For months, Spitfire pondered whether a limit to how strong a pony could become existed. Sure, some were destined to have greater endurance, physical strength, magical abilities, and so on. However, a peculiar tightness within her chest suggested she had a long way to go before reaching her limit. It was why she found herself exercising, lungs burning like a furnace.
Then again, maybe it was all pointless. Perhaps she reached her limits long ago.
One hundred and ninety-three. One hundred and ninety-four. One hundred and ninety-five.
Each successive number climbed up by one for each wing-up Spitfire performed, a weight attached to a rope around her waist trying to pull her down. Eight minutes had come and gone, sweat dripping from her fiery mane and onto the blue and yellow flight uniform which fit her like a glove. Her limbs all ached in unison; they cried out for her to touch the ground and catch her breath. Nevertheless, Spitfire refused their call. Stopping now would wound her more than any exercises did.
Two hundred and one. Two hundred and two.
The numbers swirling in her head spent more time arriving than before. Spitfire huffed and puffed as her wings pulled her head above the metal bar they clung onto, such body parts unlike any other wings Spitfire studied about as a foal and acted more like prehensile limbs which also propelled flight. At some point, most ponies learned to stop questioning the stranger parts of pony biology.
As she continued her exercises, Spitfire's cheeks turned a hot pink and her legs dangled as if they became lifeless. The room she called her home away from home metamorphosed into a hazy blur, her favorite toy plush during her foalhood atop her bed and the stacks of completed paperwork drowning the oak desk now irregular forms. The fluffy bed she snoozed on for three hours in the night or reclined on as she wondered what purpose life had turned into a blue and yellow blob. The bookshelf to her right, a trove of literary and philosophical knowledge which Princess Twilight Sparkle would gawk at, swirled into a brown block with a rainbow of colors filling its center. And the door to leading to the main hallway rippled about as though another dimension waited on the other side.
Two hundred and seven. Two hundred and eight.
If she couldn't make it to five hundred, she didn't deserve being Captain of the Wonderbolts. And even if she did, Spitfire wondered if it would be worth it in the end. She wished some answer as to why her exercises felt necessary and pointless at the same time arrived. However, as she glanced at the bookshelf once again, the odds of finding the missing puzzle piece lessened until it reached zero.
Just then, a soft knocking sound reached Spitfire's ears. Her surroundings cleared up, the small details making themselves known once more.
"W-who is it?" Spitfire asked out of breath.
"It's Misty Fly," the chipper voice replied from behind the door. "Can I enter your room, ma'am? I must speak with you."
"Permission granted."
Following a soft click, the door swung open, a cream colored pegasus mare trotting inside. She bore a tautened expression; her lips pursed and brow sagged as she surveyed Spitfire's exercises. Spitfire gazed down at Misty, a cascade of sweat pouring down the former's brow and sending a chill down her spine.
"Spitfire, too much of that isn't good for you," Misty muttered. "You'll end up hurting yourself at this rate."
Spitfire performed another wing-up, albeit one where her wings twinged. "W-what makes y-you say that?" Freezing in place like a statue, Spitfire then cocked her head a few seconds later. "If I'm going to become strong, I need to exercise. If I don't do enough of it, I'll stay weak and pathetic."
Sighing, Misty placed a hoof to her chest, head hung low. "Spitfire, you know you're not weak. Remember that mission where you helped stop an angry dragon, something some of us Wonderbolts have yet to do?"
"I didn't do much."
"Nonsense! Your clever ideas stopped him from even getting close to Canterlot. Not to mention you gave him a nice taste of the ol' one-two!" Misty performed two quick jabs at the air; a faint breeze reached Spitfire as she continued exercising. "I could go on, but we'd be here forever!"
Spitfire shook her head. "I-I don't think so. Maybe an hour at most."
"You're always so practical." Misty paused; her eyes widened two seconds later. "Oh! And while you may not be the strongest or fastest pony, you've got some strong qualities that some ponies dream of having. Heck, you're probably the smartest pony here by far. Look at all those books you read. When Soarin tried reading one of those, he just scratched his head and made weird noises." Misty giggled, the tip of her hoof next to her lips. "You should've seen the look on his face. It was classic."
