Trial by Fire

by RangerOfRhudaur

Rating: teen
Tags: King Sombra, Violence, Princess Celestia, Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Rainbow Dash, Drama
Length: 4948

Rainbow Dash discovers the meaning of her Cutie Mark.

The fallacy of Mark Solitarism, the idea that Cutie Marks have single, literal interpretations, has been disproven multiple times, either by individuals with multiple-talent Marks (i.e.; Spitfire's Cutie Mark signifying her talent at flying and at directing her fiery passion) or by individuals with abstract Marks (i.e.; Sunburst's Cutie Mark signifying his talent for 'shedding light' on questions of magical theory). This has led some to propose not only that Cutie Marks can have multiple meanings, but that some of those meanings may wax or wane in prominence over the years, allowing a pony to seem to change talents over time as their capabilities or interests change.

Rainbow Dash is about to prove them right.

Entry in the My Little Pony Renaissance Contest.

Published 2021-07-09 23:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-07-09 23:50:01 UTC

Crucible

She'd been the only smiling face when the train came to pick up the recruits.

She'd barely cared that Sombra's initial assault had managed to take almost a third of Equestria's north, or that the mandatory conscription she was undergoing was something that hadn't been seen for thousands of years. She barely noticed the refugees fleeing south or the crying faces that came to bid their loved ones good-bye.

No, what she cared about was the feeling in her heart, something she'd felt once before, that fateful day in Cloudsdale; greatness was calling her, she knew it. Oh, she wanted to see Sombra fall as much as anypony else, and she didn't like the idea of almost everypony having to fight, but the real reason she'd answered the princess' call was because greatness had added its voice to her's, telling her that glory awaited her on the battlefield.

This is it, she thought with a deep inhale as the train screeched to a stop. This is my time to be awesome.

Come on, come on, come on! she thought to herself, straining to go faster. Just a little bit more, I'm almost-

Then the all-too familiar hiss of the magic blast, knocking her out of the air. Desperately, she tried to pull up, but though she managed to pull out of her spiral, she lost the race. Worse, she'd lost her chance at greatness; the feeling she'd had right before she got hit, the feeling that she was on the threshold of doing something awesome, had disappeared, as if greatness had turned away from her in disappointment.

She sighed as she woke up from her nap, the train chugging to a halt in Canterlot. Even now, years later, that event still haunted her, even though she doubted anypony else even remembered it had happened. It felt like she'd lost more than just a race that day, though she couldn't tell what; she'd come out of flight camp just fine, even made it through flight school near the top of her class, while those stupid bullies had faded away into mediocrity. Fluttershy had turned out okay, too, though she'd never really gotten the hang of flight like she had. She could fly okay, and she was a miracle-worker with clouds, but she wasn't as fast as Rainbow was. But still, turned out okay.

But there was still that feeling of something missing, something lost, that she'd carried ever since that day. She spent almost all her free time practicing flight, especially her speed, in hopes that she'd be able to find something that could fill that hole in her heart, something that could heal the scar that race had left. She hadn't, but now she had another place to look; up north.

Greatness was calling her again, and she wouldn't let it pass her by.

"Why are you here, Rainbow Dash?" Captain Spitfire asked her, hooves clasped together in front of her face.

Rainbow fidgeted, then shakily answered, "To serve the princess and the kingdom, ma'am."

"Liar," Spitfire snorted. "Real reason, tell me."

Rainbow sighed, then said, "Glory, ma'am."

The edges of Spitfire's mouth curled up, reaching just over her hooves. Then, in an almost musical voice, she said, "Liar."

"Huh?" Rainbow shook her head in confusion. "Ma'am, with all due respect, that is why I signed up. I know it's selfish, but-"

"And a lie," Spitfire cut her off. "Glory-hounds don't say that what they're doing is selfish. Trust me, I know. I also know that glory-hounds don't go in the middle of the line, like you did, or defend potential rivals, again, like you did with Lightning Dust."

Rainbow winced. "With all due respect, ma'am," she stammered. "Cherry started it."

"Nobody cares who started a fight, cadet," Spitfire replied. "Only who ends it, and judging by the fact that Cadet Cherry's in the infirmary and you're not, it looks like you were the one to end this."

