"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view - until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."
-Atticus Finch, To Kill A Mockingbird
I’ve always had a friendly grudge, kinda a rivalry against her. Maybe it’s the fact we’re both athletic, we both have that drive. Maybe it’s the fact that our personalities are so alike, and yet so different. Maybe it’s our dreams, our goals in life. They’ve never changed, not in either of us. It was obvious to me that I just wanted to stay on the farm, just like it was obvious she wanted to become one of the fastest in the country.
But for the longest time, I thought she wasn’t like me.
She was lazy, always taking naps. I would go to harvest the apple trees and she’d be there, snoozing high up in the branches. How she got up there without someone noticing, I don’t know, but she always got a rude awakening. I had a hard work ethic. I just couldn’t let something go undone. There was no time for a nap in my day. It was work in, work out. I wasn’t a workaholic by any means, but I got the job done. Darn well too.
I had a routine; five in the morning, wake up, breakfast, plow, lunch, harvest, dinner, talk, sleep. Sometimes I’d hang out with friends, but it was kinda day in, day out. That was me, as dependable as the earth under your feet. Friends knew me as the most honest person for miles around. She was unpredictable, just like the wind and the sky. She was prone to bursts of wildness. Kinda light hearted, I always thought. Dancing from one cloud to the next, her head always in the sky. Get the job done as quick as you can. Ten seconds flat, she said. And she was always blowing her top at the smallest word, the slightest provocation. I thought she could just as easily abandon a friend for her dreams as help them out of a sticky situation.
She was kinda...I don’t know, vain. All that bragging and such, the fastest, the most awesome, the one who was going to make the team, the one, the only...I never wanted too much of that. The glory, the fame, the limelight, none of it. All I wanted was to stay on the farm and do my parents proud. Do our family proud. Maybe earn some bits to make the farm better, but nothing much past that.
For the longest time, I thought I wasn’t like her. Not at all.
Nothing could’ve been farther from the truth.
I don’t know when I started to get an inkling for what she was really like. Maybe it was the way she just kinda took off into the sky with just a laugh when I rudely awakened her some days. Maybe it was her asking to come over for apple pie just one time too many, and taking the leftovers with her too. Maybe it was the way she talked when she got serious, like she understood what others had gone through, like she had done it herself.
But if you had me choose one thing that made me suspicious, it was the eyes.
Those eyes. I’ve always thought of myself a pretty good lie detector. Heck, most ponies knew it would be better to just fess up to whatever they did when I came around to hear what they were spouting. But not her. No, she kept it hidden. Behind those fierce rosy eyes staring proudly out at the world, daring, challenging anyone to come near her. I think I knew it the first time we stared each other down. I just...didn’t acknowledge it. I just thought she was some person with some type of attitude problem. In hindsight, it was plain as day. Maybe not to some passerby, but to me? It was a façade. Something was hiding back there. I had seen those eyes before. I couldn’t remember where, but I knew those eyes, and I knew they were hiding something.
I still can’t believe it took me so long to realize it.
One day, I decided to follow her as she took off with a cheery wing waggle, weaving between the apple trees after one of my rude awakenings and a good scolding to boot. I was tired of having to knock her out of the trees. There must have been a reason why she was doing this.
I was also curious. What could put her in such a good mood that she would just take anything I threw at her? I knew that most of the time, she would have usually blown her top with annoyance if I had spoken one word against the sacred nap.
She wasn’t easy to follow. Heck, why would she be? She was one of the fastest ponies I knew. But I kept up. Years of working on the farm will do that to you. Pulling plows, climbing ladders, it was second nature to me. Endurance was always my specialty. I could keep going long after my big brother had called it quits for the day. But I had to be stealthy too. I just got this feeling that no one else knew about those little forays. Usually I don’t put too much stock in a hunch. But those eyes, those eyes gave me a basis. A rock for my suspicions to build on. I had to get to the truth. What lied behind those eyes.