"I-I guess so." Spitfire grunted, still performing wing-ups inch by inch. "But I don't see how intelligence equates to being strong. All it means is that I can say a few things and think of ideas which would pass by others' minds at first. What my job involves is making the plans for our shows and independent missions. S-Shining Armor and Princess Celestia call half of the shots for us, you know." A soft sigh left her mouth. "I just have a fancy title which doesn't mean much."
"Your title means much more than that. I promise you. You're so awesome, Spitfire, but you have to believe in yourself." Misty flapped her wings and glided toward Spitfire. "You've got everything you need in order to become one of the greatest Wonderbolts, but you need to see how amazing you truly are if you're gonna reach that."
"It's not about being the best." Spitfire's wing-ups slowed to a crawl; all of her limbs teetered on the edge of wanting to detach from her body. "It's about so much more." The world turned to slow motion; a lightheaded sensation overcame Spitfire. "L-look, I need the strength to catch up to you all, to protect you all, and to protect everypony else."
"Spitfire." Misty rubbed her muzzle. "I want to help you reach that goal."
"Thanks, but I'd rather stick to what's best." Spitfire made eye contact with Misty, the latter's eyes shimmering. While she yearned to release her emotions like an explosion, Spitfire kept them capped. Misty would dash out of the room and bawl if she did so, though her openness did make her one of the more unique Wonderbolts. "No offense."
"Spitfire, can you come down, please?"
"Why?"
"For me." Misty motioned toward Spitfire, a wounded expression painted on her. "I can't watch a friend torture herself like this."
Spitfire knew she'd want to punch herself across the face if she let go. She refused to do so, but her aching heart loosened her grip, the golden wings sliding off the metal bar. The metallic weight crashed onto the carpet, Misty cringing as a sickening thud polluted the air. Spitfire's hooves touched the ground next, the Wonderbolt panting with her tongue sticking out and glassy eyes. Without a second thought, she released the rope attaching the weight to her and collapsed onto the blue chair conveniently behind her. Spitfire allowed her body to sink into the cloud-like cushions; her muscles loosened at last.
"Thank you, Spitfire," Misty said. "I don't know what had gotten into you, but I'm glad you're resting now."
"Not for long," Spitfire murmured. She glanced at the weight below. "I'm going to try shooting for five hundred a little later."
Misty stepped back, pupils shrunk and cheeks pale. "Are you crazy?"
"How else am I going to become strong?"
"But you're already strong!" Misty stretched a foreleg out toward Spitfire. "No matter what you say or do, I can prove it!"
"I'm guessing you're referring to the 'feats' I've accomplished." Spitfire thrust the back of her head against the chair's headrest. "You and the other Wonderbolts deserve praise much more than I do."
"No." Misty exhaled. "That's wrong, and you know it. We would've failed many more of those missions if you hadn't devised the perfect plan. You're Captain of the Wonderbolts for a reason."
"And what of the many missions Shining Armor or Princess Celestia ordered us to perform?"
"You were a team player in those situations as well, and many of them were also successes." Misty crossed her forelegs. "Hmm. Say, remember when Blaze, Surprise, and High Winds were injured after a mission?"
How couldn't she remember? Spitfire was certain half of Ponyville would abandon support for the team right there. She didn't blame those three Wonderbolts, however, as they merely flew into action the moment they noticed the rising smoke. In fact, she knew the pony at fault for the failure, and she never even had a direct role in the incident.
Spitfire put the blame on herself. She hid it well enough, but with Misty staring at her with a slight frown, perhaps she'd have to spill the beans.
And reveal a lot more as well.
"Spitfire?" Misty muttered.
With sagging shoulders, Spitfire nodded. "I remember that day. I was so concerned for them, but I'm glad they made full recoveries." She then arched an eyebrow. "But why do you mention a failed mission nopony made a strategy for? What about failed missions or nearly failed missions where we did have a strategy?"
Misty rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, I don't exactly remember those too well. I know some of Shining Armor's strategies didn't work out, but other than that, we're usually successful."
"What about the Best Young Fliers Incident? That rescue attempt was my plan." She pressed her hooves together. "And the cragadile making a mess of somepony's home proved to be too much for me to handle. I was knocked out by its thrashing tail, and Surprise's quick thinking won the day for us."
"But we stopped the cragadile. That counts as a win in my book. And to be fair, we were knocked unconscious after we dived to rescue that unicorn."
Spitfire shuddered; she pushed herself off of the chair and grabbed the rope.
"W-what are you doing?"
"T-trying again."
