A Cloudborn's Restless Spirit

Even Twilight Sparkle, for all her procedures and checklists, was capable of an egregious mistake once in a while. In fairness to her, she did keep close track of exactly what was wrong with every single unsuccessful version of the magic bit, she did record and catalogue each rejection, and as the iterations progressed, she did destroy each failure for safety reasons. So meticulously did she keep her records that she even left herself a note reminding her about the one time she broke from the procedure. Imagine, then, her frustration when this one anomaly out of dozens turned out to have dire consequences.

The note she'd left for herself had been painstakingly clear: Model 2.3.3 failure: Functioning and safe, but unacceptable B, C, and Y values. NOTE: Reserved for further study. She'd attached the note to the item and tucked it into her saddlebag, thinking to take it with her while collecting components for the next round of iterations. Eager to suspend her work and take a few hours of rest, she left a copy of the note on her workbench and then went to sleep.

She woke up the next morning at her usual 7 o'clock sharp to see Trixie wearing her saddlebags, unpacking a load of groceries and spell components. Frantically searching the bottom of the bags revealed nothing. Interrogating Trixie succeeded only in getting Twilight upset and putting Trixie into a state of quivering faux terror, begging to be punished by her Mistress. This, in turn, got Twilight more upset, and made her determined all-day tour of every walkway in town even more stressful.

Mane disheveled from the day's frantic running around, nerves frayed to their limit, and too distraught to safely make any more attempts at bit debugging for the night, Twilight scrawled an addendum to her little note in large, angry letters: LOST AND UNACCOUNTED FOR.

The Model 2.3 would remain "lost and unaccounted for" for many more weeks. Even Twilight Sparkle eventually forgot about the Model 2.3 thanks to the storm raised by the successful Mark Two and Mark Three. As such, it was as much Twilight's fault as anypony else's that when Cloudchaser chose the border of the Everfree for her Sunday morning warmup one fateful morning, a glint of metal caught her eye. Chaser had no way of knowing exactly what she was looking at, until she bent down to pick it up. The wind-tossed libertine's reaction to what she saw as a result could most accurately be described as barely controlled hilarity followed by completely uncontrolled excitement.

“Dear Mother of Earth, what the rutting fuck is THAT?”

Flitter didn't often swear, Chaser thought to herself.

“Seriously! I don't—what the holy flying—how did that happen? Did anypony see you on your way over?”

“Only evr'pone! Shweet flamin' shpit, think 'f the pers-bil'ties! 'Ave you ev'r 'ad one o' these 'tween yer legsh t' play wit' b'fore? bet yeh 'aven't!”

“That's because it's unnatural! Spit that out, you aren't even talking properly with it in your mouth! Dear Mother, that's horrifying!”

“'Nn-nat'ral mah arse! Thing'sh f'ckin' mm-azin'! Izz to'ally got feelin' too! She reared, staring down at her new toy--well, the results of her new toy--with a huge grin around the item clamped in her mouth. For being a mare, she was fairly respectable down under. Not exactly a slutbuster, but perfectly useable and holy crap totally functional and somehow made of her own flesh and ready to go.

“I'm serious! Spit it out! Stop it stop it stop it!”

Chaser dropped back to all fours, released the bit the into her right hoof, and balanced it there, holding it towards Flitter. Her face visibly twitched at the sensation of the bit's effects reverting back to her body's proper shape, but that didn't even slow her down. “You wanna try?”

“No! Holy seasons no!” Flitter reeled, the horror on her face only getting worse.

Chaser hurriedly set the magic toy down at her feet. “What's with all the Earther language? It's just a toy, except amazing! Wait 'till I get to try it out on somepony!”

“That is not sexy! That is terrifying!”

“Says you! Wait until I show Skywishes!” Chaser quickly pulled her pre-packed saddlebags off the hallway shelf and slid them over her back.

“Where did you get that? What if it's cursed? I'm not the only one who's going to think it's freaky! Take it to Twilight Sparkle or something!”

“Twilight Sparkle's a unicorn! You know, a groundbound? The other day you were worried about me going after Blossom!”

