunt flying part down, but I'm too slow to be exciting." She switched, holding her left hoof upturned. "You're one of the fastest fliers ever," Spitfire nodded graciously, "But your precision flying is—uhhh… needs work."

She nodded again, if a bit less enthusiastically. "No denying that."

Her voice picked up in excitement. "So if I teach you about stunt flying and you can train me to fly faster..." She reared up and slammed her front hooves together with a resonating clop. "Boom! We'll win for sure!"

Spitfire's smile turned slightly sour. "Teach each other? I dunno, Ditz; that'd just be too weird."

"Hey, I'm still flight planner for the Skydancers, and you were Team Captain of Junior Speedsters for like two and a half years. We were both multi-year MVPs. Who the heck better to teach us than each other?"

"Well, I was thinking of asking mom to—"

"Ha! Yeah right. I mean, no offense, but we both know what your mom's schedule is like."

She had her there. She hadn't really harbored much hope of her mom helping her out anyway. She'd be lucky to get an hour of training a month out of the perpetually busy Wonderbolt. She let out a long sigh. "Okay. Let's do it."

"Yes!" She shot out her foreleg and Spitfire quickly high-hoofed her, then she spirited over to her saddlebags, returning with her school planner and a pencil. She leaned down and set them on the cloudface, flipped through the planner to the last week of the year and carefully tore it out. She took up the pencil and scribbled furiously, then spit it out to point at the items she had outlined in the week.
"Okay. So I have Skydancers practice after school until six, except Fridays, and you work at the weather factory...?"

"Eight to five."

She scribbled it in. "Okay, so that's seven to ten in the evening, then five to seven in the morning. Say noon to six on Saturday, then Sundays off?"

She mulled it over a bit before nodding. "Yeah, that works."

"So I'll teach you in the evening and you teach in the morning."

"Nah, alternate it. I'll do Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the morning and Tuesday and Thursday evenings."

"And we work on routines Saturday."

"Right."

As they planned, Spitfire shot a defiant glare at her own saddlebags, within which lay yesterday's hated white ribbon. She had never lost a competition before, but she sure wasn't going to a second time.

Spitfire stared up at her archnemisis, which floated patiently waiting for her, mocking her with its soft, puffy white substance which she knew stung quite a bit when slammed into. She refocused from the cloud back to her… teacher? Mentor? Yeesh, what was she supposed to call her friend-turned-instructor? One thing was for sure: Ditzy sure seemed to enjoy her position, and she was more long-winded than quite a few of Spitfire's real teachers had been.

"—so when cloudspinning, it's important that you give to the cloud's pull a bit. If you try and fight it too hard, you'll either break away or get on a bad angle and get sucked in. Also, try to lean in toward the cloud a bit. Angle your wings like this, okay?"

She was so lost. "Uhh… okay!"

Spitfire took off, soaring up and around the cloud, trying to do everything Ditzy had told her to do. She failed miserably and once again tumbled into the spinning cloud. "WOOOAAAAH!" She shot out of the cloud, Ditzy barely managing to dive out of the way. She had stopped, but her world was still spinning, and far faster than the cloud had been. She clutched her head and groaned, praying for the vertigo to end.

Her impromptu instructor had no sympathy for her. "What was that? Did you even listen to me at all?"

She groaned again. "Gimme a sec here…"

Ditzy crossed her arms and hovered impatiently until Spitfire got herself under control. Once her head left her arms, the waiting pegasus continued bombarding her. "You were fighting the pull, you didn't angle your wings at all, your flight track was—"

"DITZ!" Her friend stopped, momentarily shocked by her outburst. "Look, I'm not one of your synchronized flier buddies, all right? I've never had stunt flying lessons and the most I manipulate clouds at work is to push them around! I didn't get half of what you said to do!" She took a slow breath and continued a bit more calmly. "Look, if this is gonna work, you're gonna have to explain a lot of this to me, and not just yell at me about how lousy I am."

Her face fell from the chastisement. "You're right. I'm sorry. I guess this will take more getting used to than I'd thought." She chuckled weakly, then held her wing out at an angle, pointing to it with a hoof. "Okay, look here. You angle your wing to better line up with the cloud's pull…"

Ditzy half-stumbled into the gym, with eyelids drooping and yawning blearily. She staggered over to her annoyingly active friend who was busy doing push-ups. "Mgghfh."

Spitfire stopped her warm-up and fixed the dour Ditzy with a bright, cheerful smile. "And good morning to you! It's a wonderful day we have ahead of us, so let's meet it with some energy and a big smile!"

Ditzy was not amused and shot her a poisonous look. "Tell me why I thought five a.m. training was a good idea?"

"Oh, I can't remember. Something about Best Young Flier or something?"

"Ah, that was it. Well, I'm not gonna be best young anything at five in the morning till that coffee-bean muffin kicks in… anyhow, what are we doing? Push-ups?" Sounded easy enough.

She motioned the slowly waking pegasus to follow her over to the track, where two saddles affixed with weights were waiting on the simple loop of cloud. "Weighted flying!"

"…Huh?"

"It isn't too complicated, unlike somepony's lessons." Ditzy rolled her eyes and made a small circle with her hoof, motioning her to get on with it. "You just put on the saddle and fly laps. The extra weight helps build wing strength. Oh, and remember to time your breathing like I told you about last time. It'll help you out a lot."

"That doesn't sound too hard. Let's get to it." She leaned down toward the nearest saddle when Spitfire put her hoof on it.

"This one's mine. That one," she said, pointing a hoof at the other saddle, "is yours."

Ditzy looked at the other saddle, then back to Spitfire indignantly. "Oh, come on. Yours has more than twice the weight of mine!"

"Well, seeing as you haven't ever done this training before and that your wings are still a little shorter than mine, it seemed like a good idea."

"Fine!" She grumbled a bit, but worked her way into the saddle. Give her a kiddie version, would she?

Two laps later she had forgiven Spitz completely and just wanted to stagger over the finish line and go die somewhere. She finally reached the line and collapsed onto the cloudface, panting heavily.

Spitfire stopped and turned around, flying back over to her. The racing freak was just barely starting to sweat. "Uhh, Ditz…we're supposed to go for four laps, remember?

She groaned, fighting the feeling of nausea, but she managed to pull herself back up and slowly took off flying again.

"Wait, we're not gonna keep cloudspinning?"

Ditzy shook her head. "Nah, not today. We're not really getting anywhere with it right now. So I thought we'd try..." She lowered her voice lowered dramatically. "Rings."

"Oh, joy." The one thing she could possibly be worse at than cloudspinning.

"Now, now, rings are a great introduction to stunt flying, they just take some practice." She motioned for Spitfire up beside her as she slowly flew toward the ring slalom she had assembled. "One of the crucial components of stunt flying is that it requires a different method of thought than racing. In a race, you focus on the now: How fast am I going? How much farther do I have to go? What place am I in?

"While stunt flying, while in the rings, you have to think ahead, and perform many little motions in preparation for one big move. For example," she waved ahead of her, where she was approaching the first ring, "I should start twisting, shift my weight, and angle my wings while I am still inside this first ring so that I can immediately barrel roll and make the next. By doing it ahead of time, the motion looks smooth and practiced, and is far more controlled than trying to do it all at once." She demonstrated her barrel roll, which came off just as smooth as she had claimed it would. "You try."

She was a bit hesitant. "All right…" She tried to twist and angle ahead of time as Ditzy had, but only ended up rolling too early and feeling the slap of the cloud as she broke through the ring.

"No, too early. You tried to do it all at once. Less reflex, more thought."

"Yeah, I know."

"Okay, again." She went to the broken ring and flew through very slowly. "You have to start twisting right here, like this…"

She looked askance at the newest torture equipment Spitz was bringing out. It didn't look so bad, just… odd. "What the heck is that?"

Spitfire cackled. "This, my friend, will make weighted saddles seem a pleasant memory."

"They look like bandages." There was something embedded in the cloth, but she couldn't make out just what they… oh. "Bandages with weights?"

She lifted one of the long, cloth strips and extended a wing. "Yup, pretty much." She expertly wrapped the strip around her wing so that the embedded weights ran in a line along the underside. "The principle isn't too difficult: you just wrap and flap." She gave a few slow wing beats. "Unlike weighted saddles, wing wraps focus solely on the wings, rather than the wing and back. Just don't start off too heavy; these things can sprain your wingjoint in a heartbeat if you do."

After her third attempt at wrapping her wings failed, Spitfire helped her wrap them and supervised her first few flaps to ensure the weight and motions were right. Ditzy kept glancing at her wings as she flapped in place; they felt like they were larger than they should be. "This feels really weird."

"You'll get used to it. Okay, four sets, then we do timed laps. We gotta see if you can shave a minute off your training circuit…"

Spitfire sat on the cloudface, looking at that… that sun-blasted cloud to Ditzy and back again. Her friend was pacing and tapping her chin with a hoof as she so often did when in thought. She finally stopped. "Well, maybe we could… no, we tried that, didn't we?" The pacing resumed.

She grunted and kept racking her brain for some method they had overlooked. She'd been led through the paces, followed Ditzy in spinning, even had her fly next to her and physically correct her flight as she went around. But try as they might, she still couldn't spin that cloud.

Ditzy stopped again, sighing. "I just don't get it. You remember what to do, right?"

She gave her a level look. "Of course I remember what to do. You've told me so many times I hear it in my sleep."

"Well, it must be something!" She stomped the cloudface in frustration. "You're just pulling away or flinching out or… something." She looked askance at the cloud, then back to her. She tapped her chin a couple more times before freezing mid-tap.

"Close your eyes." It came out as a mere whisper.

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You must be doing something wrong. I've seen your approach more than a dozen times; your approach is fine. So this time, once you start to circle, close your eyes and just focus on the feel of the cloudpull and what I told you to do."

Her other eyebrow joined the first as her jaw slowly slid open. "You want me to try cloudspinning blind? I won't make it five seconds!"

"Then it wouldn't put you too far behind your previous attempts, would it?"

She was silent for a time. As much as she wanted to say something, what could she say? It was true. And it wasn't like they were getting anywhere now.

"Don't think of it as flying blind. Think of it as removing distractions."

"You just wanna see me crash, don't you?"

Ditzy gave her a tired look. "Would you just shut up and trust me? Go on."

"Fine, I'll do it." She took off, shooting around the cloud as she must have done a thousand times before.

Ditzy shouted up to her from the cloudface below. "Now close your eyes!"

She hesitantly squinched her eyes shut. Okay, just focus. Lean in toward the cloud, angle the wing… this was stupid. She was gonna crash. She felt the pull of the spin strengthen and she sped up. This was it. The cloud would pull her in and shoot her out any second now. She winced and braced herself for the impact when she heard what she shortly recognized as laughter from the pegasus below.

That was all she needed, her friend laughing at her as she wiped out. She was about to yell at her to quit it when Ditzy shouted up to her.

"You got it, Spitz! Keep going!"

"Huh?"

She peeked with one eye, then opened them both in shock, staring at the cloud next to her, which was spinning far faster than she had ever managed to get it going before. She was doing it. "WOOOOHO-AAAHHHH!" She let out a triumphant shout shortly before she was consumed by the pull. She was again spun around and shot out, though this time much faster. She eventually petered to a stop, clutching her head, fighting down the nausea and moaning loudly.

Ditzy hurriedly flew over, chattering excitedly at her, oblivious or uncaring of her fragile state. "That was it! You did it! You've got it!" She laughed. "Well, I mean you had it. It was still a little rough, but it was good for your first time. Up until you opened your eyes, I mean. Then it didn't go so well. Oh, I almost forgot. Wait here for a second, I'll be right back." Ditzy flew off toward their saddlebags.

Right, like she was going to go anywhere. By the time Ditzy had flown back over with her father's camera strapped around her neck, her stomach had settled a bit and she was no longer seeing double.

"What's that for?"

"Get over in front of the cloud, before it stops spinning." Ditzy grinned. "We have to celebrate this momentous occasion."

"Oh, shut up." She said it in good humor, still elated by her success, and complied with her request, flying in front of the cloud and showing off her victory pose.

The camera flashed.

Spitfire chuckled quietly at the picture beneath her hoof, still amused by the ludicrous "victory pose" she had sported as a filly. Not to say she didn't still have a victory pose, but it was far more dignified now.

"That was some of the most intense training I'd ever done. Up to that point, of course. It was all so new, so confusing." She gave a soft chuckle. "It seems so easy, looking back on it now." She paused, still halfway lost in thought. "It was worth it, every second of it. Next time Best Young Flier came around, we were ready." She turned the page to where another ribbon lay, though this one was not white. She stroked it idly as she had done years ago.

"Of course, you couldn't tell our nerves that…"

"Okay, numba six, you're up!"

Ditzy gulped and spared a moment of her nervous hoof-tapping to glance back at her flank, which was adorned with a number eight. Spitfire couldn't help but feel some of the same nervousness that was plaguing her friend, though her own flank sported a number thirteen. She was certainly no less susceptible to pre-show nerves.

Though they were standing next to each other behind the red curtain that led out to the cloudiseum, she hadn't said a word to Ditzy since they had entered, nor had she spoken to her. What could you say to your best friend who was, however temporarily, your greatest rival? Someone you trained with so intensely, helped along for over a year, but now had to leave in the dust? She couldn't think of anything, and so they sat in an awkward silence. Spitfire finally broke the ice, if to do no more than try and calm Ditzy down.

"Hey, Ditz?"

"Yeah?"

"Look, no matter what happens I just… I just wanted to say thanks. Y'know, for helping me out and everything?"

She chuckled weakly. "That's… that's what I was gonna say to you. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Me neither."

They shared a brief hug, patting each other on the back. The moment of calm was shattered by the shrill call of the event coordinator.

"Numba seven, let's go!"

They broke apart and Ditzy resumed her hoof-tapping. When she spoke again, her voice was shaky. "Hey, you remember that double-loop? Cause I've been thinking that maybe it doesn't really fit—and I haven't really done—"

She tried to make her voice sound soothing and assured. "Ditzy, it's fine. We went over this a hundred times. I saw it; your routine is great. Just focus on the routine, do your best, and you'll do fine."

She nodded and took a couple deep breaths. She almost looked calm when the event coordinator shouted again.

"Number eight! C'mon, let's go!"

As Ditzy walked toward the curtain, Spitfire called out to her, her grin turning wicked. "Just don't be upset when your best isn't enough and I go home with the crown."

Ditzy looked back over her shoulder, returning her grin. "Maybe if you're nice, I'll let you touch my crown before I spend my day with the Wonderbolts."

"Is that so? Well, maybe I'll let you rub the blue ribbon. Just so you can remember what they feel like."

Ditzy turned her head back around as she broke through the curtain into the cloudiseum, disappearing behind it to the tumultuous sound of cheers from the crowd beyond.

She kept staring at the place where she had vanished. "You go ahead and give it your best, Ditz," she whispered, "cause my best is gonna be better."

A short time later, the two pegasi were sitting together watching number fifteen finish his performance and quickly dart out of cloudiseum flight area. They looked at each other, Spitfire shaking her head to which Ditzy nodded slowly.

"Yeah… he started off good, but it kind of deteriorated. "

"He was just too nervous. You could see it. After he messed up the first time, during the tight spins, he fell apart."

"I feel bad for him. Poor guy held at the mercy of his nerves."

"Well, it's not like we weren't nervous. I'm always nervous before a performance but I never let it show. Otherwise... well, stuff like that happens."

Ditzy nodded toward the six Wonderbolts judges, who had just flown behind the curtain and into the now vacant backstage. "So now they vote on the winners, right?"

"Yeah. It usually doesn't take very long. If the last guy was pretty good it usually takes longer, but I don't think that'll be a problem this time."

It took a scant five minutes for the judges to reemerge and assemble behind the award stand that had been brought in during their absence, the most senior Wonderbolt handing a scrap of paper to the announcer before joining his fellows. Ditzy noticed for the first time that Cloudblazer was not among the Wonderbolts assembled.

"Hey, Spitz, where's your mom? I thought I saw her here…"

She gave her a condescending eye. "Duh! They aren't going to let her judge if I'm competing. She's over in the VIP seating."

"Oh, right, so she's just here for the day out with the winner."

The announcer's voice boomed over the roar of the crowd. "Fillies and gentlecolts, without further ado: the placing pegasi!"

