Daydream at 20,000 Hooves

by UnknownError

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Celestia, Kirins, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Comedy
Length: 6198

With Princess Twilight ascending the throne, the first commercial planes present new opportunities. For some more than others.

It has been a peaceful few years under the reign of Princess Twilight Sparkle. Ponies are happy. Equestria is progressing. New technologies have appeared, including the first fixed-wing planes. The first intercontinental flights now soar across Equestria, allowing long-distance friends and family to meet up for the first time without an arduous journey or fancy magic.

Earth Ponies are not meant to fly. Rind Watermelon knows this—and it terrifies him—but he will go with his fiancée Smoldering Ember to meet her family in Kiria, realm of the Kirins. It is only a twenty-hour flight away. He just has to look out the window, and ignore that he is in a metal tube hurtling through the sky on flimsy wings.

And there is something on the wing.

Published 2023-04-08 06:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-04-08 06:00:00 UTC

The Scary Door: Season Five, Episode Three

The metal tube groaned as it came apart. Rivets shrieked as they were rent asunder. The rumbling shook his very bones. Rind Watermelon whimpered, hooves gripped against the armrests and seatbelt straining his barrel. He could feel the metal beast come apart around him as the entire world shook.

“Rind,” a voice called out. A soothing dulcet tone that made his heart flutter. The earth pony dearly wished his beloved was here with him, but the grinding of metal made him realized he was doomed.

“Rind,” the voice repeated.

Rind Watermelon gripped the armrests tighter. One was warm and soft and fuzzy. It comforted him.

“Rind, you are about to break my hoof,” the voice said, pained.

The earth pony finally opened his bloodshot strawberry eyes and looked to his fiancée seated beside him. The Kirin smiled gently with her short fangs. Her dancing red eyes gestured down to the armrest between them.

Rind followed Smoldering Ember’s eyes to his hoof. It was grinding hers into the armrest hard enough that her charcoal-black fur was beginning to turn white. He wrenched it away and held it to himself.

“Sorry,” he choked out. The metal tube rattled again and he bit his lip to suppress a whimper.

“It’s okay,” Smoldering Ember said placidly. She surreptitiously rubbed her hoof. “It’s just the takeoff, Rind. It’s normal.”

The plane rattled as it gained speed on the runway. Rind’s ears pinned back at the roar of the turbine on the wing just outside his window. His eyes glanced to the emergency exit lever. He wanted a window seat; he wanted to see the sky, and the flight crew wanted an earth pony on the emergency exit row to pull the lever if anything went wrong.

That should have been a sign, Rind thought. The ground sped past him, moving too fast, faster than any train he had ever been on. Abruptly, the ground disappeared and his stomach lurched back. The plane’s rumble turned into a roar, even as the jittering about the metal coffin faded.

Rind could hear his earth pony brain, the part that wanted a connection to the ground at all times, scream. It was not a very stallion-like scream. But it was usually right and he tended to trust it.

This is death this is death you are going to die in the sky and this metal tube will be your coffin—

“Breathe,” Smoldering reminded him.

Rind inhaled. He tasted stale cabin air, and resisted nibbling on a hoof. Somewhere in the aisles ahead, a foal began to cry. He wanted very badly to cry with it. “How do you fly every year?” Rind asked, choking out the words. All he wanted was a distraction.

“Honestly?” Smoldering huffed. “The flight back is always easier. I don’t get detained and almost miss my flight.”

And suddenly, all of Rind’s fear at the flying coffin was replaced by indignant rage at the experience of international travel with the Equestrian Transit Authority, the ETA. He breathed out in a snort and folded his hooves. “That was absurd,” he spat. “Those hornheads don’t know the first thing about Kirin.”

Smoldering tapped her red horn with a cloven hoof. She gave Rind a side-eye.

“Your horn,” Rind declared imperiously, “is lovely and matches your eyes. I’ve always loved how it curls back slightly and parts your mane.”

“Flatterer,” Smoldering rolled her eyes.

“Your horn is also clearly not connected to your brain and sucking out all your intelligence,” Rind continued. “Unlike those ETA agents. The nerve of them! A psychiatric evaluation? A blood pressure test? A sock puppet show?”