Misty's muzzle scrunched up. "Spitfire, this is not the right way to fix things. Trust me on this."
Spitfire dropped the rope in the blink of an eye; her legs wobbled about. Sensing gravity pushing her down, the world turned to watercolor once more. Misty's voice transformed into a series of incomprehensible echoes. Teetering from left to right, Spitfire slowly closed her eyes, the watercolor now a blanket of darkness.
And then, nothing.
Spitfire opened her eyes and let out a soft groan. She wondered if she floated above the floor for a moment before scanning the hazy room, noticing the blue couch underneath her and the pillow propping her head up. One of her wings twitched, then the other, Spitfire breathing a sigh of relief they no longer ached. Without warning, a purring sound then echoed from her stomach, Spitfire arching an eyebrow as her chest tickled a tad.
"Thank goodness you're up," Misty said, a slight smile across her face. She shuffled her hooves toward Spitfire. With a quick breath, Misty then knelt down until their eyes met. "I was starting to get worried." She paused for a second. "Anyway, I caught you when you passed out like that." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I wouldn't want anypony to deal with a sharp headache."
"Thanks, Misty Fly," Spitfire muttered. She moved her hind legs an inch; her forelegs nudged a bit a second later. "By the way, how long was I unconscious?"
"About half an hour if the clock's telling the truth."
Spitfire glanced at the fluffy carpet below, shoulders drooping. She sighed. "Figures. So how am I going to get stronger if I'm just going to faint?" Shuddering, Spitfire slowly propped herself upright, her stiff joints loosening up. "And being unconscious for that long is rather embarrassing."
"Spitfire, as I said, you're already strong." Misty rubbed Spitfire's shoulder. Her mouth remained sealed for a moment as silence filled the air; her brow rose a second later. "Say, do you want a cup of water? It'll help a bit."
Spitfire nodded. "Sure."
"One cup of water coming right up!"
Misty opened the door and trotted out of Spitfire's room, only her breaths and the clock's incessant ticking reaching the Wonderbolt's ears. She glanced at the exercise equipment, the glowing metal bars still standing proud, and then back to the roof above her.
Reaching the tip of her mind was the fact Spitfire never told how little she ate since Lord Tirek nearly leveled all of Equestria. Perhaps he accidentally stole her appetite instead of her magic when the incident occurred. Spitfire shook her head; she knew death was inches away when she encountered the rotten beast. His glowing eyes and crooked smile still plagued her memories, Spitfire wishing she ran away instead of charged as instructed.
"As instructed."
Again, just another reminder she's a cog in the machine. Worthless was what some ponies would call it. Somepony who followed another captain wasn't much of a captain herself, right?
"No, that can't be it," Spitfire murmured. "I have a purpose." She glanced at the stylized flame adorning her flank. "Everypony has a purpose. Cutie marks remind us of this each day, right? Ponies tell me I'm one of the best fliers in Equestria, but why do I feel as though I'm far from that? And why—why does flying no longer feel as fun as it used to?"
Just then, Misty reentered the room with a cup wrapped in her hoof. She gently gave it to Spitfire, who sipped the clear water in the blink of an eye. The cold, wet texture soothed her body a little, Spitfire's posture perking up.
"Thanks, Misty Fly," Spitfire said. "I appreciate it."
"I'm here to help, Spitfire," Misty replied. Jumping up in the air, she landed her flank atop the couch, taking the cushion to Spitfire's right. She stretched her forelegs, wrapping one around Spitfire. "Say, I thought of something while I was getting your drink. Well, some of my fellow teammates helped as well, but I think it'd be for the best."
Spitfire took another sip; she shifted her attention to Misty. "What is it?"
"I know this will sound awkward—and trust me, it probably will—but do you mind telling me how you've been feeling for the past few days?"
Shrugging, Spitfire donned a bemused expression. "I'm fine."
Misty raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" Her head swiveled from left to right. "And don't worry; it's okay to express yourself. You don't have to be Miss Tough all the time, you know. Heck, you can even shed some tears." Misty tapped Spitfire's shoulder once again. "Us Wonderbolts gotta stick together, you know. And as a Wonderbolt, I'll do everything I can to help you."
Spitfire twiddled the cup in her hooves. Biting her lip, she gulped, knowing she'd have to let it all pour out soon enough. Her fellow Wonderbolts were guaranteed to find out sooner than later at this rate. Holding it in would only make things worse for everypony. "Okay, I'll tell."
