“That’s it,” Stormy Flare cheered for her daughter. “You’re only few steps away. I know you can do it.”
“Will you quit already?” Spitfire grumbled. “I can still see you know.” Spitfire’s walk atop the stairway proved to be an unnecessary challenge. Her wings ached at each step she took.
Stormy watched her daughter struggle upon the ten steps to their porch. Her hoof shifted at each grunt of her daughter. “If it’s too much trouble, I could carry you?” Stormy said. “It would be just like old times when you loved for me to carry you whenever we went. You were so greedy over me that hated to share me with other ponies.” Stormy’s suggestion earned a glare from her daughter.
“You must be crazy if you think I would ever let you do that,” Spitfire said. “Do you have any idea what ponies would think if they see the captain of the Wonderbolts being cradled around by their mom?”
“You can’t humor for at least a moment.” Stormy descended beside her daughter after noting Spitfire’s struggle on the sixth step. “And you shouldn’t be frantic about images. You’ll always be my number one pony in my eyes.”
“That’s not the point, mom.” Spitfire growled. She took a breath after finally reaching the sixth step of the stairway. It seemed the higher she went, the more heightened the pain in her wings would sprout. Aren’t her bandages supposed to suppress this?
Spitfire often looked back to the passing residents of Canterlot. She couldn’t help but wonder what thought, seeing the captain of the Wonderbolt having such a hard time to climb ten simple steps.
Though Spitfire protested against her mother being by her side, her body dispensed it’s her weight upon her. Somehow that made the trip to the porch easier, but she would never admit it to her mother.
Stormy opened the door into the house and guided her daughter inside. The smell of peppermint invaded Spitfire’s nostrils. Though it did not come to a surprise to Spitfire. It’s exactly what she would expect in this time of year.
Stormy guided her daughter through the luxurious carpets and lightings she hanged upon the walls. Passing through the stairs, Stormy welcomed Spitfire back to her daughter’s old bedroom.
The room was vacant of the posters that Spitfire had plastered on the walls and of belongings she would constantly litter across the floor. Her foresight was a talent that she developed late in her life. Just think what her teammates would think of her if they found how much of a messy filly she used to be. She’d never hear the end of it.
Stormy guided Spitfire into her bed despite her daughter’s protest. “I can do rest,” Spitfire told her mother. “You don’t have to baby me.”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do about that,” Stormy said as she pulled the sheets to her daughter’s neck. The fabric was warm and smooth despite her long years away from this room.
Spitfire’s heart sped when she noted her closet. She remembered having a small collection of comics. She never managed to find them through her heap of trash before heading out to become a Wonderbolt. Please, please, please, let it disappear to the unknown abyss.
“What are you looking at?” Stormy Flare followed her daughter’s gaze towards the closet. “Oh, are you curious what I did with your books? I stored them in a cardboard box in the basement if you want them back.”
Spitfire felt a stinging heat building up in her cheeks. “Just throw them away,” she mumbled. “They’re not mine.”
Stormy gave her daughter a sweet smile. “Are you sure you want me to do that? I think it’s cute that magical fillies interest you?”
“I just said it’s not mine!” Spitfire shouted. “Now, can we please stop talking about that now? It’s not something I enjoy sharing with my mom.”
“Oh Spitfire.” Stormy nuzzled her daughter back onto the bed and pulled the sheets back over her. “You shouldn’t be afraid to share anything with your mother. But don’t you worry, we have the whole holiday to bond.”
“Oh goody,” Spitfire said, unamused. Spending the entire holiday at her old home was not what she expected from her break. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her mother. However, she had an entire plan at Manehattan with her teammates. There was a festival to be held, and she wanted to unwind herself with them before she retired for the break.
If only that incident didn’t happen, she would have the time of her life with her crew right now.
It happened a week ago before the Wonderbolt’s Hearth’s Warming break began. Spitfire had scheduled a flight practice to review the performance of each of her crewmates.