“It’s recycled air,” Smoldering said. She waved a hoof at the probably nonfunctional little vents above their two-chair aisle. “I doubt they want a Nirik on board.”

“It’s still wrong,” Rind insisted. “Dragons don’t go through the same stuff. Or unicorns, and they have magic!”

“Most dragons can’t fit in a plane,” Smoldering deadpanned.

“But that still leaves unicorns,” Rind replied. He wiggled in his seat. “And why do we even sit like this?” The earth pony and Kirin sat with their hind legs dangling under a vertical seat, flanks against a cushion but back straight. It left their hind legs free, but there was a dull pressure in the base of Rind’s spine, near his green tail.

“It’s a safety thing,” Smoldering claimed. She pointed a hoof at the brochure tucked into the back of the chair in front of her. Princess Twilight Sparkle’s muzzle peered out of the pocket, with words above it:

Everything You Need to Know About Flying! (Abridged: #1 of #19)

The little pocket bulged perilously, and neither stallion nor mare wanted to try and pull one free, lest a deluge of informational pamphlets streamed forth and destabilized the plane with sheer knowledge.

“It’s not a safety thing,” Rind answered. “It’s so they can fit more ponies in a plane.”

“Sweetie,” Smoldering said, “that isn’t—” The Kirin cut herself off and lifted her horn. She looked around the plane, eyeing the narrow aisles in the cramped tube. “Actually,” she amended, “you’re probably right.”

“Thank you,” Rind huffed. After a moment, he deflated in the seat. “Thank you,” he repeated more sincerely, recognizing that Smoldering was trying to take his mind off the flight. “I’m sorry I’m such a coward.”

This time, the Kirin took his hoof and squeezed it. “Oh,” Smoldering said with a grin. “I knew my brave stallion could make it. Mom and Dad will love you. Don’t worry about that. You’ll love Kiria.”

Rind always knew that he would need to visit Smoldering’s parents ahead of the wedding. He had planned on taking a cruise or ship, but the cost was too expensive. His family might have had their profitable watermelon farm, but it wasn’t enough to justify a round-trip for several days.

And Smoldering was a geologist. They had met when her team traveled to the south of Equestria, near Rind’s home, to study the effects of volcanic ash drifting from the Dragon Lands over the centuries. Apparently, the fertile soil that the Watermelons had planted their crops in for three centuries was due to that.

Rind Watermelon never thought himself particularly exotic or brave, but the charcoal, red-horned Kirin took his breath away when he first saw her. She was beautiful, and he fell in love instantly. They had a long summer together, then another, then letters, then phones when those came out…but it was always Smoldering that traveled to Equestria, even if Rind paid for several tickets.

The earth pony’s strawberry eyes lingered on the engagement ring on Smoldering’s horn. It was a beautiful ruby nearly the color of her eyes. It had been expensive, double the price of any boat trip. But it was worth it.

And that meant he had to fly on a plane to see her family. Said plane rocked slightly as something happened. He inhaled with a gasp, then remembered the ring and grit his teeth. He forced his earth pony brain to shut up.

“This is your captain,” a voice said from a scratchy speaker, “we’ve reached cruising altitude. Please wait for the light before moving about the cabin.” The tiny flashing seatbelt above their aisle dinged. Rind pulled the metal tongue attached to the belt constricting his barrel with a hoof, and sagged in the chair at the freedom. He brushed his green mane out of his eyes.

The plane rocked again and he quickly buckled himself back up.

Smoldering’s horn smoked as she unbuckled herself with a quick flash. She leaned down with her hooves and pawed through the saddlebags stuffed under her chair. “Do you want your book?” she mumbled.

“I’ll just look out the window,” Rind answered. “I-I wanted the seat to look out the window.”

“Mind the lever,” Smoldering chuckled, “lest you rip it off with your brutish earth pony strength.”

“My brutish stallion strength,” Rind corrected with a slight smile. Smoldering’s horn bobbed as she laughed. Rind Watermelon adored that laugh, high and airy with a hint of something deeper.

