In all of the training repertoire of the Wonderbolts, no drill was as infamous as the Mile High Dive. To fly straight up, five thousand two hundred and eighty feet into the air, fighting both gravity and the wind, left even the strongest fliers gasping for breath. Most newbies couldn’t even make it halfway through the climb.
Faster. Faster. Faster!
Of all truths that Rainbow Dash knew, all of them were that she was the fastest pony alive.
So why was Spitfire above her?
The captain blocked out the sun, and in its place Rainbow Dash could only see Spitfire’s blazing orange and yellow tail. No matter how fast Rainbow flapped her wings, the gap between her and her captain only grew as they raced to the thin line of cloud that marked the mile.
Rainbow Dash’s heart couldn’t beat any faster. Her wings could not cut the air any quicker. Her coat could not be more drenched in sweat. She was at her limit, and her limit could not surpass Spitfire. Rainbow’s eyes watered, and she blamed the blustering wind.
A thousand feet ahead, Spitfire flared her wings and stopped at exactly one mile above the starting point. Back, back, back she fell until her whole body pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees. Back, back, back, until her eyes faced Rainbow Dash beneath her.
Even from so far away, Rainbow Dash could see every detail of the fire that blazed behind the captain’s eyes. And in those eyes, Dash found a single truth, one that claimed dominance over any other that she had believed.
I am faster.
In one instant Spitfire vanished from view. A jet stream blasted past Rainbow Dash. Her wings froze, her ascent slowed, and for a split moment she fell. She wanted so much to look behind her at the speck of orange that so absolutely defeated her, but if she did she would go no higher. She steeled herself, grit her teeth, and flew.
With outstretched wings, Rainbow Dash stopped a few feet above the cloud marker.
If the climb tested a pony’s physical strength, then the dive tested her mental strength. Fear became the pegasus’ new opponent. To dive straight down at terminal velocity and to pull up as close to the ground as you possibly could, it was enough to test the grit of even the veterans.
Rainbow Dash held her wings as close to her body as possible and held her front hooves ahead of her. This is where she could catch up, this is where she could prove her speed. The pressure against her hooves mounted, becoming so great that it felt as if she was pushing against a brick wall. But Rainbow Dash was used to this wall, and she would shatter it just as she had done hundreds of times before.
Her hooves broke through, and the world around her turned into a blur. The orange speck steadily came closer and closer. A rainbow trailed behind her as the speck turned into a full-fledged pony. Soon after, the broad, flat cloud the Wonderbolts used as substitute for the ground came into view. Rainbow Dash squinted her eyes in concentration. If she were to touch that cloud, she would be disqualified. ‘Dead’ the Wonderbolts would call it, since during a real show there would be only hard earth.
Spitfire flared her wings yet again and with a powerful flap turned her vertical fall to a horizontal bolt of speed. While the only requirement for the dive was pulling up below twelve feet, it was a point of pride for the Wonderbolts to get as close to the ground as possible. It was no different for Dash. From directly above, Rainbow Dash couldn’t see how close she pulled up from the ground. It didn’t matter, she would get closer and pull up faster.
The final part of the Mile High Dive was a two hundred yard sprint to the finish line. It was another opportunity for Dash to catch up, another opportunity to win, another opportunity to prove she was the best. She would not let this chance go to waste.
Just as Spitfire before her, Rainbow Dash spread out her wings and started her transition into the sprint. A whistle pierced the air.
The finish line had been crossed.
Rainbow Dash was supposed to keep going. All the Wonderbolts taking part in the drill were supposed to keep going. They were not to stop until they finished.
But Dash stopped. There was no point anymore. Once again, Spitfire completed the drill before Rainbow Dash could even finish her dive.
Gusts of wind flew past her as the other Wonderbolts caught up, but Dash didn’t pay attention to them and floated to stand on the cloud. Hanging her head, she grit her teeth and tightly shut her eyes.
Why? Why, in every drill, did she have to chase after Spitfire? Not just in the technique training like in turn drills and spin drills, but even in the speed training Rainbow Dash couldn’t catch up. She couldn’t pull off a sonic rainboom fast enough during the sprints, and she didn’t have the endurance to keep up during the longer races.
But the dive, she should be able to absolutely destroy every other pony during the dive. Even if her climbing skills were weak, her greatest weapon, the sonic rainboom, should be enough during the dive and sprint to make up for it. But no, even that wasn’t enough.
“Finish the drill, Dash.”
Every strand on Rainbow Dash’s coat stood on end, and the first thing she saw when she raised her head was Spitfire’s glare. There were so many things Dash wanted to say, but none of them could change a thing. Instead, she bit her tongue and gave her captain a nod.
Rainbow Dash took to the air and flew to the finish line. The last to do so.
After the Mile High Dive, Spitfire sent a call to all the new recruits to meet her at the training stadium right in the center of Wonderbolt headquarters. Rainbow Dash and six others stood in a neat row as Spitfire paced in front of them, examining each one for a flaw in uniform. The cadets tried their best not to fidget. Though none of them said it, each one knew exactly what was to be discussed during this little meeting.
Every year a new flock of recruits would join Wonderbolt ranks, and every year only one would be chosen to join the flight team during their annual tours through Equestria. It was their one chance to show everyone that they were better than their peers.
