To Live, Love and Die in the Sky

by Akashic Brony

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Spitfire, Gilda, Tragedy, Adventure, Wonderbolts, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Soarin
Length: 11716

At day’s end, the Wonderbolt are an advanced aerial combat squadron. When Soarin seeks more to life, he inadvertently befriends an enemy flyer, Gilda. Can their love overcome their differences? You decide.

At day’s end, the Wonderbolt are an advanced aerial combat squadron. Few think of the future in the precious moments between and before death defying missions. When Soarin seeks more to life, he inadvertently befriends an enemy flyer, Gilda. Can their love overcome their differences? You decide.

Executive Editor Ignis

Published 2014-10-17 20:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-24 19:05:30 UTC

Chapter 1 To Live, Love and Die in the Sky

I hear shrill shrieks from more Griffins joining the fray. The devil birds are Odin’s Ravens, an elite enemy unit distinguished by the flickering ebony cloaks tied to them. We are Pegasi of the Wonderbolts, also an elite unit. We might have matched them one of one but the enemy has triple our number. It is the dog fight of our lives, the stuff you tell your children about… that is if you live to have children.

I wish I could join my comrades in combat; but I am the reason they’re fighting. Strapped to my chest is a camera, inside that is the precious film. Each of their sacrifices would have meant for nothing if those pictures were lost.

“Soarin, they’re on my tail!” cried the pony next to me.

Behind us a squad of four Ravens sheared through the air following our jet stream.

“Shake them, Misty!” I shouted between breaths. I am immediately sorry that I did.

In my slightest lapse, a Griffin closes in on me with his lance touching my tail tip. Misty does her duty as my wing pony and protects me by shoving the Griffin from its mark. Offset by her hit and in max speed the Griffin careens towards the ground. However, by attacking Misty loses valuable momentum and is beset by our pursuers.

Misty Fly is my wing pony and in a blur she’s no longer there. I looked back in horror. A wing of hers was sheared off by a passing Griffin’s lance. Plummeting down, her beads of blood leave a trail like so many precious sparkling red rubies.

“Help!!!” Screaming, she disappeared into the darkness beneath the canopy of the forest. One of the Raven squad broke off of me to finish her. Guiltily, I am thankful Misty’s sacrifice had taken two angry Griffin off my tail.

I wince at the situation’s cruelty. I could not help her because I cannot help myself. Two of the Raven Elite still hunt me, relentlessly. With one well strike or even nick they could offset the delicate flight instruments of my wings and I too would share Misty’s fate. I haven’t the breath to curse the enemy for the loss of my squad.

I violently veer side to side, hoping to shake them off. The Ravens match my every turn. Failing to out-maneuver them, I give all my muscle power to my wings. My raw speed seems for a moment to be prevailing. I gain enough distance to catch a single breath. Then the Ravens discard their vanity cloaks and give renewed pursuit.

I am beyond bucked. I wondered whether the Ravens’ cloaks were weighted for training because in mere moments the unhindered Griffins are once more closing in for the kill. This is my limit, I cannot possibly put more than my all. I had broken off from the main battle; I was so close to escaping. I looked up at the sun and prayed to Celestia for an ever loving miracle.

Answering my call comes another caw. Streaking from the sun, another Griffin flies towards me.

I cried out, recognizing the feather pattern. “Gilda?!”

As she races towards me, I am uncertain whether she is salvation or damnation. Would she be my Valkyrie or would she end me?

Two Weeks ago…

Being a Wonderbolt is everything: the fame of having an entire fandom, the fortune of having a paycheck in the six digits, and meeting legends. Again, being a Wonderbolt is everything: the highly monitored dietary requirements, the extensive training that leaves aches that won’t go away, and meeting legends. I was like any other colt, not when I started to fly but when I just started to learn how to glide with my wings, I dreamed of being the best: a stunt flyer, aerial combat specialist and celebrity: a Wonderbolt.

Living the dream is addictive. My spot on the Wonderbolt team was opened when another pony ‘retired’. However, as I passed the embittered stallion, whose place I was taking, he spoke to me and told me. “Wonderbolts don’t retire, kid. They burn out. Like comets streaking across the sky to dusty death.” I thought it was apt his name was Comet Fall. As I continued on though, his words lingered in my head, especially now as I plodded pass the same lockers where that scene played out.

“Where are you going, stud?”

My thoughts are interrupted as Spitfire slams a hoof against the locker in front of me, blocking my path. She was the legendary Spitfire, the same one that colts across Equestria have a pin up poster of in their rooms. I had her poster once. I still do but it’s faded and folded away now. We aren’t supposed to be on speaking terms when off duty.

I sigh, sorrowfully. “Spitfire, I don’t want to do this.”

Spitfire cocks a brow. “Soarin, come on. You’re my Lieutenant.” She winks flirtatiously. “I’m your Captain, you’re supposed to get behind me, you know?”

There were days long past when I would have jumped her, I resist now knowing where it all ends. Our careers left little time for romance, even though it was forbidden, Spitfire and I sought convenient comfort. With Spitfire though, once the passion of the moment had fizzled out, there was no cuddling and any talk of a ‘future’ together was taboo. The dream girl soon became a hollow vision. Each time I felt used and discarded.

“Spitfire, I can’t keep doing this. I told you last time.”

Spitfire snorts. “Buck up. Stop acting like a mare. I need this and you need this. Any moment we could be called up for an emergency, the next moment we could be dead. Don’t you want to have a little fun before that?”

She’s a demon that whispers sweet temptation in my ears. I expend most my willpower to say what I have to say. “I want love. I want for us to have foals. I want it to mean something. I thought it meant something at first but you don’t care.”

Spitfire frowns. “Soarin… I do care... I’m not that bad am I?” She tries to drape a wing around me. I rebuffed her.

A long simmering tension boils over and I address something that had always left a hurt in me. “Is that why for the Equestria Games, you found my replacement in less than two days I was injured?”

She defensively plants her hooves. “It would have been a national embarrassment if we lost. There were political ramifications. We couldn’t afford to look weak, especially to the athletes from the Griffin Kingdoms. There was a lot more riding than your pride.”

I bite bitterly with my words. “You’re always right and the mission always comes first.”

She nearly growls. “You think you can do better?”

“I wouldn’t treat my subordinates like dirt. I was angry that you planned to replace me, I was more angry that you lied. I would at least have the decency to tell someone to their face when they’re being replaced. I wouldn’t go around their back!”

She counters. “Would it have mattered? You read the contract, you signed, didn’t you? We’re all expendable. We have a duty to Equestria!”

“If I’m so replaceable, find someone else to rut with.”

Spitfire pauses for a moment then shoots back. “I will! I can have five stallions in my bed than less five seconds! I’m Spitfire! I’m the bucking dream! I was on the cover of Playpony magazine twice!”

“You won’t have me. Whoever you choose next to bed, I hope they’re too stupid and dumb to see the real you! I quit!”

Spitfire rages. “Soarin, I’m your Captain! You can’t quit! I’ll have your pension!”

“Keep the blood money!”

“You’re fired!”