"She was calling her a Crescent-heart, ma'am," Rainbow protested. "I couldn't just stand by and let her question Lightning Dust's loyalty like that. Nightmare Moon's gone, we're all Equestrians again. Calling her things like that was wrong."

"Calling somepony names is one thing," Spitfire said. "Decking them with a tray's another. Besides," she shrugged. "a little mess-room talk's to be expected. Trash-talking your comrades has been around as long as armies have been, cadet, and it hasn't killed anypony yet."

The grimace Rainbow'd worn after being reminded of what she'd done to Cherry vanished after Spitfire shrugged, instead being replaced with a righteous scowl. "Trash-talking's one thing," she replied. "trying to hurt somepony with your voice instead of your hooves is another. I know what trash-talking is, ma'am, and I know when it goes too far, and Cherry crossed that line repeatedly with Lightning Dust. We already have one enemy up north," she gestured with her wing. "We don't need another one in the middle of camp."

"Who are you to decide when trash-talking goes too far?" Spitfire asked, raising a brow.

"A pony with common sense," Rainbow replied, taking flight in aggravation. "A pony who knows that trash-talking's supposed to be used to-to help competition, not-not hurt the competitor. Good trash-talk stays on the course, it doesn't chase the victim like Cherry's words would have. I'm not stupid, ma'am, I know I'm not the law. But when I know that something's wrong and somepony needs to stop it," she clapped the front of her barrel. "I won't just stand by and watch."

Spitfire's brow almost flew up after Rainbow. Its wielder stayed silent for several moments, staring impassively into her burning orbs. Then, in a quiet voice, she asked, "Why are you here, Rainbow Dash?"

"I told you," she angrily replied. "glory. I can feel it up north, calling me. I've only ever felt it once before, and I'm not letting it pass me by this time."

"When did you feel it before?" Spitfire asked.

"Okay, it was when I was a filly," Rainbow grumbled. "Still, I can feel it. It's like I'm a compass," she stretched out her right leg, pointing it north. "and glory's my north. I can't just let it get away from me again, ma'am. I can't." Finally losing steam, she sank back to the ground.

Spitfire stared at her for several seconds, her gaze somehow both piercing and unreadable. Once she was done judging her, she crossed her hooves and asked, "Why?"

"Ma'am?" Rainbow blinked in confusion.

"Why can't you let it get away from you again, cadet?" Spitfire asked. "Other chances at glory will come; what makes this one so special?"

"I don't know," Rainbow admitted. "I just..." She sighed, then said, "When I was a filly, ma'am, I took part in a race. I went as fast as I could, and I-I felt something, the same thing I'm feeling now, like I was close to doing something awesome, something that would make ponies' jaws drop. But then a stupid random unicorn hit me, and that feeling left. Losing it hurt; it felt like I lost something, something important, something that I'd never gotten the chance to know. It made me feel... incomplete, I guess, inferior. I don't know why, I don't know 'why' or 'how' for any of this, all I know is that, if I lose this-this feeling, this sense, again, I'll always regret it. It," she waved a hoof, trying to put it into words. "it feels like there's a missing part of me, and it's trying to let me know where it is. If I don't go up north and find it, whatever it is, I'll never be whole, always missing that one piece that makes the whole picture come together. That's why I signed up, ma'am; to find myself, to find what I've been missing for so long, to-to make something of myself." Her hoof dropped to the ground, the fire that had fueled her earlier steam burning low in exhaustion.

A pensive look came over Spitfire's face. She tapped her hooves together in thought. After a few moments, she picked some papers up off her desk and said, "You're on KP for two weeks, cadet. Bonking each other on the head with hard objects isn't the way we do things in Equestria. Usually I'd have to give out a demerit as well, but several other witnesses have confirmed that there were extenuating circumstances. Next time, though, please try talking things out instead of going for the direct approach; like you said, we already have one enemy, we don't need another one at home. Regarding that spiel you just gave me about why you joined, the only thing I think I can say is 'good luck.' Oh, and one other thing; searching for your destiny's great and all, but it isn't a license to be stupid. When we go up north, you are not to go off on your own, try something risky when something practical will work, or listen to any offer of Sombra's, even if you think it'll help you find... whatever it is you're looking for. Understand?"

Somewhat dazed, Rainbow nodded.