"In third place, number five: Starlight!"

The periwinkle pegasus shot out of the crowd to take his place on the third place stand, smiling and waving as he received his ribbon.

"In second place, number thirteen: Spitfire!"

She flew toward the stand quickly, her face sporting a smile as wide as Starlight's before her. But for all the excitement and pride she felt, there was a small sense of disappointment. She hadn't made it. She'd lost.

Again.

She tried to focus on the positive. At least she'd placed this time, even if she wasn't taking home the crown. She could only hope that Ditzy would get first. She could stand losing to Ditzy.

"And in first place, this year's Best Young Flier…number eight! DITZY DOO!"

Ditzy gave a rather undignified squeal and flew out to take her rightful place on the award stand. She was handed a blue ribbon and crowned by the senior Wonderbolt. The crowd cheered, none more loudly than her father, though his whistles and stomps were lost in the din of the pegasi surrounding him.

As she began to wave at the adoring crowd, it was not to her father nor the Wonderbolts that Ditzy looked, but over at Spitfire. As the Wonderbolts began surrounding and congratulating her, she gave her a small nod and a smile. A short, private smile before the beaming grin returned. Spitfire nodded back and managed to return a small smile of her own.

She started chuckling as Ditzy flew off with the Wonderbolts, who she was chatting up amiably. "Next time, Ditzy Doo," she whispered. "Next time."

"Wait—wait—wait—wait—wait." Rainbow Dash interrupted Spitfire's recollection, frowning. "You guys vote for Best Young Flier? There's a second place?"

She chuckled. "Well, usually. We were obviously incapable of doing so while unconscious; Princess Celestia had to name a winner herself. You were clearly first, from what I've heard, so it wasn't too big of a deal. Second and third place would have been a bit harder to judge, so there was only first place."

"...Oh."

She returned to the album. "Every year after that first year, Best Young Flier was really two separate competitions: me and Ditz for first, and everypony else for third."

She flipped through a number of pages quickly, and Ditzy was proud to see a few more red ribbons amongst the blue. Though Spitfire didn't speak of the other competitions as she turned the pages, the memories were flowing back to her more easily. She half-remembered Spitfire earning those red ribbons whenever she had won a blue one. She really had been as good as Spitfire.

Rainbow's frown had not disappeared. "Those reporters..." She shrank back a bit as Spitfire glared at her; apparently, it was still a sore subject. She hurriedly explained herself. "Those reporters said you guys flew together. You don't do that in Best Young Flier..."

"You do when they're running a little late. It isn't common, but it isn't exactly rare." She smiled fondly. "That was when it first hit us, when we knew for sure what we were gonna do. It was my last year competing for Best Young Flier..."

She turned the page and Rainbow gasped at what lay beneath the protective sleeve.

Part 6: The Amazing Ditzy Doo

Spitfire stood waiting with Ditzy in the cloudesium’s mostly vacant backstage, staring pointedly at competitor number twelve as the event coordinator called for him for a third time. She leaned over to whisper in Ditzy’s ear. “By Celestia, what is taking him so long?”

Ditzy whispered back, the colt in question only a few short steps away, trembling his way toward the curtain. “He’s got the jitters, and bad. I heard he almost threw up in the bathroom a couple minutes ago.”

The yellow colt took a deep breath, put on a shaky smile, and rushed out into the cloudiseum. Number thirteen sighed and shook his head as he walked over to the curtain to wait.

Spitfire stared at the curtain incredulously. “I never get ponies like that. If you’re that nervous before you go out there, it’ll only get worse when you actually are out there.”

“I think it’s his first time. At least, I don’t remember seeing him last year.”

“Well, that’d explain it.” She chuckled. “I remember I was like that my first time.” She poked at Ditzy with a hoof. “You were like that, too, except way worse than me: all worried over your routine and tapping your hooves.”

She hit back, grinning. “Oh, I wasn’t that bad. I mean, I was nervous, sure. But I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh yeah, right. You were almost crying.”

“I was not! Shut up!” Ditzy pounced at her. She sidestepped, skirting away as Ditzy chased after her. Number thirteen began to watch their antics with an amused expression, until they got a bit too close. He jumped back suddenly to avoid the path of the two dervishes and they froze as he nearly stumbled out into the cloudesium. The three pegasi held their breath as the light blue pony carefully stepped away from the curtain, prompting a collective sigh of relief.

He rounded on Spitfire with a frown that the twinkle in his eyes betrayed. “You almost got me in trouble there, Spitfire. Again. And here I thought you’d grown beyond such juvenile displays.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. He said it with such a straight face. “Oh, lay off, Soarin. A few birds on a racetrack never hurt anypony.”

He smiled. “‘A few?’ There were almost thirty of them, and it was during practice. The Speedsters were pissed at you.”

She smiled back. “Well, they just don’t appreciate my training methods. Besides, you seemed pretty supportive when you were helping me catch them.”

“Numba thirteen, let’s go!”

Soarin jumped as the event coordinator shouted from right behind him, then scowled at the two mares, whose faces were pictures of innocence. “You saw her standing there, didn’t you?”

Spitfire felt the corners of her lips waver as she tried not to crack up. “Maayyyybe...”

“C’mon, thirteen, hurry up!”

He disappeared through the curtain and they looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes. They broke out laughing at the same time.

“He jumped, like, a foot!”

“Ha! Poor sap. Hope he isn’t too disappointed when he has to take home third. Again.”

Spitfire’s laughter petered out, and her face grew more solemn. “I sure hope he does. He did well last year: he’s a really good flier. He’s fast, always on the ball, and he does some nice cloudwork.”

“Sounds like somepony has a cruuush...”

“Oh, I do not!” It was her turn to pounce at Ditzy.

They roughhoused a bit, Ditzy finally admitting defeat after failing to ward her off. They were still catching their breath and giggling when the event coordinator returned. They separated, picking themselves off the floor and blushing furiously.

“Listen you two, we’re running late. We’ve only got time time for one more performance, so you’ll both have to go on together.”

She turned to Ditzy, wide-eyed. “Well, we—”

“I guess we—”

Ditzy stopped, waiting for her to speak.

“...We can use your music, Ditz. I don’t mind.”

The event coordinator left and they took up positions behind the curtain.

“And now, for the final performance, contestant number fourteen...” At the announcement, Spitfire dashed out from behind the curtain, shooting up to her starting position and flashing a showy smile at the cheering throng. Though he never announced her name, the crowd knew who she was, and they cheered for her more loudly than any of the others.

They loved her, and she reveled in it.

“...and contestant number fifteen!” The cheers redoubled as Ditzy came out, waving madly and beaming as she flew up to her.

“Try not to crash into me, okay?” She grinned and took off toward her own starting position before Spitfire had a chance to retort.

The music started and they took off, Spitfire shooting through a section of high-speed column zig-zags and into a series of tight loops. As she accelerated to form a sonic cone, she heard a brief surge in the crowd and stole a glance at Ditzy, who was finishing her ring section and starting a slalom series. Spitfire wobbled, and nearly lost her cone. She refocused on her own flying, berating herself for getting distracted.

She broke the sound barrier and made a quick series of quick turns and vertical shifts, shooting back and forth through a series of cloud rings without bothering to slow down. She held her speed as she angled past two small clouds, catching them in her wake and dragging them along on either side of her in a series of rolls and twists. She ended her supersonic flight with a half-loop and dive that was so fast it sucked in the two clouds, which collided and fractured into tiny puffs. She continued her dive toward the cloudface, flaring out at the last possible second and landing with a resounding slam.

The crowd went wild, and their cheers rose further still as Ditzy landed moments later. It was a veritable cacophony; she was afraid the stomping pegasi would crack the dense cloudesium seats. The announcer sat stunned, and even a few of the Wonderbolts appeared at a similar loss for words. As she stood waving and listening to the crowd with Ditzy smiling giddily next to her, everything seemed to click into place. Everything was as it should be: her, a victorious stunt flier, her best friend beside her, and all around them an adoring crowd which had never cheered louder. It was a perfect moment, and she finally managed to see why; she’d performed brilliantly, sure, but the crowd wasn’t cheering so loudly for her.

It was for the both of them, when they flew together, that they roared. In that moment, she knew that flying with Ditzy was exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She turned to look at Ditzy, and saw a similar elation in her eyes. Spitfire took a step toward her, a step Ditzy mirrored. They stood next to each other and, as one, raised their hooves in triumph, holding their new victory pose for a few seconds before they were cleared off the cloudface and the Wonderbolts went backstage to vote.

They made their way to their seats in the crowd and just sat silently for a time, coming down off of the rush and excitement. Spitfire finally broke the silence. “That was... amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that, in all my time flying. It just felt so...”

“Right.” Ditzy didn’t turn when she spoke and still looked slightly out of it, staring vacantly out at the cloudesieum. “It just felt right, like that’s what I was born to do. Was fly with—” she gave a faint gasp and shook herself out of her daze, blushing slightly. She was pointedly avoiding Spitfire’s gaze.

“No, I felt it too. Maybe we were meant to fly together, not just help each other out. We just never had the chance before now.”

Ditzy shook her head. “It’s a shame that this is your last competition then, isn’t it? We’ll never get the chance again.”

Spitfire frowned. “Way to ruin the mood, Ditzy. What about when we’re Wonderbolts? We’ll fly together then, won’t we? In fact...” she looked around, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Why wait that long?”

Ditzy looked around in confusion, then whispered back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I—”

"Fillies and gentlecolts, without further ado: the placing pegasi!" The announcer cut her off and she turned away from Ditzy, cheering along with the rest of the crowd.

“In third place, number thirteen: Soarin!”

Soarin shot out of the crowd, taking his place on the stand and shooting a acquiescentlook over at her and Ditzy. She couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and raised her voice to speak to Ditzy over the crowd. “At least he’s taking it well!”

She shouted back with a grin. “Well, he should! He’s had plenty of practice at getting third place!”

“In second place, number fifteen: Ditzy Doo!”

Ditzy smiled, flying out slowly to land nonchalantly on the stand, accepting her red ribbon with dignity. She turned and gave Spitfire a small bow, holding a hoof out invitingly toward the vacant first place spot.

“And in first place: number fourteen! SPITFIRE!”

The crowd erupted once more as she flew forward and took her rightful place on the stand. Though it was supposed to be her grand finale, she had felt surprisingly calm the whole time. Though it was her last time, she didn’t really care too much if she ended with first or second place. It seemed almost anticlimactic compared to her electric moment on the cloudface. She smiled and waved lazily, stealing glances at Ditzy out of the corner of her eye. She wouldn’t have cared if they gave her second place, or even fifth place again. She’d found a prize greater than even the victor’s crown.

The next day, Spitfire waited nervously for her mother to get home. She was pretty sure her mom would go for it.

Pretty sure.

Maybe.

Probably.

She jumped a bit as the door opened and broke her train of thought.

“Hey, Firecracker.” Cloudblazer took a good look at Spitfire’s face, then gave her daughter her full attention. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, mom. How are you?”

“Stop dodging. What’s going on?” She fixed Spitfire with a firm stare that brooked no nonsense.

She sighed. Well, no sense in beating about the bush. “I... need some bits. Well, more than some. A pretty large number of bits, actually. I’ll pay you back,” she added hastily, “just as soon as—”

“Does this have anything to do with the rather sudden plan to leave the weather factory you mentioned yesterday?”

“Kinda, yeah.” She gave a nervous smile that melted under her mother’s stare. “Look, I’m sorry if you don’t approve, but—”

“Hold on, now, I never said I didn’t approve.” Her face grew thoughtful, but she continued to stare at Spitfire intently. “You’ve talked it over with Ditzy?”

“Yeah, and she seemed to like the idea. She’s going to put in some of her own money as soon as she can get it together.”

“And you have everything planned out?”

“Well, a rough timetable. We’re going to meet up tomorrow and start to hammer things out.”

“Hmm. Well, I know how futile it is to try and stop you once you get your heart set on something.” She finally smiled. “I think it’s great. I’d be happy to lend you some money.” She walked over to Spitfire and gave her a loose hug. “Let’s be honest, dear: I’m not going to be a Wonderbolt forever. Everypony knows you’re a shoo-in for the team, and this could only help you out in that regard.”

She let go of Spitfire and left the room, returning a short time later with a bag of bits in her mouth, which she plopped down on the table. “This,” she said, pointing a hoof at the bag, “is a holdover, so you have money to eat. Once you and Ditzy make a more detailed plan, I’ll get you a larger loan.” She laid her hoof on Spitfire’s when she tried to reach for the bag. “I have one condition.”

Spitfire gulped, feeling a small lump form in her throat. “What?”

Cloudblazer grinned. “Your first show can’t be on one of my performance dates. And I expect to be given a front row seat.”

Spitfire sat at the café, poking at a sandwich and idly tapping the table with a hoof. She turned to look at the café’s clock, then returned to her tapping with an irritated sigh. Ditzy wasn’t just late, she was nearly half an hour late. While she wasn’t always precisely on time, she’d never kept Spitfire waiting this long before. Spitfire was starting to consider leaving when the door opened and Ditzy walked in, sliding quietly onto the seat across from her.

Spitfire couldn’t quite manage to keep the resentment out of her voice. “There you are. I was beginning to think you’d...” She finally noticed the redness around Ditzy’s eyes and her irritation was forgotten. “What happened? Is everything all right?”

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

She gave Ditzy a disbelieving look. “What happened, Ditzy?”

Ditzy gave a tired sigh, then smiled disarmingly. “Really, I’m okay. It’s just... Dad was, well, less than thrilled at first. I think I hurt his feelings a bit; he was so happy that I’d followed him into the mail business, and us working at the post office together meant a lot to him. He said I shouldn’t give up a good, steady job to go on an ‘irresponsible joy-flight.’ So I got mad, said I could be something better than a boring old mailmare. After that, we got in a fight and I just... left. Walked out.”

Spitfire certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “Oh, Ditz, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he'd take it so hard.” Mr. Doo was one of the nicest, funniest, good-natured stallions she knew. She couldn’t even remember a time when she’d seen him angry.

“He was just upset. It’s understandable; I doubt I was as tactful as I coul—should have been. He came to see me this morning, apologizing for yelling at me and stuff. He said if I thought it was right, and if I had a shot, I should go for it.” She chuckled slightly. “Said for that many bits, I’d darn well better succeed.” She shook her head, then reached out and grabbed Spitfire’s plate, pulling it back over toward her. She took a bite out of the uneaten half of her sandwich, waving her other hoof placatingly. “Anyway, I got my share. How’d things go with your mom?”

Spitfire was silent for a moment, contemplating how to tell Ditzy just how surprisingly easy her experience had been in comparison. “Uh—well, it was... kinda similar...”

Nine months. Nine months of constant training, drilling, synchronization, poster printing, finding a staff, drumming up the pubic, and begging for a venue, but they’d made it. On the other side of the curtain were over two hundred cheering ponies seated in the stands, all waiting to see them. No judging, no contestants, no short routines, and no ‘one at a time’: just her and Ditzy. Spitfire grinned. Her and Ditz were more than enough.

Ditzy stood off on the far side of the backstage area, twitching slightly and muttering to herself as she quietly went through the routine again.

Opposite her, the announcer opened the side door and poked his head in, making two small circles with a hoof.

Two minutes. Spitfire nodded at him and he disappeared. Ditzy, still engrossed in her recital, had missed the exchange. Spitfire snuck up behind her and got as close as she could before she spoke. “Hey. Two minutes.” She was pleased to see her friend jump slightly. “You ready?”

“You know it.” She flared out her wings and gave them a couple of rapid, energetic flaps. “Let’s go.”

They walked over to the edge of the curtain. Ditzy, who would go out first, crouched down in a jump position.

Spitfire started to speak, then shut her mouth again, shaking her head. A couple seconds later she finally spoke up. “Hey, Ditz?”

Ditzy stayed in the jump position, only her mouth moving in response to the inquiry. “Yeah?”

“...What if they don’t like it?”

She did turn at that, looking slightly puzzled. “They’ll like it. C’mon, Spitz, they wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think they’d like it.” She flashed a comforting, though somewhat mischievous, smile. “Don’t tell me you’re actually getting nervous for once?”

Spitfire smiled back, put a bit more at ease by her friend’s confidence. “You wish, hoof-tapper. Just don’t mess this up.”