Misty nodded. "So then, what's on your mind?"
"I'm—" Spitfire exhaled "—I'm afraid."
"It's okay to be afraid, Spitfire." Misty massaged Spitfire's back, the latter's muscles relaxing a little. "What are you afraid about?"
"I'm afraid of losing everything I hold dear. And this combined with how I can't let everypony down, but do—hurts."
"First, you almost never let anypony down. And I think everypony fears what you fear." Misty pursed her lips for a second. "I know I'm afraid of things like that."
"That makes sense." Spitfire took a longer sip, then placed the cup down. "It's just—I feel like I'm pretty much expendable at this point. Ever since some of the harder missions I've felt this way. And with how poor my performance was the last three or so missions, one of them Shining Armor's orders, these fears have only grown exponentially."
"Spitfire, it wasn't your fault. The most recent one was understandable, and while you were shaken up a bit the two before that, you still pulled off an amazing victory. Stopping a Sand Drake is no easy feat, you know, and you did just that despite getting roughed up. Look, nopony is going to blame you for your shortcomings. I promise."
Cocking her head, Spitfire's pupils shrunk. "W-what makes you say that?"
"Nopony is perfect, even the princesses. And you do remember that the information we got from Princess Celestia's order indicated that nopony could've known that centaur could hurt pegasi as well, right?"
With a sealed mouth, Spitfire slowly nodded.
"And do you remember what you told us before you left?"
Sighing and then remaining static was all Spitfire could muster.
"You told the some of the other Wonderbolts to protect Cloudsdale at all costs, get everypony somewhere safe, and to avoid confronting the enemy unless it meant saving lives." The motion of Misty's massage picked up. "Your set of plans saved so many lives that day. Isn't that amazing?"
Spitfire shook her head.
"Spitfire, I know you're upset. I know how hard on yourself you are. And I know that we've all made mistakes or failed in something. However, you're a true hero. You're my hero."
"Why?"
"You taught me what I needed to know to get where I am today." Misty lifted her hoof away from Spitfire's back and then placed it on her chest. "You helped me reach new heights, taught me so many things, and made me wiser and braver. There's nothing in the world I could do to repay you. I think you're the absolute best, Spitfire."
A warm liquid puddled up in Spitfire's eyes. Blinking twice, she rubbed them away with a hoof. Somepony like her crying made zero sense, after all. "Well, I guess I've done some great things."
"That's the spirit!"
"But—I'm still unsure of where to go from here."
Misty tilted her head; her eyes widened. "How so?"
"I guess—I need some time to think about it first." Spitfire pushed herself off of the couch. Wobbling about a bit, her body wanting to push her down, she regained her composure and stood straight. "Maybe I'll have a better idea tomorrow. Sadly, I don't think this is one of those things which will be cured easily."
"I understand."
Keeping her gaze locked onto Misty, Spitfire trotted toward the door, stopping mere inches from the wooden frame. "I guess I'll get to work for the time being."
Misty raised her hoof. "But—"
"Not exercise. I can't rush into that after passing out, you know."
With a quick wipe of her forehead, Misty breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm going to focus on paperwork, checking up on the reserves and cadets, and other tasks like that for the time being." Spitfire rolled her eyes; she swished her tail. "Boring stuff."
"Yeah, being captain isn't all glitz and glamour."
"No kidding." Spitfire opened the door. A soft creak split the air. "I guess I'll talk to you later, Misty. See ya."
Misty waved her hoof. "Goodbye, Spitfire." She winked. "If you ever need anything, your friends and I are here to help, even if it takes time and a whole group of us. Anyway, I hope your future is wonderful!"
Cracking a smile, Spitfire nodded. "I wish the same for you, Misty Fly."
Hours passed by in a flash, Spitfire already finding herself opening her crusty eyes as the sun's rays illuminated the bed she reclined on. Propping herself up, she brought her attention to the small clock atop the cabinet, the time reading eight o'clock when the watercolor-like world became defined once more. Spitfire released a soft groan; she rolled her eyes. She endured another night where she only managed three hours of sleep.
"At least flying wakes me up," she murmured. Opening her wings, Spitfire hopped off the bed. Her four hooves touched the fuzzy carpet in unison. "Well, better make breakfast before heading out."