The dirt underneath my hooves receded, to be replaced with cobblestone. The wide fields and clearings soon gave way to buildings and streetlights. We were headed into town. Though for what reason, I didn’t know. If I remembered correctly, this was her work period. She should be up in the sky, herding the clouds. Just another reason I wasn’t like her.
We soon came to a building I had passed by multiple times before, but never really paid attention to. I don’t even think that I would have noticed it if I hadn’t followed her. She went in, but left the door ajar. I put my ear close to the small crack.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’d like to talk to your matron please.”
“Sure...um...MS. APRON! MS. APRON!”
Hoofsteps on wood sounded. A kindly voice, soft in its tone, rang out. It was quiet, but commanded silence.
“Thank you, Lily. Go outside and play now.”
“Yes’m, ma’am!” The sound of running rang out, rapidly receding as the filly ran out the back door. I left the door ajar and trotted into the shadowed alleyway to the left of this place, whatever it was. Rounding the corner, I saw a large play area, fenced in. A large oak tree dominated the space, its leaves casting dappled shadows over the grass.
It was like a small piece of the meadows I knew from the outskirts of the town. Untouched by the construction workers. Young colts and fillies frolicked, climbing the tree, horsing around. Not an adult in sight, besides the matron inside.
Matrons, foals without parents. The way the place seemed so...dreary and alone. It all clicked.
An orphanage. That was the only explanation. Memories flashed behind my eyes at the realization. Memories I thought I had locked away.
The night, usually a velvety black, was orange. Small flecks of yellow flew up into the air.
A foreleg around me. The ground bounced unevenly. But the foreleg was constant.
I was deposited on the ground. The world spun. I heard bawling, a cracked old voice, a worried whimper. Suddenly, I felt something on my head. Then a calm, soft voice, steely with determination.
"Here, keep this. I’ll be back soon! And here, Mac!" A grunt.
I lifted my head just in time to see the speaker, a well-built stallion, run back into the heat and light and smoke. I stood shakily.
I waited seconds. Minutes. Then he reappeared, this time with another limping behind him. She was slimmer, yet her wiry body bespoke the strength underneath.
I remember it in slow motion. An awful crack. The walls bulged out. Debris began to fall. The roof collapsed.
Straight onto the two figures, standing in the flickering orange. A raw word split the night. I’m not sure if it came from me or Big Mac or somepony else. Or maybe it didn’t even come out.
"PAPA!"
He gave me one last smile, right before the flames and burning wood consumed them. "You take good care of my hat and yoke now, y’hear?"
And Ma just gave me a look. A look filled with all the love a mother can give.
And that was the last of Pa. And Ma too.
Lily’s voice jarred me out of my recollection.
“Hey Scoots, she’s here!”
An orange filly with a clashing purple mane suddenly whipped her head up. “Oh gosh, I GOTTA talk to her.” She leapt up and raced inside, the door banging behind her. I took the time to get back to the door and continue my eavesdropping.
“HEY RAINBOW DASH!”
Scoots’ voice sang out. The hallway was filled with the sound of small hooves galloping.
“Oh, heya squirt. How ya doin’?” Dash’s voice slid effortlessly into the cool, calm voice that I’d heard from her countless times, one of assurance, of self-confidence.
“Great! I was doing those wing exercises like you told me. Five forward, five backward, ten times. Stretch the muscles, get the blood flowing...”
“Nice job. Tell ya what, you should try flying soon. I know the perfect place. Meet me at that cliff near the lake in a hour. You know, the one that crazy ponies jump off of? We could teach you how to glide.”
“That’s awesome Rainbow! I’ll be there!” And the brash voice left, hoofsteps receding rapidly.
A sigh escaped the cyan mare. “She’s a lot like myself at that age.”
“Scootaloo is something special, alright.” The matron chuckled, a burbling river of quiet sound.
“Anyway, here. That should hold you over till, oh, say next month. Anyway…”
That was the last I heard of their exchange.. I gathered that the conversation was close to over, and I knew the way that Dash moved, I’d be found out if I stayed a second longer.