As I walk out, I heard her sobs. It took ten steps out of the barracks before I too broke down. I remind myself if I turned back, I would always be secondary in her heart and that I couldn’t live like that. The part of me that loved/loves Spitfire is overridden by my greater pain. Behind the glitz and glamour, we’re horrible people. Some of us even took to bedding fans with one night stands. To cure the loneliness of a night, they would ruin the lives of many. I wonder how much of it is our lifestyles and how much of is just abuse of power? Moving from mission to mission, gig to gig, our nomadic ways I suppose didn’t foster the sense of commitment I wanted.

In the air, I’m free. Flying, I’m weightless and the world’s problems are below me. Usually I would challenge and train by fighting the air currents, yet today I let them carry me. Listlessly I float on towards a destination, unknown. I let my mind blank. With clarity I return to my earliest thoughts of flying when I just flew for its own sake. When it wasn’t for a mission, a stunt show, or training, the pure sensations of being aloft were enough.

Perhaps my tongue took the reins, I find myself in a local bar on the outskirts of Ponyville. I know the bar keep, Berry Punch, and she knows my preference. She serves me a frothy mug of hard alcoholic apple cider. I nurse my drink and troubles. Without my uniform, I’m just another pony. Still I hang out in the dark corner booth lest some rabid fan recognizes me. Watching the world from the ground is a lot more personal than watching from the air. I’m startled though when an exotic patron enters into the bar.

A female Griffin wearing a black cloak, throws a clatter of coins onto the bar counter. Her words are demands. “Give me something hard. I hate walking down this stupid memory lane.”

Berry Punch nods and pours a mug for the Griffin.

The Griffin tips the mug and unloads it all down her beak without tasting. With a belch she demands another. “Give me more.”

Berry Punch grimaces and grudgingly pours when more coins land on the table.

The entire bar’s patrons are staring at her. She notices and whips around glaring with her yellow predatory eyes. “What are you looking at?!”

The fear she projects causes all the other patrons to look away and mind their own business. Perhaps I took too long to disengage my eyes but the Griffin swaggers towards me with her mug still in her claws.

She spits her beer breath in my face. “I don’t like the shade of blue on your coat.”

I’m tired of rolling over. I meet her predatory eyes. “Buck off, I just jumped off one abusive relationship.”

She unexpectedly softens her gaze and hops in the opposite seat of my corner booth. “Well that makes two of us.”

We don’t talk, she sits and drinks. I have an urge to find another seat away from the Griffin but her lonesome look as she swirls her mug around convinces me otherwise. Despite my misgivings, I attempt small talk.

“What brings you around here?”

She lifts the camera hanging around her neck. “Job, I work for how you say… a tourist company. They want aerial photos of this stupid country to show their clients. I got picked because when I was a fledging I was once an exchange student to pony land.”

“The country is called Equestria and this town is Ponyville. If you’re photographer you should know that.” I corrected.

She takes a big gulp. “Yeah, whatever, dweeb.”

I laughed a little. The hard drinking Griffin, using such adorably immature pejorative seems to soften her image by fathoms.

“What you laughing at?”

I’m still giggling slightly. “Dweeb? What are you a school yard bully? You going to call me an ‘egghead’ next? How old are you?”

She balks then growls. “You— you! I’m old enough to be in the military!” She reaches in the under her feathers and pulls a cross medal necklace to show me. She presses the medal to my muzzle and says. “For bravery.”

I’m not convinced. The foreign medal is different from any I’ve seen. There’s no point of relation to verify if it’s at all genuine. I smirk. “Is that real, feather ball?”

“Feather ball?” She blushes then snarls waving the medal. “Of course, it’s real!”

Her flustered blustering is only endearing. I tease her further. “Are you old enough to be drinking at this establishment, young lady?”

She folds her claws and puffs up angrily. “Go sit elsewhere, you jerk.”

I snort. “I’m not moving, this was my booth to begin with.”

The Griffin gives a shrill caw. “Barkeep, more hard cider!”

After several more rounds. I find out her name is Gilda in between bits of her slurred speech. Her friendliness seems to be related to her alcohol intake. By the fourth, she mentions having an affair with a “Reagle Hawkmor”. I don’t believe for second she’s dated the Griffin King. By the fifth, she’s making passes at nearly everypony at the bar. She’s apparently indiscriminate concerning whether those she propositions are male or female. By the sixth, she’s leapt onto my side of the booth and calls me ‘Rainbow Dash’. I’m pushing her off and finding the lion strength in Griffins is apparently true.

Berry Punch approaches me as Gilda rubs her feathery head affectionately against me. “Soarin, I think it’s best you take her home.”

I sigh and try to extract myself from her claws. “She’s not my type. We just met.”

“Not that way, you sleaze.” Berry harshly reprimands me. “A couple of stallions have already offered to take her. I don’t trust them the least bit. I thought you were honorable enough.”

Berry makes me consider Gilda as a romantic partner. I dismiss the notion quickly, but the afterthought lingers like the taste of Berry’s beer.

Berry snorts. “I gotta close shop, I’m dead tired. Come on, Soarin. You’re the only one I know who isn’t going to do something stupid.”

Her trust makes me want to challenge her. I’m not so old and past my prime. “What makes you want to trust me?”

She smiles. “You’re dating Spitfire, which colt would risk that for anything?”

“I’m not with her anymore.”

Berry gives me a sad sympathetic look. “She broke up with you… I’m so sorry.”

Her assumption gives me a sour flavor. I grimaced and stand on my feet and emphasize my words. “I broke up with her weeks ago. She just hasn’t gotten the memo.” It took me ages to work up the courage to break up with Spitfire and I would be damned if my act of personal freedom was mistaken for her dumping me.

“Okay,” Berry says, softly.

“I don’t know where Gilda lives. She’s a tourist apparently.” I pick up Gilda and wake her from her nap. The Griffin stirs a little.

Berry points to a building near the bar. “Take her to a motel room. She has a change purse, use that.”

“Alright.”

I can’t fly her to my apartment in Canterlot, not in her condition. I decide to pony up the bits and rent us a room at an inn. We are granted room number seven. I wish the first room was available so I could sooner deposit her.

As I carry her on my back, Gilda is bubbly and happy. “You’re alright, Mr… um…”

“Soarin, I told you fifteen minutes ago and fifteen before that.”

She coos. “I’m so lonely.”

Ignoring her I continue, before she started rubbing my wings with her freakish claws.

Gilda hiccups as she massages my wings. “Ponies can’t resist when I do this.”

I bounce her on my back to get her to lay off my stiffening wings. I am glad when the number seven comes up.

The room is small and with a window. Moon light flickers through the transparent curtains. I curse the ambience being set so right. As I try to set Gilda onto the bed, she pulls me with her.

“Please let go.”

Gilda chirps. “No, I haven’t had so much fun in a while.” She sprawls out on the bed and gives me that ‘come hither’ stare that melts male minds.

I can’t say I wasn’t tempted but alcohol reeks from her beak. Being used and using others isn’t my way, it would only continue the cycle of abuse. I reiterate. “I’m not going to take advantage of you. You’re not yourself. Get some sleep.”

Her eyes pleading and her beak quivering she asks me gently. “I don’t want sex… just hold me. Let me feel loved. I don’t want to be a forgotten episode in someone’s life.”

“Okay,” I say, cautiously.

I don’t why I acquiesced but in the end, I held her until she fell deep asleep. The weariness of the day taking me, her warmth lulls me, too, to the land of dreams.

