Skyward Bound

by Detsella Morningdew

Rating: everyone
Tags: Alternate Universe, Adventure, Human
Length: 1882

Byran is left confused after what seems to be a very vivid dream. However, he learns all too soon that this may not be the case.

Byran is left confused after what seems to be a very vivid dream. However, after he gains shooting pains in his hands, he realizes that this "dream" may not be as ephemeral as he had originally assumed.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-06-22 15:00:01 UTC

Chapter I: The Dream

       Bryan stared out of his bedroom window, watching the sun set. Lying in his bed, he felt the soft warmth of the still-bright sunlight on his face.

The days certainly are getting longer, he thought, turning over to let the warm light fall on his back. It's almost 9:00, and the sun is still up.

       He reached out, pulling a thin sheet over himself, devoid of his usual blanket. He propped a pillow behind himself, raising himself to an upright position.

There's no school tomorrow. I think I'll just watch this instead.

       The sunset was quite odd tonight. It wasn't often that the sky was this clear at sunset, and while the sun's descent lacked the spectacular color that made it worthwhile, Bryan was waiting for something else. The clear sky, while an inconvenience for sunset-watching, meant something entirely different. Instead of looking at the yellow orb's descent, Bryan looked up at the steadily darkening sky.

       After all, it wasn't often that you got to see the stars appear so completely.

       Bryan almost gasped out loud. It wasn't often that the sky was this clear on any night and the view was spectacular. Never before were the stars so bright. Even the moon was so bright, it almost looked bigger. He looked at his clock, making a split second decision. He had never been one for stargazing. Well, he appreciated them, but memorizing constellations like his sister kept insisting was just a bit too far. Still, this required more than a window to view properly.

       After a few moments of groping beneath his bed, he managed to get a hold of both of his slippers, donning them as he stood up from his bed. Leaning over, he pushed the window open, smiling as a cool breeze drifted in.

       Bryan paused a minute, then climbed over his bed and onto the windowsill. The ground was only a short distance down, and he easily jumped down onto the cool grass, landing in a crouch. Walking over to the familiar hill in his backyard, he relaxed, letting himself appreciate the cool air and the stars above that allowed him to see so clearly even as the glow left by the sun disappeared. He laid down at the top of the hill, allowing his slippers to fall off his feet.

I am so lucky to have such a large yard, he thought to himself. No distractions, no light pollution, and... almost no noise.

       Strangely, they were rather close to town. Bryan's property was rather an anomaly. His parents had bought the land, thinking it was a tenth of its actual size. It wasn't really their fault that there was a decimal error in the description. Still, Bryan wasn't complaining. They had almost an entire forest on their own personal property.

       Bryan took a deep breath of the cool night air. Putting both hands behind his head as a sort of pillow, he looked up at the sky. For a few seconds, he tried to identify the Big Dipper, and when that failed, he tried to count the ones that were currently visible. That, however, proved impossible, as more were appearing every minute as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Mentally, he berated himself. He was here to relax, not to occupy his time mindlessly.

       He took another large breath and let it out slowly, relaxing himself, pointed his eyes at the stars, and just looked.

       A streak of light flew across the sky, its tail lingering before disappearing completely.

       Bryan chuckled. A shooting star. Now what would I wish for? he thought idly. Superpowers? Money? Flight?

       An idea struck him, and this time he actually laughed out loud. Yes, this was perfect.

       "I wish I could be a pony, just for the night."

       It was any Brony's dream. Of course, it wouldn't do, to be stuck like that.

       Bryan shook his head. Here I am, being practical about a fake wish-

       His train of thought was derailed as the "shooting star" from before came back from the horizon it had disappeared to.

Wait, what?

       It was also going slower. And bigger.

       Or was that closer? Anyway, it's tail was looking distinctly sparkly.

Stars don't work like-

       Then it hit him in the face at over a thousand miles per hour.

       For a nearly supersonic projectile, it was surprisingly painless.

       As in, he didn't feel it. At all. Cautiously, he opened up his eyes and stood up. The "shooting star", or whatever it actually was, was nowhere in sight.

       More importantly, though, was the fact that he was standing on all fours.

       Actually, the fact that he was on all fours didn't bother him. What bothered him was that in being on all fours, he was standing up.

       On all four hooves.

       Bryan's previous grin returned with full force. I don't know what it was that earned me this amazing dream, but i am totally going to exploit it.