I had some facts now. That was more than I had before. But I didn’t know what to make of them.
Dash was going on secret trips to an orphanage. But why were they secret? It’s not a crime to go to an orphanage.
She seemed to support the orphanage, donating money to their cause.
There was one orphan that Dash had taken under her wing. She seemed to care about that little filly a lot. And that “Scoots” basically idolized her. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, knowing Dash’s ego. But then again, whatever she saw in Dash wasn’t that important. At least, that’s what I thought.
It was like having a puzzle. I had a few of the pieces, but I couldn’t put them together. None of them fit. I needed more time, more pieces.
But time was on my side. Funny how that worked. Usually time is against me, and I have to race it to get the apples, to meet the deadline, to satisfy the customers. But this time? This time, I had every second and minute I could want.
Every few days, Dash went to the small wooden building. And every time, I would follow discreetly, a small distance away from the rainbow in the sky.
And every time, I’d learn a bit more. I’d get another piece. Granted, most of the time I wouldn’t get the pieces about Dash, but I began to paint a picture of the children, the ponies around Dash.
Lily was a sweet, shy filly. She was absorbed in nature, always playing with small vines and leaves, twining them together into little wreaths. She reminded me of another pony that kept to herself.
Shine picked up spare bits off the street. Then he gave them to Ms. Apron, a kindly mare with eyes that said she'd experienced the hardships of the world. I hadn’t expected a colt so young to grow up so fast, to know the value of every single bit, to know that every one counted. Around his age, Big Mac was still playing out in the fields.
Scootaloo, or “Scoots”, was a daredevil, always trying out new tricks and thinking up the next great stunt. Her natural talent for balance helped, but more often than not, it was her sheer perseverance that paid off. She and my sister, along with a third unicorn filly, had hit it off quite well. They had their hooves on everything.
Those days helped me understand what Dash was doing. She was supporting the young ones, giving them a place to stand. The orphanage took her money, and transformed it into a jumping off point. One of the few facts I actually gleaned about Dash was that her money sent the kids to school, among other things. She was giving them a future.
That was all well and good, and I respected her for that. I knew what she had done, and I was impressed. But I needed more. I still knew nothing about the mare I came to learn more about. That sounds like I was stalking her, but she was honestly a mystery to me. And I couldn’t pierce that aura of confidence she had. The only chink in her armor was the eyes, and that was small indeed. Could I ever understand her?
It hit me as I was hanging up my hat for the day. All part of the regular routine. Hang up the hat, say to myself what needed to be done tomorrow, climb into bed, hit the hay. But that night, there was an extra step. I hung up my hat, said I needed to harvest the southern fields, and then caught a glance of myself in the window. More importantly, the eyes.
I never really thought about it before. To take a step back, and look at every possibility.
For the longest time, I thought she wasn’t like me. I had taken that as fact. A central dogma in my investigation of that mare, those eyes.
But in that moment, what I saw contradicted that, shook my beliefs.
Because instead of just seeing myself, I saw her face in the window, but with emerald eyes.
My emerald eyes.
I denied it at first. I tossed and turned in bed, the routine broken. I kept thinking that what I had seen couldn’t be the truth. Was she like me? No. There were all those differences between me and her. I was hard working, she was lazy, I was humble, she was a braggart, she did things quick, I took them slow, I was patient, she was quick to anger.
But as I thought about it, I began to realize I was wrong. That maybe, we were more alike than I had first realized.
Was my stubbornness any different from her short fuse? Our heated arguments about the most trivial of things seemed to say no. Just as she was quick to anger, I wouldn’t budge a bit from whatever I felt was right.
Didn’t she do a good thorough job, even if she did it fast? She never left a cloud in the sky that didn’t need to be there. Just like every apple off the tree.
I had pride, but was it that different from her boasting? Everything she claimed to be, she was. Sure, she exaggerated, but on the whole, I hadn’t seen a claim she had yet to prove. And I did take pride in what I did on the farm. Some touchy ponies might call that bragging.