Her inspection complete, Spitfire stopped pacing. Her eyes were steady but unreadable. She stayed silent for a full minute and made sure, in that time, to meet eyes with each of them. Her eyes lingered on Rainbow Dash’s violet-pink eyes, and Dash did not dare look away.
“You have all done remarkably during your short time here,” Spitfire said, her words sincere. “I know that each of you have given everything you have during our training.” She paused to look down the row of recruits yet again. “The Wonderbolts’ tour begins in only six short months. Traditionally, only one newbie would be chosen to join the flight team to participate in rehearsals and the actual shows, but this time around I had to break tradition.”
Spitfire took a deep breath. “None of you have the required skill to join the flight team. There will be no new additions to the team. But don’t let this stop you from going forward. I know for a fact each of you have the potential to wear the Wonderbolt uniform, but none of you have yet reached that potential.”
Some wiped their eyes with a foreleg. Some bit their tongues to keep their sobs at bay. Some hung their head. There was silence. Nothing else needed to be said. They all knew that Spitfire spoke the truth. They all knew of their own weakness and inability. All of them knew, except for one.
“What!?” Rainbow Dash broke from the line and stepped up to Spitfire. “You gotta be kidding. We both know I’m the best one here. You should be giving that spot to me!”
Spitfire glared at Rainbow Dash. “The rest of you are dismissed,” Spitfire said without breaking eye contact. “I’d like to have a few words with Dash here.”
The rest of the recruits stared wide-eyed at the two for a few seconds before a couple of them regained enough sense to walk away. The rest followed and soon it was only Rainbow Dash and Spitfire left on the training field.
“This isn’t about being the best,” Spitfire said. “This is about having the skill to join the flight team.”
“And I do!” Rainbow snapped. “I always come right behind you in every drill we do. I even beat out Wonderbolts that are already on the flight team.”
“That so? Because the way I remember it, you’re always right behind me right until I finish, then you just stop and let others pass you.”
“What does it matter if I finish or not? The point is that I’m faster than everypony except you.”
“The point is that you give up too easily.”
The force of Spitfire’s statement sent Rainbow Dash stumbling back, but she recovered and stepped even closer to Spitfire, chest to chest.
“I don’t.”
Spitfire sharpened her glare. “From what I’ve seen, you do, and that’s partly the reason why you haven’t been picked, and that’s that.”
Spitfire was done and turned to walk away. Unfortunately, Rainbow Dash was not.
“Then I’ll prove that I don’t,” she said through bared teeth. “I’ll prove it by beating you. Would a pony that gives up be able to do that?”
Looking over her shoulder, Spitfire smirked. “I’m pretty sure we already established who beats who by now.”
“Then I’ll train.”
Spitfire shook her head and laughed. “Train? Alright, I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you a chance. One month. If, after one month, you can beat me at the dive, I’ll reconsider adding you to the flight team. Deal?”
Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes. “Deal.” With a flap of her wings, she took to the air and was about to speed off until Spitfire called out to her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Dash fell to the ground, wings frozen. “Uh, to train?”
“Your day ain’t over, rookie,” Spitfire scolded. “What? You think that I’m gonna let you do whatever you want during the month? If you’re going to train, you train on your own time, got it?”
“Got it,” Rainbow Dash said, looking away.
It looked like the captain of the Wonderbolts wasn’t feeling that generous.
Of all the places where Rainbow Dash practiced, none she enjoyed more than Sweet Apple Acres. Despite all the apple trees, the orchard still had plenty of wide open space to practice dives and sprints. Not to mention the smell of apples. And sometimes, if she was lucky, Applejack would bring her some cider.
But as Dash climbed to the mile marker, the smell of apples and the taste of cider was far from her mind. All she could think of was the all-consuming desire to win. The mile marker lay above her. She shot out her wings and hung in the air for a split second.
This part.
This part always happened in slow motion. The world seemed to slow down, gravity disappeared, and, for just an instant, she was the absolute center by which Equus, the sun, and the moon revolved.
She dived and the wind dried out her eyes. Just as before, she held out her hooves and broke through the sound barrier. The cloud marking the ground came in quick, and, at the last possible moment, Rainbow Dash pulled up and bolted to the the finish line two hundred feet away. She passed it and breathed a sigh as she alighted by an apple tree to check her stopwatch.
No progress. Ten times she did the dive, yet her time never changed more than a second. Damn it, at this rate she’d never beat Spitfire in a month. She’d be lucky to beat Spitfire in a year. Her grip tightened around the watch. There must be some technique or trick she was missing.
A tinge of red at the corner of her eye caught Dash’s attention. Big Macintosh, Applejack’s older brother, was hitched to a cart full of baskets of apples. He stared at her with his usual half-lidded gaze. Not a word came from him. It was almost as if he was waiting for her to do the dive again. Well, if he wanted a show, she’d make sure it was best damn show he ever saw.
Deep breath. This was the one. This was the one where she would show improvement. She just needed to concentrate.
She went through the drill perfectly, and when she landed on the ground, she did so right in front of Big Macintosh, a huge grin on her face. That grin vanished when she saw how little his expression changed. He looked down at her, head tilted as if she were a puzzle to figure out.
“You want my advice?” he asked.
Rainbow Dash clicked her tongue and glared at him. “If your advice is ‘go faster’, I already know. What do you know about flying, anyway? You’re just an earth pony.”