As their captain, she must take priority in knowing their standings among the team. If any were to fall behind, it would harm the rest of the crew.
Spitfire can still vividly remember the year when Soarin had dropped a quarter of his capabilities. She worked that stallion ragged for the next three months that she might have traumatized him to never slack off again. Ah, good times.
But of course, Spitfire had to take in the practice as well. What would be the point in holding the exercise if not all members of the Wonderbolt took part?
However, the winds had other plans for her. It was supposed to be the usual dynamics around the clouds to test each member’s flexibility across the winds. But for her, there was an odd quirk in her wings that suddenly sprained them.
The sprain overwhelmed her whole senses that she lost her concentration and became at the mercy of her own turbulence. The wild winds drove Spitfire off course from the Academy as her teammates tried to rush in to save her.
But she built up too much speed, and in mere seconds, she would crash into a building at a nearby town. She wouldn’t allow it, so broke a rule from flying codes.
Never are you to fight against rough winds. What a Pegasi must do is find control through the wind path and gradually wound down the winds. But given the circumstances, Spitfire did not have any options.
She fought the harsh winds and managed the tame the winds enough to crash off course from a building. The rough landing left her wounded and fatigued, lacking the strength to return to base.
Her teammates had to call in a hot-air balloon to make her return. That hurt her. She felt the pride in her Pegasi blood being pricked. But nothing more than finding that her wings had been fractured.
Thankfully, the doctors reported that it would recover in two months. But that would mean that Wonderbolts would be without her a month after the break, which means they would require a new captain in her place…
“Would like some hot cocoa?” Stormy offered. “You must be cold after your travel.”
“It’s not that bad, okay. My body is strong. I won’t be on the bench for that long.”
Stormy quirked her eyes. “I hope you don’t plan on doing any sort of exercises. The key to recovery is to let your body rest.”
“Hey, I know my body, okay. This’ll be a breeze.”
“So, is that a no to the hot cocoa?”
“… Just one cup.”
The sun gave birth to a new day. Stormy Flare wakes from her bed and begins with her morning rituals. After a shower and an eloquent makeup, she exits her room to greet her daughter.
She can still remember fond memories where she would saunter in her daughter’s room and find her spayed unceremoniously on her bed. Her daughter would push her body to its limits through the days and nights. All for her dream of becoming a Wonderbolt.
However, Stormy stood befuddled when she did not find her daughter in her bed. With her condition, Stormy would of thought that she know best what to do with herself. Stormy let out a sigh, knowing now that her daughter clearly did not.
Stormy perked to a voice from downstairs. She descended the stairs and entered the living room, where she found her daughter attempting push-ups with her injured wings.
“Spitfire!” Stormy called her daughter. Spitfire gawked at her mother and splatted on the ground after losing the slight control she had of her wings. “What do you think you’re doing!?”
Spitfire picked her body and rubbed her snout that pounded on the floor. “What does it look like?” Spitfire questioned her mother, her voice grumbled in disappoint in not managing not a single pump through her session. “I’m doing my morning exercise. I can’t waste away on the bed.”
“What you’re supposed to be doing is getting your rest.” Stormy Flare stepped before her daughter with a disapproving gaze. “You’ll only stay bedridden longer if you continue that reckless behavior of yours.”
“Who are you calling reckless?” Spitfire challenged her mother with a glare. That ire of hers quickly retreated when she noted her mother’s. “I mean,” Spitfire continued, her voice calmed. “I’m the captain of the Wonderbotls. I know what I am doing?”
“No,” Stormy stated. “You clearly don’t. You’re always the proud zealot of safety for others. But when you’re at your moment of weakness, all that principle of yours goes out the window to protect that pride of yours. You don’t see how hypocritical that is, do you?”
“Hey,” Spitfire raised her voice, offended. “My pride isn’t hurt. I just want to get better, that’s all.”