Flitter somehow managed to look yet more shocked. “That is not what I meant!”

Chaser wasn't listening. “I could even try giving it to a stallion!” Her wings fluttered open and shut several times as increasingly creative ideas for playing with her new toy spun through her head. “All right, I'll get out of your mane. Let me know how your work goes today; I'm off to see exactly how this thing works!” She gingerly picked the bit up by its end--she giggled as even that amount of contact made its affected zone tingle--and tossed it into the outside pouch of one of her saddlebags.

Once Chaser was outside, Flitter simply shut the door and went back about her business. Her sister was probably worried about her, Chaser reflected. Flitter was just sweet that way.

Flitter finished up her morning ritual with a sulky grimace. Oh, Chaser didn't mean any harm to anypony, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to cause any. Her stories of flight school rule-breaking and such were one thing, but almost everyone who knew, especially Flitter, started to get a little concerned when they heard about Chaser doing in-flights. At least she hadn't done anything like the episode with the spreader bars lately... or at least not that Flitter had heard of.

And now this. Flitter let out a small sigh as she double-knotted her bow, tightened the straps on her vest, and pulled her goggles over her eyes. Did Chaser really think that she could fuck her way through half her weather team with a magic dong and not expect any consequences?

Whatever; it wouldn't do to worry like this while out at work, what with the big day the survey corps had planned for her. Chaser was a big pony and the fact that she had somehow managed to survive this long probably meant she’d be okay for a few more hours.

Meanwhile, just the thought of today's plans brought a smile to Flitter's face. They'd given her a special task and bonus pay for today's assignment. Getting paid for what you loved to do wasn't too rare of a situation in Ponyville, but extra-perfect days like this one were still a treat.

A few of the team were already assembled on the roof of Ponyville's Wing Corps office when Chaser arrived, and the rest showed up within a few minutes, punctual as always. Squadron Leader Moondancer arrived last of all, plummeting from the clouds and landing with a thump in front of the assembled troops at seven o'clock on the dot: the exact check-in time.

Despite her dramatic entrance, Moondancer's mane was as tightly knotted as always. Her spotless aquamarine fur and hard midnight eyes made the squad stand at attention just as rapidly as her strict, formal tone.

“Squad!”

“Aye!” The squad straightened with a coordinated thumping of hooves.

“We're out on a special patrol today. Monday's successful tornado was unusual in its long duration, so Cloudsdale command has deployed us for a thorough sweep of its effects on nearby Lake Clearsight.” Even when she raised her voice to give orders, the Squadron Leader had a smooth tenor-baritone, low enough that some ponies who heard her voice without seeing her face would stop and look for the stallion who'd spoken. “Each of you will be fitted with a Type Four and assigned an individual sector to sweep thoroughly. Understood?”

“Aye!” the squad answered. Unfortunately, Flitter hated Type Fours. She remembered asking why she had to drag around such a bulky, awkward machine when just a camera would do, and she remembered how her eyes had glazed over at the technical explanation.

“Flitter and I will take Type Nines and sweep the lake proper.”

Flitter did all she could to keep from visibly brightening at this news. Type Nines were, comparatively, a joy to fly with. Moondancer herself equally so. Moondancer had been transferred to this chapter only last year and was only leader by default, being that she was officially a Wing Corps officer and nopony else on the squad was. Still, she had commanded respect from her first day in Ponyville.

“Questions?”

“Ma'am.” The voice came from somewhere at the far end of the line.

“Wisp?”

“Um—” Wisp's professional manner faltered. To be fair, almost none of the Wing Corps' commanders demanded quite the kind of rigor Moondancer did. “What exactly... what kind of effects should we be expecting to see? I mean, pegasus waterspouts are highly contained events.”

“Were you there on the day of the waterspout, Wisp?” Moondancer's deep voice was perfectly suited for intimidation. Pegasi were known for poor volume control, acoustics being what they were, but Moondancer was an artist at being loud.

“Of course I—I mean, I flew in the tornado, ma'am!”

“Then you remember how the tornado only reached a full eight hundred when Captain Dash put the team through a second attempt, against regulations. Am I correct?” A few in the squad liked to say it, because it never stopped being true—they would all hate to meet the one who trained Moondancer.