Spitfire nodded back. "Dismissed."

The worst part about Sombra's minions was that they didn't talk. No battlecries, no pleas for mercy, no screams of rage, no sounds of pain, only the clanking of their armor and hooves on the ground. It was like they were empty suits of armor, golems instead of ponies.

Rainbow snarled as those suits prepared to charge their shield wall again, those stupid helmets boring into her with their soulless emerald eyes. There would be no stop to the tide: the princess had ordered them not to kill, the Crystal Ponies were victims as much as they were, and for all they knew under those helmets could be some of the poor souls Sombra managed to capture in his first assault. They would be fighting with one hoof tied behind their back.

And then she was fighting, Sombra's minions crashing into the line for the fifth time, forcing it back in some places but not breaking it. Every Equestrian who fell was immediately pulled back by a comrade (not only to save their lives, but to deny Sombra the opportunity for more slaves) while a third took their place, the Guard's iron discipline showing its steel against the King of Shadows. A ghoulish mask came into Rainbow's vision, and a quick smack of her staff sent it away.

The feeling of glory fluttered in her heart, rising and gleaming with every thrall sent reeling, every charge broken. Every cry was a note in a burning song in her chest, every strike the beat of some great drum. Instead of terror, she felt bravery, boldness, fire, the strength to resist; Sombra's minions' masks heartened her, now, instead of terrifying her. The battlecry of "Sun's light! Flee night!" rang out, swelling through the host, and it took her a moment to realize the lips that spoke it first and loudest were her own.

Then the King of Shadows himself appeared, and all song fell silent, and all hope died. Rainbow could barely look him in his horrible eyes, wreathed with terror, and yet she couldn't bring herself to look away. Lightning danced around his cruel iron crown, dark magic seeped from his hateful eyes, and his horn glowed blood-red as it hefted his warhammer. Even his own troops fell back in fear, bowing and scraping out of the way of their dread master.

His warhammer crashed through their lines, sending them flying like they were toys, and Rainbow looked up at a broken sky, covered in dark clouds. The feeling of glory in her heart was almost gone, now, guttering out like a candle in Sombra's gloom. Now, she understood why Sombra's slaves didn't rebel, didn't even try to resist; his mere presence killed hope, strangled joy, smothered bravery. His darkness was too deep for any light to dispel, certainly too deep for the puny light of love. Just knowing that he was nearby was enough to turn Rainbow's legs to jelly. How could she hope to fight something like that? She might as well fight the sky or the earth or Death. She whimpered and covered her eyes with her forelegs, the fire in her heart sputtering.

Before it caught a tailwind, the tailwind of Spitfire's battlecry. "Up Equestrians!" she shouted as she charged Sombra, ceremonial sword glinting in the dimness. "Fear no darkness!"

Rainbow could only watch, mesmerized, as her captain fought, dancing around Sombra's strikes like they were clouds. Faint fire trailed her as she flew, too weak to burn, almost too weak even to glow, but strong enough. And every ring of fire she wove, every crushing blow of Sombra's she dodged, breathed new life into the fire in Rainbow's heart, sent the feeling of glory soaring on renewed wings. She stumbled over to where her staff had fallen and picked it back up, along with Spitfire's cry, and charged in to help her.

But then hope died again, as Sombra caught Spitfire with a feint, sending his hammer crashing into her back. She fell to the ground at his hooves, one of which took off its horseshoe and brushed against her face.

Her scream pierced the battlefield, pierced every heart that could hear it, even Sombra's soldiers quivering in horror. Rainbow could only watch, stricken, as Sombra's hoof seared into Spitfire's cheek, blackening the fur and flesh in moments. His infectious touch spread, scorching her like a flame, consuming her like tinder. Spitfire tried to smack his hoof away, but her feeble blows did nothing to move his iron hoof, only caused faint tendrils of smoke to curl off her own. She weakly thrashed, trying to escape, but to no avail.

But as she moved, her eyes fell on Rainbow, who gasped; Spitfire's eyes were glazed with pain, but the look behind that glaze was one she knew, the same look Fluttershy had had on her face before that fateful race. She was pleading, pleading for something, somepony, to come save her, rescue her, deliver her. She was pleading for help. For a hero.

