life is like a box of chocolates
“You will never be a Wonderbolt.”
Lightning Dust remembered those words. They had stuck with her for her entire life. Even at night she’d wake up in cold sweat, from a dream of Spitfire yelling at her, veins popping from her neck. She’d remember her dismissal and the shame and agony that followed her for years to come.
Today she tried to forget. She had to forget.
“Who do these ponies think they are? What kind of madmare sells a box of chocolates for fifty bits?” grumbled Fiddlesticks from her right. The earth pony mare shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
“It’s a commemorative box,” grunted Lightning Dust. “It’s supposed to be a collectible.”
Fiddlesticks scoffed. “Collectible’s just a fancy word for expensive.” She ran a hoof through her cobalt blue mane, which had been tied into a ponytail for the occasion. “How do Ah look?”
“Better than ever,” affirmed Lightning Dust. Outside their private booth, the crowds of Canterlot screamed and stomped, chants filling the stadium. “Wonderbolts! Wonderbolts! Wonderbolts!”
Lightning used to dream that the crowds would be chanting her name. She could picture herself standing on the edge of the launch zone, at the front of the pack in the coveted deep blue flight suit. Ready to take on the world.
It wasn’t meant to be. Lightning Dust would never be a Wonderbolt.
“You want some?”
Lightning blinked to see that Fiddlesticks was offering her a piece of chocolate. “You know those are worth more unopened?”
“What’s the point of buying chocolate if you ain’t gonna eat it?” Fiddlesticks asked.
Lightning smiled. “Fair point.”
She accepted the chocolate and ate it, turning her attention back towards the window. When she left the Academy that day, she swore that she would never go back. If anything, she would make Spitfire beg her to rejoin. Never the other way around.
When that didn’t happen, she started her own flight team. And it worked well… until the rocket incident had them fined and banned from all flight competitions in Equestria.
Lightning Dust would never be a Wonderbolt.
Eventually, she had to accept that. So she turned her back on that dream. She settled down and got married, something her old self never would have dreamed of. She became a weather manager and coordinator in a town where ponies had never heard of the word 'Wonderbolt' in their lives.
For a long time, she shoved that cursed word out of her mind. Fiddle never spoke it, and Lightning never mentioned it. So she never thought that she'd be celebrating this moment. It was funny though, because despite everything that happened, she was still here, at a Wonderbolts Show. Just on the wrong side of the glass.
The stadium’s loudspeakers kicked into action. “Mares and stallions, colts and fillies! Welcome to Canterlot Stadium!”
Outside, the stadium erupted with cheers and shouts. It made Lightning smile, even if they’d never cheer for her. She would never have her name read aloud on the speakers. And she would never be a Wonderbolt. But it was fine… wasn’t it?
“Please welcome Captain of the Wonderbolts, Rainbow Dash!”
Whatever the announcer said next was drowned out by a sea of screams and cheers. From the launch tunnel, a rainbow streak took to the sky, a blue pegasus cutting through the air. Rainbow deserved it. Much more than Lightning did.
They hadn’t spoken since the incident, and Lightning didn’t see that changing any time soon.
“Show-off,” grunted Fiddlesticks as she shoved another piece of chocolate into her mouth. “Any ol’ pegasus can do that.”
Lightning shook her head, laughing as the announcer droned on with facts and figures about Rainbow. “Fiddle, Rainbow’s the best flyer in the world.”
“Ah still think you’re better.”
Lightning cringed at that, but wrapped her left wing around Fiddle’s shoulder. “Nah. Never in a million years,” she said softly. “Rainbow’s a hero. I’m not.”
“You saved our home,” Fiddle said. “That’s more than Rainbow Dash’s ever done for me.”
They shared a laugh at that.
The announcer went on, introducing the other members of the team, but Lightning tuned him out. Her eyes fell to the box of chocolates that Fiddle had purchased. It was a simple blue box, with the Wonderbolts logo stamped in the middle of it.
That stupid logo had meant so much to her in the past. The day she left the Academy was the worst day of her life, knowing that her dreams were dead forever. But she got over it in the end, didn’t she? She was happy now.
Sure, being the chief weather manager for a backwater frontier town wasn’t the future she had in mind, but it was something, wasn’t it? She had a family now. She had friends. She was happy.
But… she would never be a Wonderbolt.
“Dusty?” asked Fiddle softly. “You alright?”
“Hm,” answered Lightning. “Fine. All this is just making me feel weird, y’know? And I know today’s not about me. But…”
Fiddle sighed, rubbing Lightning’s back. “Ah know, honey. Ah know.”
Lightning watched as the other Wonderbolts took to the air, each one basking in the cheers of the crowd as they made their entrance. “Just wanted to be a hero. That’s all I ever wanted. To be a Wonderbolt.”
Fiddle said nothing. She didn’t have to.
“But those days are long gone now,” Lightning said. “Doesn’t even matter if Rainbow forgives me or not.”
Lightning felt a strange tingling sensation on her right side, where her wing used to be. She wished she hadn’t been so arrogant at the Academy. She wished she hadn’t been so blinded by competition with the Washouts. And she wished she hadn’t been so cocky when she led her weather team into that tornado.
She picked up the box of chocolates in her hoof. “I heard that signed boxes go for millions at the market,” she said absently. “Wonder if we could get an autograph.”
Fiddle laughed. Her laugh put a smile on Lightning’s face, just like it always did. Today wasn’t a sad day. Maybe it was for Lightning, but she wasn’t the one that mattered. Fiddle nudged Lightning’s shoulder. “Here she comes! Get ready!”
“And for the first time, joining the active Wonderbolts Roster today, the newest member of the team…”
Lightning’s heart stopped. Nothing mattered to her then. Not the crowd outside, not the aching pain in her heart or the empty space on her back.
“Please welcome... Star Dust!”
Fiddle and Lightning shot out of their seats, cheering and yelling louder than the crowd outside. A violet and blue blur shot into the air, not as fast as Rainbow, but with precision. The mare in the flight suit flew in circles above the crowd, giving a salute to nopony in particular.
The crowd welcomed her with as much enthusiasm as they had the rest of the team. Star Dust beamed with a grin wider than anything Lightning had ever seen. She couldn’t see underneath her flight goggles, but Lightning knew that her eyes were brimming with excitement.
The box of chocolates had gone flying when they jumped up, but Lightning didn’t care anymore. Fiddle was smiling, tears streaming down her face and smudging her makeup. “She made it,” Fiddle sobbed. “She did it.”
“She did,” Lightning agreed. Star Dust scanned the stadium as she flew her opening pattern until her eyes came to a rest on their booth. She smiled even wider and waved. Lightning waved back as she fought back tears. “Go get ’em, kid,” she whispered.
A sense of pride surged through her as she watched Star finish her routine. In that moment, Lightning felt something rush through her veins. It reminded her of flying. For a second, it felt like she had both wings again and was gliding through the air, gazing down upon the cityscape far below her.
Memories surged through her mind faster than the ponies flying outside. She recalled the nights in the hospital and being told she'd lose her wing. She remembered the late nights arguing with Fiddle and Star, and she remembered the fighting and the yelling between the three of them. They came so very close to giving up, before deciding to give it one last try.
And it all paid off. The adrenaline coursing through her body faded away as fast as Star Dust flew through the sky, but Lightning couldn't care less. Her head was light and her heart was so full it felt like it would burst, but that didn't stop her. She almost felt tired, as if her body had given up now that it had accomplished her goal.
It didn't matter that she was older. It didn't matter that she was weaker or that she was missing a wing. Because she felt whole again.
Lightning Dust would never be a Wonderbolt.
But her daughter would.