The announcer’s amplified voice cut her off from the other side of the curtain. “Fillies and gentlecolts! Today, making their big debut, I present to you: the multi-Best Young Flier Champions turned stunt-flying duo. Give it all up for those two outstanding pegasi: The Amazing Ditzy Doo and Spitfire!”

The curtain pulled back and Ditzy shot into the air, spinning more rapidly and turning in tighter and tighter circles as she went. Spitfire smiled. The inverse tornado was one of their harder stunts, and she knew Ditzy was gritting her teeth as she fought the downward pull. Her own job was easy; as Ditzy was close to forming the point of the funnel, she flew straight up, still on the inside of twister. She sped up as she climbed higher and reached Ditzy just as she finished the point, shattering the cyclone as the two pegasi broke off in opposite directions.

They turned back around and flew straight at each other, going faster and faster until they seemed certain to collide. They broke and crossed each other’s path at the last second, locking forelegs in midair and starting to spin violently. She winced; she was always afraid she’d get the timing wrong and end up dislocating one of Ditzy’s legs. But she seemed fine and they broke apart cleanly, her shooting straight up, with Ditzy diving straight down.

She turned over her wing and shot down to where Ditzy was waiting, turning out of her dive to angle toward a ring course. Ditzy started to orbit her rapidly and kept orbiting as they went through the course of rings just barely wide enough for the both of them. Harder still were the rings split in two down the middle, but she hit them perfectly, without changing the speed of her spin. As Spitfire cleared the last ring, she accelerated and started a sonic cone. Ditzy’s orbit started spinning slower and slower as she put more effort into matching her speed. Finally, they were shooting straight up side by side as they broke into twin sonic booms. They went up for a while before they slowed to a stop and started to drift back down toward the ground.

They both started orbiting each other then, slowly at first but accelerating rapidly until they made a pair of conjoined tornadoes. It was her turn to grit her teeth as she fought the pull from Ditzy’s twister. They separated as they reached the bottom of their funnels, stopping suddenly to land next to each other on a precisely positioned cloud platform.

Spitfire felt a knot in her stomach as she stood staring at the silent crowd. They didn’t like it. She knew it. What had she done wrong? Everything had gone perfectly... hadn’t it?

Her anxiety dissolved as the crowd started cheering. She posed, flashing a brilliant smile at the crowd, and gave a few short waves. Once she’d let the crowd rev itself up a bit she trotted to the edge of the cloud, in perfect step with Ditzy, to continue the show. She knew they’d love it.

Spitfire paused as Rainbow slowly reached out and ran a halting hoof over the poster, stopping when she reached the title. “The Amazing... Ditzy... Doo,” she whispered incredulously. “All this time, and I never knew...” She ended up staring at Ditzy, her expression drifting between pity and awe.

Ditzy’s hoof shook slightly as she stared at the stylized image of her in a banking dive just beneath the “DOO” in the poster’s title; “THE AMAZING DITZY DOO AND SPITFIRE” in a fancy, gold type, identical to the embossment on the book’s cover, with the two of them swooping in dramatically. At the bottom,“Eight bit cover, half charge for foals.”

Her headache was gone, but she started to feel ill. Her old life, spurred by the recovered memories, was starting to feel more and more normal, while her current situation felt less and less comfortable.

Spitfire smiled at Rainbow. “I’m not surprised. That’s why we picked Ponyville, after all. We toured cities most of the time, so nopony out here knew her.” She shrugged. “Most rural areas tend to favor rodeos over stunt flying.”

“But—but how come I’d never even heard of...”

“Well, we started out rather small, and we never really had time to grow into anything big.” She flipped a few pages, showing other posters and advertisements for their show with the occasional picture with a fan beside them. Almost all of the shows were in small venues. “We only had four—well, threeish—short seasons of performing whenever and wherever we could get a good place.”

Rainbow turned to look at her, puzzled. “Why ‘threeish?’”

Spitfire opened her mouth, looking uncomfortably at Ditzy.

But Ditzy already knew the answer. “Dad.” This memory was different from the others. This one was a painful memory, a sad memory. Uncaring, her mind filled with indistinct images; black suits, crying ponies, her giving a speech. A casket. Ditzy frowned, shaking her head slowly and squeezing her eyes shut as they started to tear up a bit. “It was a... a... something...”

“A robbery.” Spitfire spoke softly, reaching out to pat her shoulder gently. “He was leaving the show to head for a hotel. Some pony in the crowd saw him coming out of the VIP seats and thought he was a rich target. Your dad fought back, there was a knife, and... I’m sorry, Ditz.”

She nodded solemnly, gently removing Spitfire’s hoof. “It’s okay. I guess I always knew my father wasn’t here, I just didn’t, well, know, I guess.” She frowned. There was something off about what Spitz had said.“That wasn’t why we stopped, though, was it? There was something else...”

Spitfire smiled and gave a short laugh. “Yeah. Just when we were about to get our big break, something else came up. But it eliminated any real chance of starting back up again.” She turned a page, wherein lay a picture of Spitfire, another Wonderbolt and her mom. Below the picture was a letter headed with a winged lightning bolt.

“Dear Ms. Spitfire,

Due to Cloudblazer’s recently announced retirement, you are invited to compete against other aspirants for a position on the Wonderbolts Precision Flight Team in front of a paying audience at the Wonderbolts’ aerodrome...”

The crowd died down as Razorwind waved them to silence. Spitfire stood behind him with the other contestants, holding her breath. She was both anxiously awaiting and dreading his announcement. Normally, when she felt nervous, she’d make a crack at Ditzy or see if she needed some support herself. But Ditzy wasn’t here. She hadn’t been the same after Mr. Doo died; Spitfire had barely seen her since the funeral months ago. She kept herself hermited away and only rarely bothered to answer the door when Spitfire went over to try and talk to her. She shook her head slowly. It wasn’t how she’d pictured things going at all.

Razorwind regained her attention as he started to speak. “After proper deliberation and careful examination of the scores awarded for both the standard course and the free-flight competitions, we have chosen, from among these twenty select fliers, the next Wonderbolt.” He turned to walk solemnly in front of the contestants, coming to a halt in front of her. “Ms. Spitfire.”

The crowd erupted and she almost gasped in relief before she could stop herself. Something must have shown on her face, though, as Razorwind sported an amused smile as he leaned in to shake her hoof. “Congratulations, Ms. Spitfire.” He turned, taking a blue suit and goggles from her mom, who was smiling fit to burst. He held them out in front of her. “Welcome to the Wonderbolts.”

Shaking, she reached out to take the uniform. The others contestants, who had been applauding politely, parted as the three made their way inside. Once out of sight of the public, Spitfire ran ahead of the other two, rushing to the locker rooms. She rapidly donned her new suit and stood staring in the mirror, grinning madly and shifting poses rapidly. It felt too good to be true. Her mom and Razorwing entered along with the other Wonderbolts. They started applauding her, slapping her on the back and calling out congratulations to the “Rookie.”

As the greetings wore on, her smile started to slip, and she stopped replying so readily to her new teammate’s congratulations. Her mother eyed her carefully, then raised her voice to speak over the other Wonderbolts. “All right, guys, best get out and face the cameras. I’ll prep her and we’ll follow you down in a second.” They shuffled out, still laughing, leaving the two of them alone. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “It isn’t right. Ditzy should have been here. She should be the one wearing this.” She ran a slow hoof over her uniformed foreleg. “I wouldn’t have won if she’d been competing.”

Her mother frowned. “Now, I don’t think that’s true. You shouldn’t belittle your own talents, dear; you’re a very skilled flier. Don’t think you didn’t earn this.” Spitfire didn’t respond, and she went on hesitantly. “We sent her an invitation, too, you know. She never wrote back.”

Spitfire nodded. Of course she wouldn’t have; if she didn’t even go outside, she probably wouldn’t care too much about writing letters. “I just...” Her voice grew raspy. “I just thought she’d be here, at least. I always thought she’d at least show up...”

Her mom smiled and leaned around her, looking past her pointedly.

Spitfire whirled, and there she was, coming out from behind a tall row of lockers. “Ditzy.” Her eyes went wide. “But how?”

Cloudblazer chuckled. “Just because I’m retiring doesn’t mean I can’t get a pony backstage. I’ll give you two a moment.” She walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

They were left in an awkward silence, before Ditzy finally kicked a hoof guilty. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I, uh,” Ditzy cleared her throat. “I saw your competition. The others weren’t even close, were they?”

“No, not really.”

The silence returned before Spitfire decided to head straight for the heart of the issue. “I thought you hadn’t come.”

“No, I came, I just... I wasn’t ready to fly a routine, so soon after...” Her eyes started to tear up. “I just couldn’t.”

Spitfire’s breath caught. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” It would be an unthinkable waste of her talent if she swore off stunt flying.

She sighed wearily. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I can go back to ‘The Amazing Ditzy Doo and Spitfire,’ what with you being a Wonderbolt and all, and touring alone doesn’t really appeal to me. Heck, we were hard pressed for shows when we were together; I doubt I’d get much on my own. Maybe I’ll just go back to being a mailmare.”

“NO!” Her intensity shocked Ditzy, who took an involuntary step back. She quickly brought her voice back down. “I mean, I know what happened was horrible, but you CAN’T just give up on everything! You wanted to be a Wonderbolt just as much as I did. Maybe even more!” She walked over and put her hooves on Ditzy’s shoulders, staring into her eyes as if to drive home the importance of plea. “You’re good, Ditz, gifted even. How many other pegasi can say that? How many other ponies can say that? Don’t let this one tragedy stop you.” She hesitated, but pressed on. “I—don’t you think he would have wanted you to try?”

Ditzy nodded shakily. “Y-yeah, he...” She broke down and started crying. Spitfire held her, patting her back and comforting her as her tears made damp streaks on her new uniform. The whole time, Spitfire tried to think of what it would be like if their positions were reversed: if her mom had died and Ditzy was the Wonderbolt. As Ditzy started to peter out, she dismissed the thought. She knew Ditzy would have done the same for her.

Ditzy pulled away, still a bit teary, but looking much more steady. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She coughed, then motioned her away with a hoof. “You’d better get down there. You’ve probably got whole mobs of ponies waiting for your autograph.”

“You sure?”

She repeated her shooing motion. “Yeah. I’ll be all right.”

Spitfire nodded and walked over toward the door, but stopped in the doorway after she opened it. “Hey, Ditz?”

Ditzy paused in her eye drying. “Yeah?”

“We’re going to fly together again. I’m gonna see you get that blue suit.”

She smiled, and the old Ditzy was back. “Count on it.”

Spitfire went through the door and made her way outside, where the other Wonderbolts were waiting. Hundreds of flash bulbs burst and the tumultuous din of reporters assaulted her senses.

Spitfire turned the page to a picture of her and Ditzy side-by-side, both smiling, Spitfire clad in her suit and goggles. “That was just after my first show.” She shook her head sadly. “As happy as I was, my joining the Wonderbolts strained our friendship pretty badly. You tried to deny it, Ditz, but I could tell it was a sore spot for you. How couldn’t it be? I went on to premier stunt flying, while you... well, you eventually ended up working back in the post office again to pay the bills. We had less and less time to spend together and we started to drift apart a bit.”

She flipped rapidly through a sparse selection of photographs and Wonderbolt performance programs from her various shows. She stopped at another picture of her and Ditzy, wherein Ditzy was holding up a rather familiar letter to the camera. “But then, three years later, you got your chance. We’d thought it would take at least six years before the next guy would retire. But then Razorwind’s wife got sick, and... anyway, we were sure you had it in the bag. You’d kept practicing, kept yourself in form. The uniform was all but yours. Or, so we thought.”

Before Ditzy could ask, Rainbow beat her to it. “So... what happened?”

Spitfire’s face twisted into a snarl and she bit the words out with a palpable vehemence. “Slate. Hooves.”

Outside a Manehattan apartment complex, the dark grey unicorn waited impatiently for the incompetent taxi pony to load his bags. Finally, he managed to accomplish the simple task of settling his luggage in the back of a cab and hitched himself up to the front. “Where to, Mister...”

“Hooves. Ponyville, and quickly please.”

The cab puller snorted as he started off. “You ain’t another one of them reporters, are ya? If ya are, you’re a bit late. Had a whole mess of them headed off for Ponyville all yesterday. Not too many this morning, what on account of the rain and all, but still—”

By Celestia, what an irritating plebeian. He cut off the earth pony, less to answer his questions than to keep him from continuing to speak. “No, I’m not a reporter.” Unseen by the taxi pony, his face shone with a malicious grin as he turned to look covetously at his suitcase. “I’m going to meet an old friend...”

Part 7: The Fall

Ditzy finished the preliminary course and hurriedly made her way out of the performance area. Shortly after, Razorwind announced her scores and stated there would an intermission while they prepared for the free-flight section. Ditzy groaned, clutching her stomach and trying to hold onto her lunch. She’d been feeling ill all week. She knew she should have gone to the clinic, tried to take things easy, but there was no way she was going to miss her Wonderbolts tryout. Not again.

So she had to suck it up and stick it out. She winced, clutching at her stomach. If she could. She was so preoccupied with her upset stomach she didn’t notice Spitfire until she was right in front of her.

She didn’t look pleased. “What the heck was that, Ditz?”

Ditzy stifled a groan and her forelegs shot back down. “What? I’m leading, aren’t I? I’m still top ranked!”

Her eyes flashed, and she matched Ditzy’s elevated tone. “Maybe, but not by much! Soarin’s right behind you, and Dart isn’t too far behind him. C’mon, Ditz, I know you can do better than this! If you don’t step it up during the free-flight—”

Ditzy snarled. “You don’t have to remind me what’s at stake here!” She stared defiantly at Spitfire, who recoiled, then sighed, hanging her head. “I’m sorry, Spitz. I guess I’m more nervous than I thought.”

Spitfire nodded slowly. “I understand. Believe me, I do. But you know you can’t let it mess you up. Not here, not now.”

She gave Spitfire a confident smile, only slightly marred as she forced down another wave of nausea. “Don’t you worry about the free-flight. I’ve got something planned; it’s gonna blow them all away.”

Spitfire smiled back. “Never doubted it.” She gave Ditzy a clap on the shoulder. “Go get that blue suit.” She turned and flew off, heading for the Wonderbolts’ viewing platform.

As soon as her friend’s back was to her, Ditzy let out a sharp breath, which turned to a groan. She whirled and began to trot briskly toward the restrooms.

As the free-flight section drew near, Spitfire excused herself from the other Wonderbolts. She was about to take off when Rapidfire stepped in front of her.

“Hey, Spitfire! Seems your friend didn’t perform quite as well as you’d said she would. I seem to remember something about ‘dominating’ the event?” He chuckled. “You wanna pay up now, save me the trouble?”

She grinned at him and shook her head. Small bets on the competitors were commonplace among the team members, especially when there was a favorite. Since she wasn’t allowed to judge her friend, Spitfire had taken bets on Ditzy to show the others her opinion on Ditzy’s skills. “She’s still winning, isn’t she? You should wait till it’s over before you try to claim a victory. Or didn’t you learn that lesson during the last derby?”

He smirked. “Well, I must admit, I’m rather curious. You see, your friend requested a cloud be brought in for her routine.”

Spitfire frowned, but her response was cut off as Razorwind called for the crowd to retake their seats.

“Best be off, Spitfire! I doubt either of us will want to miss this.” He shooed Spitfire away with a lazy wave of his hoof.

Spitfire took off, heading for the VIP box. “What are you doing, Ditz?” she mumbled to herself. The Wonderbolts weren’t big on cloud manipulation; everypony knew that. What was she thinking?

Spitfire nodded politely to the security ponies as she landed and approached the box. They recognized her and quickly moved to open the doors for her. She hurried inside and took her seat in the front row. A few more ponies filed in, sitting as the first contestant took a ready position.

As the competitors went through their routines, Spitfire found herself shooting glances at the unicorn in the aisle seat next to her. He didn’t seem to notice, and continued to stare out disinterestedly into the aerodrome.

Of all the ponies in the box, she had to be seated next to Slate. They’d only met a couple of times since Ditzy had first introduced them, and Spitfire had not enjoyed his company. She found him to be a snobbish, elitist dilettante, always looking down on the “common ponies.” Though she was and always had been rather upper-class herself, she worked for a living, while he lived off a Hooves family trust fund. She had always tried to downplay being born into wealth, while he seemed to revel in it and rub it in everypony’s face.