       He looked himself over. His coat was a deep blue, matching the sky overhead almost perfectly. His mane, or at least what he could tell from his tail, was a variety of different blues, both lighter and darker than his coat. Most of the color groupings were lighter, though. Occasionally, he would see a hair of pure white. As he twisted to look at one of these hairs, he noticed something far more important, something that, on reflection, he probably should have checked from the start. He had wings!

       He spread them out with excitement, marveling at the new experience.

       Also, marveling that the muscles worked at all. But this, of course, was a dream. Why would they not work?

       First, though, he tried his legs out, starting to walk down the hill. Quickly that developed into a quick trot, which turned into a canter, then turned into a full-blown gallop.

       Bryan dashed into the woods, dodging tree after tree with ease. Almost as soon as he started, though, he skidded to a stop, using his wings to brake faster. He turned around to face the forest's entrance, and grinned.

       Suddenly, he shot forward, running as fast as possible, clearing the trees and running on, straight towards the hill he had occupied minutes before. At it's peak, he spread his wings to their fullest extent, giving them a gigantic flap. Instantly, he was rising into the air, each flap bringing him higher than should be physically possible.

Pegasus magic! he thought with a grin, looking back at the rapidly receding ground.

       Bryan looked forwards again, towards the stars.

I wonder how high I can get.

       Feeling determined, he beat his wings faster, but after a few moments it was clear that it wasn't helping much. He relaxed again, getting back into his previous rhythm, enjoying the sensation of flight.

       Briefly, he wished that there was some sort of cloud. He knew that it was a clear night, and that is what got him outside, but it would have been cool to stand on one, at least.

       He looked back towards the ground. It was amazing; he could see for miles around. His own house was just a speck in the distance. Idly, he turned, keeping his own house in sight. Even if it was a dream, he didn't want to get lost. He settled his flight path into a climbing spiral, occasionally changing directions, or turning it into a figure eight. Bryan was just starting a four-leaf clover design when he noticed just how dark the sky had gotten. He looked to the side and almost gasped as he saw an almost definite atmosphere boundary.

How high am I?

       Only then did he realize that he had been slowly increasing his wingbeats for a few minutes already. He looked back at the stars. They seemed... spaced out more. Or... closer?

       Bryan realized, as he began to have trouble breathing, that this was it. This was the moment to determine his real limit. Or at least, his dream limit.

       But it felt plenty real. He took a deep breath of what air remained, then closed his eyes as he beat his wings faster and faster, increasing his resemblance to a hummingbird as he made one last effort to gain lift on the rapidly diminishing air.

       Finally, he relaxed as his wings gave up all traction on their surroundings, leaving him only with his previous momentum. He opened his eyes in relief, just in time to react as a small, blinding object threatened to hit him in the face. He grabbed it with his hooves, but it was torn away by his momentum, striking him in the chest and expelling all of his remaining air. Instinctively, he tried to breathe in, but to his shock, there was nothing to breathe.

       Bryan started to fall, and instead of disappointment, he felt relief. Air was good. And apparently in this particular, very realistic dream, it was quite necessary. And he did not want to wake up yet. He looked around at the "star-scape", internally laughing at the absurdity.

But of course, it still is a dream, he thought. If I'm right, I just traveled to space under my own power, and touched a star. Which wasn't a ball of gas that keeps exploding.

       Finally, his wings hit resistance, and he took a deep breath, or at least as close to one as he could. He angled his wings into a dive, quickly reaching what was clearly his top speed. Which wasn't that fast.

So much for the Sonic Rainboom from orbit idea, he thought, disappointed. I mean, if I'm going to have a dream, why can't I have an awesome one?

       Bryan angled his wings inversely, spinning himself around.

Well, I did go to space. That is kind of cool.

       He added the same amount of angle to both wings, turning his roll into a corkscrew. Unfortunately, that reduced his speed considerably. He quickly corrected the mistake.

And I'm a pony. That's better than most of my other dreams. But who's counting?

       Bryan studied the city below, finding it far less interesting than the sky. At least it gave him time to locate his house. This was almost like a really slow-motion Google Earth. Without the search function. Or labels.

At least the flight simulator's better.

       After what felt like ages (and probably was), Bryan finally touched down on the cool grass of his backyard, ready to start a new adventure as a pony.

       The only problem was, he was tired. And his wings were unimaginably sore. His legs were also wobbly from not being used for several hours.

Well, this is inconvenient. What kind of dream makes you tired?

       Bryan walked over to his bedroom window, which was still open. With great difficulty (and a fair amount of awkward wing-flapping) he clambered back thorough the window and flopped into bed.

       Blearily, he looked at his clock. It was 1 AM.

       He was asleep within seconds.