Macintosh grunted and continued on his way toward the barn. “Your launch is weak, your drop is sloppy, and you lose a ton of momentum on your pull up. Not to mention you touched the ground cloud, that’s an automatic disqualification.”
“Y-you know about the Mile High Dive?” Rainbow Dash asked, trotting to catch up to him.
“It’s one of the basic drills,” Macintosh said. “Tests endurance, speed, focus, decision making. The Wonderbolts use it to figure out who’s good enough to perform shows, but I’m sure you know all about that, bein’ one yourself.”
“Uh, yeah,” Rainbow Dash said, rubbing the back of her neck. “But how do you know so much about it?”
A shrug was her answer. “Sorry Miss Dash, but I gotta get these apples stored, but I’d be happy to talk to ya more about flying after work. ‘Til then, probably the fastest way for ya to get better is to stop usin’ your sonic rainboom during your dive.”
“What?” Dash stayed beside him. “But that’s my secret weapon!”
“Well sure, but it’s risky. It’s a ton of speed so you gotta spend a ton of energy on the transition to the sprint, and you got a bigger chance of hittin’ the ground cloud. And that ain’t a jab against ya. Even Spitfire would have trouble slowin’ down on the pull up with that kind of speed, and she’s got a good eight inches on your wingspan.”
Rainbow Dash spat. “You’re crazy. There’s no way I’m gonna just abandon the rainboom. It’s my ace in the hole.”
Macintosh shrugged again and continued on without another word. Rainbow Dash did not follow and glared at his backside as he headed to the barn. The nerve of some ponies. They read a book or talk to a pegasus about flying and all of a sudden they think they know everything.
The sonic rainboom remained in the routine, but Rainbow Dash also kept in mind the ground cloud. Under no circumstances could she touch it, otherwise it was an automatic loss. Ten more times she went through the drill, ten more times she went no faster, ten more times she touched the cloud. After the tenth time, she stared at the grooves in the cloud.
Dammit, did she always get disqualified on the dive? Thinking back, Rainbow Dash realized that, since Spitfire always finished the drill before Dash pulled up from her dive, she never actually completed the transition between dive and sprint during an actual practice.
Dash groaned and ran a hoof through her mane. Maybe Macintosh was right. At the very least it wouldn’t hurt to try, especially since he was nowhere to be seen, and so couldn’t brag about being right.
Climb, dive, sprint. This time without the rainboom. It felt both better and worse. The dive was slower, no doubt about that, and so it felt like a step backwards. Something that actively made her flying worse. And yet, the pull up was definitely easier, and she managed to avoid touching the ground cloud, and somehow, she felt as if she hit the sprint faster.
After running the drill, Rainbow Dash checked her stop watch. The result made her heart drop. The time was exactly the same as her last run.
The sky settled into an orange glow as the sun touched the horizon. It was the end of the workday for humble farmers such as Big Macintosh, and on a whim he decided to see if Rainbow Dash was still practicing the dive. He found her staring at a watch like a parent would glare at their misbehaving foal.
“You were...right,” Rainbow Dash spat out the last word as Macintosh approached. “The sonic rainboom killed my reaction time, and without it, it’s was way easier to transfer speed into the sprint.” She wiped her eyes with a foreleg. “It sucks, you know? The one thing I have that nopony else does, and it doesn’t even matter.”
“Why’re ya so set on masterin’ the dive? Don’t you practice it enough during your Wonderbolt training?”
Rainbow Dash glowered and her eyes flared with rage. “I didn’t make the team this year, so I made a bet with Spitfire. If I can beat her at the dive in a month then she’ll let me join the flight team.”
Big Mac quirked an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be best to just try again next year? Why are you rushing?”
Rainbow Dash glared at him, and he felt the force of her gaze collide with his chest. The pink of her irises dominated her eyes as her pupils shrunk to needlepoints. He could actually feel her pride rising from her and thickening the air around them. “Because I want to prove to everypony that I’m the best.”
For a split second Mac could have sworn her rainbow mane turned orange and yellow. He blinked away the nostalgia and stifled a chuckle. His eyes landed on the stopwatch Rainbow Dash carried. “Get any faster?”
Rainbow Dash growled and threw the stopwatch aside. “No! I just don’t get it. I thought if I practiced enough I could find some sort of trick to do it faster, but I couldn’t.” She sighed and stared wistfully at the few clouds floating leisurely above them. “Maybe I’ve reached my peak, you know? Sort of like those famous musicians and painters that do their best work in their twenties.”
Macintosh laughed, earning another glare from Rainbow Dash. He ignored it. “Let me guess. You were born fast. Took to flying even better than other pegasi your age. Probably the top in your flight class without even having to work for it. You were just born with buckets of natural talent. Am I close?”
“Well duh,” Rainbow Dash said. “But now I’m with the Wonderbolts. What if all that talent isn’t good enough anymore?”
“Ain’t no if. It’s definitely not enough anymore.”
“You don’t have to be so honest about it!’ Rainbow Dash snapped. “So what? Is that it for me? Am I always going to be behind Spitfire no matter what? Is this as far as I go?” Her voice cracked and her eyes watered. She stared at the ground to hide them.
Macintosh placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “Talent grows with hard work.”