She shook her head. What Ditzy saw in the stallion, she would never know. Maybe Ditzy herself didn’t either; she’d told Spitfire their relationship had grown a bit rocky as of late. She refocused on the performance area as Dart finished and Ditzy flew out. Shortly after, a cloud was brought out and left floating in front of the VIP box. The ponies in the box whispered to each other eagerly.

Ditzy perched on the starting platform and took off as the buzzer sounded. As she made her way through her routine, Spitfire could tell that it wasn’t quite enough. Sure, the ring set had been impressive and her precision work was very nice, but the others had been very good too, and Ditzy was still a bit off her game. “C’mon, Ditz,” she muttered, “whatever you’re gonna do, you’d better do it fast.”

Ditzy broke out of a double-loop and shot toward the waiting cloud. At first Spitfire thought she was going to try and spin it, until she flipped over her right wing and brought her wings so close to the cloud she swore they almost ran across the surface. As Ditzy sped up into a spherical orbit around the cloud, the crowd outside started to cheer. While the VIPs contented themselves with excited tittering, Spitfire couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh. Ditzy wasn’t cloudspinning: she was cloudshaving. By orbiting so close to the cloud at truly insane speeds, the cloud was forced into a smaller and smaller space and kept contained by her passes, giving the impression that her wings were “shaving” the cloud.

It was a horribly difficult maneuver, but Ditzy performed it perfectly and had managed to force the cloud into a space that was only a third of its original size. She knew her teammates across the aerodrome would be just as impressed.

It was then that she noticed a sort of gray blur around the cloud. At first she dismissed it as wisps of cloud escaping from the ball, which was now not much larger than a pony. But then she noticed a similar glow out of the corner of her eye, surrounding Slate’s horn. Where he had been apathetic for the others, he was focusing intently on Ditzy’s performance. Just as she began to realize nothing near him was glowing with the same grey aura of magic, she saw the ultra-dense cloud jerk downward and slam into Ditzy. The crowd gasped as she went limp and began to plummet toward the ground.

Spitfire turned back to Slate, only to find he had gotten up and was walking toward the exit. She began to move before she knew precisely what she was doing. She leapt out of her seat and started sprinting for the exit, body-checking Slate and slamming him into the wall. As she left the box, she didn’t even slow, shouting “Security! Don’t let Slate leave!” as she leapt over the rail and dove after Ditzy. She grimaced, pushing herself as hard as she could, but she knew she couldn’t catch up to Ditzy in time. Not only had she been driven downward by the force of the cloud, but she’d had too much of a head start, and wasn’t high enough off the ground. She strained futility, and was only four or five yards away when the ground broke her friend’s fall.

Ditzy hit face first, the left side of her head impacting with a sickening crack, and she was sent rolling violently across the ground with the snap of breaking bones. Spitfire landed next to her as Ditzy came to a stop. She was momentarily overwhelmed by the appalling scene, too stunned to move. Ditzy’s jaw was ruined. Her wing was badly dislocated, and the whole left side of her face was... Celestia, there was too much. There was so much blood. Shaking herself, she leaned in to listen to Ditzy’s chest. She was still breathing, but it sounded shallow, and her heartbeat was weak. Razorwind and Fleetfoot pulled out of their dives and landed nearby, looking at her anxiously.

She pulled away from Ditzy and nodded at them. “She’s alive! Just. Somepony get a doctor over here!”

Spitfire sat in the waiting room, staring blankly at the double-doors of the emergency care ward. Behind her, the din and flash of the press was kept outside by a squad of security ponies. She couldn’t get the image of the broken and bleeding Ditzy out of her head. All she could think about was how weak her pulse had been, how urgently the medical staff had taken her away.

I should have flown faster, she scolded herself. Or called for a doctor sooner, or—or maybe I shouldn’t have wasted time on Slate. She bit her lip. Please, please, don’t let her be dead.

She sat there, nearly motionless, for hours, sparing only a brief glance at the occasional doctor or nurse going in or out of the ward, returning to her somber anxiety as soon as she realized they didn’t have anything to tell her.

Eventually, a tawny brown unicorn in a doctor’s coat approached her. He spoke softly, with a slight Southern accent. “Ms. Spitfire? I—”

His address broke her out of her apprehensive musing. She shot out of her seat and barely kept herself from pouncing on him. “How’s she doing, Doc? Where is she? Can I see her?”

He held up a hoof. “Please, Ms. Spitfire, calm yourself.”

She quieted immediately.

He levitated a clipboard from one of his pockets and set it on a nearby table laden with aging magazines. “Now, Ms. Doo is out of the woods, Ms. Spitfire. She’s stable at the moment and we’ve just finished the facial reconstruction surgery. It was remarkably successful, given the damage.”

She felt the pressure in her chest leave as she let out a sigh of relief. She was alive. She’d pulled through. “Oh, thank Celestia. She made it.”

“Yes, but she very nearly did not, Ms. Spitfire. It was touch and go there for a bit.” He fixed her with a disapproving frown. “You should have informed us she was pregnant.”

She did a double-take at that, staring at him in disbelief. “Pregnant?” He nodded, still staring coldly. She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know. She didn’t tell me.”

He snorted. “You are listed as having medical power of attorney, Ms. Spitfire. You cannot simply ‘not know’ something like that. It is completely irresponsible. We very nearly gave her anesthetics that could have been quite harmful to the foal, especially as it looks to be less than two months old. Thankfully, we did not, and it appears to be healthy despite the surgeries.”

“Well, we haven’t been as close as we used to be, and... it doesn’t matter now! Where is she?”

He considered her for a moment, then turned toward the double-doors. “Come with me.” He took up the clipboard with his magic and started off.

She followed along beside him as they made their way deeper into the hospital, walking past beds with injured ponies. She silently wished he would walk faster.

He referenced his clipboard briefly as they walked. “Now, besides the sling support for her jaw, she’s been put in a body cast following surgical repair of numerous vertebral and rib fractures. Her left wing was dislocated at the wingjoint and broken at the ulna, near the upper part of the wing; it’s been reset and casted. We’ve attached pins to her left leg to reduce the broken tibia there. Then there’s the countless other lacerations and contusions all over her body; we’ve stitched up the worst of them and bandaged most of the rest. She’s on anti-inflammatories, blood production boosters and, of course, the appropriate anesthetics, as well as pre-natal steroids and vitamins for the foal. Despite some cranial bleeding and the heavy impact to her head, we have high hopes she will regain consciousness.”

He stopped in front of a room marked “Treatment 3.” “All in all, Ms. Spitfire, she is very lucky to be alive.” He gave her a sympathetic look as he used his magic to open the door for her. “Take as long as you need, just... try not to wake her.”

Her need to see Ditzy had twisted itself into trepidation over what lay inside. She shuffled forward and the door shut silently behind her. Her breath caught as she approached the bed. Ditzy was such a mess of tubes, wires and bandages it was difficult to see her coat in most places. They’d attached a respirator to her throat, as her jaw was held shut tight by a sling wrap. There were IV bags aplenty attached to her forelegs, and the whole side of her bed opposite the door was a mass of beeping and blinking machines.

Spitfire let out a ragged breath and reached out with a shaking hoof to rest it on Ditzy’s right foreleg, stroking it comfortingly. She felt herself starting to tear up. She wiped at her eyes with her other hoof. “I’m sorry, Ditz,” she whispered. “I’m so, so, sorry.” She laid her head on the gurney beside her broken friend and silently began to cry, shedding the tears she had never been able to shed for herself.

Spitfire stood behind Razorwind with the rest of the Wonderbolts as he approached the line of contestants that was now one pegasus short. Her eyes shot to the end of the line, where Ditzy would have stood. It had been two days since the accident, but Ditzy was still asleep. The doctor told her it was normal, that the body took time to recover from something like that. He hadn’t seemed as confident yesterday as he’d been the first time they’d met.

She shook her head slightly and brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Razorwind was just about finished with his speech. “Given the tragic circumstances which forced this retrial, we commend you for your perseverance and we must say that you have only shown us even better performances the second time around. So, after proper deliberation and careful examination of the scores awarded for both the standard course and the free-flight competitions, we have chosen, from among these twenty...” He lowered his head slightly, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he was not looking at the contestants, but staring at the empty slot just as Spitfire had been. He squared his shoulders and went on with the speech, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “These nineteenselect fliers, the next Wonderbolt.”

He walked down the line, as was customary, stopping about halfway down in front of a familiar white pony. “Mr. Soarin.” The crowd began to cheer, but Spitfire noticed a certain lack of volume to the applause. There was even a fair amount of booing and jeers; one small group even went so far as to chant “Ditzy Doo! Ditzy Doo!” as Razorwind presented Soarin with his uniform and shook his hoof. His smile slid briefly into a hurt look as he surveyed the crowd, but he turned from them quickly as Razorwind escorted him to the locker rooms.

Spitfire and the others congratulated the remaining competitors on their attempts, giving Soarin time to get suited up before they followed him inside. As she shook the hoof of a somewhat dejected periwinkle pony, she couldn’t help but feel for Soarin. She’d nearly burst with excitement after she’d made the team, but he knew he wouldn’t have won if Ditzy hadn’t been sabotaged. Despite his noteworthy improvements in the second set of trials, he was still the second choice, and he knew it.

The contestants dispersed and the Wonderbolts made their way inside. Though everypony tried to put their best face on their congratulations, their good cheer sounded strained to her. Soarin’s smile slipped every once in a while before he forced it back into place. Eventually, the complements petered out into an awkward silence. Razorwind cleared his throat and suggested they head down to make a press appearance. Everypony quickly agreed, and they hurriedly shuffled out of the locker room.

As they made their way down to the performer’s entrance, a security pony caught up to Spitfire, pulling a small piece of paper out of his belt pouch. She set it down, somewhat confused. As she read the rather short message, her eyes went wide. She pushed the piece of paper back over to the guard. “Tell Razorwind I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He nodded and she took off down a different hallway toward the service entrance.

Spitfire burst through the double-doors of the emergency ward despite the protests of the nurse behind her. She made a beeline for Treatment 3, where Ditzy’s doctor stood waiting. She slid to a halt just in front of him. “Is she still in here? Is she really awake?”

He was still a bit fazed by her sudden entrance, but quickly got ahold of himself. At first, she thought his head shake was directed at her, before she realized it was directed past her at pair of security ponies, who promptly turned and headed out of the ward. He looked back to her. “Yes, Ms. Spitfire, she’s awake, but I—”

She wasted no time, flinging open the door and charging in, despite an indignant “Ms. Spitfire!” from the doctor.

Ditzy turned, as much as she could in her various slings and casts, as Spitfire entered.

“Ditz!” She rushed to the side of the bed. “You’re finally awake! I came as soon as I heard. How are you feeling? Are they treating you...” She trailed off as she noticed Ditzy’s eyes, only one of which was focused on her; the other was shifting about wildly, only occasionally joining the other in looking at her. But more concerning was the fear and confusion in those eyes, and Ditzy’s slight shift as she tried to shy away from her. Her enthusiasm quickly melted away.“What’s wrong, Ditz? What...”

The doctor cleared his throat loudly. “Ms. Spitfire, I must insist that I speak with you. Outside.”

She nodded, giving Ditzy a last smile as she left the room. She quickly rounded on the doctor. “What’s going on, Doc? She was acting like—”

“If you would please let me speak, Ms. Spitfire?”

She froze at that, her face flushing red. “Sorry.”

He waited a bit, but she remained quiet. “Now then, as I was trying to tell you, she regained full consciousness just this morning, around seven o'clock. We haven’t been able to run as many tests as we’d like, but she appears to be suffering from amnesia. Whether that is a result of the physical trauma and resultant damage to the brain or a repression of memory, we don’t know. It could be both, or neither; we’ll simply have to wait and see if there’s any improvement.”

“But, Doc...” He frowned at her, and she hurriedly explained herself. “Isn’t there some kind of magic you can use, or something?”

He shook his head. “Memory spells can only target a general stretch of time; it is not specific or precise. Besides which, they cause the subject to completely re-experience the memory; if her mind has blocked it out, that would only further distress it. It is best to wait, and allow the injuries time to heal, give her brain time to cope with events.”

She sighed. “Okay. What about her eyes?”

He nodded gravely. “Yes, the strabismus. You’d call it wandering eye or walleye vision. It’s a result of the impact, though whether the result is from ocular damage or damage to the optic lobe, we don’t know. We believe it to be from brain damage as the initial impact was to the left side of her head and the left hemisphere controls the right eye, which is the eye affected, but the impacts from her roll were more than severe enough to cause the damage. We’ll need to do more tests.”

She frowned at him. “You don’t seem to be too sure about this stuff, Doc. What, exactly, do you know?”

His shout was unexpected. “I know she’s lucky to be awake at all! We don’t know how much she remembers because we can barely communicate with her: we’ve rebuilt almost her entire jaw and she’s just been taken off the respirator! I don’t know why she has strabismus because the damage was just too extensive to narrow down the cause!” He took a deep breath, and continued more calmly. “There is one thing I do know for sure, Ms. Spitfire. You... may want to sit down.”

She shook her head. “What is it?”

He sighed, but didn’t bother to insist. “When you brought her in, there was a significant amount of blood coming from one of her ears. We’ve done some examination, and... well, she’s suffered irreparable inner ear damage, specifically to the vestibular system, the system which controls balance and spatial orientation. The cochlea, which controls hearing, suffered less and we expect her to regain most of her hearing in time, but... I must impress upon you, Ms. Spitfire, that this is a flight-debilitating injury. It’s going to take significant physical therapy just to get her to walk in a straight line: the chances of her getting off the ground again are less than ten percent.”

Spitfire’s hind legs collapsed, and she didn’t even try to get back up. “She can’t fly?” she whispered. “But, Doc, flying is her life. Her special talent! Isn’t there something, anything...”

He shook his head morosely. “Once it suffers that kind of damage, there’s nothing we can do. She’ll be prone to vertigo and nausea just walking around; flying would likely worsen the symptoms to the point of pain. On a lesser note, the vestibular system also serves to stabilize her eyes. This will exacerbate her strabismus; she’s going to have trouble focusing on things, reading words.

“On the other hoof, her other injuries are healing nicely. The foal is still in perfect health. Barring any additional complications, we will try to start a limited therapy regimen within the week.” He smiled at her, but it didn’t really help.

“Thanks, Doc. Can I go back in now?”

He nodded. “Just... take things a bit slower, all right?”

She went back in with far less energy than her previous entrance. She was still in shock. She’d always thought, in the back of her mind, that Ditzy would be all right; she couldn’t accept that Ditzy was going to be a cripple for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t. Ditzy was a better flier than her, the best flier in Equestria even... but not anymore. She mentally kicked herself. Ditzy needed her help and support now, and Spitfire was still making her medical decisions; she couldn’t afford to ignore the facts simply because she didn’t like them.

She approached the bed at a more moderate pace, not quite managing to hide her pity as she smiled at the wary Ditzy. “Hello again. The doctor just told me what happened. Seems your memory’s a bit foggy.”

Ditzy nodded fractionally, giving a raspy grunt of approval.

She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to know the answer, but finally asked the question for the first time, a question that would eventually become a ritual for her. “Ditz... do you remember who I am?”

Spitfire turned the page, and the three of them sat silently for a time, absorbing everything that had been said. On the page lay a plethora of newspaper clippings, the largest of which read “TRAGEDY STRIKES WONDERBOLTS TRYOUT. Competitor Ditzy Doo in critical condition.”

Ditzy remembered most of it, but not getting hit by the cloud, not her fall to the ground. This memory hurt; it felt like a hundred pins were being poked into her head. It made her feel sick. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Ditzy! You were the greatest flier I’d ever known. Your biggest dream was to be a Wonderbolt, and you almost had it! Oh, by the way, you’ll never fly again. Good luck in life!’” She shook her head. “I mean, it was a miracle you were able to overcome the odds against you just getting airborne again. You didn’t know about how things were, and I... I just couldn’t see how it would help.” Spitfire looked at her pleadingly. “You seemed to be all right not knowing, and after Dinky was born... you just seemed so happy here, I didn’t want to ruin it. You’d earned some lasting happiness.”

