“You know…I always wanted to be just like you. Strong, fast, brave…you were always my hero. Whenever I had a problem, I would always stop and think: what would you do?
“No matter what the issue, no matter what the odds against you…somehow, you pulled through. I don’t know if it was dumb luck or what, but you did.”
The pony stood alone in the field, listening to the wind, cold with the beginning breath of winter. The tree in front of her rustled with the breeze, dropping a few leaves into the earth.
“When…it happened…I wasn’t sure if I could go on. You have to understand, I looked to you for everything. But…I just had the feeling that you’d want me to keep going. You knew I was stronger than that. That belief…that’s what kept me going."
The pony flexed her wings awkwardly, stretching the fabric of her black jacket. A bundle of flowers lay at her feet.
“I still remember those few moments we spent together. You taught me so much. How to be strong. How to laugh in the face of danger. And most importantly, how to be loyal. You were my inspiration for everything I did.”
A scooter and helmet lay behind the pony, temporarily forgotten.
“I’m in the Junior Speedsters now,” she continued. “Just like you were. And maybe, once I get good enough at flying, I can go enter the Best Young Fliers competition. I’ll probably never be as good as you were, though.
“The Wonderbolts have changed their uniform now, you know. It’s hard to see unless you’re close up, but everyone who sees it knows what it means. None of us have forgotten that day.”
The pony sighed, flicking her purple mane back over her ear. “You were so happy when Spitfire told you. It was the chance of a lifetime. I was so happy for you. You could finally realize your dream, and fly with the Wonderbolts.”
“I went to every performance. So did the rest of your friends. You were…well, you looked like you belonged in that formation. We could see you smiling from the stands.”
“But, everything good has to end sometime, doesn’t it? None of us just expected your to come so…suddenly.”
Scootaloo forced herself to look at the headstone. It bore no name, just the same symbol now sewn into the Wonderbolt’s uniforms. A cloud and a rainbow-colored lightning bolt.
“We all remember that day. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. None of us will.”
It had been a beautiful, sunny day. Rainbow Dash had been training for weeks for this one event; the one Spitfire promised her would secure her a permanent position among her heroes. “Can you believe it?” Dash had said, ecstatic. “I sure can’t! If I do this, I won’t be flying with the Wonderbolts. I’ll be a Wonderbolt!”
Ponyville had been treated to a spectacular aeronautics display every day, as the pegasus perfected her every technique, and rehearsed the carefully choreographed moves she would perform.
Finally, the day arrived. Most of Ponyville went with Rainbow Dash to watch. Scootaloo herself made sure to get the cyan pegasus by herself and offer some words of encouragement.
“I’ll be fine,” the pegasus had replied nervously. “I mean, I’ve been practicing long enough, right?”
“We’re all with you,” Scootaloo had said. “No matter what happens.”
She could physically see some of the tension leave her idol. “Thanks. That…means a lot to me.”
“You’ll do great,” the younger pegasus had said. “I bet you could show even the Wonderbolts a thing or two!”
Dash had laughed nervously. “You really think that? There might be hope for you yet.”
Scootaloo lay the flowers down before the headstone. “I thought you might like these. They’re foget-me-nots. The blue ones match your coat, the pink ones match your eyes.”
She shivered as another chill wind blew past, and she hugged the jacket tighter around herself. “The weather team really tries, but they can’t do what you can. Nopony could. I bet you’d brag about that if you could.”
Scootaloo’s throat closed up for a second, and she looked away, brushing a tear from her eye. “They told me you didn’t feel anything. You wouldn’t even have noticed. Just there one second, gone the next. It’s…I just can’t believe someone can be gone…so quickly.”
She shook her head. “It still hurts. Even now. All of us hurt. Especially Applejack. You never told me you two were so close.”
She reached out and touched the headstone. “I’m just glad I was able to talk with you. That last time. When I wished you luck. I eased some of your worry, and…maybe, that’s all that really counts.”
The routine had gone flawlessly. Rainbow Dash flew in perfect unison with the other pegasi, as if she belonged there. Rocketing through the air, mane flowing in the wind…it was no wonder pegasi loved the sky.
Every trick the four pegasi performed brought another chorus of gasps from the audience. Those from Ponyville fought to hold back tears, their hearts rejoicing that the pony they knew and loved was living her lifelong dream.
The finale approached, the ground crew struggling to keep up the appropriate display of pyrotechnics. The Wonderbolts rocketed into the air, soaring above the clouds until they had all but vanished from sight.
After a heart-stopping moment, three rocketed down, through an eye-withering pyrotechnic display that sent streamers of fire in every direction.
The audience cheered and applauded wildly. But then their elation began to fade. Hadn’t there been four a moment ago?
Beside Scootaloo, Twilight Sparkle brought out a pair of binoculars, scanning the sky. After a moment, she gasped, and pulled the lenses from her eyes. “She’s still going up,” she breathed.
Scootaloo snatched the binoculars from her and peered into the sky, finding the rainbow-maned pegasus without difficulty. Rainbow Dash was still streaking upward, jaw set in a rictus of concentration.
“What’s she doing?” Scootaloo squeaked.
“Proving a point,” Twilight replied.
Scootaloo glued her eyes to the binoculars. “She’s going too high,” she whispered.
Just as she said that, Rainbow Dash’s furiously beating wings slowed, and stopped completely. An expression of mild confusion appeared on her face before her eyes rolled up in their sockets. A moment later, she fell.
The crowd began to cheer as the cyan pegasus appeared out of the clouds, about to perform what they thought would be the finale of finales. And in a way, they were right.
The crowd’s cheering stopped as the pegasus’ form plummeted toward the ground. By now, the sharper-eyed among them would have noticed her still wings. The assembled ponies held their breath, expecting her to flare out her wings and pull up any second.
She didn’t.
An instant before impact, Scootaloo tore her eyes from the scene and covered them with her hooves, a ragged sob escaping her throat.
The dull thud as the pegasus hit the ground could only be heard in the first few rows, but it might as well have been an earth-shattering blast.
The arena was silent for a long moment as the audience absorbed what they had seen. Then the screams began, and the medics began rushing onto the field…
Scootaloo cast a warm look at the headstone. To that day, nobody knew why the pegasus had done what she did. Maybe she had forgotten how high to go. Maybe she was trying to show off. But no matter what, she had died doing what she loved: raising the bar.
No matter how her final stunt had ended, ponies would have been talking about it for years. And maybe, that would have been all that mattered to the cyan pegasus.
The younger pony spread her wings wide, letting the chill air sweep through her newly formed flight feathers. “I’ll make you proud, Dash. Wait and see. I’ll be the best flier Equestria has ever seen!”
“And someday…someday, I’ll fly as high as you did. Maybe even higher. I’ll fly all the way to the moon if that’s what it takes. I won’t stop. I won’t give up. You shaped me, and now I’m going to shape your legacy. I’ll make sure the world never forgets you.”
Another gust swirled through the field, buffeting the young pegasus’ wings. Except this one was different. It was free, wild…and strangely warm.
Scootaloo looked around, bewildered. Had that been…
No. That was ridiculous. Nevertheless, she puffed her chest out. “I hope you’re watching, Rainbow. I swear, I’ll make you proud.”
Before she left, she moved forward and delicately placed one last thing on the grave: a single blue feather.
The orange pegasus flipped her helmet onto her head, and sped off on her trusty scooter.
A gust of wind soon swept the feather off the ground, where it tossed in the breeze. And if anyone had been there to hear, they would have sworn they had heard something.
Laughter. Joyous, innocent laughter. The laugh of one who loved the sky.