And there, on that forsaken battlefield, far from hope or life, Rainbow realized what she was looking for, what she'd joined the Guard for. Spitfire was right, she wasn't really in search of glory; what she wanted, what she'd wanted back when she was a filly, was to be a hero, to be the one to deliver ponies from their fears, to save. What she thought was a sense of glory was really a sense of where she could do something to earn that glory, where she could be the hero, the one everypony looked up to and at for help.

"When I know that something's wrong and somepony needs to stop it," she rasped in remembrance. "I won't just stand by and watch."

Spitfire's screams had deteriorated into pitiful whimpering, almost her entire face turned black and withered by Sombra's cursed touch. The King of Shadows sneered down at her, and leaned down to whisper poisonous words in her ear-

-but found himself tackled by Rainbow Dash, screaming across the ground like an arrow. She dove into his side, knocking him over, then bent down and picked up Spitfire's fallen sword. As the Dreadlord began rising from the ground with a hiss, horn glowing in preparation of some evil, she raced over to him and, before he could move any further, slashed at his cursed hoof, the one that had wounded her captain.

Spitfire's scream was nothing compared to Sombra's bellow of rage as the sword slashed his sorcerous flesh, slicing the cruel hoof away from him, sending it spiraling away in a shower of dust, separated from the dark power which knit it together.

But Rainbow herself gave a cry as well, as her borrowed blade burst in a shower of sparks, blinding her. She stumbled back, rubbing the shards out of her eyes, and barely managed to recover in time to dodge Sombra's hammer. The King of Shadows hissed in anger at her, horn aglow as he stumbled his wounded leg back into its iron shoe, not noticing or caring as his previous opponent was dragged away by her comrades. All his rage was focused on Rainbow Dash, now.

She flared out her wings in a taunt. "Come and get me, then," she growled.

Like Spitfire had shortly before, she danced with him, her previous terror crowded out by anger, rage, rage at the monster who threatened her homeland. She'd come north thinking her personal mission and her duty as a Guard opposed, but now she knew they were united, and with singleness of purpose she fought, striking at the Dreadlord with her hooves whenever she could. "Up Equestrians!" she shouted as she dove. "Fear no darkness! Sun's light! Flee night!"

Sadly, like Spitfire had, she too failed to dodge a blow from the king, and spiraled down to the ground in a daze. Her eyes rolled in her head, managing to come together again just in time to see the king's hoof descend on her wing.

Agony throbbed through her body, every part of her screaming in pain at the king's touch. His unnatural flesh burned away her's wherever they touched, her wing graying and withering into dust in his evil grasp. But somehow, through some force of will, she prevented herself from screaming out loud, though she had to bite her tongue hard enough to fill her mouth with iron.

"You will die here," the king's whispery, echoey voice hissed. "Unknown, unloved, forsaken by your so-called comrades. Your actions have only delayed the inevitable."

"The," she gasped through the pain and blood in her mouth. "inevitable? You mean the part where the princess takes you down?"

Before he could reply, she cleared her mouth, spitting blood in his face. It merely sizzled away, but it blinded him for a moment, and that was enough. Inwardly thanking Fluttershy for her recommendation of self-defense classes, she grabbed the king's armor with her fore hooves, then used her rear ones and hips to thrust him off of her, using her grip on his armor to guide him over her head. Seeing the look of shock on his face made all the pain she'd endured worth it.

Shakily, the residue of his evil touch still sending pain lancing through her, she rolled back to her hooves, and took up a defensive stance. Dust from her decaying wing flew in her face, but she paid it no attention; her eyes were on Sombra.

"You," he spat as he struggled back upright. "dare? You dare to touch your king?"

"There's nothing I won't dare," she replied, her voice somehow even despite the pain. "for Equestria."

The king hissed and lowered his head, horn glowing as he charged up a spell, but then he, and the rest of the battle, froze; a wind blew from the south, and on that wind came horns. Horns of Canterlot. Rainbow turned south, and gaped in awe at the sight of the princess, charging north like a shooting star.

Sombra hissed, then glared balefully at Rainbow. "This is not over," he snarled. "You've only delayed the inevitable."

"I know," she smirked in reply, the princess' presence renewing her heart. "If I'd kept you busy for a bit longer, maybe you wouldn't have been able to run away before Celestia got here."