The silence returned, until Rainbow Dash finally broke it. “What happened to Slate?”

Spitfire snorted as she pointed to the opposite page, which held only one clipping: “MEMBER OF ESTEEMED HOOVES FAMILY SENTENCED TO PRISON FOR PROVOKED ASSAULT! Christophe Hooves renounces Slate, vows ‘he shall never again be welcomed or supported by the Hooves family.’”

“He didn’t get half of what he deserved. He said you threatened to leave him, Ditz, and he used it as a basis for provoked assault. He said he was only trying to get some payback by ruining your performance and fouling up your cloudshaving. Said he never meant to hurt you.” She snorted again. “Lying snake. But he still had good lawyers. Fortunately, the Wonderbolts’ lawyers were pretty good, too. With me as a witness, he had to plead guilty to second degree assault. He’s doing time up in Canterlot prison. Good riddance, I say.”

Rainbow frowned. "So it wasn't an accident?"

Spitfire shook her head. "Officially, it was. But if you ask me... I think he meant to do it."

Ditzy remained silent for a time, but finally stood up. “I’m sorry, I... I need some time. I need to think about... I just need some time.” She turned from her friend and walked out of Rainbow’s cloud home, mulling over everything in her head, going through her newly found memories again and again. She took off, heading for home, but she remembered how flying used to be. She finally remembered.

Part 8: Reunion

Ditzy sat on the sofa in front of her fireplace, staring quietly into the dancing flames, lost in thought over yesterday’s long conversation with Spitfire. She’d barely slept; she’d kept running through the memories in her mind all night, striving to fill in the missing pieces and recall all the little details. Dinky lay on the floor in front of her, drawing a picture of what looked to be her with her new Crusader friends. Every once in a while she dropped her crayon and turned to stare wistfully out the window at the rainstorm which trapped her inside.

While her daughter may not have liked the rain, Ditzy saw it as a blessing, as it also served to keep most of the reporters away. Those few that had risked braving the storm quickly gave up and left once they realized Ditzy was adamant about refusing them entry and wholly unsympathetic to the conditions outside. As dusk fell and the temperature really started to drop, they finally stopped coming altogether.

Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness that had settled over her. She ran a slow hoof over her face for what must have been the hundredth time, marveling at how different it felt from the face she now remembered. She stopped as she realized just what she was doing and brought her hoof back down with a snort.

She heard a small gasp and retreating hooves, which broke her out of her musings. She’d been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t seen Dinky approach. Dinky eyed her hesitantly, slowly walking back over to her as she brought a smile to her face. “Sorry, Muffin. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She patted the seat next to her.

Dinky cocked her head at her. “Are you all right, Mommy? You’ve been acting kinda, um... weird.”

Ditzy nodded. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. It’s been a crazy kind of week.”

“That’s for sure.”

Ditzy motioned next to her with a hoof, looking at Dinky expectantly. After a short hesitation, Dinky hopped up and snuggled up against her. They sat there for a time, staring into the fire while she idly rubbed Dinky’s back. They both jumped at a sudden knock at the door. Dinky groaned and slumped back into the couch. “Not another one!”

Ditzy sighed. Would they ever leave her alone? This must be how Spitfire felt all the time. How did she ever manage to get anything done? “Don’t worry. If we ignore them, they’ll leave. Just like all the others.”

Dinky nodded and pulled up close to her again, shooting uneasy glances at the door.

But the knocking did not go away; it returned louder and more insistent. Somepony shouted something, but the voice was muffled beyond recognition by the door and the roar of the wind outside. She sighed and pushed herself up off the couch, grumbling quietly to herself as she walked over to the door. As she got closer, she could hear the voice a bit better. It was a stallion’s voice, and it was still difficult to hear, but she could make out what he was saying.

“Ditzy! Ditzy, open up! You simply cannot leave me to freeze out here!”

She frowned. That voice... it sounded so familiar. She couldn't place it, but she felt as if she should be able to. She chuckled softly. Well, she didn't exactly have the best track record for recollecting things. She was pretty sure he wasn’t a reporter, though. At the very least, he certainly didn't sound like one.

She mulled it over for a bit, then unlocked the door and pulled it open a crack. The stallion had his back to her and was halfway down the front steps, but he turned back around as the light from inside spilled out onto the porch. "Ah, Ditzy. Excellent! I had nearly given up."

He was wearing a heavy cloak with the hood pulled up, which hid his face and covered most of his body, but she caught flashes of his grey coat underneath that gave her pause. He didn't have a camera, or at least not one that she could see; all he had was a suitcase levitating beside him, surrounded by a grey aura. But just because she couldn’t see a camera didn't mean he wasn't one of those leeches, and something about him made her feel uneasy. "What do you want?"

"Well, I heard you were here. Kind of hard not to, really; it’s been in all the papers. It’s still a bit of a shock to me; nopony knew where you went after they let you out of the hospital. I thought you’d been stashed away in Manehattan somewhere, so you can imagine my surprise when I read you were in Ponyville, of all places."

His voice was nagging at her. She was sure she knew him.

"As soon as I heard you were here I came down immediately, of course. After all, we have some unfinished business to discuss." He stepped in front of the door and the light fell across his face.

Ditzy shut her eyes and brought a hoof to her head as new memories surfaced, memories of the grey unicorn taking her to suave parties and fancy dinners. She remembered finally seeing how self-absorbed and controlling he was, and how she'd finally come to despise him. "Slate!"

She tried to shut the door, but she was still disoriented, and Slate was too fast. He forced the door open and barreled into her as Dinky screamed behind her. Ditzy was knocked on her back and found Slate's hoof pressing down on her chest when she tried to get up. She strained against him and pulled a hoof back to strike at him.

"Ah, ah, ah." She froze at the frightened cry from over by the couch and turned to look toward the fireplace in alarm. She saw Dinky, standing very still and whimpering fearfully, trying to shy away from the dagger held against her throat by Slate’s magic. “We wouldn’t want anything... untoward to happen, now would we?”

Ditzy lowered her hoof, staring helplessly at her daughter. She turned back to Slate, who was grinning madly. “But you’re—I thought you were in prison!”

His smile faded and he struck her in the face with his free hoof. She grunted from the heavy impact. “Yes, I was, no thanks to your friend. But I got paroled. Good behavior, don’t you know.” He tweaked her nose roughly. “Well, I suppose you didn’t.”

He hit her again and again as his eyes sparked with a fevered light. “My life was ruined because of you! Father wrote me out of the family, out of the will!All he wanted was to be a grandfather. I could have been his primary beneficiary, his favorite son! All that money, wasted, because YOU WERE SO SELFISH!” He reared up and slammed both hooves down on her ribcage. Her pained moaning broke into a raw scream.

He shook his head slowly, sneering down at her. “And you seemed like such a perfect choice.” He took a ragged breath and collected himself a bit as his eyes flicked to Dinky. “So, since you took my family away from me, I thought I’d take your family away from you.” His horn glowed, and Dinky floated over in front of him. The knife pressed closer to her throat, drawing a trickle of blood.

Dinky flinched and cried out, tears running down her cheeks. “Mommy!” She struggled briefly as the magic aura around her intensified. Her struggles ceased and she froze in midair, screaming as the dagger pulled back.

Ditzy’s stomach clenched as she desperately tried to throw Slate off of her. “Stop it! Don’t hurt her! DON’T HURT MY DAUGHTER!” But she was held firm.

He chuckled grimly. “Ironic, isn’t it, that I’d be the one to kill her while you try to save her.”

Even as she fought, Ditzy felt the needles in her head, but more than that, she felt a new fear as her mind screamed at her not to remember. She knew that this memory was one she didn’t want back. She tried to beat it away, but it returned unbidden.

Slate’s china cup floated down and settled gently in its saucer on the gilded table in front of him. “Ditzy, dear, please! This is my foal too! Don’t I have a say in this?”

She slammed her own cup down with significantly less grace. “This is not a discussion, Slate! This is my body, and my life, and there’s no room in it for a dinky little kid!”

He stood up, staring at her indignantly. “Now see here, you have to listen to me. I—”

“No, I don’t have to listen to you. You don’t seem to understand; it isn’t your foal, because it is not a foal. It will never be a foal!”

She got up and tromped toward the double-doors, nodding to the butler as he pulled them open for her. She turned in the doorway to look back at Slate. “I’m going to the tryouts tomorrow. Then I’m going to the clinic to get rid of it. If you can’t accept that... well, that’s just too bad.” She walked out and kicked the door shut behind her, taking off from the magnificent front lawn and leaving the Hooves’s manor behind.

As the memory faded, Ditzy realized she was screaming. “NOOOO!” She didn’t know if she was screaming because Slate was trying to kill Dinky, or if she was refusing to accept that she had tried to do so herself. In a blind rage she sank her teeth into Slate’s leg and bit down hard.

He yelped and tried to jump back, impeded somewhat by the pony clinging to his leg. Her mouth wrenched, but she just sunk her teeth in deeper and hung on. The knife wavered and Dinky dropped to the ground as his magic flickered. He beat at Ditzy with his hooves before finally wrenching her off and sending her sprawling with his magic. She tried to get back up, but Slate charged at her, slamming into her with a snarl and sending her back to the floor. He stood on top of her again and sent the knife streaking toward her face with a furious roar.

Ditzy squeezed her eyes shut, but the blow never came. She cracked her good eye open, then opened them both wide in shock.

Slate and the knife were surrounded by a pale, purple-grey glow, the knife held motionless mere inches from her face. At first, she thought it was Slate’s magic, but she quickly recognized it as—She looked back around to see Dinky slowly pick herself up off the ground, her horn lit up with the same purple glow. Ditzy’s jaw dropped in disbelief before she recalled the more pressing situation and began to twist and strain furiously under Slate’s frozen hoof.

Slate’s horn pulsed with magic, the grey glow pushing against the surrounding purple. Dinky grunted, shaking her head as her magic was forced outward, retreating from Slate’s body. “You think you can hold me, little filly?” His horn pulsed again and Dinky cried out in pain as she stumbled backward. “You’re nothing, just like her. You have no chance. You’re only making things worse for yourself.” The grey aura flooded outward, the purple shell cracking and thinning around him. Dinky sank to her forelegs, her horn sparking and sputtering. “I’ll kill her, and then—”

“SHUT UP!” Dinky shot back to her feet, raising her head defiantly. The glow around her horn solidified, then intensified, and Slate’s grey aura was rapidly swallowed by purple, his body now barely free of Dinky’s hold. Dinky took a step toward him. She was bleeding from her nose and around the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was fixated on Slate.

“Everypony is always mean to my mommy! Everypony teases her, makes her cry.”

Slate’s horn pulsed rapidly, desperately, but the grey aura was now barely creeping outward. “No, this is impossible!”

Dinky’s bleeding intensified with Slate’s struggles. She took another step, standing before him with a dark glower. “Everypony tries to hurt her. Well, now nopony is going to hurt my mommy EVER AGAIN!” There was a burst of light and the glow around her horn expanded outward. The trickles of blood turned to small streams and droplets dripped to the ground beneath her.

Slate’s breathing intensified as his aura’s spread slowed to a halt. His eyes darted about madly as his aura started to crawl back toward him, Dinky’s aura creeping ever closer. His gaze finally fixed on Ditzy, who had freed herself and was standing next to him. Rather, he fixated on her rear hoof, which was tapping against his face. She tapped out a small circle, made sure she had her bearings, then let out a forceful grunt and bucked him square in the face.

He crumpled, his magic fading out as he lost consciousness. Dinky’s aura cut off shortly after. She turned to face Ditzy, mumbled something incoherent, and slumped to the floor.

Ditzy rushed to her daughter and pressed her head against her chest. She still had a strong heartbeat, thank Celestia, but her face was a mess of blood, and she was still bleeding. She darted into the kitchen and returned with a towel, holding it to Dinky’s nose. She looked back and forth between Slate and Dinky rapidly. What was she going to do? She had to get Dinky some help; she had no idea how serious her injuries were. But she couldn’t just leave her daughter here alone, bleeding like she was, and she certainly couldn’t leave Slate here; there was no telling when he’d wake up and what he’d do when he did. She was in pretty rough shape, and Dinky was out of commission. There was no way they’d be able to stand up to him a second time. She had to do something to keep him from attacking again.

She caught a flash of something out of the corner of her eye. She let go of the towel and walked over to the fireplace, where Slate’s far-flung dagger lay glinting wickedly in the light. She reached down and took it up in her mouth, walking back over to where the unconscious Slate lay.

Ditzy pulled her cloak tighter, bracing herself against one of the storm’s more intense gusts of wind. The bundle on her back slid slightly, the edges of the cloak it was wrapped in flapping violently. Ditzy grunted, reshouldering the weight of Slate’s limp body as she took another step on the road to Ponyville. The makeshift chest sling she wore swung as she walked, hitting her ribs every once in a while and electing a wince; the bedsheets did little to cushion the impacts, and her chest still ached from Slate’s beating.

Normally, carrying a pony on her back and a filly in a sling wouldn’t be too much of a problem for any pegasus. Heck, she’d flown with heavier loads before. But in the middle of a rainstorm, with a possible cracked rib or two... she didn’t even want to think about flying. Simply breathing hurt, and she felt constantly winded. Maybe I could stop, she thought. Just for a moment. Just to catch my breath.

She gritted her teeth and pushed herself to keep moving. No, she couldn’t stop. She wanted to kick herself for even considering it. She tried to push herself faster, but it was all she could to just plod along. “Hold on, Dinky. Just hold on.”

Her chest burned and her whole body ached by the time she staggered into Ponyville. She sobbed in relief as the first house came into view ahead of her. “We made it!” she croaked. Then she remembered the mare she needed lived next to the town square. She groaned as her elation melted away. “Well, nearly.” One hoof in front of the other. It’s just a little bit further. Celestia, were the street blocks alwaysthis long?

The streets were completely abandoned as she made her way through town; nopony was crazy enough to go out in the storm. She double-checked Slate to make sure he was hidden by his cloak; it wouldn’t do for somepony to look out the window and get the wrong impression.

Finally, she saw the large, hollowed-out library tree through the haze of rain around her. Though they were murderous, she managed to take the last few steps and collapsed against the door, gasping in relief. Slate slid off of her back and she didn’t even try to catch him, letting him land unceremoniously on the front step with a wet thud. Fighting to catch her breath, she blearily lifted a hoof and rapped on the door with what little strength she had left. “Twi—” her voice cracked and petered out. She took a couple deep breaths, then knocked again. “Twilight! I need help! Please!” That was a bit better. She pushed herself off the door and summoned the energy to slam her hoof against it. “Twilight! Open up! I—” The door was thrown open and she stumbled as her hoof met empty air.

Twilight was standing in the doorway, a candle lamp floating next to her and flickering feebly against the wind. “Who’s there? What’s...” Her brow furrowed as Ditzy threw back her hood. “Ditzy? What’s going on?”

She shook her head, tossing her head at Slate. “Inside. Help me with him.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at her. “Huh?” She took a closer look at the bundle, then her eyes shot wide and she took a step back. “‘Him?’ Is there a pony in there?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Just help me!”

Twilight took up the bundle with her magic and sent it floating inside as she moved out of the doorway to let Ditzy into the library. She followed the bundle in, levitating piles of books and scrolls off a table in the middle of the room. “Was he out in the storm? He didn’t get hit by lightning or something, did he? While I supposed it’s possible, there are very few recorded incidents of lightning striking ponies.”

Just getting out of the rain helped the weary pegasus feel better. She trudged over to a nearby desk and carefully removed the sling, wincing at the pain it caused. “No, it’s nothing like that. He—”

Twilight gasped. She had undone the cloak and found Slate. He was tied up with bedsheets, binding his forelegs behind his back and his hind legs tightly together. He had had a scarf tied over his eyes, though it must have come undone sometime during her walk over seeing as it was now around his neck, but the other restraints had held up well. Twilight blushed, and carefully avoided looking in Ditzy’s direction. “Ummm...”

Ditzy stomped a hoof in frustration. “Listen, he attacked us, okay? He forced his way into my house with a knife! He said he was gonna murder me, and he almost killed Dinky! It’s not like I had a whole bunch of rope just lying around, or I’d have tied him up with that! Now could you come and help me with my daughter?”