The earth pony did, however, adjust his hooves so they would not brush against the emergency exit lever next to his chair. He could see the bolts in the side of the metal, where the window would blow out. It frightened him terribly at first, but Smoldering had reached over and given the lever a tug long before take-off with one of her off-color jokes.

“I might as well give them something to profile Kirin for,” she had jested. Her hoof failed to even bring it a quarter of the way over, and she leaned back in her seat with a nod. “That,” she had declared, “does need a strong earth pony.” And then she leered at him. “Thankfully, my stallion hauls watermelons.”

Rind smiled to himself. The stallion turned to the window and pulled the curtain back. Daylight streamed through the glass, and Rind marveled at the clouds below him. The sleek gray metal wing twisted in the wind, and a turbine moved partially underneath it. For a moment, his chest seized at the vibrations from the air, but he forced himself to exhale. The engine no longer roared; it hummed with a dull reverb, and Rind lost himself in staring across Equestria.

Pegasi must see this everyday. The land stretched out before him, green and blue and brown. It was beautiful. He had seen pictures like this on postcards and books, but it was different, even with a foal crying somewhere in aisles ahead of him and breathing stale air and looking through glass.

Rind Watermelon lost himself in that peace for a moment.

And then Princess Celestia landed on the wing of the plane.

The massive white alicorn, clad in gold regalia and golden horseshoes, flapped her wings as if the plane was not hurtling through the sky faster than the average pegasus. Her rainbow mane and tail blew gently in some unseen breeze, not the gale rocking the exterior. She breathed in deeply, just like Rind Watermelon, then opened her mouth and seemed to laugh.

Rind stared blankly at the alicorn. When he was a foal, she had been a Princess, but now she was supposedly just Celestia, just another citizen of Equestria. He didn’t even remember where she was supposed to be right now, if anywhere.

She’s retired, the fact slipped through Rind’s head. Celestia turned a magenta eye to the window and locked eyes with the stallion. After a moment, she smirked and waved a white wing. The feathers blew in the wind, but the alicorn seemed totally unbothered standing 20,000 hooves in the sky.

I mean, pegasi do it all the time.

“Smoldering,” Rind gasped. He whipped his head back over his shoulder. “Look!”

The Kirin set her own book down, saving the page in a cleft in her hoof. “What?” she asked calmly. She stretched her neck to see over him.

“It’s Celestia!” Rind said excitedly. He turned back to the window.

There was nothing on the wing.

“You mean…” Smoldering ventured. “The sun?”

Rind’s eyes swept across the metal, but there was no trace of the alicorn. “No,” he snorted, “Celestia! She was on the wing of the plane!”

There was a quiet shuffling behind him as the foal cried louder several aisles ahead.

“Rind,” Smoldering said patiently, “would you like your book?”

“No, I just—” Rind shook his head and cut himself off. “Yeah, sorry.”

Smoldering reached down and pulled the book out with her teeth. Rind accepted it and wiped the cover off. It had two little indents from Smoldering’s fangs, but the earth pony didn’t care. He had bought it at the airport.

Darling Do and the Thestral’s Curse. The cover was a tan unicorn, supposedly the daughter of Daring Do, facing off against a vampony with leather wings and sharp fangs. It wasn’t very long, but supposedly more mature than the previous series and would pass the time for a few hours. Rind looked at the window and empty wing one last time before he cracked it open and began to read.

It was, he admitted to himself, good. More violent than he’d prefer, but it made for entertaining reading. After a few pages, he squinted and nudged the crystal above his chair to be brighter. It flickered, but it was hard to tell if it was actually brighter now. He squinted at the page in the lack of light. Oh, the window.

Rind turned to open the curtains again.

They were open.

Celestia leaned one heavy magenta eye against the glass, staring at Rind.

Or, more accurately, his book.

Rind’s eye twitched. The eye in the window moved, reading the page line-by-line. After a pause, it looked up to the stallion. Celestia’s muzzle moved, though no sound came from the alicorn on the wing. Rind could guess what she was saying.

“Turn the page, please.”

Rind whipped back to Smoldering. The book fell from his hooves. “She’s back!” he hissed. He grabbed the Kirin’s neck and hauled her head to the side quickly. She neighed in surprise and also dropped her book to the floor.

“What the hay, Rind!?”

