Chapters "Remember, your essays are due tomorrow."
That's a really nice goodbye, Mr. MacLean. Really nice. Oh well, at least it's my cue to leave.
I retrieve my bag from under my chair and make my way towards the exit door of my science class...
"Inel?" I froze. My last name was only ever mentioned when I was in trouble. And I mean deep, deep shit.
I slowly turn towards my teacher, trying my best to keep a calm, stoic expression on my face, although couldn't help but have a bead of sweat run down my forehead.
"Yes, Mr. MacLean?" My voice was noticeably shaky, and at that moment I was glad there was nobody else in the room.
"Robin, I would like to congratulate you on your score on the test this afternoon."
What?
"I believe you scored 99 out of 100 and that has been the highest any of my students have achieved."
WHAT?!
"I... Uhh..." I stammered. Guess I wasn't getting scolded. I fact, I was getting PRAISED. Something very rare from Mr. MacLean.
"Just try to work on grammar errors. I spotted a few myself, but they can be forgiven... For now."
Well, there's the criticism. I just manage to blurt out a small "Thank you!" shake his hand, and take off down the hall grinning like a madman.
But what made the day better? I had enough money to cash in for a flight lesson. Double win.
Flying was one of my passions in life. If I was feeling down, I'd go for a flight lesson. If I was joyous, (like right now) I'd go for a flight lesson.
I push my way through the gargantuan crowd of students to the main exit doors, and am greeted by something to be called somewhat rare in Zurich. Sunlight.
I smile to myself as I make my way across a large sports field. Perfect weather for flying.
I was lucky that my school was close to Zurich Airport. Made the job of walking there a whole lot easier.
I turn down one of the many small roadways that lead to several hangars before stopping at one. A large forest green sign above the hangar doors says:NEON AIR FLIGHT TRAINING AND TOURS
I step through a small side entrance and enter a cozy reception area. Seated behind a mahogany desk was an elderly woman with short silver hair tied in a bun.
"Ah, Robin! Good to see you. Here to get another lesson, hmm?"
"Yes thank you, miss Miyagi."
"Thought as much. Peter's up in the hangar fixing up that old bike of his. Want a mint? Miss Miyagi offered.
"Thanks, but no thanks," I reply. "But I might have one when I get back down."
"There may not be any left by then," she chuckled. "Anyways, see you soon."
"Thanks, miss Miyagi." Nice lady, she is.
I continue through the hallway to my left and I am met with an expansive hangar filled dozens of aircraft.
I admire the sight until I hear the clatter of metal and a distinctive "Ah, fuck!" coming from behind a cessna 172.
"Hey, Peter! Give the bike a rest, he didn't mean it!" I joke as I continue to find Peter McGee covered in engine grease and oil nursing his now bleeding thumb.
"C'mon, Robin. Gimme a break here! I just got assaulted by a BIKE." I roll my eyes as he gets up.
"I believe someone owes me a flight lesson? I'm not paying to watch a cage fight against you and a piece of machinery." I gesture towards the dirt bike.
Peter's eyes widen. "Oh! Okay, let me just clean myself up." I watch as Peter grabs a small rag, wipes his face with it, then puts it down.
"...That's all? Not even a shower?" I ask, incredulous.
"Eeyup. You've know me for a while. Thought you would've picked up on that." He winked at me as I rolled my eyes and sighed.
"So, mister hygienic," I say sarcastically. "What plane will it be today?"
Peter looks over the multitude of planes in the hangar. "I say the cessna 182. And If you have any sort of sanity, you won't argue."
And I don't. The cessna 182 in our hangar was recently installed with turbo, which made the aircraft a pleasure to fly. Although the cessna lacked fuel efficiency and maneuverability, the speed of the turbo made up for it in acceleration.
"Alright. Let's get started." I say as we weave our way through wings and propellers.
As we reach the cessna, we begin the pre-flight checks. Including checking the hull, ailerons, elevators and rudder for damage, checking fuel levels and run RPM tests.
All clear.
I disable the wheel brakes and Peter opens the hangar door. I begin pushing the plane to the empty road in front of the building as Peter shuts the door behind me.
I pull myself into the left side of the cockpit while Peter pulls himself into the right. He nods to me, and I flick the master switch.
The engine roars to life, and the propeller starts to rotate at a tremendous speed.
The radio suddenly activates and I hear the muttering of air traffic control. Peter radios in and requests takeoff.