Sombra snarled impotently one last time, then turned around and fled, taking refuge in the center of his army. At his command, they retreated north, making sure to keep a strong rearguard to prevent pursuit.

A cheer went up as the Guard saw his hideous banners begin to withdraw, a joyful cry of victory. Rainbow simply smiled, standing still as she watched him flee. She blinked as she felt a wing wrap across her, and turned to see the princess looking down at her sadly.

"Your majes-" Rainbow tried to salute, then remembered what had happened to that wing. Frowning, she managed to coax the other one into position and said, "Your majesty."

"At ease, soldier," her musical voice murmured. "It is not you who should be saluting I today. I saw the end of your duel with Sombra; few would have been able to stand against him as you did, especially," she looked sadly at Rainbow's missing wing. "after enduring the injuries you have."

"Spitfire," Rainbow blurted out, remembering her captain. "Is Spitfire okay? Did I rescue her in time?"

Celestia bowed her head, giving her all the confirmation she needed. "Sombra's touch spread too far," she said. "She passed as I arrived."

Rainbow sobbed, then scowled. "At least he won't be hurting anypony else with that hoof," she grumbled, turning to look at the splinters of Spitfire's sword.

Celestia's eyes widened. "You wounded him?" she asked in whispered awe.

Rainbow smirked. "Let's just say," she replied. "he's gonna have to ask somepony for a hoof when he gets back home."

Celestia's jaw dropped. Then, taking a step back, she bowed, almost to the ground. "Few have ever struck a blow such as that, my little pony. You will have earned Sombra's hatred for your deed, and my love. Not for the wound itself, but for the fear and caution you will have stricken him with; it will be some time before he shows his face on the battlefield again, I hope. Thank you, my little pony."

"No problem," she smiled back. "I was happy to help."

"Your help is much appreciated," Celestia assured her. "If you wish, I can write you an honorable discharge and-"

"Two things, your majesty," Rainbow interrupted, her adrenaline running thin. "One, I'm not going anywhere, not until Sombra's stopped. Someone needs to stop him, and if something's wrong," she tapped herself on the front of the barrel, sending waves of faint pain through her body. "then I won't just stand by and watch. And two, could you see about finding a medic? I'm really starting to feel what Sombra did to me, and for something that's not there anymore, my wing's really hurting. Oh, okay, yeah, medic would be nice, and can you catch me? I think I'm about to-"

She came to in the infirmary, a small earth mare tending her wounds. The pain had thankfully faded, and she could sit up with barely a twinge in her side. "Hey," she asked her tender. "What day is it?"

The mare squeaked, then shuffled a few steps away, quickly returning with a calendar. Rainbow's eyes swam through the sea of uncrossed days, eventually surfacing two days after (she thought, at least) the day she'd fought Sombra.

"I've been out for two days?" she whispered. "Guess he really did do a number on me."

Her caretaker nodded, then grabbed a clipboard by the bed. She gave it to her, and Rainbow accepted it with shaking hooves. It was her caretaker's observation of her, and it made for grim reading; aside from the almost-inevitable cuts and bruises, there were three broken ribs from where Sombra's hammer hit her, and there'd been a nasty magical infection around the spot where her left wing had been. If it hadn't been for her caretaker, one Marble Pie, she might have died, Sombra poisoning her as he'd poisoned Spitfire.

She grit her teeth as she passed the clipboard back. "Thanks, Marble," she grunted. "How soon can you get me back and up in the- Oh, right," she frowned at her missing wing. "Well, how soon can you get me--huh?" She looked confusedly at Marble, who was stroking her hair while nodding her head from side to side. "Why're you looking like I just caught you with your hoof in the cookie jar?"

Marble stared blankly back at her, then shook her head. She pointed a hoof at herself, then at her, then stretched out on her chair like she was flying. Returning to her previous sitting position, she shook her head, her meaning clear; she couldn't help Rainbow fly again. But then, getting up off her chair, she pointed at the empty seat, then at Rainbow, then stretched back out on her chair and nodded.

"I," she hesitantly tried to interpret what the silent mare meant. "can fly using a chair?"

Marble shook her head, then took off her medic's hat, put it on the chair, and pointed to it before repeating her last message again.

"I," she raised a brow in confusion. "can fly using a hat?"