The sun had set and the stars twinkled in the sky. It was a new moon, and yet, when Rainbow Dash looked up at him, her eyes shined with resolve. Mac’s heart skipped a beat, and for a pony his size that was a good quart of blood. He sighed. These genius speedsters were going to be the death of him.
“I’m gonna coach ya.”
“Coach me?” Rainbow Dash repeated. She cracked a smirk. “You train me? Uh, I’m a Wonderbolt, and you’re just a pony that probably read a book on flying. I mean, have you ever trained a high-performance athlete before, or even a pegasus?”
“Eeyup.”
Rainbow Dash burst into laughter. “Yeah, okay. You know what? I’ll give you a day. If I’m impressed, I’ll let you be my coach. You free tomorrow?”
“Eeyup. Ah’ll meet you here at five in the morning.”
“Deal,” Rainbow Dash said. “And when I get here, you better have a plan.”
Macintosh smirked. “Always do.”
The eastern horizon glowed with a gentle orange light, and Rainbow Dash stood atop the Apple family farmstead to watch the horizon. Was she doing the right thing by trusting Macintosh’s coaching? He had been right about the sonic rainboom yesterday, but that might have been a lucky guess. Besides, if she couldn’t do anything to speed up her time, then she doubted Macintosh could. Well, at the very least, if he was just pulling her wing, she would only have wasted a day.
A whistle brought Dash’s attention to the ground. Big Macintosh, wearing saddlebags, beckoned her down right where she was training yesterday.
“We’re gonna shave ten seconds off your time,” he said as she landed in front of him.
“If you can do that then I’ll make you my coach for life.”
Macintosh nodded and produced a notebook from his saddlebag. “Your biggest weakness is the transitions: the launch, the drop, and the pull up. That’s what we’re gonna work on today, and that’s how we’re gonna get those ten seconds. You know what makes a good launch?”
Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Yeah, sure. You flap your wings as hard as you can at the same time you jump, then you just flap like hell.”
Macintosh nodded. “Good start, but it’s not at the same time. You gotta jump just an instant before you flap. Launch, then fly about ten feet straight up. Do that a hundred times.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
It was not. Her back hooves barely left the ground before Macintosh stopped her again. Her timing was off, apparently. With a roll of her eyes, Rainbow Dash tried again. No, the first wingbeat came too soon. Again. Too soon. Again. Too Late. Again. Too soon.
Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth and tried again. She waited for Macintosh to say something, to critique her timing once more, but his voice never came. With no payoff to her anticipation, Rainbow Dash forgot to flap her wings a second time and fell on her back.
“Perfect,” Macintosh said. “The launch, not the fall. If you could not fall, that’d be more than fine.”
As it turned out, Macintosh could use sarcasm. You learn something new everyday, Rainbow supposed. She jumped again, and again Macintosh didn’t say anything. She reached ten feet in the air, and floated back down. Now that she had gotten the timing, she started her hundred reps.
The only sound around them was the click of the stopwatch as Macintosh recorded her time. From the corner of her eye, Rainbow Dash could see the tight frown on Mac’s face as he jotted down the numbers. Her wings hesitated for just a moment.
“Timing!” Mac barked, and Rainbow Dash grit her teeth and focused back on the sky above her. It took her another three jumps to reestablish the proper rhythm.
If Dash focused on the stare Mac was training on her, then she would mess up again, but it was hard to concentrate with his eyes burning a hole right through her. Soon, Mac discarded the stopwatch and notebook altogether and came right up to her. He furrowed his brow and circled her a few times.
The sky. Just pay attention to the sky, Rainbow Dash told herself. Dammit, but not even Spitfire looked so intense when she watched Rainbow train. Then again, Rainbow wasn’t the only pony under Spitfire’s eye.
“Gotta be honest with ya,” Macintosh said, “I don’t quite get it. Sure, being the new recruit flyin’ with famous Wonderbolts would make a name for ya, might even convince ponies you’re the best flier around. But you’re already one of the big heroes of Equestria. Everypony already knows your name, but still you’re rushin’ forward like your tail’s on fire. Why’re you so set on this?”
One hundred launches. Rainbow Dash stopped and stared at the ground as she caught her breath. She took a hoof and scraped the dirt. “I know I’m already a big deal, but that’s because I’m an Element of Harmony, and I gotta share that with five other mares. Don’t get me wrong, they’re the best friends a mare could have, but I don’t want ponies to see me and go ‘that’s the Element of Loyalty’. I want them to go ‘That’s Rainbow Dash, the best flier in the world’.”
Rainbow Dash sighed and rolled her shoulders. She stared up at the thick clouds covering most of the sky. “Flying’s what I’m good at. Like, really good at, and if I can’t win this race, then what’s the point? I’ve wanted to be a Wonderbolt since I was a filly. I can’t stop now, not when I’m so close. Not when I can almost hear the crowd cheering my name, all eyes on me, feeling all important like...like...”
“Like you mean something.” Macintosh took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, and when Dash turned to him with a tilt of her head, he smiled. “You remind me of an old friend of mine.”
Dash smiled. “Were they as cool as me?”
“Even cooler.”
“What? No way, that’s impossible.”
Macintosh chuckled. “It looks like you got the launch taken care of. C’mon, let’s start workin’ on the drop.”