She didn’t HAVE to get up around 7 every morning. She could do her job in ten seconds flat! But she did. Every morning. Sure, later than me, but still every day.
I was patient, sure. But sometimes, you just gotta push. Besides, I'd seen Dash at the orphanage sometimes, and the way she put up with Scootaloo was definitely not how'd I have done it. I'd have told her to buzz off ages ago.
The picture I had painted myself of a lazy, good-for-nothing mare was cracking, falling apart. The eyes had indeed proved to be the chink, though not in the way I had expected. The pieces were coming together.
I had put Rainbow Dash into a mold, and when I broke it open, she didn't fit it at all. So I decided to make a new one. I took all I knew about the pegasus. Her vanity, her drive, her short temper, her loyalty. I created a new mold, one that fitted with her actions, the ones that I had thought to be off about her. The brush-offs, the understanding, what was in those rose-colored eyes. And it came together. Just like how the the final piece of a puzzle is obvious, I finally found what I had missed that entire time. The final fact, the one that fit perfectly.
All I needed was to ask her one question. Just one, and I’d be able to see who she really was, behind those eyes. I'd lay to rest this nagging feeling of needing to know. I'd finish the puzzle for sure.
It was easy enough to get ahold of Rainbow. Piecing together more facts, I figured that around one each day she’d be in our orchards, taking her nap. Another thing that we shared, a routine. Hers wasn’t as rigorous as mine, but I learned that she DID follow one. So I looked up around lunch, when nopony else was around.
And sure enough, a rainbow trail, ending in the southern orchard. That worked out nicely, I had to go there anyhow. Now I didn’t have to make up an excuse. Plus, I finally found out how she kept sneaking into our orchards without anyone noticing. She just did it discreetly, while no one was watching.
I scarfed down lunch quick and got back to work. When I found the tree that Dash had set up camp in, I skipped it and moved on. Usually, I’d just give the tree a good bucking, but today, I had to talk to Dash, and I couldn’t risk sending her off.
Well, danged if I didn’t come back and Dash was awake, hovering above the ground.
“Are you sure you’re Applejack?” Dash said with a grin. “I usually can’t nap in peace, because Applejack comes around and gives the tree a good bucking. And then gives ME a good scolding.” Dash’s grin shrank a bit, back down to a softer smile, one I rarely saw on the brash pegasus. “But I woke up on my own today, still in the same tree, and not on the ground. I also saw you’d been around, ‘cause none of the other trees had apples. So I figured you had something on your mind.”
I sighed. This was it. “Yeah, Dash, I got something on my mind. But before I tell you, please promise me something.”
Dash quirked an eye. “OK, you’re definitely not Applejack. AJ just comes out with it. What have you done with her?”
And that’s true. I usually would just ask it straight. But this question...this one was more dangerous and more touchy. It was something personal. I wouldn’t ask anyone this question, if i didn’t have to. But I had to know. I had to get to the mare behind those eyes.
Finish what you started, Pa had said.
“Please, Rainbow.” I insisted. I stared her straight in the eye. And I think she saw something there, because that quirked eye disappeared.
“OK then.” Rainbow’s tone remained light, but I noticed a minor tensing of the wings, like she was getting ready to fly at the slightest sign of danger. “So what’s this promise?”
“I have one question. Promise that you’ll answer it and be honest with me.”
Dash whistled softly. “That’s it? You sure about that?” Her wings started to shift a bit, like they wanted to get flying and never stop.
“One promise, then one question, that’s all I want.” I reassured her.
“Amazing what that can turn into, one promise and one question.” Dash seemed like she wasn’t all in the present, but that only lasted a moment. She raised her left hoof. “Fine then, I solemnly promise to answer your question with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Now shoot.”
I took a deep breath. Now or never.
“Dash, are you an orphan?”
Dash just froze. The confident mare who couldn’t bear to stand still too long, she just froze. I didn’t even think I could elicit a reaction like that.
“I–I don’t think...I can answer that right now.”