Marble shook her head again, more vigorously this time, then scurried away to grab a spare medic hat, which she placed on the chair before repeating the message once again.

Rainbow tapped her chin in thought, trying to decipher what she meant. Before she could offer her guess, though, another voice grunted, "What my sister's trying to say is that she can't help you fly again, but she knows somepony who can."

"Really?" Rainbow blinked, before turning back to Marble. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Marble rolled her eyes, pointed at her throat, and shook her head.

"She tried to tell you," the newcomer said, approaching Rainbow's bed. "Not her fault you're bad at NVC."

"NVC?" Rainbow raised a brow. "What's that?"

"Non-verbal communication," the newcomer replied. "something everypony should really learn, not just us Pies. If you can't talk with your mouth, what are you gonna do? Play charades, something you seem really bad at?"

"Hey!" Rainbow protested.

"But I'm getting distracted," the rosy newcomer shook her head. "I'm here to help get you back in the air, not talk about charades."

"Really?" Rainbow blinked in confusion. "How? And who are you, anyway?"

"My name's Pinkameena Diane Pie," the newcomer smiled back. "rock farmer, soldier, and, answering how I plan to help you get back in the air, inventor. You want to fly again, Rainbow Dash? How do you feel about doing it using an experimental artificial wing?"

"Experimental?" Rainbow asked. "How experimental?"

"Untested experimental," Pinkameena replied. "Don't worry, though; I think I solved the backdraft problem, so you've got a chance of not dying. A small chance, but still a chance."

Rainbow swallowed, then turned north. The sense of greatness, of heroism, that had drawn her here still lingered in her heart. It didn't burn like it had in battle, but it still lurked there, like an imaginary coach watching her form. Things are still wrong up here, it told her, Sombra's still out there, and he'll be back. She looked down at the bandages along her side, covering the spot where her left wing had once rested. Had once lived, like Spitfire.

"Something's wrong," she murmured to herself. "and I'm not just gonna stand by and watch." Turning back to Pinkameena, she said, "Sign me up."

The King of Shadows returned to the field, eventually, as Celestia had predicted. He stopped the slow Equestrian advance, and turned it back in some parts, the gloom covering the Crystal Empire spreading back over lands just recently freed from it. He forced them to pay dearly for every hoof of ground, either taken or merely held.

And yet, he wasn't as terrifying as he had been that day, when the mere sight of him had been enough to break the Equestrian lines. He walked with a limp now, not even his dark powers able to regenerate his lost hoof, and he carried himself more cautiously, preferring to fight from afar, either with his crystal magic or through his slaves. His edge had been dulled that day, in his duels with Spitfire and Rainbow Dash, and everypony knew it. His necrotic touch went from reasonable fear to veteran's tale. Even his slaves seemed less stricken with sheer terror at the sight of him, as if they could tell that something was off about their master.

And he did not stand unopposed; the princess took the field, though she still tried to restrain her power to spare her ponies. Her presence, though mainly confined to the commander's table, was a source of power to her soldiers, even more than Sombra was a source of fear to his.

And one of her soldiers, one of her captains, also stood firmly against the Dreadlord, his mortal enemy. The ranks whispered about her in awe; Hoofsbane they called her, Sombrastriker, Ironwing. But most of all, they remembered her name, a name which went up through their host like a cheer whenever they saw her; Captain Miss Rainbow Dash, Wonderbolt, Knight of Equestria, bane of the King of Shadows, hero.

She never flew as fast as she used to, even with Pinkameena's constant improvements to her wing: it was a prosthetic, not an enhancement. And yet, she felt satisfied, fulfilled, the contentment of those following their Cutie Mark. Some might have been confused at this, wondering how a Mark of speed could be followed by going slower, but she wasn't; she understood why she liked going so fast, now. She didn't simply go fast for speed's sake; she did it to entertain, to awe, to inspire. She acted as she did to give other ponies a model, somepony they could look up to, possibly even surpass. Lightning was fast, yes, but also bright, lighting up the area around it with a glow as bright as the Sun. Her inspiring displays of skill shone as bright as the Sun, while her speed allowed her to chase the night away as fast as lightning.

Or, as she put it on the day she became Hoofsbane, "Sun's light! Flee night!"