The rain over Cloudsdale fell heavily, darkening the sky and turning the usually sparkling city a somber gray. Four cloaked pegasi flew through the deluge towards a small bar sitting at the city's outskirts. The symbol on their blue cloaks could barely be discerned through the wind and rain; a lightning bolt with outstretched wings. It was the symbol of the Wonderbolts, and of the Wonderbolts Academy.
The four pegasi entered the bar quickly, the rain following them in. The last one in threw all her weight against the door to close it. She let down her hood with a sigh, revealing her yellow coat and bright orange mane. She gave the chubby bartender a friendly nod which he returned. This was a regular hangout for cadets from the Academy, so the bartender knew them all by name. She followed the other cadets to a booth in the far corner where they were already sitting.
There were only a few other ponies sitting at the bar, but one of them caught the cadet's eye. He was a stallion, a pegasus with a blue coat and a darker blue mane. She was sure she recognized him from somewhere, but his back was turned to her.
If only he'd turn around...
“Yo, Spitfire. You comin' or what?” one of the other cadets called out impatiently.
The stallion reacted when he heard her name called across the bar. He turned, his eyes instantly finding hers.
They grew wide in recognition. “Spitfire?”
Spitfire's own eyes widened as well. “Soarin!?”
“Sweet Celestia, it really is you, isn't it?” He smiled broadly as he pulled out the bar stool next to him. “Come on, let's talk a minute. How many years has it been?”
Spitfire hesitated a moment as she looked at the cadets in the corner. She motioned them to wait for her before moving to sit down next to her old friend, taking note of his half-finished glass of gin.
“Too many, that's for sure. What happened to you? You kinda fell off the map after flight camp.”
Soarin looked away from her as he scratched his head. “Oh, you know, I just... moved around a lot.”
“Oh...” Spitfire frowned as she looked him over. His mane and tail were unkempt, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Even his wings were poorly cared for, with feathers jutting out at odd angles. The colt she knew back at flight camp would have kicked this stallion's flank for being so neglectful.
“So what about you?” Soarin asked, snapping Spitfire back to focus. “What's the great 'Flaming Streak' been up to lately?” He wore a coy smile as he emphasized her nickname from their camp days, making her cheeks grow uncomfortably hot.
“Hey, keep it down with that, will ya? I don't want ponies to start asking how I got a name like that.”
“What? It's a great story. Never knew a pegasus could fly for so long without realizing their tail was on fire.”
Spitfire groaned as she laid her face on the counter top.
Soarin chuckled lightly. “Alright, alright. I'm done. But seriously, what have you been up to? Not still working that mail route, are you?”
She raised her head with a shake. “No, they got another pegasus to take my route for me; some special case, I think. I'm studying at the Wonderbolts Academy now.”
Soarin gaped at her in surprise. “Really? I-I mean great! That's really good! Good job!” he nearly shouted. The other ponies at the bar looked at him strangely.
He quickly downed the rest of his gin as Spitfire tilted her head questioningly. “How have you been, Soarin?”
“Hmm? Oh, me? You know, same-old same-old. But the Wonderbolts! You must be pretty stoked--”
“No," she cut him off. "Honestly Soarin. You look like shit. What happened?”
Soarin looked away from her as his fake smile slowly faded until it became a melancholy frown. He stared into his empty glass, not saying anything. Spitfire was about to lose her patience and hit him when he finally spoke.
“You remember the day you got your nickname?”
“I thought you said you were done with that,” Spitfire growled.
“I know.”
“Then why are you still--”
“No.” Soarin finally lifted his gaze from his glass to her eyes. “I mean, I know that you knew.”
Spitfire looked at him like he was mental. “What are you talking about?”
Soarin sighed as he looked back into his empty glass. “Can I get a refill down here?” he called to the barkeep.
The plump pegasus waddled over and filled his glass to the brim. “Anything for you, Spitfire?” he asked.
“No thanks, Blue. I'm good for now.”
He nodded before leaving them to converse in peace once more.
“How many of those have you had?” Spitfire asked as she pointed at the topped-off drink.
He ignored her hoof as he took a sip from the edge. “Not enough.”
Spitfire was sure she could have debated that, but she wasn't looking for an argument. Just some answers. “Now will you tell me what you're going on about? What do you know I know?
“I know that you knew,” he corrected her.
“Whatever!” She was seriously about to strangle him.
He took another sip before clarifying. “You knew your tail was on fire the whole time.”
“Oh... Wait, what?”
“You wanted to win that race so badly, you flew for a grand total of ten laps before you let them put it out.”
“It doesn't matter,” Spitfire replied with a shrug. “I still didn't win the race.”
“Yeah, well, you can only fly for so long with a flaming ass.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I still don't see what my ass has to do with you looking like shit.”
“How many pegasi in all of Equestria would keep racing after their tails caught on fire? I can only think of one, and it ain't me.” Soarin got down from his stool and put a few bits on the counter. “Finish that drink for me, would ya?” he said as he turned to leave.
Spitfire scrambled after him. “Soarin, wait!”
He stopped at the door and looked back at her, pain shadowing his features. “You know what happens when the rest of us spontaneously combust?” He opened the door, revealing the storm still raging outside.
“We die.”
And then he was gone. Spitfire could only look on helplessly as her childhood friend flew off into the unknown. Something had turned that sweet little colt she once knew into that hollow shell of a pony. But she didn't give up when her ass was on fire. No way she was going to give up on a friend now.
