Author's Note
Timeline note: This story is set in the EQG universe, and takes place soon after the events of the original Equestria Girls movie.
Thanks to my team of pre-readers and editors for a fantastic job, and to the readers, I hope you enjoy the story!
Wings
"Are you 22A?"
I looked up from the mess of headphone and music player cables in my lap. "Yep, guilty as charged."
"Ah, found it! 22B for me. Just excuse me for one sec..." his voice faded into assorted grunts and groans as he hefted what was probably an oversized 'carry on' into the overhead bin, followed quickly by his dark blue jacket and a huge golf umbrella.
Definitely not a local if he has an umbrella.
"Sorry, almost there." His voice was a medium tone. Not too nasally, but not too deep either. At least it'd be tolerable if it turned out that he was a gabber.
"No worries here," I replied. I half watched as he slid a smaller bag under the seat in front and sidled into the row to take his seat. I was immediately hit with a faint smell of cologne. Oh geez… I feigned a small stretch and tested it out with my nose. Hmm… not the best around, but it could be worse.
While he got settled and fished around for the seat belt, I stole a glance out of the window. People and trucks were everywhere out there: food, baggage, fuel, and a bunch of others I still couldn't really identify. Funny how small they looked from here. My eyes followed another trail of bags as they were put—well, thrown—onto the belt. I followed them as far as I could, until they disappeared into the belly of the beast.
And people think they have it bad up here in coach. At least they keep the lights on for us. The bags don't even get that.
"Pardon my reach, miss."
"Huh?" I turned and saw a phone and charger in his hand. "Oh, yeah, sure thing."
I shifted a bit to give him extra room so he could plug in. He seemed like a nice enough guy so far. Pretty easy on the eyes, too. Young, probably fresh out of college or something. Light grey skin, dark hair, blue eyes. Yeah, not bad at all. Not that I was looking, of course.
"Thanks. Almost ran out of juice there." He added a smile and a nod, which I returned.
"Understood, believe me. Three hours gets a lot longer when you don't have anything to read or play around with." We both laughed at that.
"True indeed," he replied through a chuckle. "On the other hand, though, it’d give you plenty of time to think.”
“There is that, I guess.” I absently tugged at one of the knots in my cables that still refused to budge. “Besides, by the time I fix this mess, we’ll probably be there already.”
He generously offered to help with the cables, but I waved him off. I knew I would get it eventually, and really, I wasn’t sure I was in the mood to listen to music anyway. He just smiled and nodded, then slid his phone out of the seatback pocket and began tapping away on it.
Thinking. That word rattled around in my head. I’ve never been one to spend lot of time thinking about anything. Kind of a Dash family trait, really… and probably a big reason why I barely got a C in third year chemistry. But in the last few weeks, I’d been doing plenty of thinking. About things, people, places. New possibilities, new realities.
New me.
I wonder what she looks like...?
“So, you heading out on vacation?”
I was so lost in thought, it took me a second to register that he had said something. “Huh? Oh— sorry, wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?”
“I was just wondering what brings you to Canterlot. Vacation? Something else?”
“Nah, going home, actually...” I finally replied. “But I have some extended family up here, so Seaddle’s always been kind of a second home. Just spent the last week up here visiting them, relaxing after the end of the school year. What about you?”
“Yeah, me too. Just a quick business trip for me. Meet clients, prepare briefs, bury myself in paperwork again...” His expression wilted a bit. “Kinda bummed too. I was hoping to get out and see some of the sights. Never been to Seaddle before.” He shrugged a bit and glanced out into the aisle, where only a trickle of people remained. “But I suspect I’ll be coming back in a few weeks for more meetings. Any places you can recommend for a very late dinner?”
“The Mocha Sunrise Cafe,” I answered immediately. “Just across the street from the downtown library. Big neon sign, wrap-around windows. You can’t miss it.”
Memories of old family vacations sprang to mind, and I began to wonder where the other me went to kick back and relax. I refocused before my thoughts wandered too far and replied. “Good food, great coffee, and Mocha can give you a tour of the city without you ever needing to leave your booth.”
He tapped the location into his phone and saved it for later. “Awesome, thanks! I’ll be sure to—” He was cut off by the voice of an overly cheery flight attendant.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Equestrian Air Flight 42, with nonstop service to Canterlot! The cabin door is now closed, so please..."