“Look!” Rind turned back with his fiancée in a headlock.

There was nothing in the window, nor on the wing.

He froze, lips trembling as desperate eyes swept across the daylight. “She was right there,” the stallion insisted. “Right there! She was reading my book!”

Smoldering pulled herself free and wrenched herself back into her seat. “Rind!” she hissed harshly. “There’s nothing there! Stop it!”

Rind reached under his own seat and tugged his saddlebags free. He almost brushed against the lever and reared away, accidentally smacking his head against the seat in front of him.

“Watch it!” a mare nickered.

“Sorry!” Rind apologized. He tugged the saddlebags open and pulled out a camera. It was a new model, called a ‘Polaroid’ that could develop photos instantly. He took the camera in his hooves, then grabbed Smoldering’s book with his muzzle. He offered it to her apologetically.

“I lost my place,” she groused, but accepted it. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll get a photo of her,” Rind insisted. “You’ll see. She keeps disappearing.”

“Whenever I look?” Smoldering said warily.

“You’ll see,” Rind insisted. He made sure the camera was ready, then tucked it under his elbow. He waited a long time, long enough that Smoldering lost interest and went back to her reading. Rind remained, staring out the window and waiting. He almost lost hope.

Then Celestia abruptly landed on the metal wing. It happened suddenly, as if she just dropped from above. Rind had tried to see if she was hiding somewhere, flying along, but she just seemed to appear in the open sky.

Is she teleporting? Can she do that? Rind had no idea what was happening, or if this was some changeling thing, but the changelings had been friends for years. Rind bit his tongue, resisting the urge to look away and back to Smoldering.

Celestia folded her wings in the air as the wind blew past her muzzle. Somehow, her crown remained atop her mane and her ears flicked around, despite the roar of the turbine below her and the howling wind. She stared in the direction that the plane was going.

Rind watched her with the camera tucked against his elbow. His heart beat against his ribcage. After a several minutes, she turned and looked at him again, standing placidly on the wing of a plane 20,000 hooves in the sky. Rind decided she was a hallucination.

And then she winked at him and stuck her tongue out.

Rind Watermelon lifted the camera and it flashed just as her horn flashed. He took the picture blindly, but she was standing on the center of the wing. There was no way he missed the shot. He whinnied victoriously, earning glares from the surrounding aisles. Smoldering peered up from her book.

“Rind,” she sighed.

“I got her!” Rind insisted. “I got her!” His hooves shook as the picture was spat out of the front of the camera. He flapped it eagerly, trying to get it to develop faster. “She’s out there, Smoldering! She is!”

Smoldering groaned and set her book down. Rind held the photo up joyously between the seats between them. He frowned as it finished developing.

There was a bright golden glare in the center of the photograph. It obscured everything else. It was impossible to even see the wing of the plane.

“You took a picture of the sun,” Smoldering said flatly.

“That…” Rind turned back the window. “It’s the wrong direction. No, it’s her!” He turned his strawberry eyes to his mare. “I know it’s her.” His voice dropped to a hiss. “She’s messing with me. She stuck her tongue out and winked.”

“You think the former Princess is messing with you?” Smoldering asked with a dry whicker. She rolled her eyes.

“She’s retired. She has nothing better to do.”

“There are a thousand things she could be doing.”

“She’s out there, waiting.” Rind turned his eyes to the window. “She’s always waiting.”

“Princess Celestia is not on the wing of the plane!” Smoldering groaned loudly. It was loud enough that a pegasus steward pricked her ears and reared up. She narrowed her eyes at the Kirin.

Smoldering took her head in her hooves. “Please,” she pleaded. “I hate flying Equestria Airlines anyways. Please, Rind.”

Rind closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. He turned away from the window, but did not close the curtain. After several minutes, he noticed a shadow out of the corner of his eye. He ignored it.

The supposed lunch was a daisy sandwich and a flat fizzlepop soda. Smoldering’s tray, affixed to the seat in front of her, was stuck and squeaked. The stewardess gave her an even look at the remotest twitch of the Kirin’s fangs. Rind temporarily forgot about Celestia and sat up to shout, but Smoldering’s eyes said not to, so he deflated.