Pressing her hoof on the door, Spitfire noticed a crumpled up poster plastered on the wall before her. She rubbed the top of her head and read the two words written in a blue stationary. Confetti-like decorations surrounded each letter.
Main Lobby
Such extravagant writing was one of Surprise's specialties, though most knew her for the silly pranks and erratic stunts she performed from time to time. Yet, she happened to be a mare everypony would chuckle and smile with. The time she borrowed Pinkie Pie's party cannon to shock everypony during a team meeting tickled Spitfire's funny bone to this day.
Wiping the smile off her face, Spitfire took a sharp left, her hoofsteps echoing within the narrow corridor. The walls to her left and right lacked any other posters or signs; their bright blue surfaces sparkled as if they were made of crystal.
Just then, her ears twitched; Spitfire arched an eyebrow certain ponies were chatting among each other. Then again, those near the Wonderbolts Academy or the base either had to be forcibly dragged out of bed or yawned for the next thirty minutes. With each short step Spitfire took toward the lobby, the chatter intensified. She shrugged and gazed at the door before her. Spitfire raised her foreleg up. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hoof on the smooth, wooden frame and pushed it open.
"She's here!" a familiar, masculine voice shouted.
"Hey, Soarin," Spitfire replied unconsciously. Blinking, her sight picked up a crowd of ponies huddled around a rectangular table, all locking onto her with mile-wide grins. Swiveling her head and stepping back an inch, all Spitfire could muster was a gasp. She rubbed her eyes twice. Yet, the sight before her remained.
All of her fellow Wonderbolts were accounted for; some of the cadets also managed to squeeze into the crowded room. Cloudchaser, Thunderlane, Sprinkle Medley, even Lightning Dust, and more all joined the festivities. Some of those present had no affiliation with the Wonderbolts, the recognizable visages of Braeburn, Cherry Jubilee, Octavia, and others made the scene. Rainbow Dash managed to find a spot above the table to hover about; her beaming smile also warming Spitfire's heart.
And completing the scene flapped a large banner connected to each end of the room; the letters which adorned it glowed even brighter than the sign Spitfire found before, the large title now surrounded by a colorful array of scribbles denoting ponies' names.
To our hero and friend, Spitfire!
Spitfire placed a hoof to her chest, gawking at the scene before her. "T-this is—"
"All the ponies whose lives you've helped improve," Misty finished for her. She trotted up to Spitfire and placed a hoof on her back. "Look at how many showed up for you. All of them learned something from your wisdom or were saved by your efforts."
"But how?" Spitfire glanced over to Misty, the former's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and then blinked. "H-how did you round up so many ponies?"
"Easy," Lightning said with a smirk. "Misty Fly over there spread the word to those you've helped. Hey, I'd still be overly reckless if it wasn't for you getting me on the right track."
"And I'd still keep crashing into Cloudchaser if you didn't teach me how to do some of the stunts properly," Thunderlane added. He and Cloudchaser snickered together. "You prevented a lot of frustration there."
"And I'd be flatter than a pancake if ya didn't help catch me," Cherry Jubilee said. She rubbed the back of her neck, blushing. "Honestly, we all think you're one of the most wonderful ponies to ever grace the skies, Spitfire."
"Yeah!" Rainbow shouted; she thrust her hoof upward. "You're among the most awesome ponies I know, and no mistakes either of us make will change that!"
A cascade of tears akin to a waterfall poured down Spitfire's cheeks. For once, it felt right to cry, but these tears carried a positive vibe other tears lacked. She recalled one of her books mentioning such a thing. Tears of joy were what some ponies called it, and she couldn't help but smile through them. Spitfire studied the heavenly room once more; her grin only widened by the second.
"If you want proof of how amazing you are, look at how many ponies came by to support you," Misty said. "There's even a big bucket of letters I collected from ponies who couldn't make it, all of them wishing you the best."
"Misty Fly." Spitfire made eye contact with her; she wrapped her forelegs around Misty. "You're such an amazing friend."
"You too, Spitfire."
Spitfire released Misty from her hug. Trotting closer to the crowd of ponies, she then took a deep breath. The words almost refused to come out, though her initial shock leveled off. "I do have one thing I want to mention." Spitfire exhaled once more. "Even if the road ahead is still rough, and even if I find myself lost at times, I have one thing I can count on to help me up."
Misty tilted her head a little. "What would that be?"
"My friends."