Stormy approached her daughter with a hug. “Then let your body rest. I promise everything will get better once you give your body time.”
Spitfire felt an instant instinct to push her mother away. Instead, she let out a sigh. “I know what I’m doing. Just leave me alone, please?”
“Nuh-uh,” Stormy retorted with a calm voice. “What you need is some calcium for your wing bones and a long relaxation. Lucky for you, I have a day at the spa planned out for the two of us.”
Spitfire grumbled beneath her breath. Nothing that Stormy could make out. “Is that what you’re going to be doing all holiday? You’re going to hold me down like I’m some prisoner?”
“Oh my,” Stormy chuckled. “I didn’t think you go into your exaggerations so quickly. It’s just like back in your school days when you went in that goth phase.”
“Okay, fine!” Spitfire snapped. “Let’s just go already. I don’t ever want to talk about that.”
The evening came after Spitfire endured her bouts with her mother. She was finally blessed with a moment of peace when Stormy excused herself to go shopping. Now alone, her chance works her bones finally arrived.
Yes, yes, she’s aware of her mother’s warning. However, Spitfire was confident that this was necessity to speed her recovery. She just needs to take smaller steps.
She climbed to the rooftop of the house. She could ponies littered in the streets of Canterlot. They coated themselves in fabrics from the snow coated across the city.
The frigid air made her shiver. She hasn’t been inside the house long and already the cold has her skin quaking. But she wouldn’t let that stop her.
Spitfire locked her sight into a street. She recalls hundreds of memories walking down that path. From her walks to school, with her mother from work, from her flight practices, the times were endless. And today, it would mark the beginning of her recovery.
She planned to start with a simple glide across the street. Her wings may not be about to pick her weight, but it should still be able to be carried by the winds. Give it a week or two, and then wing bones, and eventually she can transition back into her usual exercise.
Spitfire winced when she spread her wings. It didn’t hurt this bad when the spa mares touched them. But she would not let this stop her. She banked upon the pain to wane, eventually.
She took a chilly breath and leaped off the rooftop. She kept her wings wide and let the winds lift across the air. Its gentle touch made Spitfire yelp. Her body acted against her and retracted her wings. She descended fast.
She had no strength to pull her wings out again. She expected a heavy collision to the cobblestone street. Instead, she fell upon a soft cushion.
Spitfire opened her eyes and met her disapproving mother. “Somehow, I knew you would do this,” Stormy sighed.
Stormy led her daughter back into the living room and placed her on the couch. “Now, I don’t want you leaving that couch until I come back, got it?”
Spitfire attempted to rise from the couch, but her mother prodded her back on. She yelped from the slight contact her mother made upon her wing.
Stormy eyed at her daughter with a glare that made the captain of the Wonderbolts unnerved. “Promise me you won’t leave this couch,” Stormy demanded.
Spitfire grumbled a few words before she finally relented. “I won’t leave the couch.”
Stormy observed her daughter for a moment and then nodded. “Good. I expect you to not break a promise with your mother.”
Stormy left the house, and again Spitfire was alone. This time she behaved like the obedient prisoner her mother wanted to be.
The house would be quiet without the kindling flames within the chimney. The fire was getting smaller. She can hear the beat of the flames becoming slightly slower.
A thought comes to her mind. A thought has pestered since the beginning of this debacle. She’s pondered about it once or twice through her career, but never had it felt so apparent.
Spitfire took a glance at her injured wings. She then looked back at the dwindling flames and let out a sigh. “How much time do I have left as their captain?”
She finally said it. And hearing it coming from her mouth made it sound more depressing.
Spitfire had never imagined herself becoming captain of the Wonderbolts. Her heart could have taken solace in making it with the pros. But when her former captain passed the badge to her, it was frankly the best the moment of her life.
What would she do without it? Where would she go when her time comes to pass? Who will she be when she eventually retires?