He ate the sandwich quietly, muzzle crunching through bread and flowers. It was stale and tasted of cardboard. Some watermelon would have improved it, but no food or drinks were allowed on the plane.

Both of them still smuggled water in, as did basically everypony onboard. The crew seemed to ignore it. Two foals now cried in the aisles ahead of them, one close enough that any conversation was even more awkward than it already was. Rind Watermelon wanted to apologize, but that was clearly just going to upset Smoldering more. There was nothing to say.

Rind chewed his sandwich and pulled back the curtain. It had been several hours.

Celestia sat on the wing, just above the turbine.

Rind Watermelon chewed on the sandwich some more.

I’m not even surprised anymore.

Celestia sat serenely, as if she was sitting for a portrait. She seemed to know when Rind was watching her; her eyes glittered with delight as she turned to him and waved a wing.

Rind’s muzzle moved as he swallowed. He took another bite.

The alicorn looked at the sandwich and snickered.

Yeah, this was probably made when you were Princess.

Celestia’s horn glowed in the sky. A slice of cake levitated up from somewhere to her side. Unlike the alicorn, the cake was actively being torn apart by the howling wind. Pink icing slid off the top and the layers started to come apart.

Celestia gasped in sudden fear and shoved the slice into her muzzle. She stood on the wing and her hooves tapped in delight, golden shoes clicking against the metal. Her horn arced golden sparks as she tossed her head back in joy while she chewed on the delicious slice. A small bit of icing blew away from her muzzle.

Rind also watched sparks kick up from her hooves, just above the turbine. As she danced, small divots appeared in the metal from her weight. Each hoof stomp added a spark and another divot.

The stallion choked on the sandwich. He thumped a hoof against his chest and spat the final bit out. It sailed over the seats ahead of him to land somewhere in the first-class seating with a neigh of dismay. He slammed his hooves against the window.

“No!” Rind screamed, eyes wide at the sparks. “No, you fat nag! You’ll kill us all!”

“Rind—” Smoldering started.

Celestia continued to dance atop the turbine.

“Princess Celestia is going to kill us all!” Rind wailed openly. He stood up in his seat and flailed his hooves. “She’s on the wing! She’s dancing on the wing!”

The screaming foals, the ones that had cried for hours, stopped. Everypony in the cabin stopped speaking, and most ahead turned around to look behind them at the brown and green earth pony rattling the seat in front of him. Rind Watermelon continued to shake the seat, and the mare inside it.

“She’s on the wing!” Rind screamed. “Celestia’s on the wing!”

A pegasus stewardess, dark blue eyes tired, trotted down the row. “Sir,” she said in a deadpan. “Please, sit down.”

“Celestia’s on the wing!” Rind answered. “Look! Look! She’s there!”

Several ponies did look. Rind saw their heads turn to their windows in curiosity. Rind sat down and turned frenzied eyes to the window.

There was nothing on the wing.

“Oh, you fat nag!” Rind snorted. His muzzle pressed against the glass. One hoof landed on the lever. I bet she’s unbalancing the plane every time she lands. But this time, there were divots on the wing, just above the turbine from her heavy hooves.

“Sir!” the stewardess whinnied.

Rind flumped back into his seat and turned to her. The pegasus stood in the aisle, frazzled mane shoved under a jaunty red cap and tired blew eyes below both. She gave both Smoldering and Rind a withering glare.

“I am going to have to ask you to be quiet,” the stewardess said.

“There’s divots on the wing,” Rind answered. “You can see them.”

“Earth ponies,” the stewardess mumbled to herself. “Sir, the former Princess is not on the wing of the plane. The pilots would notice.”

“She’s an alicorn,” Rind said stubbornly. “She has magic.”

“Rind, please,” Smoldering groaned. “Please, just stop.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to remain quiet,” the stewardess repeated, then added, “for the sake of your wife.”

Rind was briefly flattered before seeing Smoldering’s muzzle twist with rage. Her cute fangs gleamed against her charcoal fur, and her red mane made it look intense. “Excuse me?” she hissed dangerously.

“You will remain calm,” the stewardess said in an aggressive voice.