The drop, the second transition in the dive drill. Rainbow Dash never gave it much thought. It seemed simple enough really: just stop beating your wings, turn around, and fall. But no. According to Macintosh, there were small, little details that made up a good drop. Timing, momentum, and positioning. Rainbow Dash tried to pay attention to all the technical stuff, she really did, but she felt like she was back at flight school all over again.
“...but you gotta remember that it’s gonna be close to impossible to beat Spitfire at the climb.”
Rainbow Dash snapped to attention. “What?”
“She’s got a bigger wingspan than you. She can get higher with fewer wingbeats. That’s why the drop and the pull up are gonna be real important, and that’s why we’re gonna be practicing those together. Now if ya do manage to beat her at the climb, then don’t worry, I won’t mind none.”
The drop was a bit easier for Rainbow Dash to get a handle of. Unlike the launch, where timing was king, the drop required more spatial awareness and intuition, two of Rainbow’s strengths. Of utmost importance was finding the right place to stop flapping her wings in order for momentum to carry her the rest of the way to the mile marker. The sooner she could stop flapping, the sooner she could start her one hundred eighty degree pivot.
From there came the dive and the pull up. This was by far what came most naturally for her. It was all about turning vertical speed into horizontal speed, and she had been doing dives like these since she was a filly.
With every flight, Rainbow Dash could feel herself getting just a little bit better, a little bit tighter. Each time she ran through the course, she felt more confident, more assured of herself and her talent. It was the complete opposite of yesterday. Yesterday she felt stuck, but now, now it was as if she couldn’t help but rocket forward.
The timing of her wings and jump at take off, the tightness of the pivot at the top of the drop, the smoothness and power at the curve into the sprint. Each time felt like a vast improvement upon the last. She crossed the finish line, and the world seemed to slow. The ground beneath her, the sky above her, it faded away into white.
She was having fun.
An hour of practice had passed when Macintosh called down Dash. She landed in front of him, one of her eyebrows raised in a questioning look.
“You got the transitions down, so let’s do one for real,” Macintosh said.
“Yes!” Rainbow Dash cheered with a grin. Once ready, she got on her mark on the ground cloud, and looked up at the mile marker above her. Her heart beat as if trying to prove it was the fastest heart in the world.
Macintosh whistled, and she was off. She felt good. Her body had warmed up from all the practice, yet she felt no fatigue as she climbed higher. The launch was practically perfect, and that perfection helped lighten her spirits and allowed her wings to move faster.
She aced the drop and moved into the dive. Though she still missed the speed of her sonic rainboom, the rush of air that whipped her mane and eagerly filled her lungs felt comforting at such high velocity. Rainbow Dash was born to cut through the air like this, built to fly and to fall and shoot across the sky. And as she pulled up from her dive and into the sprint, the ground cloud disintegrated beneath the force of her speed.
She zoomed past the finish line and did not stop. How could she when she was in the very height of euphoria? Twirling and spinning through the air like a dancer on her stage, Rainbow Dash felt her heart flutter along. She had gotten faster, there was no need to look at a stopwatch to prove it. But how much faster?
Curiosity weighed her down until her hooves touched solid ground again.
“That was one hell of a flight.” Macintosh smiled and gave her the stopwatch.
Dash’s heart skipped a beat. Fifteen seconds. Fifteen whole seconds she managed to cut from her time. She smiled a grin wider than her mouth. Without a second thought, she gave Macintosh a tight hug.
“Thanks, Mac,” Dash said into his neck. “I’m sorry I ever thought you were just trying to get a date with me.”
Macintosh chuckled. “You can thank me after you take a shower. You stink.”
“Oh yeah, as if you should talk, Mr. Farmer.” Rainbow Dash stepped back with a smile. “So what’s next?”
A gentle breeze blew through the apple trees, and Macintosh smiled as he stared up at the sky. The clouds had been taken away, and there was now only a clear blue sky above them. He didn’t take his gaze away as he spoke.
“A high protein lunch. Right now your muscles are all torn up, and you need to eat in order for them to build themselves bigger and better. Some rest will help too,” Mac said. “You did good today.”
“No, I mean, like, what’s the plan for this month?”
“We’ll keep practicing your transitions. They look good, but you need to be able to do ‘em without any thinkin’ involved. Then we’re gonna focus on buildin’ up strength in your wings.”
Dash tilted her head. “How’re we going to do that?”
“Aqua training.”
Dash tilted her head the other way.
As it turned out, aqua training simply meant submerging her body in a lake near Sweet Apple Acres and flapping her wings as hard as she could for thirty seconds. Rainbow Dash didn’t understand why Mac had to use a fancy-ass name for it. He could have just called it ‘getting in water and flapping your wings like a madmare’ training, and she would have understood.
“Keep it up!” Macintosh called out to her from the shore. “We’re aiming for thirty second sprints and ninety seconds of rest. Once we get to the point where you can do this for two minutes with thirty seconds of rest we’ll move up to mud.”
Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth but endured. Macintosh was right about the sonic rainboom, and he was right about the transition training, so she pretty much had to trust him at least a little.
Macintosh and Rainbow were busy during the week, he with farming and she with Wonderbolts training, but after both were finished they would meet at the training field at Sweet Apple Acres and practice. Rainbow Dash would go through the transitions, and Macintosh would offer tips on her posture, then it would be exercises, and then they would talk about diet.