Spitfire stuffed her face into the couch. She hated thinking about this. But the beating flames in the chimney continued to serve as a reminder to her. Though time is long, it is not forever. Everything always has an end.
Soarin passed the ten steps before he knocked upon a door. He’s never been around this part of the city, so he got worried that he might end up lost. Thankfully, the heavy decorations of a particular house made it very apparent where she needed to go.
Stormy Flare opened the door and welcomed him with an amorous gaze. “Oh my, you’re the cute one. Well, why don’t you bring yourself in.”
Soarin chuckled. “Well, don’t mine if I do.” Stormy closed the door behind Soarin. The strong whiffs of peppermint invaded his snout.
“Sorry for coming by a bit late,” Soarin said. “The train got a little held up by the snow on the way from Manehattan. Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any of your good ole apple pie around here, would you?”
“Of course,” Stormy answered and sauntered into the kitchen. Her voice echoed to the foyer where Soarin waited. “You know, Spitfire knows how to make apple pie as well. She could keep you sweet and famished every day if you’d like.”
“Uh,” Soarin stammered. “Speaking of Spitfire, how has she been?”
Stormy returned with a plate of apple pie. She placed it on Soarin’s welcoming hoof. “Not too well I’m afraid,” she answered. “I’ve finally gotten her to stop with antics, but now she’s been mostly brooding when I’m not around.”
“Spitfire is in low spirits,” Soarin said, surprised. “At this time of the year?”
“Maybe an encouragement from a friend is what she needs,” Stormy suggested.
Soarin entered the living room where in found his captain in an odd position. Spitfire had her belly propped atop two chairs with stacked books underneath to serve as a foundation. A fan blew before her, grazing upon her unfurled wings.
Soarin quirked a brow. He took a bite of the apple pie. He then spoke, “So, what exactly are you doing there?”
Spitfire looked back at him. She gave him an unamused glance before staring back at the fan. “Don’t judge me. This is all I have right now.”
Soarin paused and then took another bite of the apple pie. “You know, you’re not going to get any better if you keep that up.”
“Are you supposed to be my mom?” Spitfire grumbled. Soarin set his plate on a table before he sat next to his captain. Spitfire eyed at him, befuddled. “What?”
“I’ve seen that look on your face before,” he said. “Got something eatin at you?”
Spitfire rolled her eyes. “And what if I do? It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Heh,” Soarin chuckled. “And here I though Rainbow Dash was the most troublesome when injured.”
“Do you see me sneaking though any hospitals?” Spitfire questioned. “And why aren’t you with the others at Manehattan? The festival is supposed to start tomorrow.”
“I only needed to go there to pick out gifts,” Soarin answered. “Besides, I felt like you needed some company. We Wonderbolts gotta stick together.”
Spitfire couldn’t help but grin at his words. But then it followed with a sad sigh.
She sat up onto the chair and stared at the flames in the chimney again. It dwindled. “Hey Soarin,” Spitfire spoke after a moment of silence. “You have any plans after retiring from the Wonderbolts?”
Soarin quirked a brow. “That’s an odd question to ask. I don’t think I have worried about that for a few years.”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “But it’ll come, eventually. So, when it does, what will you do?”
“Well…” Soarin rubbed the back of his head. “I guess when I finally put the suit down, I’d probably devote more of my time at the flight camp in Cloudsdale. I’ve volunteered there this year and I think I’ve been really great with the foals. The camp is also welcoming griffins, dragons, and hippogriffs, so that’ll be exciting.”
“Wow.” Spitfire gaped at her teammate. “That does exciting. I wish I had something waiting for me.”
Soarin frowned. “Is that why you’re so mellow?”
Spitfire sighed. “Look Soarin, you know I’m not really one to open up about my own weaknesses. Especially the personal ones.”
“But it’s something that should share among teammates,” Soarin countered. “As Wonderbolts, we face everything together, no matter how tough, no matter how menial. You can’t back out of your words, Spitfire.”