She choked a bit. And in that instant, I saw a different side of her. One she rarely let others see. I had never seen it myself. It was a hurt RD, one that had covered it up for so long. But it was a fleeting glance, gone in a second. She steeled herself, and the moment was gone.
“But I gave you my word. And I’d never leave a friend hanging. Just...give me some time, OK?”
“I understand completely, sugarcube.”
When she came by later, saying she was ready to spill, I asked her to wait a moment, then we could go. I went back inside the home and returned with four apple pies. Dang, she didn’t hesitate one second, she took the four and sped off. I followed, my hooves drumming against the ground.
She took me to a spot I’ve never seen before. And seeing as I lived in this town all my life, I found it a bit of a surprise.
The cliff was steep, overlooking the lake that I’d passed by countless times, and even swam in when I was a filly. But I’d never really looked at it, you know? There was a kind of sereneness around the place. One of those places untouched by hooves.
Rainbow alighted softly, the overgrown grass swaying lightly with the breeze she brought with her. She said that she’d never shown this place to anypony but two: her oldest friend, and Scootaloo. I could follow her train of thought. This place was pure. Still untouched by ponies.
Working on the farm and talking to Granny, I learned to respect nature. It had the ability to create life, and it also had the ability to take it away, as I learned the hard way. Better to take what you were allowed to take, and not press the issue. This little slice of land was the earth’s, and I was happy to leave it that way.
We split the pies between us. And as we chewed, we admired the scene, the sun playing off the water. Rainbow felt no need to break the silence, and I didn’t either.
But soon enough, I had to broach the subject. “So...”
“Yeah, I got it.” Dash took a breath. “Well...yes. You wanna hear the story? It’s kinda a long one.”
“Dash, I got all the time in the world right now. Take all you want.”
I was enveloped in grey and white. A howl, more animal than any I’d heard in my short life. And cold. Bitter cold, slicing rain, slashing winds. I burrowed deeper into the clouds, trying to escape all of them. Then a voice.
“Dashie, you HAVE to get out of here!”
I mumbled. “So cold...”
“Yes, I know it’s cold, Dashie, but you gotta come with me! We need to get you someplace safe. Here, take my hoof.”
“You can’t help me. Just go...” The small part of my mind that was thinking rationally said that. And honestly, I was probably right. I was in the outskirts of what ponies would call Discord’s Joke. A cruel joke, if there ever was one.
We had just been out there. Flying. What we enjoyed. Me, my mom, my dad. All fliers. We loved the sky. We didn’t have any idea what was happening. The storm was just moving too fast. I lost Dad first. But Mom stayed a bit longer.
“Yes, I can, Dashie!” The voice–Firefly–insisted. “Just grab my hoof. Please.”
And the part of me that just wanted to live grabbed it.
Next thing I knew, I was soaring through the sky. Faster than I had ever been. The warm cradle of Mom’s legs was like a shield. And my mother...well, she was like a goddess of flight. Twist this way, barrel roll that way, dive, use the clouds for a ricochet. Dancing, that’s what it was. We got a good ten miles away before she set me down. “Listen, Dashie, I’m going to go back in.”
I was stunned. “Why? It’s scary in there.”
“Your father’s still in there. I’m going to see if I can find him.”
My vision blurred. I couldn’t tell if it was the rain or the tears. Maybe a bit of both. You’re coming back, right?
She nuzzled me. “Of course, my little Dashie. I promise. Wait for me.”
And with that, she was off. And I waited for so long. I was still waiting in that spot when somebody found me and took me home.
They said Mom was missing. So was Dad. I didn’t believe them until I got a message from the hospital a few hours later. One last request from a Firefly.
I saw her on a warm cloud, doctors surrounding her. Mom!
She flashed a weak, but confident smile. “Hey there, Dashie. Well, I came back. Not for long though, I’ll be leaving soon.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Doctors said I don’t have long left. Think I might’ve cracked one too many this time. They say one of my ribs punctured my lungs. Probably from that last hit, bashing that cloud wall to get out of there.” She shook her head feebly. “Damn fool thing to do, but I keep my promises, and it was either that or never see you again.”