It was slow going at first. Rainbow Dash didn’t have another day like that first day of coaching where every pass through the course led to greater leaps in improvement, but she was still getting better a little at a time, and that was enough for her.
Two weeks had passed, and Dash stood in a neat row in the middle of the training stadium with the rest of her peers, waiting for Spitfire to pass out the exercise menu for the week, Rainbow Dash didn’t feel all that different. She knew in her mind that she had gotten faster, she had pages of finish times to prove that, and yet it had been two weeks since she had competed head to head against Spitfire. She couldn’t help but wonder if all her training would be enough.
“Hit your marks,” Spitfire called out. “We’re doing the Mile High Dive.”
Rainbow Dash’s heart stopped for several seconds and then, as if to make up for the break, it beat three times as fast. This was it. This was her chance to mark her progress in a real race. No, not only that. This might be her chance to beat Spitfire. Rainbow Dash gulped, and took off to the ground cloud where the race would start.
“I want you to give it all you got,” Spitfire said to them. “I got a special guest watching all of you from the observatory, and he’s taking notes.”
Way on the other side of the stadium was the observatory, a thin structure that bulbed out at the top like an upside down Hearth's Warming ornament. It was built out of actual steel and glass rather than cloud to accommodate non-pegasi. Rainbow Dash squinted but the giant panes of glass showed nothing but Cloudsdale’s reflection.
The referee called the ponies to their marks, and Rainbow Dash shook her head to focus on the dive. The whistle and the launch. It all happened in an instant, and to Rainbow Dash’s delight she took off perfectly. Now she just needed to keep Mac’s advice in her head. Steady pace. Consistency was more important than speed in the climb. Save a burst of speed for the top.
The mass of new recruits quickly fell away, leaving only Spitfire and Rainbow Dash fighting for dominance. Dash didn’t allow Spitfire to break away. She was doing it. She was keeping up with Spitfire. Dash grinned and flapped harder. She pulled ahead.
She was winning. Rainbow Dash was winning.
“Not bad,” Spitfire said, coming up beside her. Dash’s heart almost stopped again as she saw the smirk on Spitfire’s face. “Looks like I can finally take this seriously.”
Seven, Macintosh had said. Seven wingbeats per second. The average speed an average-sized pegasus must reach in order to win over gravity on a vertical climb. Most Wonderbolts usually reached nine at top speed. Dash, with all her might, could clock at eleven. At the exact moment Spitfire passed Rainbow Dash, the captain of the Wonderbolts had a steady rhythm of five.
Some pegasi are born with greater ability. Some are born with larger wingspans. Some are born with lighter bodies. Some are born with sharper instincts.
This was the truth Rainbow Dash saw in Spitfire’s eyes. It was a truth that shone bright and clear even from two thousand feet away.
As Spitfire dove past Dash like a bolt of lightning, Dash turned her head to look at the shrinking orange speck below her. Her wings stopped. She weakened. She fell.
“How long?”
Rainbow Dash had ditched the rest of training to follow Spitfire into the observatory. She had to know. Spitfire didn’t seem too surprised as she pressed the elevator call button.
“How long what?” Spitfire asked.
“How long were you going easy on me?” Rainbow Dash joined Spitfire inside the elevator.
“What would be the point of crushing newbies on the drills? Me and the rest of the flight team train with you guys to give you a standard, one that tells you where we expect you to be.”
“So, what, you decide to give up being a measuring stick so you could crush me?” Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth. She didn’t know what made her more upset: that Spitfire had been holding back all this time, or that she didn’t hold back the moment Rainbow Dash was going to beat her.
“I didn’t give it up. You reached the first standard, so I showed you the next one.”
Rainbow Dash kicked the wall and left a dent in the sheet of metal. “So there’s more? You’re even better than that?”
“Nope. That was it. That’s all I got. And it’s what you’re going to have to beat in order for me to reconsider your place within the team.”
Dash wiped her eyes with a foreleg and the elevator doors opened with a ding. On the other side was a large room with dozens of sofas and chairs facing the floor to ceiling glass panes that looked out at the stadium. A tinge of red caught Rainbow’s eye. Sitting beside a bar table, pen in mouth, was none other than Big Macintosh.
“How’d they look?” Spitfire asked.
“You were right, not an all-arounder among ‘em.” Macintosh closed his notebook and gave it to Spitfire. “Here’re my notes. Hope they can be of use.”
“They always are.”
“M-Macintosh!” Rainbow Dash finally gathered the mental facilities to say something. “What are you doing here?”
Macintosh smiled. “Spitfire always asks me to take a look at the new recruits. By the way, Spitfire, I left some cider for ya in your office.” He gave Spitfire a wink, and she smiled back.
“Ah, the perks of having friends in agriculture,” she said with a lick of her lips. “I gotta get back to training, and you should too, Dash. C’mon, let’s go.”
“You mind if I borrow her for a bit?” Macintosh asked. “I’d like to catch up.”
Spitfire frowned and stared at Big Macintosh for a few seconds. “Yeah, alright. Just don’t keep her too long. Now’s not the time to skip out on training. And thanks again for giving me your input.”
Big Macintosh nodded, and Spitfire went back the way she came. Between going with her and staying with Macintosh, Rainbow Dash had a hard time choosing which was worse. Macintosh was the last pony she wanted to talk to right now, especially since he had a front row seat to her performance earlier. There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to bring it up.