The sun’s rays somehow slide past the blinders of that small hotel room. It’s the first time I’ve sleep in for years. I can almost hear Spitfire’s angry drill sergeant rants. Floating in between lucidity and unconsciousness, I reflect as I never have before. School, academy, and career, in life we trade one routine for another, but life itself is spontaneity. Have I just been going through the motions of living? Am just a background character? Maybe we’re all background dressing for the greater world; I refuse to a background character in my life and story.

I turn my head towards Gilda, resting in my hooves; there was something bestial and feral about the Griffin. She was a wild wind and last night I was caught by her breeze. As I hold her I feel behind her feathers was her heart that was beating to its own beat and pumping her hot blood. Uncompromising, she was a person of passion and that came at a cost. Yet the vulnerabilities and insecurities she showed me I find to be the best aspects of her. She was real.

I let my thoughts slip me back to sleep. I snuggle closer to my ‘feather pillow’.

Instead of a rooster cry I’m awoken by the screech of an angry hawk. Gilda squawks shoving me off the bed. I hit the floor with a thump.

Gilda pulls the bed sheets towards her as if to protect her chastity. “You bastard! You got me drunk and had your way didn’t you?!”

Still groggy, I groan. “Gilda, I—”

“How do you know my name, dweeb?!” She leaps on me.

My eyes shot open as I’m gagged by a set of Griffin claws.

“I’m going to kill ya!” Her eyes sharpen as she squeezes.

“Check the sheets!” I choke out.

Gilda releases my throat and I gasp for breath.

Using her claws she frantically felt the bed sheets. The gears in her head seem to finally click in place. Gilda sighs when she finds they are clean.

I am still feeling my throat. “You’re crazy.” I clamber away and push open the door.

“Hey, come back here!”

Again I’m bolting away. I had it with crazy mares and now a Griffin assaults me. I take to wing; flying is the only thing I know.

Gilda caws after me. “Stop running away!”

I retort. “I’m not running, I’m flying away!”

I don’t know how but she keeps up with me.

Gilda squawks. “That’s the same thing, dweeb!”

“Whatever, feather ball!”

“Buck you!” She makes a strange gesture with her middle claw.

I shake my head and fly on.

She then cries. “I got a wing cramp! Help!”

Turning my head I see her falling from the sky as a wing of hers scrunches up. She flails helplessly as she plummets. “Hold on, Gilda!” I swiveled about and dive to catch her. As I catch her, she catches me by surprise.

Gripping and wrapping me by her strong claws, she coos in my ears. “Gotcha, you do-gooder!”

Deploying her massive wings she pulls us both from the dive. Using a dirt beaten road as a landing runway she puts us on the ground. I’m still held in her clutches though. Falling for the wounded gazelle gambit, I am embarrassed. Gilda has me pinned beneath her.

Gilda bit her beak. “Hey, I’m sorry. I drive everyone away.”

I grit my teeth as she is still atop of me. “I wonder why.”

“You were super cool. I was the lame-o. You gave me the time of day, others wouldn’t. I want to make it up to you.”

I try again to shake her off. “Seriously, we’re golden, just get off of me.”

“I’m taking you out on a date,” Gilda declared, “You should feel honored to be with someone as cool as me.”

“Do I have a choice? I just got out a bad relationship.”

Gilda releases me. The conceit of her confidence breaks down. “I’m not that bad am I?”

I recall Spitfire saying something similar and an image of her flashes in my mind. I don’t why it does but it paralyzes me. I just stand not looking at Gilda but looking through her. I recovered shaking my head. “You nearly strangled me to death.”

She sorrowfully lowers her head. “I’m possessive I like to hold onto things I like. I lash out even at the ones I care about. I had tons of time to think about this. Like seasons! I spent a lot of winters alone… I’m sorry.”

A minute ago I wanted to fly on and I am still free to do so. I should be rejoicing and fleeing but the expectant look Gilda gives me freezes me in place. She seems genuinely on the cusp of tears hanging upon my answer.

Gilda grits her beak while nervously stroking her claws. “So?”

I’ve got my own existential crisis; I quit my dream job a day ago. Gilda still shows a degree of naivety. I know if I just spring for it so would she. I explain my status and give her an option. “Gilda, you’re young and confused. I just quit my steady job a day ago; I’m still bleeding from scars of that. I’m not the sort you want to date.”

Gilda threw her head back coolly. “Maybe you are. Don’t think you know me either. I’ve seen things; you soft ponies have nightmares about.”

“Have you seen a mid-air collision split a pony in two?”

The boisterous Griffin becomes suddenly somber and serene. “Two words: Zebrika Campaign.”

She puffs up proudly. The aerial combat portion of being a Wonderbolt isn’t something that’s played up. I’m a veteran and I’ve seen many others. There’s a certain look in their eyes. She just dropped ‘Zebrika Campaign’. I’ve heard about the bloody wars there. I peer into Gilda’s yellow eyes and find the look lacking that innocent shine that I see in new recruits. Yet there is luster still, one that I am not able to find for myself in a mirror. I nod silently.

At least somehow I got my morning exercise routine by fleeing from Gilda. I find myself sweating more as we walk in tandem. Gilda struts through the streets like she a conquering queen.

I hope she doesn’t eat anyone. “What do you want to eat? I don’t think any Ponyville restaurants has meat on its menu.”

“We can eat nuts too. We can even handle your pony food provided you fry it enough. Anyway, pick a joint and we’ll chow and maybe get a drink.” She experimentally tries my name. “Soarin?”

I smirk. “I’m surprised you remember my name with how much you drank last night.”

Gilda puffs up and beats her chest. “Ha, you can’t drink the water where I come from. We run off rum.”

It was explained to me once by another. I recall and repeat. “Hmmm yeah… the Neighponese drink tea, the boiling sterilizes it. Griffins drink rum, the alcohol would sterilize the rum.”

My nerdy knowledge compels her to caw. “Dweeb!” Gilda hits me with a light punch of her claws.

I don’t think I’m much smarter than most ponies. I feel that maybe the Griffin education system is rather poor. “Feather ball.” I retort rubbing her chest feathers.

She blushes and scrunches up her feathers stick out confirming my statement. She looks about and then spots a building with a large sign of a milkshake and burger atop of it. Gilda directs with a claw. “How about that place?”

My training regimen didn’t allow for junk food, I was even chewed out for eating an apple pie once. It was a shame too, the vendor caught my eye, an orange earth pony she was well muscled. Maybe in another life, I’d have chased down her name and her. At the Hay Burger I splurge and order up a mess of hay fries with some coffee for the headache I suspect might have been oxygen deprivation when she was strangling me. Gilda goes with a soda and doubles the order of fries along with some burgers for us. Sitting opposite Gilda, I recall the power she had when she held me down at that motel. It lends further credence to her claim about being a veteran.

I try to recall my studies of Griffins to make small talk. “I read that Griffins are divided into noble houses. Which Griffin Bird House are you from: Ironclaw, Bloodtalon, or Hawkmor?”

She smacks her own face with her claws. “Bloody Hawkmor, really? I almost I got into an arranged marriage with their heir. It’s long stupid story. Don’t ask.”

I take a hay fry. “Okay, not those then.”

“House Goldfeather, duh! Gilded, Gilda, get it?”