“I am perfectly calm,” Smoldering said in an even growl. “I am not the problem.”

“Ma’am,” the stewardess jerked her head to a unicorn walking down the rows. “If necessary, the Air Marshal will stun you for the remainder of the flight.”

“It’s a flight to Kiria,” Smoldering answered. “Do you do this with every Kirin onboard?”

Rind Watermelon looked around, but did not see any other Kirin in the rows.

“Is there a problem?” the unicorn asked.

“No,” Rind said immediately. “No, we’re fine.” He brushed his hoof against Smoldering and pushed her back in the seat. “Sorry for the outburst. First time flying.”

“And you see Celestia?” the stewardess deadpanned. She snorted and walked away. The Air Marshal savored Smoldering with a side-eye as he trotted back to his seat.

The moment the foals began to cry and chatter resumed, Rind pulled Smoldering over to the window again. “Look,” he hissed. “You can see the divots.”

Smoldering did look, but then she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull away. “I’ve seen that from hail,” she said quietly. “It was probably there before.”

“Hooves,” Rind answered. “Heavy, fat hooves. She’s trying to kill us all.”

Smoldering tried to pull away again.

“Please,” the stallion pleaded. “Please believe me. She’s there.”

“Please let me go,” Smoldering answered. The ring on her horn bumped against his elbow. Rind had wrapped his hoof around her head again.

Rind Watermelon did so, and his ears pinned back. “She’s there,” he said in a small voice. “She is, Smoldering.”

Smoldering pulled her book back out and shifted slightly, showing her scaled back to him. “I’m going to go to sleep in a bit,” she whispered. Her horn leaned against the headrest.

Rind pulled the curtain across the window and went back to his own book, though he did not really read the pages. Time passed, enough time for him to read it twice, though he remembered nothing. Even the plane’s increasing vibrations and rocking no longer bothered him.

“Folks,” the captain’s voice crackled. “It’s almost nightfall. We’ll be dimming the lights in the cabin soon. Just so you’re aware, there’ll be some stormy weather as we cross the ocean, perfectly normal for this time of the year. There’ll be a bit of turbulence during your slumber, but blame the Weather Bureau.”

A few voices chuckled at the joke. Rind and Smoldering did not. The plane rocked again. I need to fix this when we land, Rind thought, but he had no idea how. Smoldering was supposed to show him Kiria and her lovely parents.

The plane rocked again and Rind gripped the armrests. Why do we even call them armests? Rind looked at his forelegs in a grimace. Smoldering had curled her forelegs against her chest and hung forward in the seat, propped up by her seatbelt. It looked deeply uncomfortable, but she was snoring.

The plane rocked again, then vibrated. Rind resisted the urge to pull the curtain back. For the next several minutes, the vibrations and humming from the turbine outside increased with jolts and knocked Rind to the left and right. His fiancée swayed, but did not awaken. Despite the rough weather and his beating heart, Rind Watermelon also felt his eyes droop as the adrenaline finally wore off.

The plane lurched to one side—his side—and a clang resounded just outside the window. A few in the plane whinnied from the jolt, but the shift blended into the next vibration. Rind’s ears perked at the clank of metal, and his eyes snapped back open.

He pulled he curtain back.

Celestia stood on the wing in a hail of rain.

Her coat was wet, though her mane and tail continued to blow in some unseen, gentle breeze. She squinted her eyes into the stinging droplets as they scored across the wing. Rind’s window was streaked with water as well. In the fading dusk, the alicorn stood tall with flared wings, standing just above the turbine.

She looked to Rind, then stuck her tongue out again with a wink. She licked a falling raindrop. The alicorn braced herself atop the turbine, and her mouth opened.

Celestia began to sing in the rain, beating her hooves on the metal.

Her voice did not carry, but the vibrations from the clang of her hooves did. Rind felt the shudders and timed them to the beat of her hooves. Occasionally, a spark appeared from a solid strike of her golden shoes on the divots. They helped illuminate the increasingly dented metal.

Rind looked to her horn and wings, then his earth pony brain began to scream.