“Bet you’re wonderin’ how I know Spitfire, huh?” Macintosh asked.
Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. Did he not see her last run of the dive, or did he just not care. Either way, she sure wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uh, yeah.”
Macintosh smiled and stared out the window at the the stadium of clouds. “We were friends at the same flight academy. Course, I was in the sports science program, studying to be a professional coach.” He sighed and looked back at Rainbow Dash, his smile shrinking slightly.
“Back then, I would’ve given anything for a pair of wings. Even if it was only for a minute, I wanted to know what it felt like to fly on my own. Closest I ever got was training pegasi. When they flew, by Celestia, it almost felt like I was right next to ‘em. And when they fell, well, it was about the worst feeling in the world.”
Rainbow Dash wiped her eyes. “Spitfire was holding back all this time.”
Macintosh’s smiled faded and he looked away from her. For the very first time, Rainbow Dash saw a bit of anger on his face. His eyes were narrowed in a glare, and his jaw stiffened. “Sorry Dash, it’s my fault. I thought working on the drop and the pull up would be enough to catch up to her, but she’s gotten worlds better at those since the last time I saw her fly. I should’ve focused more on building up your strength. It’s the best way to make up for her larger wingspan. And from now on I’ll add…”
Rainbow Dash grit her teeth as Macintosh kept talking. Guilt and rage bubbled in her chest in equal measure, until she could no longer contain either of them. “Why aren’t you blaming me?” she shouted at him. They both stared at each other in silence for a few long moments.
“I’m the one that fell,” Rainbow Dash continued in a softer voice, almost a whisper. “I’m the one that gave up. If I can’t finish a race then your training doesn't matter.”
Macintosh took a deep breath. “Then why didn’t you finish?”
Rainbow Dash hung her head. “Because I’ll never win against Spitfire. No matter how much you train me.”
Macintosh shook his head and turned back to glass, back to the view of the stadium. He raised a hoof by his head and pressed it against the glass. “You ain’t the only pony that can’t stand to look at Spitfire from below, but I’m just an Earth pony, and I’m just a coach. I can’t fly, and I can’t beat her on my own. But ain’t it amazing, Dash, that you were lucky enough to be born with wings to fight with? And ain’t it amazing that I can help you, in my own small way?”
Big Macintosh turned and placed a gentle hoof on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. She looked up at him, and their eyes met. “If you finish a race second, third, or dead last, so long as you fought until the very end, I won’t ever blame you for losing. I’m the coach, you’re the flyer. Your job is to finish with everything you got, my job is to make sure you finish first. That’s all there is to it.”
Dash clenched her teeth together to fight back the water in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” Rainbow Dash whispered.
Macintosh nodded. “It’s okay. Let’s get back to work.”
The last two weeks passed quickly but not easily. With renewed resolve, Rainbow Dash hurtled straight into the immense challenge ahead of her. She had graduated to mud, and though her back and wings were sore beyond mortal understanding, she pressed on. She could hit her transitions without even thinking. She continued to gain speed through the course, and her confidence grew with it. She was determined, now more than ever, to not only beat Spitfire, but to finish the course itself.
The race was set to happen at noon on Sweet Apple Acres, giving Dash the home field advantage. Only she and Spitfire would be present. Not even Macintosh would be there. Dash was too afraid of him distracting her with just his presence. She knew it was a bit selfish, but at least Macintosh didn’t seem to mind.
On the day of the race, after two days of rest, Dash did laps around Sweet Apple Acres to warm up, all the while she kept her eyes on the course. After a few laps, Rainbow Dash floated onto the farmstead’s roof. Just as the sun reached it’s highest point, a yellow and orange streak split the sky. Spitfire alighted upon the roof right beside Rainbow Dash. She took a deep breath to take in the scent of apples and smiled.
“Been a long time since I’ve been here,” Spitfire said. Her eyes turned serious. “Are you ready?”
Rainbow Dash nodded. She looked down at the farm. Though there were at least two ponies out there somewhere, the farm felt completely empty.
“It’s just us, huh?” Rainbow Dash said. “No cheering crowds, no big lights, no Wonderbolt uniforms.”
“Yeah. Just you and me. Makes it more intense.” Spitfire stared up at the slightly overcast sky. “To our marks then, but, just to let you know, I’m going all out from the very beginning.”
“Well duh,” Rainbow Dash said.
The two pegasus flew to the ground cloud, the starting point. Rainbow Dash tried to calm down her furiously beating heart as she crouched to begin the race.
“See that cloud?” Spitfire asked. “Once it completely covers the sun, we’ll go.”
Rainbow Dash nodded and focused intensely on that cloud. Would she be able to beat Spitfire this time? She had to, there was no other choice. She needed to fly with the Wonderbolts, she couldn’t let Mac’s training go to waste.
The farm became grayer as the cloud blocked the sun. Dash’s launch was perfect, and the first hundred feet were absolutely effortless. Spitfire was right next to her, neither of them gaining the lead, and it stayed that way even as they approached the halfway point to the mile marker.
Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth against the strain. Her wings were stronger now, she could move them faster, yet the climb was still the most arduous part of the drill. Her wings were on fire, and they screamed at her to stop, but she would not stop. Not when Spitfire was still beside her.