I nod; the connection is a logical one and that I had made already but I leave her to explain the details.

“They’re merchants mostly. They love counting their coin. I broke away from the lot of them after that arranged marriage thing flew south. How about you?”

I consider my humble origins. “My family is nothing to boast about. We’ve a strong tradition in the military though. My dad was in the regular air corp.”

“Ah, I read about you guys. Pegasi used to be Weather Warlords. If you ask me you all should have just kept at it and conquered the rest of these ponies.”

The illustrious tales of Commander Hurricane and the Pegasi tribe were tales told far and wide. “I’ll be sure to tell my great-great-great-grandparents to do that. So I heard you Griffins have technology.”

Gilda dismissively waves a claw. “The sorcerers of science, yeah those dweebos make some cool stuff even if they’re all books and no looks. Our airships and cannons conquered countries. Blah blah, give me a good dog fight any day.”

Again Gilda mentions military history. “Which unit did you serve?”

She smiles, dangerously. “I’m still serving. You didn’t see the black cloak. I’m a Raven?” She cuffs her claws over her chest and chants. “By Odin’s grace, messengers of his will: we deliver death!”

I nearly spit out my coffee. She being an active soldier and part of a select group wasn’t what I was expecting. Ravens were a rival company created by the Griffin Kingdoms to counter the Wonderbolts. There was even one or two team meeting sessions concerning their tactics if we were ever called to swat them from the skies. “Is that so?”

Gilda is mired in self-reflection and doesn’t notice my tiny panic attack. She rubs her neck feathers. “Don’t laugh, or I’ll kill ya. I sort had this revenge fantasy. My stupid ex, she wanted to become a Wonderbolt. I trained hard to become a Raven in response. It’s lame, I know, but I was hoping we might even meet in battle one day.”

I ask her with no small amount of nervousness. “You realize, I’m… I mean I was a Wonderbolt.”

Gilda smiles and shrugs. “I know, Lieutenant Soarin. My ex was a big fan girl of yours. Yeah, forgive me if I don’t fawn over you. I could care less.”

Her revelation startles me. “Wait, you knew all along who I was?”

Gilda cutely coos. “Your butt tat told me that.” Gilda points a claw at my cutie mark. “You ponies are easy to tell out. Last night I saw you so depressed, I decided to pick on you. I was feeling the same… I wanted you to feel worse. Sorry, I’m terrible like that.”

In light of her being an enemy agent, I couldn’t care less about much else. I blurt out. “Why are you really taking photos of Equestria?!”

Gilda flicks a hay fry into my still open mouth. She shirks the question by taking a big slurp of her soda. “You said you quit.”

I stare her down. “Consider me patriotic.”

Gilda laughs. “They’re just some pictures you can get anywhere. Seriously I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to let me take pictures of your bases. It’s not like the Griffin Kingdoms are at war with you guys, anyway. Chill, be cool.”

I relax slightly. She was right. A thought then emerges.

I returned from a souvenir stand and give her the bag. Gilda guffaws as she holds a stack of postcards in her claws.

“There, your aerial photos. They’re public so I guess it’s okay giving them to you.”

She smiles, flipping through cards. “Dude, you save me a week’s work. My mission has just become a vacation. You’re awesome!”

“Great, I’ve just aided and abetted the enemy.” I turn to her, half laughingly ask. “Gilda, you’re not going to bomb Ponyville are you?”

She waves a claw. “Bah, our War Wings don’t have the range. We can’t carry enough black blood stone to burn all the way here. Plus, the ‘current’ king favors peace.”

“What are you going to do with your free time?”

“When I was an exchange student, I didn’t get to visit all the places. Well, since you’re out of a job. How about you be my tour guide for the week?” Gilda produces a travel brochure with Equestria’s highlights.

“A week long date? Seriously, don’t you think we’d end up hating each other at the end?”

Gilda smiles. “You’re different, I’m telling you things I don’t say to my squadron wing partner… it hasn’t been that way for a long time. It’ll be fun, like living together at an academy.”

My resistance is waning quicker than I anticipated. Finally I agree with a smile.

They say time flies when in good company. Gilda and I breeze through our time together. We see Canterlot, Appleloosa, and even the Crystal Empire. The tour tests our wings but we make it to all of the locations on her brochure. On our last day we return to where we started in Ponyville.

It’s noon and we skip stones by the local lake after a picnic. Throwing rocks and letting them skim across the surface was so juvenile but utterly cathartic. Gilda cheers her long throws. I let her gloat, I don’t have claws to match hers.

It is our last day before Gilda has to return to her post. The mysterious ‘ex’ of Gilda’s has me intrigued. She mentions it in passing at times but we never directly address. “Gilda, tell me about her.”

The Griffin takes many moments before she responds. “Tell anyone anything and I’ll eat your heart.”

I roll my eyes, her little threats I know now are full of hot air. Nevertheless, I straighten myself and nod. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Gilda sighs and closes her eyes. “Her name is Rainbow Dash. We met when we were Junior Speedsters. I was an exchange student, she became my only friend. I loved her. I thought she loved me, but turns out I’m not as good as her team of friends. I knew I was a jerk back then… but she didn’t even send me a letter afterwards...”

She shared similar mannerisms and some speech patterns with Rainbow, it was now obvious in hindsight. I had heard once Rainbow called an engineer an ‘egghead’ which was an obvious Griffin expression. “Wait a second, the Rainbow Dash? Umm she’s a Wonderbolt Captain.” I remember seeing a recruit with a pin up poster of Rainbow Dash. The newest Captain of the Wonderbolts was world famous; her entry had been guaranteed by her accomplishments before she even applied.

Gilda caws. “Don’t rub it in… I’m only a lieutenant in the Ravens. I swear I’ll make captain one day!” She shakes her claws angrily I the air, pantomiming some diabolical villain. I’m less impressed as she deflates so soon after.

“I mean, we’re a flight away. She’s training and testing prospective recruits at the academy. You could see her right today. I’ll go with you for support.”

Gilda shakes her head. “It wouldn’t matter. It’s been way too long. The scar has healed. I don’t want to open it again. The temptation to enact my revenge fantasy would be too great. Plus, you’re better than a dozen Rainbows.”

“My coat color is shade away from hers. You even called me Rainbow during the drunken night we met.”

She’s huffing mad. “Hey, look here! I’m over her!”

I challenge her. “Then speak with her. Clear the air.”

“Talking doesn’t solve everything…I…”

“I’ll be with you all the way.”

We’re at the Wonderbolt Academy and what seems like several wing beats even with Gilda making a stop to pick up her black cloak. The sentries recognize me and we gain admittance. I step through the doors into Rainbow Dash’s office while leaving Gilda outside so that I could make the introduction.

Rainbow rises from behind her desk as I walk in. “Lieutenant Soarin?”

It’s a remarkable rise in how a fan filly became a Captain. I haven’t interacted with Rainbow much with her overseeing training. With my seniority and now her present position, she over ranks me… or over ranked me. I then remember I had quit and that I am spared giving an awkward salute.

Rainbow doesn’t seem to be one for formalities and doesn’t notice. “Captain Spitfire has been looking for you.”

I say with considerable coldness in my tone. “I left the Wonderbolts a week ago. It’s been a long time coming. Please don’t ask.”