Metal coffin metal coffin she’s going to kill us all and fly away with her wings—

Rind Watermelon neighed. He stood, pulling the seatbelt to its maximum length and the buckle tore free. “She’s back!” he brayed into the entire compartment. Every foal aboard began to cry.

“Celestia is going to kill us all!” the stallion raved. He rattled the seat in front of him and knocked the mare insensate. “She’s on the wing! The fat nag is going to bring the plane down with her heavy suns!”

Smoldering snorted awake and flailed her hooves. She coughed, spit stuck between her fangs. Rind looked at his love. I have to save her. He turned back to the window.

Celestia had begun to dance a jig. Her hooves kicked up sparks in the fading light.

Rind looked down at the lever and took it between his hooves.

Celestia winked at him again, and suddenly hopped up. Her wings did not flap, yet she vanished as she disappeared from sight. The alicorn leapt off the wing of the plane as a frog leaps from a lily pad.

Rind Watermelon blinked, then the stun spell struck the back of his head.

Smoldering Ember sighed. Her cloven hoof rubbed the engagement ring on her horn. She turned from the closed window curtain to observe her fiancé.

Rind Watermelon was tied to the aisle seat, restrained by spare buckles and drool matting his coat. The earth pony was unconscious, knocked out by a stun spell. Odds are, he would remain that way long after the plane landed. She was going to have to cart him off. They probably wouldn’t press any official charges, but flying back was out of the question.

Oh, Rind. Smoldering closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. Her hoof brushed against the bent, partially pulled lever. It gave a little under her tap, so the Kirin tucked her hoof against her barrel.

Rind was clever and funny and strong, but he wasn’t always brave. He had been nervous when he approached Smoldering for the first time while she dug for soil samples outside the family’s farm, but what pony wasn’t nervous of a fanged, tall Kirin? Smoldering loved him, dearly, and she tried to remind herself of that.

The plane rocked again and the curtains lit up from a lightning bolt. The turbulence was bad, but it was typical. Smoldering had flown through worse storms, often at Rind’s expense. It was worth it to see him. Another heavy vibration rolled through the plane.

He’ll probably never want to fly again anyway. I’ll have to cancel the tickets back. The Kirin knew her stallion well enough that he would be apologetic for the rest of the trip, probably grovelingly apologetic and beyond embarrassed. Smoldering decided they wouldn’t tell her parents her fiancé saw an alicorn on the wing during the flight.

They hate planes anyway.

Another bout of turbulence rocked the plane, this one bad enough to knock one of the overhead bins open, but it was stuffed with a bag clearly too large to be carried on. Smoldering snorted at it, then snorted at the frazzled stewardess that stumbled up the row to shut it. They shared an evil eye, but Smoldering’s eye was red, so hers was better.

Nearly everypony seemed asleep, despite the thunder and turbulence. The cabin was dark. The plane had been too crowded to move Rind, but Smoldering noticed the Air Marshal’s horn poke out from the corner of her eye two rows behind her.

It seemed more aimed at her than her fiancé.

Another bout of turbulence hit, and Smoldering swayed in her seat. Huh, this is a bit of a storm. She turned an eye to the curtains covering the window. The Kirin hesitated for a moment, then laughed to herself and pulled the curtain back.

Princess Luna pressed her muzzle against the glass.

Her cheeks were distended, gums and teeth exposed as her lips latched onto the window. Her breath puffed against the window pane in the howling rain. Wide cyan eyes drilled into Smoldering and the alicorn’s head tilted to one side as she studied the Kirin.

“Greetings,” the midnight-blue alicorn intoned. Her voice made it through the glass, carried due to her muzzle smashing against the window. A flash of lightning lit the sky beyond her horn.

Celestia stood in the rain behind her sister. She winked and waved a wing.

Smoldering turned to scream, then bumped into her fiancé as he hung in his seat. The stallion swayed to one side and his head lolled into the aisle. Drool crusted his muzzle. Smoldering steadied him, then began to shake him.

“Wake up,” Smoldering panted. “Wake up. You were right. You—” She turned back to the window.

There was a faint imprint of lips on the glass, but even that was being washed away by the rain. Another flash of lightning revealed an empty wing. For the moment the metal was lit, Smoldering saw the indents around the turbine.

Rind Watermelon whimpered in his dream.