I took a quick look around while the announcement continued. “Wow, an empty aisle seat? That’s a rarity.”
“No doubt,” he replied before taking a peek forward, as if expecting one last passenger to come rushing down the aisle any second. Seeing none, he glanced my way. “No offense, but I think I’ll snag the extra room on the aisle seat,” he said as he scooted over.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Eh, go for it.”
Normally, I would have taken the aisle seat for myself, so I could stretch out my legs a bit more. But not this time. This time, I wanted to be next to the window. I wanted to get a full view of what was outside, even if it was just miles of empty blue sky. A small part of me wondered if I’d see anything differently, knowing what I know now.
A soft thud came through the plane, and a moment later, we were rolling away from the gate. Well, guess we’ll find out soon enough.
”Now folks, if you could direct your attention to the cabin crew as they demonstrate the safety features of this 700 Series aircraft…” The flight attendants began their safety briefing, rolling through motions and demonstrations that all of us have seen a million times before.
I sat there watching the attendants demonstrate how to put an oxygen mask on, how to fasten the seat belts, where the life rafts were, and a dozen other safety topics that no one really paid attention to. That got me thinking. I wonder what it’d be like without those?
Heck, what would flying be like without anything? No masks or belts, no radar, no plane even. Just me and the sky; nothing holding me up but a pair of wings and a little bit of what Twilight had called 'pegasus magic'. Even now, it was hard to really wrap my head around something so radical to me, yet it was commonplace in Twilight’s world… and was now a part of her own life as well, if her story about becoming a ‘Princess of Equestria’ was real.
Gate after gate rolled by outside as we crept closer to the runway. At nearly each one sat another plane. Some large, some small, many sporting colors and designs I didn’t fully recognize. People and vehicles moved in every direction beneath them, like ground-bound bees buzzing around huge metallic nests. It was amazing to watch the amount of work and preparation that went into getting these hundred-ton ‘birds’ ready to go.
“They all start to blend together after a while, I think.” I glanced back to my neighbor, who was looking past me out the window with seeming disinterest. “If not for the colors, you’d never be able to tell them apart.”
“Yeah, only so many ways to make them, after all,” I replied softly, one eye still focused on the scene outside. “But I tend to think they’re still unique in some ways.”
“Really? How so?”
For a moment, the picture outside changed. Instead of planes, there was row after row of huge, winged horses in every size and color imaginable. Some had small, thin wings, others had huge wings, swept up and back, some even with curved tips on the ends. I saw them pawing at the ground with their hooves, flexing muscles in preparation for flight. Flaps and rudders became feathers and tails, swishing and swaying back and forth.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a multi-colored plane, done up in shades of red, blue, and yellow. Without even thinking about it, I grabbed a tuft of my hair and looked down at it, then looked back up at the plane. I tried to imagine it as a multi-colored horse, the one Twilight had said looked just like me. Then the plane came fully into view, and I saw the airline’s name printed on the side in big white letters. Ugh. Yeah, no way would I be some discount plane. I’m way cooler than that for sure.
“Well, think about it this way,” I finally replied, before the pause after his question became awkward. “We all think of our cars as having personalities. Heck, one of my friends even named her car ‘Cupcake’. But yeah, we kind of give them a bit of personality, right?”
He scratched at his chin for a second. “Well… yeah, I guess so. Or we at least think of it as being especially ours, even if there are others like it on the road.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “Even if we see one that looks the same from a distance, it’s still unique because we just know it’s unique. It’s our car through and through.” I pointed out of the window to another plane like ours, only this one sported a bright, multi-hued orange paint job.
“See that one? It’s pretty much the same as the one we’re on, but it has its own number and colors, just like we have names and skin colors. And maybe that one’s stripes are brighter than this one, or maybe it can fly just a bit harder, turn a bit sharper than the others.” I imagined that plane as another one of those horses, but only taller and more muscular, every part of it screaming ’I’m faster.’
“Huh… never thought of it that way,” he mused, but quickly smiled nonetheless. “I take it you’re a bit of a plane buff?”
“Me? Nah, not really. At least I never used to be. Just kind of picked it up recently, actually... A friend of mine is a flier, though, and she got me interested.”
He smiled and nodded. “Ah, okay. Cool. My dad had a small Cessna for a long time. He’d occasionally take me on along on a short flight. At least until he sold it a few years ago, anyway. Just too expensive to keep up anymore.”