“Spitfire hasn’t told me a thing,” say Rainbow raising a brow. “Now I know why she’s taken a week off.”

There is a shard of concern that stabs through to my heart and rekindles some former feelings. “Spitfire never takes vacations.”

“Yeah, I thought you two would be on honey moon or something for her to take a break.”

Apparently my involvement with Spitfire is an open secret. I internally groan. Mentally I note that I may have a problem in the future with Spitfire, but more important right now is Gilda getting closure. “Rainbow, I have someone who wants to speak with you.”

Rainbow’s eyes become wide as Gilda steps in after me.

“Gilda?” Rainbow causes the Griffin to panic when she jumps and hugs her.

“What are you doing?”

Rainbow lets go of the Griffin. “I missed you. I know you didn’t leave on the best of terms, but why didn’t you respond to my letters? I thought our time meant something to you… I actually became a bit bitter about it.”

“What?! You sent letters?!” Gilda guffaws.

Rainbow blinks. “I sent you several. I went to the Griffin embassy.”

Gilda grimaces. “My father… he must have been through my mail. Curse that jerk, he wants heirs to his damn dynasty.”

Rainbow rubs her head. “Gilda, what are you doing here?”

The Griffin awkwardly rubbed her head feathers. “I wanted to bury the hatchet. I’m sorry for all those years ago.”

“Gilda, I forgave you ages ago. I studied up on Griffin customs. When we were young you told me about problems with your father. I didn’t know it was that bad. You went to Ponyville obviously looking for a friend, I’m sorry I failed you. I should have chased after you that day.”

“No problem, we were both immature back then. I’ve grown; I can take care of myself.” Gilda flicks her cloak forward. “I had to join the Ravens to avoid my dumb dad’s scheme to marry me off for more money.”

“You’re a Raven?” Rainbow recoils.

Gilda smirks turning up her beak. “Yeah, you’re looking at one Captain Gilda Goldfeather. I could see you in the skies one day. No hard feelings, if I shoot you down.”

Rainbow pushes up her aviator glasses. “Bring it on. Ace against ace, it’ll be epic awesome. Maybe they’ll write a story about it.”

Reconciling with Rainbow has made Gilda slightly looser in her wing movements. On the return flight Gilda seems to list closer to me. When I look she corrects herself and flies back.

Gilda coos. “That was real cool. You stood by me for that. Thanks again, if I had my way I would’ve never known.”

I nod. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you could talk to her. You sure it was your dad that intercepted Rainbow’s letters?”

Gilda shakes her head. “We’re definitely not going to see my father.”

“Why not?”

“Unless you’re a rich male Griffin with perfect pedigree, my dad will literally take his claws and pull out your heart. Seriously, literally.”

I shudder at Gilda’s gripping gesture with her claws. With Gilda’s fluffy proximity, it’s easy to forget her race are natural predators. There are some battles won by not fighting. I decide to take her word and skip that. “You told Captain Dash, you were a captain too.”

Gilda laughs. “Lieutenant Soarin, believe me, I’m going to make captain happen. I’m a girl with ambition!”

At her prompt we land on a cliff overlooking Ponyville. The sun is setting and we wrap our wings around each other to admire the many hues of the horizon.

She pulls away her wing. “Soarin, my airship’s taking me back in a week. I want you to have this.” Gilda takes her beak and bites off a primary feather.

“This is…” It was an old Pegasi courtship ritual. Two lovers would share primary feathers. The particular feathers were most vital for flight, and it symbolized the highest trust. I recognized the gesture and its significance. I didn’t even know Griffins shared the custom.

Gilda blushes as she explains it. “It’s a promise; we’ll see each again, a part of me for you.”

“I know.” I motioned to bite off one of my own feathers. Gilda stops me.

“Give me your feather next time. I’ll be on leave soon, say a month from now. I’ll spend my vacation time here with you.”

“Thank, you Gilda.” I lean in for a kiss but a Griffin doesn’t have lips. Her beak leaves me confused.

“Never kissed a Griffin before?”

I shake my head.

She instructs while placing a claw behind my head and pulling me in. “You gotta go at an angle.”

Her beak is softer than I expect. Around the right edges its light cartilage. The sensation is foreign but not unwelcomed. Her freaky claws playing with my wings as she hugs me, I like a bit too much.

Gilda breaks off. “You’ll learn. I kissed you. You still haven’t kissed a Griffin. I’ll be waiting, so practice.”

Gilda caws back as she flies off. “Don’t go using my feather as a quill, dweeb!”

My week with Gilda was over. In her absence I feel empty. The hours, minutes, seconds slow. I go through routine again. Time slides on though thinking back it is blur waiting for that when she might return. Her feather is locked safely in a trophy case, though I would never consider her a trophy. I recalled in disgust some Wonderbolts competing to collect feathers from fans they’d bed and leave. I looked to the case left of Gilda’s feather. I had shoved into the dusty and dark corner of the shelf. Inside was a yellow feather belonging to Spitfire.

I was there when Gilda made peace with Rainbow Dash. Perhaps I could get her to help me talk to Spitfire. She was my old flame, thinking of Spitfire brought back the burn. Maybe it was heart burn from the junk food. I knew it wasn’t. I entered the Wonderbolts a little later than her. It was late enough though I had her posters from when she became the subject of every aspiring colts’ fantasies. Entering the Wonderbolts was helped by me chasing her tail, motivating me to pass the grueling trials. That sweet success swiftly turned sour.

There were months then afterward I worked to be in her specific squadron then onto her personal team. When I became her lieutenant I had jumped for joy. My first night, I felt the world was right. Then the progress stopped. She kept me away from the last distance. My devotion and attention was burned away as she kept denying me her heart while keeping my body. I couldn’t stand it. I then tried to break off relations. She held on, ordering me to be in situations where we would be forced into contact. I set terms then and only by threatening her career I got her to agree.

My wakeup call is the pounding at my apartment door. I had enough sense in time to know it was too early for Gilda. The knocking is at first measured but as I walk towards the door it becomes more frantic. I swing the door inwardly. With my weary eyes I see Spitfire. She noticeably absent of her flight or officer dress uniform.

“Spitfire?”

Seeing her naked in public is jarring enough, but her gentle and soft tone of voice just hits me. “Soarin… I need you.”

I bar the door. “No,” I said, sternly.

Spitfire winces in pain but continues in a more professional tone. “Equestria needs you. There’s a big military operation planned, we need all our best flyers. They’re even calling in recently retired legends…”

“How big?”

“The biggest. Along with the creepy bat pony captain, Princess Luna herself is overseeing it. They won’t even tell the other Captains the details. This is something larger than us.”

“Why me?”

Spitfire rubs her forelegs in embarrassment. “I can’t find a Lieutenant of your skill on such short notice.”

“Two conditions.”

Spitfire nods. “Name them.”

“We lead different squads and after this I’m through. I’m retiring for real.” I thought of Gilda when said those words.

“Okay,” said Spitfire.

“Is there anything more?” I see Spitfire struggling with words. “No?” I slam the door but notice it’s still open. Spitfire has her hoof wedged in.

“Wait!” she cries out in pain.

“We’re not talking about our personal lives!” I slam again. She doesn’t relent and her hoof hit again.

Spitfire is steadfast in her voice and her hoof. “You’re going to have to break my hoof if you want me out. I just need you to listen.”

