“Flying is Optional. Landing is Mandatory.
Training is what lets you talk about your landings.”

Training for long-distance high-altitude gliding is both dangerous and demanding. Very few trainees in the Reserve are able to handle all that goes into making somepony bear the quiet icy-cold air so high above the clouds. It’s hard to explain how it feels to have your wings go numb and have to trust your muscle memory to keep you in the air.

It’s like trying to trot on a leg after sleeping on it wrong.

Except you’re in the sky, FAR above the ground or even a cloud…

And if you trip….

Well…

One of the trainee mares “landed” during a training flight.

That service was the first time I had been issued a dress uniform by the Quartermare.

Part of the training was, very specifically, Launch Training - gaining as much power from our initial wing strokes to get to altitude and conserve our strength for the glide time. Joining the class the first time was a little intimidating for me, watching these trainees concentrate on the night sky and kick up a dust cloud while their wingtips made little scratches in the grass. They were athletes in my eyes. Coiled powerhouses under a body that gave no clue how strong they really were.

Commanders Pipestrelle and Obsidian walked me outside the administrative offices and to the grass-covered diamond-shaped training fields a good trot away. It was governed over by one of the most knowledgeable fliers in the Reserves; somepony that knew all the tricks, all the science, and the names and abilities of every trainee and officer he’d ever flown with.

He was facing away from us, as big and powerful a batpony as I’d seen. His head was angled up but not moving, obviously watching the half-dozen fliers either launching, hard bank-turning to return, or actively emergency-landing on the landing circles to the right or left. It was a figure-eight military ballet in the skies.

About half-way to the active field, I had a weird feeling crawling up my spine, like something was wrong. It took me a few seconds to realize that their hoof beats had synchronized into a formal march-trot and that I had joined in the cadence automatically… except on the wrong hoof.

One foalhood skip-pace later and we sounded like one approaching batpony.

Another piece of Reserve Training ingrained in me, I guess.

We slowed and stopped a more-than-respectful five wings away from the rear of the field trainer; a lot farther away than I would have thought we needed to be. My escorts stomped once, twice, then performed a formal salute with Obsidian speaking for us. “Captain Oberth, Sir? Commanders Obsidian and Pipestrelle reporting. We have a trainee for you.”

He didn’t turn around. Didn’t salute. Didn’t even flick an ear to acknowledge us at all. His head just kept where it was, snout pointed just above the horizon, keeping a watch over his field.

All I could do was just stand there and wait while the trainees on the field kept at it - launching for the Target Point ahead, banking hard to left or right, aiming for the Landing Point opposite their turn, landing hard, trotting back to the Launch Point, and doing it again.

It took seven circuits before one mare stumbled on landing and fell over.

I could see the Captain’s chest inflate with a breath before he called out in a voice clear as a bell and sharp as a knife, “Flight - Land! Cooldown Trot Course! Crystal Formation! Showers And Off Duty!”

I was shocked to see the air cleared of fliers before he was half-done speaking and a collective ground-level reply of, “SO ORDERED, CAPTAIN!” called out.

The team’s breathing was almost as loud as their parade-stepping hoof beats as they marched into the Crystal Formation for the cooldown run: One in the front, a box of four behind, and one at the rear. Seen from above they’d look like two triangles pointed in opposite directions, with a wing and-a-half space between them. In this formation, should an emergency come up, both front and rear triplets could launch as their own flight wing, with the points being the flight leader.

The Captain called out before they set off, “Violet. Infirmary After Cooldown. Flight Dismissed.”

The Lead Point trainee stiffened her neck a little and answered loudly, “So Ordered, Captain! Flight, TROT!” And off they trotted, headed around the field.

“Trainee. What’s Your Name.”

I have never understood how anypony could ask a question and make it a command instead, but the Captain did. “Icarus, sir.”

Obsidian followed immediately with, “he’s not an official Guardspony, Sir.”

The Captain’s head cocked slightly to the right with an ear flick. The next sounds I heard were slower, deeper, like an avalanche about to let loose. “Commander… Explain To Me Why You Brought A Non-Guard To My Training Field.”

“So Ordered, Captain” both my escorts answered back, just like the team had before.

Come to think about it, they made great time to the outer perimeter of the field. Strong legs and wings. Must have been practicing for a long time. Be really nice to be with them right about now.

“Icarus, take the Launch Point facing the Far Target Point.” Obsidian’s voice was a shock to me. So far I hadn’t heard her formal command voice, but there it was.

I nodded and lifted a hoof. “So ordered, Comma--”

“You’re Not A Guardspony. You Don’t Answer Like That. Take The Point.”

The Captain’s voice never changed in volume the whole time, but there was a quality that made me realize he was expecting to have his time wasted and was not happy about it. Without saying anything more I walked around his left flank, keeping the ground mark center in my vision. I centered, flank pointed right at the Captain and Commanders, snout aimed for the opposite marker and took a long breath.

Behind and to my left I heard Obsidian’s voice the way she normally spoke to me; conversational and calm. “Just like that first night. Find your center, find your target. Feel your cutiemark power and launch as hard as you feel you can safely.”

I nodded slowly, taking a few long breaths, closed my eyes, dipped my chest down and reached out. I could feel the breeze, hear the trees far away enough to be safe, the breaths of the three guardsponies behind me….

And the Mare in the Moon’s hum above us all.

It’s like a rustling of dew-covered grass being stroked by a hoof walking through it. Like a disturbed covering of thin snow on the ground. It’s both something I could notice with a beauty all its own, and a disturbed point in an otherwise smooth environment.

My head tilted up a little, eyes opened, focused on Luna through the tears that swept down my face. My wings locked into place out and up to my ears, my rear right hoof pressed a stone into the dirt to smooth out its placement.