Smoldering took a deep breath and propped her fiancé back into the seat. She tugged on the seatbelts and double-checked them, then pulled their saddlebags free and tucked them behind her stallion. After that was done, she gently removed her engagement ring with her horn and tucked it into Rind’s saddlebag.

The Kirin grabbed the broken seatbelt in her new chair and pulled on them, seeing how much she had to work with. Enough. She wrapped the two ends around her hind hocks with her horn and tied them tight. She noticed the Air Marshal’s horn bob out of the corner of her eye, but ignored it for the moment.

The buckle was broken. Smoldering lashed her hind legs together and connected the broken parts. She leaned her head down as her horn sparked. The broken tongue and connector melted together and fused. The Kirin gave it a test tug as a faint wisp of smoke drifted up.

Smoldering made a show of leaning back in her seat and yawning, stretching her forelegs and obscuring the wisp. While she faked a yawn, she turned an eye to the Air Marshal. The unicorn’s horn lolled to the side, and a chorus of snores echoed behind her.

The plane rocked again for another bout of turbulence. Thunder rumbled.

Smoldering tugged her hind legs, but she had wrapped the broken seatbelt tight and felt little give. She stared ahead at the brochures stuffed into the back of the seat in front of her. The curtain was open on her window and the occasional burst of lightning let her see the roiling storm over the ocean. And the empty wing.

Smoldering rested her hoof on the lever, fitting it into the cleft of her cloven hoof. It moved easily. Rind had tugged on it when the stun spell hit him. It would take very little to pull it back.

Smoldering Ember looked out the window. She knew from experience they were about to reach Kiria; the flight had several hours to go, but she spotted the coastline after a lightning flash. She smiled, happy to see home.

Celestia and Luna landed on the wing. Their hooves danced together. Smoldering turned back to the interior, looking at her fiancé as he drooled, tied to a chair. She smiled at him too.

I might as well give them something to profile.

Her ear twitched, and this time she heard the alicorn press against the glass with a wet smack of lips that was somehow louder than the falling rain. It repeated. There were two sets of sounds.

Smoldering Ember turned back to the window.

Both alicorns, Celestia above Luna, had pressed their muzzles to the glass. Their heads tilted to opposite sides because of their horns. They winked at her together.

“Greetings,” both said at the same time.

Smoldering smiled, then pulled the lever.

Luna pulled away in time.

Celestia did not.

The former Princess of the Sun took a Nirik to the face as Smoldering dangled in the seatbelt from the hole.

Canterlot Herald, Voice of Equestria

TERROR IN THE SKY

Equestrian Airlines Flight 815 was forced to make an emergency landing after the turbine failed on the left wing suddenly over Kiria. The turbine caught fire mid-flight, unnoticed by the crew, until disaster struck just over the coast. The plane was forced to deviate under duress and make a desperate landing amidst a seasonal thunderstorm.

Luckily, the former Princesses Celestia and Luna were present in the area for undisclosed, personal reasons. The Alicorn Sisters assisted with the landing, as well as teleporting the dazed passengers ahead further inland and out of the storm. Celestia gained second-degree burns after heroically extinguishing the flaming turbine midflight. No other injuries were reported.

The former Princesses and flight crew credit the lack of injuries to the quick-thinking of the engaged couple, Smoldering Ember, Kirin, and Rind Watermelon, Earth Pony, for noticing the fire and alerting the flight crew. Both have refused to comment further on their actions, only that they were “desperately needed.” The couple have plans to continue their trip.

In thanks, Princess Twilight Sparkle has announced that the happy couple will have an all-expenses paid cruise to return to Equestria. The Princess of Equestria also wishes Celestia a quick recovery with the words, “Hopefully this teaches her not to do it again.”

When asked for clarification, Princess Twilight declined.

After last year’s incident with Captain Sullen and the Breezie Strike, Equestrian Airlines faces deep scrutiny on the conditions of their planes and the overall safety of heavier-than-air travel. The Cloudsdale Weather Corporation and the Wonderbolts continue to push for stronger regulations. Captain Rainbow Dash declared, “Cool prank, but I still hate planes.”

She also refused to comment further.