Sighing I allow her entry into my apartment.

I am in no mood for her advances and I lay it out. If Spitfire was a male instead of a mare, she might have gotten a prison sentence for the things she’s done to me. “Touch me and I’m pushing you out.”

I notice she doesn’t even care about the sore red indent on her hoof. I soften only slightly.

“I’m not here for… that. I have something I need to say.”

She hasn’t tackled me yet. I grumble. “Alright, go on.”

Spitfire with weak eyes stares me in the face. “Soarin… I’m so sorry.” She pleads on. “That dream of yours… about living in cottage surrounded by our foals: I’d be up for that. You want foals? I’d give up this perfect athlete’s body for you. Everything you want. I’ll even wear a wedding dress.”

So unlike the confident captain, her words and tone ambush me. My head is now heady with a cocktail of emotions. Those are words I never expected from ‘Captain’ Spitfire. The words don’t even register for a full minute. I ask for confirmation. “Spitfire, what are you saying?”

“Soarin, you mean so much more to me than just a tumble in the sack. I’ve been an idiot to neglect your feelings. I didn’t want to commit because I was afraid of ruining my career. Regulations mean we can’t openly do what we did.”

“There’s no regulations… after this mission I retire. Plus you’re a career mare, you’re married to your job.”

“You won’t be secondary in my heart. After this mission I intend to retire too, if you’ll have me… I love you.” She strains her voice to say. “…but I understand if you won’t take me back. I’ll accept that.”

These weren’t the tired excuses of a husband who beat his wife then made halfhearted apologies only to do it again. I detected her absolute sincerity, it was the first time she even mentioned ‘love’. Her offering retirement was inconceivable to me if I considered the old Spitfire. Perhaps my week away had brought upon changes on her as they came to me. An unconditional surrender was unexpected to say the least from Spitfire. I scratch my mane. I can’t rationalize much of anything right now. The best I can do to reply is tell I’d consider it. “Maybe after the operation, I could think on this more.”

Spitfire nods. “I’m willing to wait. You’re worth it. If this coming mission is as dangerous as the hype, it’ll give me a reason to survive.”

The combination of three races’ cooperation had produced Equestria’s Cloud Carriers, our first airship. Earth pony engineering for machinery, Pegasi cloud generators for lift, and Unicorn energy for power, the airship was a technical and magical marvel. Aboard we shuffle to the war room where our orders were to be given.

Princess Luna and her bat pony captain, Nightshade, stand at the front of the war room. I sit beside Spitfire as the presentation begins. A projector flickers as we watch a slideshow.

Captain Nightshade begins by showing us slides of Griffin airships. “The Griffin Kingdoms’ War Wing airships only have the coal capacity to defend their native skies. Our treaty with them limits both our airships and theirs to a certain tonnage. We have reason the suspect that they’re building something beyond their typical War Wings. They’re calling it a Dreadnought.”

Luna speaks in the olden style; her words’ intensity and clarity are artistry. “Indeed, according to what hast been gleamed from our spies, tis a monstrosity. Worse still is our ignorance of its truest size and capability. What written upon paper matters naught but conjecture. Thou art to confirm. ” She turns off the projector.

Captain Nightshade continues. “The ship’s being built at their airship yard base at Avaris. It is to be a dusk operation for full fidelity of the photos time so that the onset of evening will be your cover to escape. In the time between daylight and the curtain of evening you’ll be exposed. At all cost you are to take those photos. With the photos we can leverage the truth against the Griffins. Even should we lose squads, they can’t use their bodies to bring us to international court at risk of revealing that they’re violating the treaty.”

Princess Luna gives finishing remarks. “Hark, elite flying squadron of the Wonderbolts. Hear mine words and know their import. Thy skills shall be sorely tested and not all shall survive. Should that thou be too injured to return, thou art advised to fold thy wings and fall to save thee from interrogation.” Some of the Wonderbolts winced at the mention of a once mandatory ancient tradition abolished for cruelty.

“Recall that thou hath beaten the Griffins once before so long ago in wars for thy very existence. Pegasi, thou art Weather Warlords, the skies are thine battlefield!”

The beginnings of applause are interrupted. To our amazement Princess Luna then lowers her head and bows. “May the flight of Valkyries sing thee to thy rest. Go with mine grace, warriors of wing.”

An ever loving Princess had just bowed to us; as we leave the presentation to our equipment stations, I’m filled with foreboding and dread. I swear I saw a shimmering tear fall from Luna’s cheek.

In the locker rooms as we don our uniforms, cocksure and confident, I see the facial expressions of my fellow Wonderbolts. Each of them looks at the others with pity and certainty that only he or she would be among the few to live to tell the tale. I am not so delusional, but I am surprised when I spot Spitfire staring at me with uncommon concern.

I recall the first parts all as a blur. Our mission was so simple. We moved in under rolling cloud cover generated by the forward squads. At the center of the airship yards we saw it, the Dreadnought. I snapped several shots at the mountain of metal, wondering how Griffin technology would be able to even lift the leviathan. Technology at a sufficient amount of advancement is sorcery to the ignorant. The sun was setting and it all seemed well until an unfortunate break in the clouds had let sun shine to our cameras. Luna’s grace did not save from us from the sun’s dying glimmers. The metallic glints betrayed us.

The response time, the enemy took to scramble their flyers, was murderously quick. Before any of us, knew it, there we were in the dog fight of our lives. Our fighters meshed with theirs. At first we fought as squads but as more of us fell and the desperation increased, we fought in teams of two. Finally we fought as individuals. And there I was alone. So far up in the heavens, yet we were in hell…

In real time two Ravens chase me. Slowly closing in with their lances, I can outfly them no longer. In the sun’s light then I see a figure for a moment eclipse the light. Speeding towards me, I saw her.

I cry out. “Gilda?!”

Gilda passes me and turns her lance using the stick portion she hits the two Ravens just behind me. Knocked out they drift downwards. My life was saved by twice by her single move. Seeing her at last in combat at once I am impressed and scared.

I descend and skid to the ground as I inhale big gulps of air. Gilda soon joins me in the small forest clearing.

“Fancy seeing you here, dweeb.”

“Feather—” I pant, “—ball.”

Gilda snaps at me. “What are you doing here, Soarin!? You said you quit!”

“They pulled me back in.” Spitfire did but I don’t mention her in front of Gilda.

“This is a cluster-buck!” She seems to have entered the battle in the later stages and hence more energy to talk. Gilda caws while pacing around me. “This is a full on battle. I just saw Fletcher, my wing partner, go down shrieking. It’s raining red!”

Red rain seems a very poetic way to phrase it. In the corner of eye during the battle I saw many duels end in bloody streaks falling from the skies. I remember my squad falling behind and before me. I catch enough of my breath for full sentences. “Tell me about it.”

Gilda sighs. Gloomily she caws. “I’m a Captain now… I wanted it but not this way. Those stinking ponies can fight.”

“I’m a stinking pony. Why you save me?”

Gilda points a claw in the sky. “I survived that kill zone; because I fought thinking if I lived I’d see that goofy loser’s smile again!”

I have only the energy to give a light smile. “Who? Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Gilda says, smiling back.

The air surrounding us thickens with tension. A breeze causes Gilda’s ebony Raven cloak to flicker reminding us both of our roles.