“Aye, ma'am!” Wisp's military manner came back as a defense mechanism.

“And have you been made aware of the effects of a failed pegasus waterspout on the surrounding ecosystem?”

“Uh, no, ma'am!”

“Then you will find out today, and you will not do a half job on your sector just because you don’t know what you’re looking for! Do I make myself clear?”

“Aye, ma’am!” Wisp’s face and posture remained stiff.

Moondancer broke off from Wisp to address her unit. “When we break, the squad will head directly to the quartermaster, inside. Everypony needs to be saddled up for an eight o'clock flight time if we're going to end early like I projected. You will polish your lenses, you will fasten your goggles, and you will report to the roof at seven forty-five. Understood?”

“Aye!” barked Flitter along with the rest.

“Break!” The assembled team filed down the roof access stairs and into the offices.

Forty-five minutes later, they assembled in formation on the roof and leapt skyward as one, rising as a single body with one enormous wingbeat. As the rest fanned themselves out over the surrounding wood, Flitter and Moondancer kept a straight course for the lake. The other surveyors tugged their Type Fours—miniature carts bristling with lenses and barometric probes—while Flitter and her leader were strapped into harnesses with a wide-angle fisheye lens on each flank, and one on the chest.

“I'll take the south end!” Moondancer boomed, falling back a bit to match Flitter's speed. “When we meet in the middle, just come with me back to the offices! We'll probably be the last to finish, so keep up a steady pace!”

“Aye!” Flitter shouted back. With that, Moondancer banked left, leaving Flitter to set about her task. Flitter flapped hard to build speed as she approached the surface of the lake. Once she was cruising over the treetops fast enough to feel the wind press her goggles into her face, she took a deep breath and snapped her wings shut.

With four limbs extended, Flitter briefly shot forward like a torpedo before keeling forward and dropping into a swan dive. Moments before she would've plunged into the water, she spread her wings and pulled herself forcefully into a horizontal glide. Then she allowed herself to exhale. She'd never been professional flier material, but this...?

She flapped once, keeping herself at a steady altitude. The cameras on her chest and flanks clicked rhythmically. From this close to the water, she could see the lake's surface shimmer faintly from the effects of her wake. The air was cool and the water smelled like fresh rain. Flitter had never been professional flyer material, but she had been born to do this.

The air over the lake held no surprises; it rarely did. As such, the flight was smooth, calm, and perfect. At one point, Flitter even closed her eyes and simply floated in perfect harmony with the lake around her, a spirit borne on the morning breeze.

When Flitter landed, she headed straight for the quartermaster’s to drop off her Type Nine, then trotted down the steps to the break room. Sure enough, most of her squad was there helping themselves to snacks and juice from the baskets of refreshments placed on folding tables. Flitter noted that, disappointingly, Moondancer wasn’t in the room. She also noticed that she was exhausted. The rush of low skimming had worn off, and her wings and core were about to dissolve into runny marmalade.

She flopped into a chair between Suntail and Bluemoon, breathing deeply. Her training told her that allowing herself to relax was only going to give her muscles a chance to shut down and go into recovery mode. Her training could leave her alone for now, thank you very much.

“Tough run, Flitty?” Suntail said, looking up from her plate of cookies.

“Yeah,” Flitter monotoned. “Was nice though. The lake’s always a nice view.”

“Jus’ the lake or something else, too?” Wisp snorted. “I saw that grin when she said you were gonna have some personal time with her.”

“The lake had a nice view.” Flitter shook her head slowly from side to side. “Are we really going through this again?”

Bluemoon let out a “hm” with a thoughtful look on his face. “They only jus' sent her down a year ago. Less, actually. But tha's long enough to 've seen some o' the crazy crap that’s happened in this town. I like her too.”

“Like I just said, can we please not go through this again?” Flitter complained. “Moondancer’s a really good leader, and--”

“Nothin’ wrong with Flitty's little crush.” Suntail leaned forward lazily on the table, sliding the cup of juice between her lips along with her. “We’re not actually in the Guard, you know. Not the same rules. Even if Prime Spearhead General Moondancer wants to pretend otherwise.”