“Ugh,” Spitfire groaned. “I actually remember saying. Maybe shut me up the next time I give that spiel.”
The quiet takes over the room again. She looked to the dwindling flames. “Ever since I became the captain of the Wonderbolts, the world felt different to me. I have so many ponies resting on my judgement and guidance to become the best they can be. I loved it. So much so, that I don’t know what I will do without it.”
“Yeah,” Soarin said. “The future can be scary. But you still have plenty of years to think about it. You’re tough and smart, so I’m sure you can figure that out.”
“I don’t know about that.” Spitfire gazed at her broken wings. “I worked so hard to get where I am now. Probably more than what my body can bargain for. I mean, at first, I thought that accident was random. But, what if it’s a sign?”
“C’mon, you can’t be serious.” Soarin took a seat on a chair next to Spitfire. “You can’t let that get to your head. All you need is some rest and you’ll be good as new.”
“Sure…” Spitfire said, her voice still mellow. Her eyes still focused upon the small flames in the chimney. It needed some wood to get its spark again.
The day of Hearth’s Warming Eve arrived as Spitfire followed her mother into the living room.
Spitfire had not seen Soarin since his previous. She wanted to be upset that he was neglecting. But perhaps he saw the sign as well.
Spitfire had resisted the thoughts through her stay at home. But perhaps it’s pointless to fight the inevitable. When she finally retires, she would have to find a suitable pony to relinquish her position to.
The thought of passing the torch to another rattled something Spitfire. She didn’t want to give it away, but knew that it was for her to decide. No pony can fight fate.
“Here you go, dear.” Stormy gave her daughter a red present box.
Spitfire gave her mother a weak smile. “You didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already done too much for me already.”
“Nonsense,” Stormy laughed. “I’m your mother. Over-performance is the only thing I can settle for.”
“You’re giving me a lot to make up for. You know how I don’t like to be in debt.”
“You ow me nothing,” Stormy said. “Besides, it’s not your role in this year to be the giver.”
Spitfire eyed at her mother, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
They heard a knock at the front door. Stormy excused herself to answer it, leaving Spitfire alone to stare at the flames in the chimney. Its flames would dwindle within time.
“Wow, she really does look down.” A familiar voice rang in Spitfire’s ear. Her eyes widened when she found Rainbow Dash entering the living room.
“Rainbow?” Spitfire said, surprised. “The heck are you doing here?” Her mouth slack jawed when she saw the rest of her teammates assemble around at the couch. They were teemed with smiles and grin at the stunned coach.
“Soarin has been telling us you’ve been down in the dumps,” Rainbow explained. “So, we all figured that needed a group of friends to get your holiday spirits up. And boy, he wasn’t wrong.”
Spitfire glared at Rainbow. “I’d watch that tone if I were you. I may be injured, but I still have my voice to run you ragged.”
“I say do it,” Misty Fly suggested. “She’s so much more bearable when she’s tired.”
“Misty!” Rainbow shouted. “What the heck?”
Misty and the others laughed. Spitfire on the other continued to look around her crew. Her friends. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate you guys coming here. But don’t you have plans with your friends and family? I don’t want to be that pony that impedes things.”
“This is where we want to be, Spitfire,” Soarin said. “So, you might as well give up and enjoy yourself.”
Spitfire gaped at Soarin and then leveled her head down. She tried to be quick to rub her eyes, but they caught her when they all gave a coo. She scowled at them. “That better not have sounded like what I think it did. Cause I’ll make you all regret it.”
Her teammates caught Spitfire off guard when they swarmed her with a group hug. She was caught off guard again when her mother flashed her camera before them. A thought to protest came upon her mind, but she resigned to snuggle within their grasp.
Her role as their captain may inevitably end. But that won’t mean she always appeared that way to them. And as long as she has them around, she won’t have to worry about her future alone. And maybe that’s the greatest gift she can ask for.