She coughs and opens her claws and gestures at the camera strapped to my chest. “Soarin… I can’t let you take that film.” She moves towards me with implicit trust that I would just give it to her.

I level my lance and keep her at a distance. “Gilda, if I give you camera. The sacrifices of my friends will mean nothing. Just forget you saw me.”

Gilda glares at my lance’s tip. It is red and rusty colored with blood dried by the wind shear of aerial combat. “I saw my squadron fall. What about my friends? You seem to have taken out one or two of them. If I give you that film, what will that mean for them, huh?”

I contemplate leaving Gilda the camera while taking the film, even with claws though I wouldn’t be able to pull off that trick in front of her keen Griffin eyes. I caught up enough of my breath, I could fight her, but by seeing her skill I know fighting would leave one of us dead. In my darkest thoughts I imagine I could take advantage of her feelings for me in the exchange of blows. I would have to first kill my feelings then kill Gilda. Giving her the camera would make me a traitor to my friends and country. Beyond Equestria, there’s still Spitfire to return to if I wanted. Spitfire’s words still hang in the back of skull even with Gilda in front of my eyes. Who did I love more? Scenarios run through my mind. It is an impossible decision to make.

The sounds of screaming ponies and Griffins grow closer. If I lingered lost in thought, the decision would be made for us when the battle caught up to where we were.

Author's Note

Does Soarin choose Gilda or Spitfire? Comment below about your choice! Two endings have been scripted. Which will be destiny? Like for more!

Decision Point

The choice is yours.

Fight Gilda: Go to Chapter 2 *link*

Leave the camera: Go to Chapter 3 *link*

Chapter 2 All that Glitters

Spitfire and I have history. I am a Wonderbolt through and through, the mark is on my fur and in my soul. I cannot betray Equestria, not even for the aching longing in my heart… for Gilda. Going with what is familiar to me, I question whether I am a coward or hero? I do not know.

I plea for her leave, I know it’s useless. “Gilda, go! I don’t want to fight you!” I level my lance at her.

Gilda recoils, as if I threw the first blow. Her hurt is visible in her weak beak. “D-D-Does it have to this way? You’d kill me over a stupid camera? I thought we meant something…”

“I’m sorry, Gilda. I have a duty to Equestria.”

“I told you stuff that I’ve told no one else. How could you dare betray me?!” She shrieks, her eyes blinded by tears and rage. “I’ll kill you!”

She lunges at me with her lance, but her attack is sloppy. I dodge it, easily. I’m astonished by her emotional state. I move to take advantage of the opening but I can’t.

“Go Gilda! Leave!”

She wipes the water from her eyes. Gilda tightens her Raven cloak. “No way. My squadron’s dead… and so is my dream!” Her attack this time is without reserve. I’ve seen her puffed up angry, but this calm fury scares me as does those hawkish eyes in firm focus.

I narrowly dodge her lance lunge. It cuts through my uniform logo onto the emblem of my flank. I line up for an attack of my own. I am actually thankful for the light wound. I concentrate on the physical pain so that I can do what I have to do.

Gilda swivels quickly for another pass. She looks at me with the same dead determination. The luster in her eyes I saw once is gone from her gaze.

“Soarin!!!” I hear a scream from the sky. Spitfire falls like a star.

Gilda flaps her wings but doesn’t maneuver quickly enough, Spitfire’s lance plunges into her chest. I notice the empty spot in her wings where she gave me her feather. That fractional difference in ability cost Gilda her life. Her blood is on my conscience. To my dying day I will not forget it was I that killed her, it would be cowardice to think otherwise.

I give Gilda a last look and to my surprise she has breath left to speak. She looks at me without predatory eyes instead they are filled with pain. “Bastard… I lov—”

I’m shell shocked as Spitfire shakes the dead Griffin off her lance. Gilda becomes another body. Tears are streaming from my face.

Spitfire yells for my attention. “Come on, Soarin! We’re not out of the hornet’s nest yet!”

I’m still stunned and stand where I am.

“I know we lost many of friends! I can’t lose anyone else! Not you! I’m not letting you die here!” Spitfire bites down on my mane and leads me away.

Those of us who survived the operation returned as triumphant heroes with accolades and medals, but few found the stomach to celebrate in light of the lost. There were many ‘symbolic’ funerals since none of the bodies could be recovered from ‘enemy’ territory. I found out later, that photos of the enemy’s new airship were worthless. Apparently the operation was ploy for the real plan where they had our ambassador secretly collect the information. It was a smokescreen to divert the attentions of the Griffins and buy the ambassador a cover story for plausible deniability. Such were the cold concerns of those in power. In the end it didn’t matter if we secured the photos. In the terms of cost it was a military disaster on both sides. The legendary battle between Wonderbolts and Elite Ravens will be a historical foot note.

In Gilda’s wake, I found comfort in Spitfire like I never had before. She gave everything she withheld when we were just ‘bucking’ for the first time we made love. There were moments where the trauma and memory of Gilda made me pause. Spitfire, never knowing the true depth or cause grief, rationalized it as from the loss of our friends on that cursed mission. She was our Captain and she too felt the hurt and there were times we only stood because fell into each other propping the other up. It was mutual understanding that we were spent emotionally though physically in our prime. Spitfire still wanted to hang on just a little longer but I couldn’t.

Shocking our superiors, Spitfire and I both handed in our resignation papers at the same time. I saw the pain in her eyes: as Spitfire did so… for me. Spitfire, the career mare, I was sure would be in the Wonderbolts until she became senile and they wrestled her medals away from her. I suppose we weren’t going to be young forever. Already there were replacements for us planned in advance of our retirement. It didn’t concern us one bit since we swore off the ‘game’. Free of our duty and military, laws against fraternization no longer apply. We married in the open with a massive ceremony attended by fans and friends. She even wore a wedding dress. I remembered she looked magnificent. Spitfire is the flame that warms me in moments of cold.

Spitfire is the perfect wife. We live in our cottage a little glide from that small town of Ponyville. Sitting at my desk, I grow pensive as the years wear on. A lifetime of intense flying catches up to me and Spitfire, our wing joints ache too much for the hard and fast stunts we pulled in our youth. Spitfire takes to the easy instructing of foals in flying lessons while I take to reading and writing. One night Spitfire catches me in a flurry of quill activity.

Spitfire flexes her wings and yawns. She spots the odd brown feathered quill I had. “Why are you wasting money on quills? We’re pegasi.”

I sigh. “It was an old gift from a friend... who’s no longer here.”

Spitfire raises a brow. “Is that a primary feather? I don’t think I know any one of friends with brown feathers.”

“Gilda” Her name stings as it leaves my lips, “was more than just a friend. I loved her.” I choke up as I spoke up.

Spitfire looks as me in confusion and hurt. “Soarin?”

I pat her reassuringly with a wing. “I loved her, but I love you.”

Satisfied Spitfire sighs. “You scared me, Soarin.” She kisses me on the cheek and leaves me to my memoirs.

I do love Spitfire, I meant it, but there are moments I wonder what at time would have been. Gilda never finished her last words but I didn’t need them, I knew because at that time I felt it too. I’ll never forget our week of wonder. Writing down my thoughts I give consideration to the title. I dab my quill and let the words bleed onto the page. I know the title in my heart.