Request accepted.
I slowly push the throttle and the rotation speed of the propellers increase. The cessna rolls to the end of the runway, then slowly turns around.
Peter nods to me, and a start pushing the throttle. The cessna lurches forward as the propellers rotate considerably faster, and it begins to gather speed.
I look out my window at the rapidly passing ground below us and start to pull up on the yoke. The bumping lessens and then...
Nothing except the engine humming and a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Never to old to be scared, eh Baron?" Mocked Peter.
"Oh, shut the fuck up." I retorted through the microphone.
'Baron' was my nickname when I first arrived at junior flight school. Every kid there was asked what there inspiration to fly was. A few kids said there parents or relatives or people like Emelia Earheart or The Wright Brothers.
Me? I chose Manfred von Richthofen. More commonly known as 'The Red Baron'.
Soon enough, Peter spoke again.
"Okay, I'm going to take you through some basic maneuvers first, to get you up to speed." I was fine with that.
"We're going to fly out over Lagern first." Satiated Peter. "On the way there preform some simple banks, and test the rudder. Kapiche?"
"Kapiche."
"Alright, now- wait, what the hell?" Peter looked up through the window in confusion.
"What is it?" I ask.
"It's... It's a fucking table ! BRACE!"
Darkness.
Cold.
Pain.
Slowly opening my eyes, I find myself in a position I never thought I'd see in my 3 years of flying.
Prices of broken metal are strewn across the ground in front of me, and a large gash in the pines to my rear confirms my suspicions.
We crashed.
I try to stand, but an explosive bolt of pain erupts from the left side of my back. I let out an ear piercing scream, and I instinctively go to clutch my the area of suffering.
*CLOP*
The metaphorical white-hot poker stabs at my back again, and I hastily pull away from my injury and manage to stifle the scream.
I turn my head to give an accusing look at my hand and...
A find a white stub.
I jerk my 'hand' away in panic causing another stab of pain to penetrate my sanity, and me to stare wide-eyes into space.
"No... No, no, no, no..." I mutter to myself. I then take a deep breath try to comfort myself.
"Okay, your name is Robin Inel, you are 16, you attend Zurich Boys' College and you have been flying for 3 years along with your friend..." My eyes suddenly widen in realisation.
"...Peter."
I inch my head to face left and find myself face-to-face with the fish eyes stare if a beige coloured, black maned horse.
I jump in fear, renewing the sharp pain in my back once more. When I calm down, I realise it isn't moving. Slowly leaning towards it, I stretch out my hoof and poke it. It doesn't react.
A study the creature more, and take in a few smaller details. It had hazel eyes, it's build seemed slightly muscular, although leaned more towards the chubby side and appeared to be covered in engine grease.
Then I noticed it was strapped into the seat next to me.
It stare it the beige horse in disbelief.
"...P-Peter?" I manage to sputter.
He gives no reply.
I stare in shock at my own hooves, and a tear forms in my eye.
"Peter's d-dead... And I'm..." I start to utter. Then my fear turns itself into rage.
"I'm a BUCKING HORSE! "
I look over at Peter again, ignoring my sudden change of curse word.
"I'm s-sorry..."
I take my hoof and run it down both of his eyes, closing them. The look on his face then almost changed to one of... Contempt?
I sigh, and begin to unbuckle myself from the seat, lifting the small switch on the strap. I begin to climb out, when I realise something.
"How the buck did I lift the switch with..." I lift my right hoof in front of my face.
"...These?"
I sit in contemplation before looking back over at the body of what used to be Peter next to me.
"...I'm taking this pretty well for a guy who just lost his best friend and became a horse."
I start to crawl out of the cockpit, when the metaphorical poker pokes me again, and a help but let out a small yelp.
Well, at least it doesn't hurt as much now. You woulda thought I had learnt the lesson regarding my back now, and NOT tried to move it.
Plus, what is this form? How do I pick stuff up? How do I wield tools? And more importantly, how do I walk?
I decide to take things one at a time, and a dress the point of most pain first.
I find that I'm able to tilt me head all the way around to see my back, and honestly, what I say right then and there have me the shock of my life.
Wings.
I had wings, mother-bucker!
Then I realise where to pain is coming from.
Looking my left wing, it appears to be bent halfway through at an unnatural angle, and is hanging limp at my side.
Broken wing?