“Just Commander Moondancer, actually,” said a chesty voice from the doorway, “And may I remind you that my squad is a three-time Efficiency Award winner thanks to my rules?”

Twelve heads turned towards the entrance to the room. Even a few who weren’t in Chaser’s squad took notice. She was smiling, which still wasn’t very comforting. Most of those who’d looked up turned towards the ground, or towards the snacks they’d picked out. Flitter was one of them. How much had Moondancer heard?

“Besides, all the whippings seem to have paid off today. I just spoke to Airwave down in communications and he said everypony’s footage was looking good. And we’re going to have a repeat performance with tomorrow’s weather swoop, right?”

“Aye,” the table murmured in agreement.

The conversation devolved into weather and gossip and lunch, and even Moondancer had a few comments about overcasting techniques and correct breeze procedure and such. One by one, the break room started to empty out. Flitter had to admit that she respected her leader’s ability to flow between her usual rigor and a more break-room manner without losing any of her presence.

As Flitter stood to leave, though, Moondancer stopped her. “Hold up, Flitter. Do you have a few minutes?”

Flitter felt a shock of apprehension in her gut, but she answered with as casual of a flow as she could manage. “Sure,” she said, perfectly normally. “What do you need?”

“Just wanted to talk about today’s survey. And a few other things. If you don’t mind, of course.” Deference didn’t suit Moondancer, Flitter thought.

“All right.” Flitter stopped in the doorway and turned around.

“We should go for a walk for this. Come on, then.” Flitter thought she heard a wolf whistle. When she turned her head, though, nopony was showing any sign of being interested in Flitter's business.

Moondancer led the way out the door, and Flitter fell into step behind her, mind racing with terrible possibilities. Her leader had heard the whole conversation, and now she was going to get some kind of gentle reminder that she was being inappropriate. Flitter took a deep breath, trying to let it cleanse some of her irritation. Fucking Wisp.

Flitter was led around the building and off to a quiet side-street. Despite her displeasure at the whole situation, she had to admit it was pleasant. The walkway was lined with trees, their leaves rustling in a steady breeze. Moondancer's cutie mark was an oddly abstract one: A sideways golden V, like a chevron turned on its side.

“How are you feeling after today’s flight?”

“Actually, I feel fantastic,” Flitter said. It wasn’t really a lie. Yes, her sides and back protested with every single step she took, and she had a feeling her wings wouldn’t feel too much better should she decide to float instead, but the bliss and freedom of low gliding over the water usually stayed with her for a long time. “I mean... I always enjoy work, but today just felt really good.” She pulled up and walked alongside her Leader past the neighborhood’s flower gardens and patios.

Without breaking pace, Moondancer shot Flitter a sidelong glance, the kind that was actually straight-on eye contact with her left eye. “That’s surprising; I’m exhausted. You’re tougher than you look, Flitty.”

Flitter couldn’t tell, but she had a feeling that a blush was turning her from lavender to ruby.

“No offense, of course.”

“Um, none taken, ma’am.” Wisp must’ve felt something like this, thought Flitter, but under a different kind of pressure.

“Titles are for telegrams and summary reports, not strolling through my neighborhood after work. Tight-assedness isn't like you, Flitty.” Moondancer had never called her that before. Neither of those things, actually.

“I... don't think of myself as tight-assed.” She had to bite back the ma'am, and she was sure that Moondancer could tell.

Moondancer chuckled at a personal joke that she didn't share. “Well, try not to be, anyway. Being your squad leader doesn't mean I can't be your friend, too.”

They walked a few more paces in silence. The sky was starting to turn golden—it was getting late, and Flitter wanted to get home on time, but maybe just once she could let Chaser take care of things. Flitter finally spoke up: “Why did you ask me to join you?”

“What do you mean?” Moondancer furrowed her brow, but only for a moment before she let out a most un-Moondancerly giggle, a strange but not entirely unattractive sound in her stallionish pitch. “Oh, you thought I needed to talk to you about something! No, I just wanted to invite you out for a walk.”