To Live, Love, and Die in the Sky

Chapter 3 Gold to Hold

I wouldn’t kill Gilda, our week together flashes in my mind. In just seven days she’s taken the majority of my heart. Throughout the battle, thoughts of her kept me going as did thoughts of me for her. I couldn’t. I’ve given so much for the Wonderbolts and Equestria, I wouldn’t give them Gilda.

I lower my lance. “Gilda, here.” I undo the straps and give her my camera.

Gilda angrily smashes the device with her lance. “Come with me. Buck all this.”

“Gilda?!”

“I gotta get you out.”

“Why didn’t you let me leave with camera if my defection was your intention?!”

“My squadron died for that stupid thing. I did right by them, but my squadron’s still dead. You’re the only thing in my life that matters now. I only wanted the film because needed to know I mattered as much to you as you did for me.” She unfastens her Raven ebony cloak; taking her lance she shreds the cloth.

I’m flabbergasted that Gilda has destroyed our two options. “I can’t take you back to Equestria and now you can’t go back the Griffin Kingdoms.”

Gilda clucks her tongue with an idea. She pulls me close with her claws pressing her beak near my ear. “We’re going away to live on some small island away from everything and everyone. There we’re going to buck until we’re both dead from exhaustion. That cool with you?”

I blush hotly. “Other girls say ‘I love you’.”

Gilda throws her head back and gives me an indifferent response. “Yeah, that too.” Her goofy smile reveals her true feelings though her attempt to be cool.

I hear cry from the sky. “Soarin!!!”

“Hide!” I push Gilda into some bushes.

Spitfire lands next to me.

“Spitfire? What are you doing here?”

“I searched for you when the heavens turn to hell.” She inspects me. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I pretend and let my right wing fall limp. “The bones are broken. Leave me!”

“Soarin, I’ll carry you!”

Spitfire’s concern against reason touches me even as I pull away from her embrace. I pause for a moment staring at her. However, I do not give in to second guesses. I have chosen Gilda.

“Spitfire, just go! None of us will make it if you try to carry me. I’m already dead.”

“Now way, no how! I’m not leaving you!” Spitfire cries. “I came back just for you!”

I harshly bite. “Go! I don’t love you and I don’t want you back! You used me!”

She mistakes my words for love and concern for her own wellbeing. “You’re just saying that to get me leave. If we die, then we’ll die fighting together! Buck the mission!”

She notices the remnants of Gilda’s black cloak by her hooves. “The enemy?” The moment she turns towards Gilda’s hiding spot; the Griffin springs at her with a lance.

Spitfire tries to leap out of the way but her hooves are not quick enough. I noticed then it was the hoof I hurt that causes her to trip. Gilda impales her with a swift jab then pulls her bloodied lance quickly away. Gilda did the thrust, but I know it was I that killed Spitfire and that for the rest of my life I shall have to live with that.

Spitfire staggers steps back. Before her horrified face she sees Gilda calmly standing besides me. In last moments she cries. “Soarin, why?”

Seeing Spitfire go, I am shocked with feelings that materialize in tears that stream down my face.

“I know she was your squad mate, but it was either her or me.” Gilda turns towards me; she grips me with her claws and looks into my eyes. “You love me, don’t you?”

In the numbness I am still cognizant enough to nod.

Gilda pulls me away. “Soarin, let’s go!”

Through a series of contacts I found out later, others succeeded in that ill-fated mission in my place. Ultimately, the photos of the new Griffin airship were worthless. Apparently the operation was ploy for the real plan where they had the Equestrian ambassador secretly collect the information. It was a smokescreen to divert the attentions of the Griffins and buy the ambassador a cover story for plausible deniability. Such were the cold concerns of those in power. In the end it didn’t matter if we secured the photos. In the terms of cost it was a military disaster on both sides. That ‘legendary’ battle between Wonderbolts and Elite Ravens will be a historical foot note. Even if it didn’t matter, I still know what matters most in my heart. The choice I made to be with Gilda though echoes in my mind. It was something contrary to my being, a defiance of destiny.

Spitfire’s death is like the closing of a chapter of my life. I know in the end she did love me, but sadly I had grown past loving her. Her last words and confession still haunts me at times, but in Gilda’s glow I feel that I made the right choice for me… for us. I am not defined by my mark and I see it faded against my coat with no sadness. If it is selfish to want a measure of happiness in our lives, I suppose I am selfish. Whatever arguments between Gilda and me, we always recall the day we cast aside whatever allegiances we had for each other. In the days that follow, our love only grows stronger. It shall forever be our rallying cry.

Many months in, we’re still adjusting the finer the points of our relationship. Traveling across the world, I see wonders and weirdness in every corner. Every day is an adventure; my previous desires for calm I realized were perhaps a desire to die. The routine would have trapped me and in a blink I would be dead. Our escapades are crazy and out of control at times to a tiresome degree, but it’s life and I couldn’t be more satisfied. We’re still searching for a place to settle but any shared bed between us becomes a home.

We’re on a sky port for airships. Outside of our room at the inn, Gilda pops out of the door and catches me in a pensive mood as I stare off of the pier.

She leans on the railing and rubs her head against mine. “What’s on your mind?”

I reply. “We’re both traitors, exiles.”

Gilda laughs. “Nah, we’re both dead.” She becomes somber as feelings of the lost of our friends surfaces. “That was some battle… they can’t account for all the bodies.”

“Gilda, what about you? I think they’ll find out eventually. They’ll hunt you.”

“Us,” She corrects. Gilda laughs, trying to reassure herself. “I figure if we’re going to become outlaws, you wanna go all the way? I got a cousin, Cutlass. She runs a pirate crew. For Tartarus sake, we got the training. We could be Captains of our own outfit!”

“I suppose I’ll be happy anywhere I go as long it’s with you. Let’s think more about being pirates; I’m not sure if we want that. It’s a big world; we only pissed off half of it. Let’s leave a little part for us to live.”

Gilda shrugs, using a claw to scratch her head as she considers those words. “Yeah, you hold me back on my crazier bird brain ideas. Thanks.”

I roll my eyes as I recall just last night at the bar where I stopped Gilda from drunkenly starting a fight with a group of mercenaries. “Yeah, I keep us alive.”

She chirps. “I’m still gushing that my romantic fantasy came true. We totally met in battle. You loved me enough to stop before your lance hit my heart.”

I tease her with a pat on her head. “I’m not sure that’s how that scene went. I couldn’t fight you. Plus I thought it was a revenge fantasy with Rainbow Dash?”

“Whatever, dweeb.” She relents. “It went exactly like I hoped. You cared for me more than whatever else.”

“Let’s look for that small island you promised.” I remember her lessons and go for the kiss at a bent angle for her beak. Gilda’s surprise is adorable.

Gilda lowers her eyelids. She pulls me back into our room. “Who needs the island?”

Gilda is my unlikely love. Resting beside my ‘feather pillow’, I take a moment to whip out my journal. It’s been more a novel as of late I as I chronicle our new adventures. I have yet to touch the past for the pain it brings as Spitfire still burns in some part of my heart. Writing down my thoughts, I give some consideration to the title. I dab my quill and let the words bleed onto the page. for I know the title in my heart.

To Live, Love, and Die in the Sky