I gingerly press my hoof against the bent segment and it twitches as a searing heat roars up my back. I barely suppress a scream.
Yup, broken wing.
"...Maybe as long as I keep pressure off it..." I lean forward and bring my bent wing away from the back of the padded chair. It stings for a moment, then settles as the pain fades.
I sigh and begin to climb out once again, this time mindful of the wing that is jangling centimeters above the grassy terrain.
Looking over the damage to the cessna, I can tell that it's beyond repair. The fuel tank is leaking, the engine is crushed and the entire back half of the plane is sitting amongst the debris in the tree-gash.
"That's... Not good. Aww, Miyagi's gonna be pissed . And another thing: I need to find civilisation.
Lagers National Park isn't that large, and surrounded on all sides by roads. It shouldn't take long, all I'd have to do was walk in one direction.
Another problem. Walking.
Even standing still, it was hard to keep balanced as more four legs shook beneath me. I took the time to appreciate how I look.
Turning to look at myself in a shard of plexiglass, I find that I am white, with a small turquoise coloured mane and bright emerald eyes, matching my own human ones.
And again, another problem. How are people going to react when they see a winged horse strolling down the road? I guess the most cliche thing would happen. I get taken to a laboratory, tested on, cut open and imprisoned.
Also, there was the case of Peter. The story of a TABLE falling out of the sky being taken as truth would have as much chance as a pig growing wings.
They would probably blame me, charge me of manslaughter, or even murder and lock me up, never to leave.
No, don't think about that, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I need to find civilisation... And learn to walk.
==================================
Dear Princess Celestia, The spell which I found within the ruins has me absolutely baffled. We have confirmed that the spell does work through the transportation of a cup and a table, although, we ran into one problem. Neither the cup, nor the table reappeared as stated, although this has been tracked to a minor miscalculation of my own.
On another subject, ponies around the area claim recently hearing loud loud buzzing noise, almost like a mosquito, followed by the sound of crashing and crunching. These sounds we're especially present around Fluttershy's cottage, and she is currently trying to calm her critters. Other than that, all is well in Ponyville.
Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.
Author's Note
Oh, hey!
Robin: I swear, every single one of your chapter titles spoils what's in it...
"Twi, ah know yah like tah learn as many spells as yah can, but dontcha think this may be a little far fetched?"
Twilight Sparkle looked up from the leather bound tome she was anxiously studying and threw a reassuring glance at Applejack before continuing her scouring of the book.
"Don't worry AJ," she said. "If anything goes wrong, I placed a temporary reversing rune on the library!"
"Alright, just don' want anypony gettin' hurt."
"Nopony's going to get hurt, I assure you. It's just a simple teleportation spell, right? Twilight cast a small grin at Applejack who looked at her with an unamused frown.
"Not if yer teleportin' somethin' to another dimension," Commented AJ. "Besides, what if the cup lands in the wrong place? It could hurt somepony, or worse!" Applejack's pupils grew smaller and smaller with every word.
"AJ!" Shouted the unicorn, snapping her friend from her thoughts. "Don't start thinking like that! Nopony's going to get hurt! Okay?"
The orange coloured earth pony simply nodded, her breathing returning to normal as she regained her self control.
"Sorry, sugarcube. Just got caught up..." She visibly shivered as horrendous thoughts paraded her mind.
"It's okay Applejack," Twilight sighed. "I wouldn't be trying this if I thought the risks were too high. But for now, we need to try the spell."
The purple coated mare set the book on the ground and slowly trotted across to a small table situated in the middle of the library, which had a small plastic cup resting on top of it.
"AJ, you may want to stand back..." warned Twilight as her horn began to glow.
As the same purple glow began to envelop the cup, it started twitching. Then shuddering. The purple essence around the cup started to expand and contract, almost as if beating to a pulse.
Then suddenly a BOOM was heard, and a light brighter than Celestia's sun engulfed the cup and the table. The two friends were forced too close their eyes to avoid being blinded, although when they reopened them, the cup and the table were gone.
"Okay, in a few moments the cup and the table should return!" Exclaimed Twilight excitedly.
"...Any second now..." Twilight muttered, her smile slowly turning into a confused frown.
AJ looked into the unicorns eyes. "Sugarcube, somethin' go wrong?"
"N-no! Of course not, eheh..." Applejack immediately recognised the tell-tale signs of a lie, but let it slip.
She already had enough stress to deal with...