She took her filly in her arms and pulled back her blanket wrap, turning her so that Twilight could see her face. There were dried trails of blood from her injuries, but the bleeding itself had stopped. “Dinky did... something, I don’t know what, and they used magic on each other, and I got free and I kicked him, but then Dinky was bleeding and Slate could’ve woken up at any time and...” She realized she was babbling and took a deep breath. “I thought that, since you know all about magic and stuff, maybe you could help her. Or at least help me deal with Slate.”

Twilight frowned, pacing back and forth as she thought. Finally, she stopped and focused her gaze on Dinky, walking over to the unconscious filly and her mother. “Spike!” There was a startled cry and a bang from the top of the staircase, followed shortly by the baby dragon himself.

“Right here, Twilight! Listen, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but you guys were talking so loudly, it was kind of hard not to, and...” he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, shooting a quizzical look at Twilight and jerking a thumb at the still unconscious Slate. “What’s with this guy?”

Twilight didn’t even look over her shoulder at him, motioning Ditzy to lay Dinky down on the desk. “Not now, Spike! I need books! Could you get me the Guide to Equestrian Procedural Law? Oh, and First Aid for Unicorns, please.” She took a closer look at Dinky, checked her breathing and her heartbeat.

“Well, the first aid book is on the shelf next to you. Equestrian law... hmm, that’s a bit harder.” He began to search the shelves, shooting the occasional confused glance at Slate.

Twilight turned to the shelf, scanning it rapidly. “Okay, Ditzy, why don’t you just calm down a bit and tell me as much as you can about what happened to Dinky.”

Ditzy nodded, carefully wiping at her daughter’s face with the edge of the blanket as she spoke. “Right. Well, I’d just bit Slate, to keep him from... from stabbing Dinky.” She shuddered, but continued to speak. “Then he came back at me with the knife. I thought it was all over, but then he froze. I looked and saw Dinky standing there, and her magic had him held.”

Twilight frowned, pulling the first aid book off of the shelf with her magic. “Has she ever done anything like that before?”

Ditzy shook her head. “No, she told me she was just starting to levitate multiple objects.I’m pretty sure she’d have told me if she could do something like that. Anyway, so then Slate’s magic starts to... push out? I don’t know, it sort of... forced her magic away.”

Twilight nodded, flipping through the book.

“But then there was this flash of light and Dinky’s magic just rushed back towards him; that’s when she started bleeding. He sounded really worried there near the end, when I managed to get free from him and I kicked him. He collapsed, then Dinky collapsed, so I bundled them up and I... I made my way here.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at her. “Ditzy, that doesn’t make much sense. A filly just learning multi-levitation? There’s no way she could magically overpower a fully grown unicorn!” She looked Dinky over again, pulling the blanket wrap all the way off. She gave a knowing nod and let out an “Ah ha,” then turned back to Ditzy, settling the blanket back over Dinky. “Unless, of course, she experienced a magic surge, which is a common side-effect when—”

Slate groaned on the center table, flopping his head to the side. Ditzy moved to stand in front of Dinky, looking from Slate to Twilight helplessly. “He’s waking up! Do something!”

Twilight closed her eyes and her horn glowed as Slate was surrounded by a pink aura.

Slate’s eyes flashed open. He lifted his head to look at Ditzy as he writhed about on the table. “DITZY!”

Spike jumped at the sudden shout from right behind him and ran back over to Twilight, clutching at his chest.

Slate’s horn glowed grey inside the field of pink energy. Ditzy looked to Twilight nervously, but Twilight just shook her head with a confident smirk. “Don’t worry. He isn’t even close to breaking free.”

Slate’s horn stopped glowing, sweat pouring down his face. He snorted at them angrily. “You think a insolent mare can hold me? Nothing can stop me, Ditzy! You and your friend are dead! AND SO’S YOUR LITTLE—” Slate was cut short as the glow around Twilight’s horn increased and his mouth transformed into a zipper and zipped closed.

Ditzy slowly walked up to the table and loomed in front of Slate. She stared down at him, forcing her eyes to focus on his. She didn’t shout at him. She spoke very coldly and deliberately. “No, Slate. You are going to go away for a very long time.” For all the anger she felt, she also felt an odd sense of calm. She leaned in closer, her face still disturbingly impassive. “And if you ever even think of threatening my daughter again, I don’t care where they send you. I will go there, I will get to you wherever they hide you away, and I will kick you until you stop breathing.”

She turned back around to Twilight, who was just standing and staring at her incredulously. She walked back over to Dinky, looking down at her and pointedly ignoring Slate’s muffled shouts.

Twilight coughed and turned back to her. “Well, I...” She looked around nervously, fixating on Spike, who was staring at Ditzy uneasily. “Spike! Did you ever find that other book?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Right before that Slate guy nearly gave me a heart attack.” He walked back across the library, edging carefully around Slate’s table and returning with a thick, dusty tome.

“Thank you, Spike.” Twilight took it up with her magic, flipping through the pages. “Ditzy, you should probably... what are you doing?”

Ditz kept rummaging in her raincloak, pulling the dagger out and laying it on the desk in front of her. “Here.” She said simply. “It’s his.”

Twilight looked it over, grimacing and turning away as she saw the bloodstains on the blade. “I suppose that might help. Look, I’ll send a message to the Princess about this, and I’ll keep an eye on him until they can send somepony out here for him, okay? In the meantime, you should probably get Dinky to the hospital.”

“Why? Is it—”

She cut off as Twilight held up a hoof. “I doubt it’s serious, but I’m not a doctor, and besides, it’s best to be safe, right? I’d teleport you there, but that takes a lot of focus and energy, and I don’t think I should risk it.” She nodded toward the magic aura surrounding Slate.

Ditzy nodded as she re-wrapped Dinky in the blankets and settled her into the sling. She threw the sling back over her shoulder and headed for the door. “Thanks, Twilight. I don’t know what we’d have done if you weren't here.” She opened the door and walked back out into the rain, shutting the thick door behind her and cutting off Spike as he asked Twilight to remind him “never to piss off that mailmare.”

The walk to the hospital was merely incredibly painful, rather than agonizing, given her lessened burden and the shorter distance to travel. The emergency room was rather empty; the desk clerk summoned doctors for them straightaway as a nurse showed them into an exam room. She tried to stay next Dinky, but the nurses kept trying to pull her out of the room, kept asking to let another doctor take a look at her.

After the fourth time she refused to leave her daughter the doctor told the nurse to let her stay. He was an amber unicorn with a stylish brown mane, and he spoke to her as he worked, flitting an otoscope over and looking in Dinky’s ears. “Well, Ms. Doo, there doesn’t appear to be any serious damage, which makes the unconsciousness somewhat unusual. I remember you saying Twilight believed it was the result of a magic surge?”

Ditzy nodded before she remembered the doctor couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

He set the otoscope down and levitated a chart and pencil over, scribbling rapidly. “That can happen when a young unicorn foal experiences such a surge, especially if they’re already pushing their magic to the limits. The extreme exertion leads to sheer exhaustion and unconsciousness.” He gave her a comforting smile. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about; she just needs to rest and recover.” A nurse leaned over and whispered something in his ear. “Ah, we’re moving her to a recovery room now, Ms. Doo. So why don’t you just come with me so we can check you out—.”

“No, I have to stay with Dinky.” She pulled close to the gurney as orderlies swarmed up to it. They looked to the doctor.

“Please, Ms. Doo. I promise, we’ll make sure you end up in the same room, but right now, you need medical attention of your own. You won’t do her any good if you don’t let us help you.

She knew he was right, but she was still worried. She knew it didn’t make any sense; he said she’d be fine, that her injuries weren't serious or anything, and she was in a hospital besides. But it was harder for her to nod slowly at the doctor and let him lead her away than the entire rest of her journey had been.

Laying down on her own gurney brought a fresh lance of pain, but after all she’d been through, she barely noticed it. They kept the back of the gurney at an angle, which helped to lessen the pain when she breathed. Then the doctor gave her an IV that really helped with the pain. He poked at her, asked her a bunch of questions as he bandaged her chest, but she was only half-listening to him. All she could think about was Dinky. Finally, the orderlies came in and he told them to wheel her into “recovery room five.” Dinky’s gurney was already there waiting for her. Dinky herself was still asleep, but she’d been cleaned up since she’d been taken away. She looked so peaceful, lying there. Save for their surroundings, she looked like she’d fallen asleep as normal.

She tried to get up, but the doctor gently held her down. “You need to stay in bed, Ms. Doo. Please, try not to aggravate your injuries any more than you already have. Give your ribs some time to heal.”

“But, doctor—”

“Ah! Stay. In. Bed.”

She quit trying to get up and he removed his hoof. The orderlies wheeled her gurney next to the window and left. The doctor scribbled on her chart and gave her some pills. “These will help you sleep, Ms. Doo. I’ll have somepony check on you both in a little while.” He gave her a little cup of water and with a straw. She swallowed them down, draining the cup greedily. “Good night then, Ms. Doo.” He took up the glass and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

As soon as the doctor left, Ditzy pulled herself up out of the bed, dragging a nearby chair over to Dinky’s gurney. Fortunately, her IV stand had wheels on it. The leads for her heart monitor popped off, but she really didn’t need it anyway. She needed to be with Dinky.

Ditzy sat by the gurney, stroking Dinky’s mane softly, as not to wake her. She leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, like she’d always done after she tucked her in. “I love you, Dinky,” she whispered. “You have to believe me. Please, please believe me.”

Ditzy lay her head down on the gurney, her foreleg still resting against Dinky’s mane. Exhausted, she soon drifted off next to her sleeping daughter, comforted by the steady beating of her Little Muffin’s heart.

Epilogue: Peace of Mind

Spitfire slowed as Ditzy’s house came into view ahead of her, marveling at how much more cheerful it looked during the day. She was relieved to see that it was clear of reporters; hopefully, they were still snooping around Canterlot, for however long that lasted. She twisted to look over her shoulder again, but there was still nopony following her. She kept her eyes peeled as she picked up speed again. She wasn’t going to draw any newsponies back to Ditzy if she could help it.

As she got a little closer, she spotted Dinky chatting with an orange pegasus filly on the lawn. Dinky’s back was to her as she faced her friend, her body twisted to show the other filly the new cutie mark which she was so avidly focused on, but her friend was busy staring at Spitfire. As Spitfire started her descent, she began to make out what Dinky was saying.

“Isn’t it the coolest thing you’ve ever seen? I still can’t believe I finally got my cutie mark!” She traced out the silver sheriff’s star with a hoof, oblivious to the fact that her friend was no longer paying attention. “I got it last week, when... what are you looking at, Scootaloo?” Dinky turned as Spitfire flared out to land, then gasped and took a quick step back to stand next to her wide-eyed friend.

Spitfire flashed them a disarming smile. “Hello, Dinky.”

Dinky returned her smile hesitantly. “Umm... hello, Ms. Spitfire.”

She held out a hoof to her. “Nice to finally meet you, kid. Your mom’s told me a lot about you.”

Dinky timidly reached out to shake her hoof, her voice growing a bit stronger. “My mommy’s told me about you, too. She said you were best friends.”

She chuckled. “And still are, I hope.” She dropped her hoof and turned to the other filly, who was still staring at her slack jawed. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, that’s Scootaloo.”

Spitfire held out a hoof to her, but the filly didn’t move until Dinky rolled her eyes and nudged her with an elbow, at which she started forward. She was trembling slightly as she shook Spitfire’s hoof. “H-Hello Spitfire!” Scootaloo’s shock had shifted entirely into eagerness: her “hello” was nearly a shout and the filly started pumping her hoof violently.

Scootaloo was something of a fan, it seemed. Spitfire took the filly’s enthusiasm in stride and gently worked her hoof free. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, too.” The filly pulled her hoof back and stared at it incredulously; Spitfire briefly wondered how long she would go before washing it again. She turned back to Dinky, who was eyeing Scootaloo with a hoof to her mouth, emitting intermittent snickers. “Is your mom inside, Dinky? I wanted to talk with her a bit.”

Dinky shook her head, her smile fading. “No, she flew off somewhere just after breakfast. She went that way, I think.” She pointed at a cloud bank a ways off, then dropped her hoof with a growing look of concern. “She’s been kinda, I dunno... different, since the hospital.” Her frown deepened as she eyed the cloud bank worriedly.

Spitfire arched an eyebrow at her. “Different how?”

Dinky shook herself slightly. “It’s nothing bad or anything, it’s just... well, she’s quiet all the time. She sits on the couch and stares off at nothing, or she goes and flies away somewhere.” Dinky dropped her head slightly, shaking her head slowly. “She seems so sad now.”

Spitfire frowned. That didn’t sound like Ditzy at all. Maybe things had been weighing on her friend more heavily than she’d let on. “Thanks.” She nodded to Dinky, then took off for the cloud bank, scanning around rapidly. She finally spotted Ditzy hovering next to a lone cloud off on her left. As she watched, Ditzy took off, soaring up and around the cloud in a rather erratic path that could only graciously be compared to a proper circle. She managed to make a rough two circuits before her wing caught on the surface. She barreled into the cloud with a yelp and the muted crash of a cloud impact. Spitfire flew up next to her as she was working herself free of the small ditch she’d carved across the surface.

Ditzy eyed her offending wing balefully, then brought a hoof to her head with a frustrated snort, rapping on her forehead roughly and muttering to herself angrily. “Stupid. Stupid eyes, stupid balance, stupid dizziness, stupid wings, stupid derpy Ditzy—” She cut off as she realized Spitfire was there, and turned to face her. She tried to smile, but it was weak, and the tension never left her face. “Oh, hey Spitz.” Ditzy looked past her hurriedly. “Tell me you didn’t bring any of them with you.”

Spitfire shook her head. “Don’t worry. Slate’s at the center of attention now, not you. Besides, they still think you’re a protected witness in some Canterlot hotel somewhere with guards on your door.” She smiled ruefully. “You have your unicorn friend to thank for that one. Apparently, she’s got connections. Higher up than mine, even, and that’s saying something.”

Ditzy sighed with relief, but her brief look of mollification vanished quickly. “That’s not going to work for long, and you know it. Eventually, they’ll come poking around out here again.”

“No question. But maybe it’ll last long enough for you to become old news.” Maybe earth ponies would fly, too, but there was no reason to cause her friend any more grief.

Ditzy gave her a doubtful look, but thankfully changed the subject. “How’d things go today?”

She answered quickly, eager to get away from the topic of reporters. “Pretty well. That unicorn—Twilight?”

Ditzy nodded expectantly.

“Well, Twilight gave her statement. A very... detailed statement she had written on a length of scroll the likes of which I have never before seen. Between her, you, and Dinky—plus his background? And the knife?” She shook her head and bared her teeth in a savage grin. “He’s not gonna worm his way out of this one. Not this time.” She frowned. “I’m surprised you didn’t show up, actually. I figured you’d want to be there to watch the trial play out.”

Ditzy shook her head, wincing. “No. I... no. They didn’t need me there today, and I didn’t...” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I wanted to stay close to Dinky. Until I’m sure she’s recovered and all.”

Spitfire raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh? Then what are you doing way up here? Flying rings? Spinning clouds, perhaps?”

Ditzy blushed and lurched into the air with a quick flap of her wings. She flew to a nearby cloud, landing with her back to her. After a moment, Spitfire followed, afraid she’d been too harsh. As she landed, Ditzy flopped down at the cloud’s edge. She rested her head on her forelegs, staring at the house below. Her daughter and her friend were barely visible on the front lawn far below. Spitfire moved to sit next to her and tried again. “I saw her down there before I came to see you, and she seemed fine to me. Better than fine, in fact; she was pretty excited about her new cutie mark.”

Ditzy smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and she avoided her friend’s gaze. “She got it protecting me from Slate. She said she wants to keep ponies from getting hurt, and to keep bad ponies from hurting anypony else.” Her smile faltered and she buried her head in her forelegs. “She shouldn’t have saved me. I didn’t deserve it.”

Spitfire put a comforting hoof on her shoulder, but Ditzy only buried her face deeper. “What are you talking about, Ditz?”

Ditzy lifted her head and stared at her pleadingly. “I didn’t want a foal. I didn’t want my own daughter! I hated her—I was repulsed by the very idea of her! I didn’t love her, Spitz! And... and I don’t deserve her.” She closed her eyes and hung her head. Her voice was shaky, and she sounded on the edge of tears. “I don’t deserve to be her mother.”