I noticed the terminal roll out of sight past my window, leaving nothing but empty fields and rows of blinking lights along the edge of the pavement. The runway wasn’t far now.
“Your friend…” he continued, “what type of plane does she fly?”
“Um, I’m not really sure. She just got her pilot’s license a few weeks ago.” A bleach-white lie to be sure, but Principal Celestia had already gone to great lengths to keep the real story of what happened between all of us, and the appearance of that magical portal, from the press, and I wasn’t about to blow the lid off of that one.
He chuckled and waved it off. “Ah, it’s okay. Just curious is all.”
A small ding rang out, followed by the pilot’s voice. ”We are cleared for departure. Flight attendants, please take your seats.”
I watched the two attendants who were still up quickly finish whatever they were doing and move toward the front. A few seconds later, the overhead lights faded away, bathing the cabin in a sort of deep blue glow, which had the added effect of muffling the din of chatter that had filled the plane moments before.
I gave my calves a bit of a stretch, brushed my hair behind my ear, and settled back into my seat. Habit forced me to check my seatbelt, though once again I had to wonder what my counterpart would think of careening through the air with something strapped around her like that. Especially something as uncomfortable as these.
The plane made one final right turn, then came to a stop. Since I was seated just behind the wings, I had a great view of the action as it went through some final adjustments, like some mechanical jigsaw puzzle that could change on command. The wing stopped moving, and soon the sound of the engines powering up began to fill the cabin.
My thoughts drifted for a moment to the tour I had taken at the plane factory just north of the city, and to the little girl who had looked down at one of the nearly finished planes and asked the guide, “How is something so big able to fly?”
“Magic,” was the guide’s first response.
He had been joking of course, but he was more right than he could have imagined.
As the engines roared to life and sent us barreling down the runway, I imagined the Equestrian me running across a field somewhere, eyes fixed ahead and wings spread as far as they could go. The plane poured on the speed and I saw her gallop harder still, hooves thundering against the ground just like the tires were now.
And then, magic.
Rotation and lift off. The air rushed underneath us as the flaps worked to control the air and push us higher. Sort of what Twilight had said her primary and secondary feathers did when she took off. The ground fell away rapidly as we gained altitude, and soon the city below was barely more than a kid’s play mat. People had disappeared, cars and buses were just ants weaving through a grey maze.
How high could I even fly?
A good question, and one I’d have to remember to ask Twilight, assuming she ever came back here. She had promised she would, but hey, I could understand if she swore off traveling through magic portals to alternate dimensions. Besides, I mused as rubbed my hands together, I don’t think she cared for fingers and toes anyway.
I watched silently as we turned to the east and continued to climb, and soon the city vanished completely beneath the cloud deck. Banks of clouds lay above and below us, a few gray ones dotting an infinite blanket of white. Internally, I had to laugh at myself for wondering if I’d see any of the ‘cloudominiums’ that both Twilight, and later on Sunset, had described to us.
Some time later, a sudden light turning on captured my attention, and drew me away from my continued sky gazing. I looked back to see my neighbor, just retracting his arm from the reading light switch.
“Just going to read a bit, but if the light’s going to bother you, just say so.”
“No, it’s okay,” I replied as I stretched a bit in my seat. “Go right ahead.”
“Cool, thanks.” He nodded and dug into his smaller bag for a moment before producing what looked like a mystery book of some kind. He propped the book on his leg, but stopped and looked back at me. “Silly question, but thinking back to what you said before, about planes having their own personalities and stuff...”
I gave him a curious expression. “Um, yeah. What about it?”
“I was just wondering; the plane we’re on… what would you call it?”
I was about to fumble for an answer when the pilot’s voice came on the speaker.
”Hi folks, just an update from the flight deck. We’re still humming along at our cruising altitude. Weather still looks good, and the tail wind’s a bit better than expected today, so we should have you on the ground in Canterlot about, eh, let’s call it ten to twelve minutes ahead of schedule. We should be starting our descent in about thirty minutes.”
The pause had bought me some time to think, and I knew just what to say now. “I’d call this one ‘Pegasus’.”
He seemed a bit surprised at my choice. “Pegasus? Why’d you pick that?”
Because somewhere out there, in some world I might never see, there’s a blue pony blazing through the sky with the wind in her face, and nothing but magic and a pair of wings keeping her there.
I looked at him and smiled.
“Because sometimes, magic really is the right answer.”