I was incredulous. And probably in denial."But clouds are SOFT! You can't hurt yourself bashing into clouds."
Firefly gave me an approving look. "Right you are! But clouds in a storm like that, they wear down your endurance. Freezing rain slows you down, and hail can hurt if you hit it. That one I hit..." She chuckled, a painful sound compared to what was in my memories. "Celestia, that was huge. Must've been a comet or something. If I'd just been a bit faster..."
“And Dad?” My voice quavered a bit. I didn’t want to hear the answer. But I had to know. I think I already did.
Her eyes dimmed with grief. “Two broken wings. He didn’t stand a chance. He’d lost too much blood. He told me to go on. Said to see our daughter. One last time.” She laughed softly, but there wasn’t any mirth in it. “And I did. I sure did.” She closed her eyes. Drew in one more shaky breath.
I began to panic. The tears that I had been holding back came, dripping softly onto her covers. “You can’t leave! You’re Firefly! You’re invincible! You’re...”
Firefly opened her eyes one last time. But they weren’t her eyes. The spark was leaving. “Dashie, sometimes, even the invincible have to yield to something. And I yield to you. Make us proud, Rainbow Dash. And we always loved our...little...” The eyes closed for the final time.
“...Dashie.” I finished the sentence, tears streaming out of my eyes. But already I was being forced to clear out. Doctors were making notes of the time, arranging the funeral, cleaning up with brutal efficiency. I strained for one last glimpse, but I didn’t get it.
I was moved to the orphanage the next day.
Dash’s story was a bitter memory. Her face was so different from the self-assured aura that she usually put on. And the look on her face...I felt it all too clearly. I was forcing her to relive pain. But I understood that pain.
“Wow...”
“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes roughly. “But now I have my own question. How did you guess? I’ve been keeping those memories under for Celestia knows how long.”
I took a deep breath. “Well, then it’s time for me to share my story.”
“You too, huh?” Dash finished off the third pie, and we started in on the fourth.
“Yep...And to tell the truth, I just shoved that into a corner of my mind.” I inhaled one half of the pie. “Never to see again...though they came back.”
“Strange how our stories are kinda alike. Both lost to nature.” I hadn’t expected something that philosophical from Dash, but I’d realized by now there was always something more to this mare.
Silence reigned for a while as we finished the pie off.
“Hey, AJ?”
“Yeah, Dash?” I wasn’t really expecting her to be so tentative. But then again, there was still a lot I didn’t know about this mare.
“You’re a good friend.” That caught me off guard, but not as much as I would have been, had I not understood where she was coming from.
“Don’t mention it. It’s just what I do.” Cleaning up the remains of the pies, I had one last idea. Something...interesting. And knowing how alike we were, I was pretty sure she’d cotton on pretty quick. I trotted over to the cliff. “So...ever jump off this cliff?”
Dash looked at me funny. “You do know only crazy ponies jump off that cliff, right? Of course I’ve jumped off it!”
“Well, then I’ll rephrase that. Have you ever dived off this cliff?”
“Dived? Whaddya mean, dived? You don’t aim to hit the water, silly! That's not crazy, that's insane.”
“Is that a challenge, Dash?” I quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Weell...maybe it is.” A wild grin began to appear on the cyan face.
“Challenge accepted, then.”
“Oh y–” That’s all that Dash could say before I tossed my hat off and leapt off the cliff.
“GET BACK HERE, AJ!” Twisting in the air, I saw Dash hurl herself off the cliff after me, a fierce smile on her face.
I hit the water with barely a splash. And when I came up, Dash was shaking her mane out, treading water like she’d done this a million times.
“AJ, in case you didn’t get the memo, only crazy ponies jump off this cliff. And only insane ponies dive off it.”
“Well, that makes you as crazy as me, RD.” I chuckled, and soon, Rainbow Dash joined in.
For the longest time, I thought I wasn't like her.
But in fact, we were kindred spirits. The earth and sky exist together in nature. Just like us.