Spitfire was stared at her incredulously. Not love Dinky? How could she even say that? She was about to refute Ditzy, then paused, frowning. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made, however much she hated to admit it. Ditzy hadn’t exactly struck her as the motherly type. She’d been having trouble with Slate: she probably would’ve left him even if he hadn’t tried to kill her. An up-and-coming young stunt flier who’d seen firsthoof from Spitfire’s own mom how hard it was to raise a foal alone and be a Wonderbolt at the same time? It was no wonder she’d had some reservations about a foal.

After her moment of thought, Spitfire gently turned Ditzy’s head to face her again, and asked her long-familiar question. “Ditz... do you remember who I am?”

Ditzy looked at her quizzically. “Yes...” Her voice was hesitant. She gave a weak chuckle. “At least, I do now.”

“Well, let me tell you who you are. You aren’t a Best Young Flier. You’re not a majestic Skydancer, or a stunt flier adored by crowds of ponies. That’s all what you were, and you’ve gotta accept that you’re never gonna be any of that again.” She tried to keep her voice soft, but Ditzy still blushed furiously shot a guilty look at the now-stationary cloud she had been attempting to spin.

“You’re a mailmare, Ditz.” There was no hint of derision, no implication by her tone that it was something less than any of the other professions.“Your eyes are all screwed up and you fly crooked half the time”—she smiled to try and take some of the sting out of her words—“but you’re a good, honest, kind-hearted pony, who always tries to do her best. You like a bit more peace and quiet now, and you bake some of the best muffins in Equestria. As to Dinky—”

Ditzy flinched and her face fell, but Spitfire cupped her chin and brought her head back up. “You don’t hate Dinky. You know that. That’s part of what you were. What you are, and what you have been for all her life, is a loving mother, and a darn good one. Nevertell yourself you aren’t. Never.”

Ditzy nodded jerkily and took a ragged breath. “I-I...”

Spitfire pulled her close as she collapsed against her shoulder, tears falling silently against her coat.

“I’ve been a horrible pony. I ran away from her then, and now that I know, I can’t bear to face her, so I just flew off to try and do stunts again but I know I can’t, and... and...”

Ditzy sniffed and trailed off as Spitfire patted her gently and murmured comforts. After a couple of minutes, her tears stopped, and she pulled out of her embrace. “Thanks, Spitz.” She gave a weak smile, but it was the first of her honest smiles Spitfire had seen for some time. “I guess I’ve been acting kinda foalish, huh?”

Spitfire shook her head and grinned at her. “No you haven’t. You’re just been... a bit confused, is all. Honestly, with everything you’ve been through recently, I’d be more surprised if you weren’t a little mixed up.”

“Heh. Well, I must admit it has been a rather unusual couple of weeks.” She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes.

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” She gave Ditzy a few minutes to compose herself, then stood up and tossed her head at the ground below. “Now c’mon, let’s get back down there. Your daughter’s been worried about you, too, you know.”

Ditzy hesitated briefly, but took off only a second or two behind her, leaving the bulky cloud unspun to slowly drift away in the wind.

The wind stung at Ditzy’s eyes, which were still sensitive and slightly watery. She wiped at her face with a hoof again as she glided beside Spitfire down toward the house. I’ve been such a coward, she berated herself silently. I’ve been beating myself up for abandoning Dinky, then I go and try to do it all over again. She beat her wings furiously, far more vigorously than was necessary for her slight course correction. Well, not this time. Never again. I’m done with that life.

Dinky waved at her from the lawn, calling out a cheerful “Hi, Mommy!” as the pegasi came closer. As Spitfire flared out to land, Ditzy sped up and shot past her, angling straight for Dinky and scooping her up into a hug. Ditzy took off and Dinky shrieked with delight, clinging to her mother as she was hoisted into the air. As she slowed to a hover, Dinky clung tighter. Ditzy squeezed back and nuzzled her, leaning to whisper in her ear.

“I love you, Muffin. You know that, right?

“Mmm.” Dinky snuggled closer to her. “Mmm-hmm.”

She smiled and gave her a kiss as they began to descend. “Good.” She winced. “I’m sorry I’ve been so out of it lately.”

Dinky looked up at her and smiled back. “It’s okay, Mommy. I’m just glad that you’re happy again.”

She chuckled. “Me too.” As they touched down, she reluctantly released her hold and let Dinky back down to the ground. Spitfire was grinning at them, while Scootaloo was trying, with limited success, to maintain her composure around the celebrity.

Spitfire looked to the sky briefly, judging the sun’s position. “Well, I took the day off to go to court, so I don’t have anywhere I need to be. I doubt I’d make it back to the aerodrome before practice ends anyway.”

Ditzy gave an amused murmur. “In that case, since you’re already here, why not stay for dinner? I’m sure the fillies won’t mind.” Dinky’s face lit up and Scootaloo gasped with excitement.

Spitfire pretended not to notice and spoke with exaggerated deliberation. “Hmm... I suppose I could stay for dinner.”

“YAY!” The fillies took off across the lawn for the front door.

Ditzy called out after them. “Now, Dinky, make sure you and Scootaloo wash your hooves before you start baking anything!”

“Okay, Mommy!” Dinky called over her shoulder without slowing as the duo darted indoors, the grown mares following along more slowly, laughing softly at the fillies’ display of enthusiasm.

Spitfire stopped in the doorway, shooting a quick look inside to check for prying ears. Apparently satisfied by what she saw, she came back out on the porch and put a hoof to Ditzy’s chest to keep her from entering. “Hold up, Ditz. I wanted to give you something.”

Ditzy pulled her hoof back from the door and looked at her questioningly. After a short rummage through her saddlebags, Spitfire withdrew the embossed photo book and held it out to her friend. “I think you should hang on to this.” She smiled as Ditzy took the book from her. “Y’know, just in case.”

Ditzy gave a wry snort. “No offense, Spitz, but I really hope I won’t need it again.” Her tone softened. “Thanks.”

Spitfire nodded and pulled the door open, holding it for her. “We’d better get in there while there’s still something left of your kitchen.” Ditzy slid past her and made for the living room as Spitfire went into the kitchen, the front door swinging shut behind her. “What have you two done? You’ve only been in here for, like, two minutes! How could you make this much of a mess in two minutes?”

“We got out all the pans and stuff and then we picked out the ingredients! I’m making mine banana nut muffins, but Scootaloo wanted carrots and cinnamon.”

“What’d you want on yours? Chocolate chips? Strawberries? Apples? I think there’s some peanut butter somewhere...”

“I wouldn’t mind some blueberries...”

Ditzy tuned their voices out as she moved to the bookcase, sliding the new photobook in next to her plain brown one full of family pictures and late-night visits with Spitfire. It looked so ordinary next to its stylish counterpart. Maybe just a little embossing? She ran a slow hoof up the spine, whispering to herself softly. “Ditzy Doo: Mailmare Extraordinaire? Hmm...” It did have a bit of a ring to it...

She shook her head with snort and dropped her hoof. “Nah.” With both sets of her memories safely tucked away, she turned her back on them and went to bake some muffins with her daughter and her friend.

The End.

Intro: Muffin Time

As the moon rose over Ponyville, a lone pegasus slowly winged her way toward the outskirts of town. A simple fight cap hid her mane, while a saddle served to hide her cutie mark and camouflage her bright yellow coat. She took the time to enjoy her flight; she often relished slow flight and the opportunity to appreciate the scenery, despite her reputation as a speedster. She recalled it had been fall in Ponyville, not spring, the last time she made this trip. With a grimace she again swore to visit more often, no matter what her schedule was like. She shook her head and focused on her landing as her destination came into view.

The simple, two-story wooden house stood alone on a hill near the outskirts of Ponyville. Though originally a home for earth ponies, it had been adapted, rather clumsily, for pegasi by the addition of a second story door and a small landing pad. Though the home was well maintained, the handypony responsible for maintenance was clearly sub-par: the brown window shutters were noticeably not level and the grey paint was darker in some patches than others, as if extra layers had been applied. The flower garden was colorful, but the normally uniform lines of flowers were a sprawling mishmash of red and yellow blossoms, while the swing on the front porch was slightly lower on one side than the other. Overall it gave the home a warm, lived-in look that belied its state of disrepair.

Spitfire gave a small shiver as she landed in front of the house; as warm and covering as the flight saddle was, it couldn't match the warmth her flightsuit normally provided. She walked up the porch and knocked softly, knowing one of the home's two occupants would be fast asleep by now. The door opened a crack, and a grey pegasus with a platinum blonde mane and two yellow, bidirectional eyes slowly peeked out from behind the door. Her face broke into a wide smile when she saw Spitfire on her porch.

"Spitz! You back for more of my deeelicious muffins?" Ditzy was full of unbridled enthusiasm, though not loud enough to wake her sleeping daughter.

Spitfire nodded and the door opened all the way, her host escorting her to a comfortable seat in the dining room. It was a fairly sparse room, populated by some bookcases, a dining table and a sofa in front of the lit fireplace.

"I know it's been a while, Ditz, sorry. But we were touring across Equestria; between that and the training I just couldn't get away."

Ditzy waved her hoof graciously. "I understand. I'll find muffins, and coffee! Be back soon."

She walked to the kitchen, returning a short while later with a platter sporting two steaming cups of coffee and a plate of muffins. She walked with care, so as not to bump into something and scatter muffins everywhere, as Spitfire knew she was so prone to do. Spitfire had shrugged out of her flight gear and was settling in when Ditzy reentered the dining room.

"Blueberry for my muffin-friend!” She grabbed one off of the platter and took a greedy bite, smiling as she chewed. “Mmmm. They’re not fresh, but they still taste best."

She smiled. Whatever else her friend had forgotten, Ditz always remembered that blueberry muffins were her favorite.

They chatted over the muffins and coffee. Spitfire asked about Ditzy's mailmare job, well-being, and Dinky's schoolwork, while Ditzy asked 'Spitz' about her Wonderbolts career, whether she'd met any special somepony yet, and if she ran across any muffins better than her own in her travels.

Spitfire felt a growing happiness as the evening wore on. She missed this, the quiet little talks with her old friend, but they always ended up making her sad somehow. They always reminded her of just how much Ditzy had forgotten, of how different she was now. She certainly looked happy, but would she have been happier if she was as she used to be?

She sighed. There was no use now in thinking about how things could have been. It was getting late, and she had to be back at the training grounds early tomorrow morning. "Sorry, Ditz, but it's pretty late. I should be heading out." As she started to strap herself into her flight gear, she put her hoof into her saddlebags, and asked Ditzy her ritual question. "Ditz… do you remember who I am?"

Ditzy gave her a look that her voice confirmed was skeptical. "You’re Spitfire. A Wonderbolt! We eat muffins, and talk, and… and hang out together! You’re my best friend." Her look turned quizzical. “You feeling alright, Spitz?” Her ritual response, which Spitfire answered with a sad smile.

She sighed and reached for a different object inside her saddlebags, pulling out a photograph of the two of them in that same dining room. They were leaning against each other, Spitfire staring morosely at an empty muffin plate while Ditzy had her coffee cup teetering precariously on her head. "I’m fine. I almost forgot; the photo from last time, for your book. You should warn me next time you put cider in the muffin mix. It was pretty sketchy flying back home." She set the photo down on the table and walked across the room. "Anyway, I should be back in about five weeks. We only have a couple of events this month. So I'll see you then." She waved a hoof from the door, closed it behind her and took off from the front lawn, quickly fading into the night.

***

Unseen by either mare, a grey unicorn filly with a platinum blonde mane like her mommy's watched with rapt attention from the top of the stairs as Spitfire left, the bad dream which had originally provoked her to head downstairs for her mommy long forgotten. She was ready to bolt back upstairs in an instant; as excited as she was, she knew her mommy wouldn't be happy if she caught her listening. But her mommy was just standing by the door, staring up at the visitor as she disappeared into the night sky. She kept staring for a few minutes before grabbing the photograph off of the table and making her way over to one of the bookcases. After some fumbling, she managed to stick the photo partway behind the cover of a nondescript, thick brown book on the top shelf, then let out a yawn as she grabbed the platter off the table and headed toward the kitchen.

Dinky’s heart raced as she quickly but quietly retreated back to her bedroom. She returned to her bed and feigned sleep, waiting for her mother to retire for the night. Shortly thereafter, she heard hoofsteps on the stairs. As her door creaked open, she held very still and tried to breathe slowly. She heard her mommy whisper “Goodnight, Muffin,” before the door closed again, and the hoofsteps continued down the hall.

About fifteen minutes after hearing her mother's door close, Dinky crept back downstairs, using what little magic skill she had to cast a faint glow from her horn on the bookcase and the precious photo-book. Though she didn't have the magic to get the whole book down, she had enough to pull the photo out of the book and down to her. The photo almost made her giggle before she could stop herself; it looked like the Wonderbolt lady wanted more of Mommy's muffins, which Dinky could certainly understand, while Mommy was being silly with her coffee.

She snuck back upstairs, and carefully placed the photo into her saddlebags with a satisfied smile. She tucked herself back into bed, hopeful that tomorrow at school, maybe some of the other fillies would play with her more if they knew her mommy was not a klutzy pegasus, but that she was cool—that she was friends with a Wonderbolt!

Part 4: Childhood Memories

Spitfire and the other pegasi were almost finished with their afternoon warm-ups when the camp coach, Storm Cloud, a smoky grey Pegasus with a cloud pouring rain adorning his flank, interrupted their various stretches. "All right, everypony, c'mon over." He looked over his shoulder at a grey pegasus filly who walked up next to him and stopped. He put a hoof on her shoulder and turned to address the assembled foals.

"This here is Ditzy Doo. She's just moved to Cloudsdale and she's gonna be joining us for the rest of camp. Say 'hi,' everypony."

"Hi, Ditzy."

The newcomer returned their by-rote response with significantly more energy. "Hi, everypony."

Spitfire looked her over; she looked friendly enough. The newcomer sported an excited grin as she eagerly scanned the simple race course, though she examined the assembled pegasi a bit more shyly.

Storm Cloud interrupted her sizing up of the newcomer: "All right, fliers, two more minutes for warm-ups, then we hit the race course."

Ditzy winced and quickly moved off to warm-up with what little time she had.

Spitfire grinned as she stepped up to the farthest position on the starting line. In front of her was the race course: a simple circular track of solid cloud with cloud rails to contain the racers. She looked left at the others, smirking at the looks she got back, many of them resigned. The looks made her feel smug, energized her. They knew she was the fastest; speed was her special talent, as attested to by her fire-bolt cutie mark. She tensed up into a start position, ready to jump at a moment's notice as Storm Cloud approached the line.

It was time to win.

He shouted "go" and the fliers took off. Spitfire quickly pulled to the lead, her nearest competitors falling steadily behind despite their frantic flapping. She finished first with a clear and significant lead, only slightly winded, and slowed to turn and look at her competitors' progress.

She picked Ditzy out easily. She was trailing near the center of the main pack of fliers, though she was laboring heavily to maintain even that position, her chest heaving much more rapidly than the other pegasi's. Spitfire noticed her wings were a bit smaller than the others', noticeable now that she was amidst them, and they were flapping much more rapidly. As the last flier crossed the finish line, Storm Cloud went over to Ditzy and whispered to her quietly, causing her to blush and shake her head. He nodded slowly before waving the crowd of ponies toward the locker room, announcing a water break while he set up the next course.

Spitfire was standing in line to get a drink of water from the fountain when she was bumped from behind. She turned to see Ditzy rather quickly recovering from a push given to her by the pegasus that had walked up behind her: a rather stolid brown pony with a spiked black mane.

His voice was goading. "Heh, way to go, Ditzy Dunce. Heard that coach was afraid you'd pass out during the race. What's the matter, Tiny Wings? Is flying too hard for you?" He laughed derisively as he kept walking, cutting into the line for another fountain in front of a friend further ahead.

With his back turned as he walked away, he failed to see her crouch down to leap at him as her face turned to a rictal snarl, as well as Spitfire's quick grab to prevent her from doing so.

"Woah there, Newbie. If Coach finds out you've been fighting, he'll ground you for days. Trust me, I learned that the hard way."