Sweat drenched Rainbow Dash’s coat as the mile marker quickly approached. A hundred feet. Fifty feet. Ten feet. Dash spread out her wings as far as they would go and flapped them once as hard as she could. She stopped her wings, but the momentum carried her forward. The cloud floated away from the sun, and Dash saw it’s blinding light without a single pony above her.
The world slowed as Rainbow Dash did her pivot. She chanced a sideways glance at Spitfire, and her heart stopped as she realized that the captain was already done with her pivot. Dash’s wing twitched, but she narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth. She wasn’t about to give up yet, not when she could still fight.
They dived, and the tail’s-width Spitfire had managed to gain almost disappeared. The howling wind rushing past Dash’s ears blocked out every other sound. She compressed herself as much as she could to make herself more aerodynamic.
They remained neck and neck through the dive, forcing Rainbow Dash to concentrate on the transition to the sprint. This was it, the last few seconds of the race. Spitfire and Rainbow Dash flared out their wings and pulled up into the sprint. The world faded until nothing was left but Rainbow Dash, Spitfire, and the finish line.
She needed to win.
A race between two pegasi, no matter if in front of a thousand cheering ponies or in front of no one put the racers and their pride, always ended the same. The winner, spurred on by victory, would rise up into the air to claim the sky that was so rightfully theirs. The loser, carrying the burden of loss, would float to the ground.
At that split second when Dash crossed the finish line, she spread out her wings and glided to the ground, her head down.
Spitfire stared from above. A shiver ran down her back as, for the very first time, she felt the immense talent that so greedily wanted to swallow her up. “You did good,” Spitfire said from the air.
Dash remained in place. She bit her lip and tried to fight the water in her eyes. She couldn’t bare to do anything. She couldn’t even bare to think. She had lost. Her training, a waste. That was it. Heavy hoofsteps came toward Rainbow Dash, and she stiffened. She looked up to see Big Macintosh coming toward her, and she quickly looked away.
“I...I…” She wanted so much to apologize, both for losing the race and for wasting all the time they spent together.
“It’s okay,” Mac whispered and placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. Rainbow Dash pressed her forehead against his chest, and stayed there for a good, long while.
“I figured you were training her, Mac,” Spitfire said, landing in front of them. “It’s the only way to explain how she got so much better in so little time.”
“Eeyup,” Mac said.
Spitfire glared at Rainbow Dash, head still buried in Mac’s chest. “Hey, c’mon, enough of that. Try to lose with some dignity.”
Macintosh chuckled and gave her a smirk. “As if you never cried into my chest after coming in second.”
Spitfire’s cheeks turned a bright red. “Yeah, well...Dash, I want you to face me. I got something to tell you.”
Dash stepped away from Macintosh and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath and puffed out her chest, ready for anything Spitfire had to say.
“What is it?” Dash asked.
Spitfire pressed her lips into a thin line and reached out her hoof towards Dash. “Rainbow Dash, as Captain of the Wonderbolts, I would like to invite you to the Wonderbolts flight team.”
Dash’s heart jumped into her throat, and she stared at Spitfire’s hoof. All she had to do was reach out and shake. Her childhood dream, everything she had worked for not just in the past month but for almost her entire life, was right there. So why didn’t it feel good? Why did she have this sinking feeling in her gut.
She knew why.
“Sorry, but a deal’s a deal. I didn’t win, so I can’t–”
A hoof pressed her head down in a bow. “She accepts,” Macintosh said.
“Mac!” Dash swiped his hoof off of her. “I can’t! I’m still not good enough. I didn’t–”
“What is it with you super talented pegasi and your inflated egos?” Macintosh interrupted. “The captain of the Wonderbolts is offering you a place on the team.” Mac’s eyes bored right into hers. “Do you really think she’s dumb enough to give it to you just because she feels sorry for you?”
“It’s true, Dash. I wouldn’t offer it to you unless I was sure you earned it.”
“Alright fine, I guess I’ll take it.” Dash shook Spitfire’s hoof. Honestly, she hadn’t thought fulfilling her childhood dream would be against her better judgement, but she didn’t really mind.
“Glad to have you onboard,” Spitfire said. She turned to Macintosh. “So, Mac, how much longer until she beats me?”
“An hour,” Mac said.
“What!?” Spitfire and Rainbow Dash said in unison.
“The only reason she lost was ‘cause she hesitated at the drop.” Macintosh squinted at the sun. “Would love to talk about it more, but I got chores to do,” Macintosh said. He ambled down toward the orchard, but Spitfire quickly trotted up to him.
Dash watched her go with a grin on her face. Maybe she really did earn her spot.
“Hey Mac, now that you’re training pegasi again, how about you get back to being my coach?” Spitfire said.
Rainbow Dash bristled and galloped to catch up to the two of them. “Hey, back off, he’s my coach for life. Get your own coach.”
“Well then how about I hire him to be the Wonderbolt’s coach?”
“Oh I’d love that. You’ll actually have to work to keep your captain spot.”
“Shut up, Dash, I’m already regretting making you a part of the team.”
“Ha! Too late to take it back.”
“I swear, you two are gonna be the death of me.”
Author's Note
Special thanks to Comma-Kazie for supporting this chapter's creation via Patreon.