“Oh.” Flitter didn't know what else to say. Just 'oh.'

Another pause, shorter this time, and then: “How's your sister?”

"Oh yes!” Flitter spoke up too quickly, relieved by the avenue of conversation. “It's wonderful to have her in town.”

“She flew very well in the tornado,” Moondancer replied with a nod. “You close to her?”

“Always have been. She's adopted, you know.”

“You must be buckin' with me. You two could be twins.”

It was Flitter's turn to giggle. “We get that a lot. Our parents chose her specifically because of her color, so that we wouldn't be reminded all the time that we aren't really blood. Too bad rhey didn't know that our personalities were going to be such opposites.”

Moondancer seemed to think about that for a moment. “Well, that's enough about her. You've lived in Ponyville for a long time, if I'm remembering right. Six years?”

“Seven. Long enough to officially be a groundbound.”

“Mm. But you've still got the heart of a cloud-native, I bet.”

“I guess so.” Flitter hated that question; she never had a good answer to it. Was she still a cloud-native even though she hadn't really acted like one for the better part of a decade?

“Hmm.” Again Moondancer seemingly needed a moment to mull this over. “There's a reason I asked that. Wisp wasn't just being a jackass—she had a point, right? Sorry, I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me.” She didn't sound sorry.

This time Flitter felt an actual burn in her cheeks and ears from the blood rushing to those places. “I... well, she was messing with me, but...” She couldn't continue. Should she be happy for this exchange? Of course she should. So why did she feel like she was being held up for something that she'd done wrong?

“Hey.” Moondancer nudged Flitter with her head. “Stop being like that. I don't want to think I'm quite that scary.”

You are, thought Flitter. “You're not,” she said.

“That's good.”

The pauses Moondancer was adding to this conversation were not helping.

Flitter tried to say something to break the pause in the conversation. Her mouth was already open when Moondancer spoke over her. “I don't tell this to everyone,” she intoned, looking straight ahead again, “but sometimes it's hard, moving around like I do. You wouldn't know that, though, being in the local chapter.”

“I guess I never thought of that,” Flitter admitted.

“I try to make the most of it.” If this was a sad story for Moondancer, she was hiding it well. “New places means new ponies to meet. I still keep in touch with a few friends from Hooveston, Mountecristo, Canterlot. I try to get close to new friends even if it hurts. Otherwise, I might never end up getting close to anypony.”

Is that what you're doing now? Flitter wanted to ask. Getting close to somepony? “I left behind a lot of friends in Cirrus Crossing,” she said, though as soon as she said it she felt a little guilty about pretending that her separation was the same as Moondancer's.

“Cirrus Crossing is beautiful,” Moondancer said, sounding genuinely happy to remember. “I’m gonna go back there someday... I’d love to see Kiter again. I celebrated my birthday in Canterlot just last year, so maybe I’ll go to Cirrus Crossing for Hearthwarming.”

Like a leaf in a gale, Flitter thought. She’d known plenty of pegs like that--in her class or her squad one day and gone the next. That was one of the main reasons she’d been so keen on joining the local Ponyville chapter; tiny Cirrus Crossing didn’t have one, and besides, she had already grown fond of Ponyville after a few years down here.

“Well, this is where we part ways,” Moondancer said. Flitter blinked. They were standing in front of an empty lot.

“Where exactly do you live?” Flitter asked, confused.

Moondancer chuckled “Didn’t your mom ever teach you to look up once in a while?”

Flitter looked up, and what she’d assumed to be a bit of overcast obscuring the sun turned out to be a low-hanging cloud house, spacious enough but simpler than the ornate designs she’d seen so many of in Cloudsdale. “Guess I’ll head home,” Flitter said.

Flitter turned tail, but before she could start walking, Moondancer spoke. “You could come inside for a little while, if you like. It’s late enough for a drink.”

Those words stopped Flitter as surely as if Moondancer had grabbed her by the mane and dragged her around to face her. “I... I would really like that,” she said, totally unable to keep her voice level.

“Come on up, then,” Moondancer replied, floating her way up to the front door. “I think we both deserve a little downtime.”

“Downtime. Yeah.”