At that she calmed down a bit and quit struggling against Spitfire's hold and shot a final, hateful glare in his direction before turning to her restrainer. "Thanks, I guess. What's his problem anyway?"

"Oh, you mean Bouncer? He's like that to everypony."

Ditzy's brow furrowed as she gave the yellow pegasus a closer look. "Hey, you're the one that won the race right?"

She couldn't help a small grin at being reminded of her recent victory. "Yup. I'm Spitfire." She held out a hoof to shake, which Ditzy took. "It's no biggie though; I win all the races. It is my special talent, after all." She nodded toward the cutie-mark on her flank.

Ditzy went slightly wide-eyed, and her voice held a tint of excitement. "I'm Ditzy… but I guess you already knew that, huh? It must be awesome to have a racing cutie-mark. You were almost a blur back from where I was."

They shuffled forward in line, Spitfire taking the complement in stride. "Yeah, it is pretty cool." She eyed her new acquaintance nervously. "Umm, I don't wanna be mean or anything, but were you really gonna pass out? I mean, I saw you were flying pretty hard…"

She looked away, blushing. "Oh it wasn't that bad… it's just my stupid wings." She extended one of the offending appendages and Spitfire saw that they were indeed smaller than her own, by a good two or three inches. "Dad says I'm just growing slower than the other pegasi. I think it's cause I never got to fly."

"What do you mean, you never got to fly?"

"Well…" She scuffed a hoof across the cloudface. "Our old house was an earthpony house in Manehatten. Dad says it—well, it wasn't the nicest part of town. Our street was more of a cramped little alley, and there were some scary kinds of ponies out there sometimes. He wouldn't let me outside without him there, so I only really got to fly inside our house or at this park we went to sometimes on the weekend."

Spitfire was shocked. She couldn't imagine something as horrible as constantly being kept from flying. "Oh, I'm sorry. That sounds… awful."

"Yeah…" She perked up suddenly. "But now that we've moved here, Dad says I can fly as much as I want, and I can play outside and stuff! It's gonna be great!"

"And that's why you're in flight camp?"

"Yeah. I love flying, and I'm gonna be the best flyer ever. Everypony knows the best fliers go through flight camp, so…"

Spitfire smiled weakly. Flight camp was full of pegasi like that: the weaker fliers who though flight camp would turn them into superponies. The camp took everypony, but in reality most of those weaker ponies couldn't keep up and dropped out after a month or two.

They had finally reached the water fountain when Storm Cloud stuck his head into the locker room. "Okay, fliers, five more minutes, then it's time for the Advanced Ring Course." The ponies let out a collective groan, of which Spitfire's was one of the loudest.

The clueless newbie looked around in confusion. "What's everpony groaning about? What's the Advanced Rings Course?"

"Well, he puts out a bunch of rings in an obstacle course, and you have to fly through them all."

"Oh. That doesn't sound too bad."

She grimaced. "Yeah, just wait until you see them. I never do great at rings, and the advanced course is supposed to be super hard. We'd better get out there before we're late." The two pegasi joined the crowd of ponies reluctantly marching out of the locker room.

The grey pegasus stumbled slightly upon exiting the lockers, staring up at the assembled cloud course. "Woah."

"Yeah… it's kinda like that." Spitfire was also staring as she walked and a feeling of dread shot through her. The convoluted course had spiraling helices, slaloms, zig-zags, twists, a loop series and one part that even shot straight up and down. And the rings, she noticed, were not all that big. This would not be pretty.

"This is gonna be great!"

"What?" Ditzy's enthusiasm shocked her. She had barely broken her gaze away from the course to look incredulously at the other filly, who was gazing starry-eyed at the insane course and sporting a truly manic grin, when Storm Cloud stole her attention again.

"All right, everypony line up, let's go."

Her enthusiastic acquaintance shot past her and managed to make it to the front of the line, being one of the few ponies competing for the spot. Storm Cloud looked up from his clipboard and frowned, clearly dismayed at seeing Ditzy in front.

"Uhhh… you sure you wanna go first?"

"Yup!"

"Sure all that walking didn't wear you out, Ditzy Dunce?"

The derisive shout from behind made Spitfire jump. Recognizing the voice, she rounded on Bouncer. "Hey, leave her alone!"

He turned his sneer on her. "She'll still do better than you, Spitfailure! At least if she faints, she won't break any rings!" He laughed along with his cronies.

She was about to retort when the coach quashed their bickering. "All right, you two, that's enough! Step on over here, Ditzy."

He waved her over beneath the first ring. "Okay, the objective here is to fly through the rings as quickly as possible, breaking as few as possible. The time penalty for breaking a ring is pretty steep, so it's worth slowing down to avoid hitting one." He held up his stopwatch. "You ready?"

She crouched into a pre-leap position, the grin Bouncer had briefly dispelled returning rapidly. "Ready!" she shouted eagerly.

"Go!" he commanded, clicking the button as she took off.

Spitfire winced as she watched. Ditzy was flying only a touch slower than she had been flying in the race. She knew that if the overeager pegasus tried to take even the normal course at a racing clip like that, she wouldn't get too far without breaking a ton of rings. But as she watched, and the expected impact never came, she began to stare, barely noticing as the other pegasi stopped chatting to stare as well.

Despite Ditzy's speed, she hit every one of the small rings perfectly; every rapid turn she made was so graceful they looked more choreographed than reflexive. She used barrel rolls and over-wing flips on the slalom to preserve her speed, made the loops so tight Spitfire swore her wings would hit the cloudrings and did a full backflip on the vertical portion to shoot back downward, rather than turning with gravity. She dived toward the ground, flaring out at the last possible second to land gently on the cloudface. There was complete silence save for the reflexive click of a stopwatch button.

Ditzy's grin slipped a bit at the silence as she walked over to Storm Cloud. "How'd I do?"

His mouth, which had been hanging open, closed with an audible click of teeth. "Uhh… good. You did very good. Uhm… Sunlight, you're next. Get on up here."

With that, the other pegasi started chatting again, save for Spitfire, who was laughing heartily as Ditzy walked up next to her.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?"

She assuaged her with a hoof wave, still chuckling. "No, you were great. It's just—you should have seen Bouncer's face!" She did a rather stunning pantomime of the still-slackjawed bully and they broke into giggles.

"That was amazing! How the heck did you do that? I mean, even Coach was stunned."

"Well, like I said, I had to fly inside all the time. I got really good at tight-space flying and turns and stuff." She lifted her right leg slightly to show off her multi-bubble cutie mark. "Dad says it means I'm graceful. Other ponies say it means I'm fragile." She smiled wickedly. "Well, until they try and say it to my face."

As the pegasus in front of her finished the course, Storm Cloud waved Spitfire over. "Spitfire! You're up!"

She grimaced. "Here we go. Wish me luck."

Her attempt at the rings was less poor than usual; she only broke four or five rings, but Ditzy's recent stunning performance made her feel like a stone-winged buffoon. She walked back over to where Ditzy was waiting. "That was awful."

"It wasn't… too bad." Her hesitant tone was not convincing.

Her response was definitive. "It was pretty bad, Ditzy." She perked up a bit. "Hey, I was thinking… you wanna hang out after camp today?"

Ditzy's face lit up. "Yeah! I should ask my dad though, when he comes to pick me up. Y'know, cause we're still moving in and stuff?"

"Cool."

They stayed close as they went about the rest of their afternoon, chatting together as they performed their flying exercises and wing drills, Spitfire mainly answering Ditzy's numerous questions about Cloudsdale. Storm Cloud finally called a halt for the day, the fliers leaving through the locker room to where a line of parents were waiting outside to pick them up. Ditzy immediately headed for a beige pegasus stallion with a flowing blond mane, darker than her own, who sported three winged letters for a cutie mark and a camera around his neck. He trotted toward her and met her halfway.

"Heya, Ditzy Dear. How was your first day at Flight Camp?" He playfully messed her mane with a hoof.

She gave him a terse look as she flattened it, then broke out in a smile. "Pretty good. I won the ring course! Coach Storm Cloud said I got one of the best times for my age ever!"

He smiled back, sharing in her accomplishment, and scooped her up in a hug. "Hey, there you go, Champ."

"And—and, Dad, this," she waved with a hoof, "is Spitfire. She won the race today. She was super fast, Dad, you should… have… seen it…" She trailed off, both her and her father staring past Spitfire with mirrored incredulity.

Just as this was beginning to sink in, Spitfire felt a hoof land on her shoulder.

"Hey, Firecracker. Who's your friend?"

She whirled around to see an orange pegasus who had a cloud leaving a trail of flame for her cutie mark. The pegasus was smiling warmly at her, and she returned the smile readily.

"Mom!" She gave her a quick side nuzzle. "I thought you wouldn't be home till late!"

She gave her a short nuzzle back. "We were orienting the rookie today, Dear, so I got out a bit early. I thought we could do something fun, like get some sundaes maybe."

"Yes!" Spitfire hoof-pumped. Scoop's Cloud-Style Sundaes were of legendary deliciousness. She froze, immediately embarrassed; she'd almost forgotten about Ditzy. "Oh… could Ditzy come too? We were supposed to hang out together after camp."

Her mother looked over at Ditzy, still slackjawed in her father's hug, and chuckled quietly. "I assume you're referring to the filly."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom. This is Ditzy and uh… uh, her dad. Ditzy, this is my mom—"

The stallion finally managed to speak, and did so with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. "Cloudblazer! Oh Celestia, you're Cloudblazer." He dashed forward toward her, dragging his daughter along, and gave her an energetic hoof shake. "Speedy Doo, Ms. Cloudblazer, but friends call me Zippy. We're huge, huge Wonderbolt fans!"

She took it in stride. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Doo. Well, would you mind if Ditzy came along with us?"

Ditzy rounded on her father with full-force puppy eyes, bouncing in place. "Oh could I, Dad? Please?"

"Yeah! I mean, sure, of course. I'll uh… I'll unpack some of my stuff and I'll see you tonight, then. You do remember where the new house is?"

"Daaaad!"

"Okay, okay." He gave her a quick kiss on the head. "Bye, then." He had made it a couple of steps away before he stopped and came trotting back over. "Oh, Kiddo. Lemme get a picture of you on your first day of flight camp."

She groaned.

"Oh, c'mon. Lemme just get one of you and your friend."

She looked over at Spitfire who nodded. "...Fine."

He readied his camera as Spitfire walked up next to her. "All right… say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

They gave him wide smiles as the flash blurred their vision…

Ditzy shook her head as Spitz finished, shaking herself out of her daze. She still stared at the photo, her head pounding. She remembered this, but it was so foreign. It was difficult to take all of it in:

The sensation of being a filly?

The feeling of flying so perfectly?

The strangeness of seeing through normal eyes?

A father?

It was all too much. She felt a bit nauseous, but the pounding in her head was a little weaker.

Spitz continued, her eyes slightly unfocused and a tightness creeping into her voice. "We became best friends; despite how differently we flew and how we came from different places, we were so alike. Striving to excel, hilarious," she chuckled, "hot-headed and proud."

She flipped through a few pages. The pictures of birthday parties and school events sparked a sense of familiarity, but nothing more than that without Spitz explaining them.

"We got teased a lot in school, about our flying and how close we were. We got into a number of fights, as I recall. But they were just jealous."

She turned the page to a clipping of a short newspaper column, slightly crinkled and yellowed with age. There was a picture of her, Spitz, and a dozen or so other young pegasi sitting at a banquet table. The headline read "Cloudsdale High annual Sports Award Banquet marks end of season." With some effort, Ditzy focused on her younger self in the picture: her face looked… different. Younger, yes, but… sleeker. Less round, with more pronounced cheek bones and a stylishly waved mane. And the eyes, of course.

Spitz idly tapped the clipping with a hoof. "That was it—that was my senior year. Just a few months before graduation…"

Spitfire couldn't remember being so nervous. Well, apart from last season's Sports Award Dinner. As she looked to her left, it appeared that Ditzy wasn't faring much better; she was shaking slightly with excitement and her eyes were noticeably wider than usual. She kept tapping her right hoof atop her left as she waited.

"And MVP for the Speed Weather team is… Westwind!"

Ditzy gulped as the exuberant pegasus went up to the small podium at the front of the room to give his acceptance bit. The award for the Skydancers was up next. The speed of her hoof tapping increased slightly. Spitfire put a hoof on her shoulder.

"Hey, you'll get it. You won it the last two times and you'll win it this time."

She nodded, but her tapping did not slow.

Westwind finished and the school's sports administrator retook the podium. "Next up, the award for MVP of the Skydancers synchronized flight team is: Ditzy Doo!"

Ditzy popped up out of her chair and rushed up to the podium with less than her usual grace, her face plastered in a wide grin. "Thank you so much, everypony, and thanks especially to my dad," she eyed said pony sitting at the parent's table, who grinned and gave a short wave, "for moving us here and making this possible. I also wanna say that being the cooperative sport it is, I couldn't have done this without the support of the rest of the Skydancers."

The Skydancers scattered about the tables in the room gave a short cheer.

"Finally, I wanna announce that with Breeze graduating this year, I will be coming in next season as formation head and flight planner. Thank you."

Everyone applauded and stomped heartily as she left the podium, except her father who added energetic whistling to his applause. Spitfire was happy for her, and got so lost in her congratulating that she almost forgot her own anxiety for one fleeting moment before the administrator retook the podium.

"And finally, the award for MVP of Junior Speedsters goes to… Team Captain Spitfire!"

She felt the tension burst into elation as she went to take her place at the podium, priding herself on doing so much more calmly than Ditzy had. "Thank you, thank you. I want to start off saying that we had a great racing season team-wide."

Cheers rose from the Speedsters.

"It's been great, these years I've had with you guys, and I'll be sorry to leave you all."

“Awww”s issued forth.

"But I'll be leaving you in the very capable, talented hooves of Soarin here, and I hope you all come and see me next year after graduation when I compete, for my first year, for Best Young Flier."

Everyone cheered and applauded her as she returned to her seat, her mother stomping along quietly. Ditzy gave her a clap on the back.

"How will I get through senior year without you?"

"Ha. Well, you'll just have to cope."

Ditzy's grin faltered. "Seriously… I'm gonna miss you, you know? But I'll be there to see you win that crown." She gave a soft chuckle, then engulfed her in a quick hug which Spitfire didn't try to resist.

Her eyes got a bit teary, but she was still smiling. "I haven't graduated yet, Ditz. Save the goodbyes for then, all right?" Ditzy broke away from her as a short, yellow-orange pony with a russet mane and a camera approached the table.

"Hey, everypony, lemme get a quick shot of you guys for the local section."

The ponies at her table excitedly posed for the camera, relishing the chance for fame.

"Excellent. Hold it there…."

The shutter clicked and the flash hurt her vision.

Ditzy faded back into reality, and realized she was grinning. She didn't understand; why was Spitz so reluctant to tell her this? She liked having a fillyhood, even if she didn't remember all of it. Her headache was only a dull throb, and she felt… more full, more whole, with these memories reclaimed. The feeling of fillyhood seemed less odd to her, her face in the picture looked a little less strange.

"I don't get it." Rainbow Dash was frowning. "What does you winning Best Young Flier have to do with Ditzy?"

Spitfire gave her a knowing smile. "Well, that's just the thing..."

She turned the page, where a white ribbon entitled "5th place" stood opposite a page torn out of a weekly planner.

"I didn't win. Man, that was one of the worst days. I was so depressed after that…"

Just finishing a day at the factory, a dark grey unicorn with a pale, blue-white mane and a stack of coins cutie mark floated a loaf of bread over to the table as he sat down heavily. He was scowling. His job was simply dreadful, and the pay so meager for such a degrading occupation. But he was used to degradation, as evidenced by his less-than-stellar Manehattan apartment. Idly, he levitated the newspaper over from the coffee table, and dropped the bread in shock as he read the headline: FAMOUS FLYER DITZY DOO DISCUSSES WONDERBOLTS IN SECRET WITH TEAM LEADER SPITFIRE. He read the article rapidly, and when he was finished, his scowl had turned to a fevered grin. So she'd been found, had she? His dinner forgotten, he moved to the bedroom and levitated a suitcase out of his closet. He transferred some clothes from his drawers, in case he had need of them, but more importantly to cover up the dagger that followed the clothes into the suitcase. And she had a daughter...