My throat tightened, my screech erupted, my wingtips missed the ground as my body streaked nearly straight up, leaving a magical blue-purple trail behind.

My cheeks were dry before my first wing beat finished. My screech was shoved back into my throat with the wind slamming into my face.

In my mind I was an arrow, aiming for the target it was being pulled into.

The moon was my goal, Luna my focus, and the two of us were all that mattered now.

No! There was something else. Not Luna right now. Back on the ground.

They wanted me to show off my launch, not how high I could fly.

I stopped pushing into the wall of air at my snout and let my speed bleed off as I started my glide up and over the top of the arc. Banking gently and looking down I was a little surprised at just how high I was already! The ground was obscured by a haze of light below me, but I could still see the training grounds.

I mean… Kinda? It was so far down and this haze was so weird! Almost like it was fog, except glowing like it was magical with all kinds of colours in it.

My trip down took some time since I was trying to be safe by gliding a lazy oval descent pattern. Eventually I made it to the level the other trainees had reached, took a left-hoof turn and landed at the Target Point I was aimed at to start.

I turned and saw they were all talking, the Commanders no longer saluting. As I trotted over they turned to me, the Captain being the only one to speak. “How Do You Feel And What Did You See.”

I wasn’t intimidated anymore. I wasn’t in awe of him. I was so thrilled with what I’d just experienced! “Thank you, Captain. It was beautiful up there! I think I’m OK, but when I looked down at the field I saw a rainbow glow. Maybe I saw a layer of magic over the field? I flew through it as I was coming back down-”

“Cirrus Cloud Layer Reflecting And Refracting Luna’s Moonshine” the Captain interrupted.

“Sir,” Obsidian spoke up. “He’s here so we can give him proper flight training that the PCMS can’t, on a part-time basis; any available weekends he has.”

Captain Oberth looked at the Commander with scorn, posing a sneearing question, “Part. Time. Commander.”

She held her head up formally. “Yes, Captain.”

The Captain turned and stepped to the Launch Point, stooping down to look closer at the ground. I only got as much as a breath in to ask what was going on before Pipestrelle’s wingtip smacked my tail just hard enough to get my attention. I flinched, looked over to her and she gave me a shake of the head, indicating not to say anything.

“Icarus. Stand In Front Of Me.”

I saw both my escorts look at each other and hold an instant, silent conversation with their eyes that would have taken minutes with their voices to explain it to anyone else. They looked at me, nodded, and looked back at the Captain as I stepped around.

“Describe The Launch Point. Use As Much Detail As You Think I Want.”

….ho, kay….

“Well, it’s an oblong, round painting in the grass, about one-wing long and half a wing wide, pointed at the Target Point behind me. There’s four patches inside the marking where my hooves fit into and some scratches outside and into the ring with a few worms crawling out of them. I see you and the Commanders ahead of me and I smell the fresh dirt between us from the scratches, I think.”

“Show Us Your Wings. Tips Up. Commanders. Attend.”

His voice through all this was calm, like everything he said was the most basic of facts that shouldn’t be ignored and couldn’t be argued with. The Commanders flanked him as I extended my wings and flipped them upside down.

“Commanders. What DON’T You See.”

Obsidian and Pipestrelle leaned down a bit, looking at my wing claws and the ground for barely two breaths before they returned to a formal stance with just a slight proud smirk on their muzzles.

“He’s clean, Sir.”

“No marks, Sir.”

The Captain stood back up, looked at me, but was obviously not talking to me. “Provisional Flight Training Is Granted For Trainee Icarus.”

Obsidian blinked hard enough for me to hear it. “Captain? He’s no--”

The Captain turned his head a quarter to his left, putting his profile in Obsidian’s sight. As if that wasn’t intimidating enough his voice slowed to a crawl, thrumbling out of his throat, coiled like a mantacore’s tail ready to rip someone apart.

“I. Said. ‘Trainee’. ’Icarus’. Are. Your. Ears. Working. COM-MAN-DER.”

Obsidian answered with her face blanching, “SO ORDERED, SIR!” A bead of fear sweat fell off her ear and her eyes were wide with pin-prick sized pupils.

She was terrified! They BOTH were

I was too surprised to be.

“‘Provisional’ Status Means You’re Here To Prove You’re Worth Our Time To Train You. If You Don’t Show You’re Taking These Duties Seriously-”

“I will, Captain!”

The Commanders’ eyes nearly bugged out of their heads at my outburst! Mine almost joined them! I didn’t just do that, did I?

Oh, Sweet Merciful Majesty, I did!

As slowly as he’d turned to face his left before, he turned back and glowered down at me, an eyebrow raised. I could read everything in his face. I felt as if any words he might say would be an abomination crawling its way out of his mouth intent to slit my throat open and kill me where I stood. I’d be the shortest-termed trainee ever.

“That’s. Your. One.” With that the Captain turned right to exit the field, walking off to the administration building in the distance.

“See Q For A Flight Suit. Then Get Me A Trainee Schedule.” Even facing away his voice was as clear as if he was right in front of us again.

The Commanders replied in one voice, “SO ORDERED, CAPTAIN!”

Captain Oberth, a walking wall of insurmountable power, barely a dozen steps away, stopped dead in his tracks. His head raised as his ears swiveled back, listening. Waiting. Annoyed at having to waste his time waiting.

The Commanders quickly looked at me and nodded, almost frantically.

--oh!

“As… ordered, Captain?”

Obsidian Scrunched up her face HARD. Pippistrelle literally face-hoofed.

With a derisive (*SNORT*) Captain Oberth set off again.

Author's Note

Yes, this chapter has taken a bit longer to write than I would have liked, but I've been getting some good info that will help my understanding of how the Royal Guards work....

--and how to get where we're going.