‘Come on, girl,’ muttered Shining Armor. ‘Run with it! Run with –!’ He sighed, looking disgruntled. ‘Look at that,’ he grunted.
‘Unlucky, Flurry!’ shouted Cadance instead.
‘Unlucky,’ snorted Shining Armor, shaking his head. ‘Luck had nothing to do with it. She looks tied to the tracks out there – five seconds to make a decision.’
‘Don’t be such a rotten old sulk!’ snapped Cadance. ‘Go on, Flurry!’ she called as Flurry Heart took the ball a second time, turned and played it neatly into her team’s striker, who had his back to goal. Shining Armor watched his daughter receive the return pass and shoot. The keeper caught it, and the attack ended. He sighed and shook his head. Cadance glared at him.
‘That’s your daughter, Shining. Try to show a little interest.’
‘Interest isn’t the problem; her shooting is.’
‘It’s only a game.’
‘Yes, it’s a game, and for all the training she’s had, she doesn’t play it well enough.’
Cadance stood up, scowling. She thrust her bag into his chest and, without another word, descended the steps to the touchline, where she applauded along with the team one of their defenders, who’d made a strong challenge. Shining Armor clenched his jaw and followed Flurry closely as she ran, her eyes wide. He shook his head again.
‘Well played, Flurry!’ said Cadance after the match once her daughter’s teammates had disbanded and the grounds began to close. ‘You had a good game today.’
‘Did you like my assist?’ asked Flurry eagerly.
‘Yes, it was very good,’ said Cadance.
‘It was good, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, it was. Shining?’
‘It was,’ said Shining Armor. Flurry watched her father tentatively, as though awaiting his verdict. Shining did not proffer one until the look on Cadance’s face prompted that he clear his throat. ‘It was a good cross. But you missed a sitter, and that could have cost you the game.’
Though the comment seemed reasonable enough at first glance, its effect on Flurry was immediate. Her face fell. Her eyes misted. She swallowed and looked down. Cadance glared daggers at Shining as she held her daughter close. ‘But you won, so it doesn’t matter,’ she said rather tersely. Flurry did not reply and, as they moved out of the stadium and on toward the palace, sped up so that she was walking alone ahead of her parents. Cadance was livid.
‘I’ve had just about enough of this!’ she snarled. ‘You’re not her coach; you’re her father! Every single time, there’s some snide remark about not being good enough. Can’t you see how much she cares for your opinion? And you never even give it tactfully! Let alone whisper a word of encouragement!’
‘The truth’s the truth,’ said Shining Armor flatly. ‘That girl has everything, the best resources, the best trainers, all the money, all the attention. She need only name an opportunity, and the door swings open for her, yet she has too little discipline, too little determination. These advantages are too much to be squandered, and it won’t be our daughter who squanders them,’ he finished, putting down his hoof. ‘It won’t be!’
That was the final word. Unfortunately, the sob up ahead and the sound of running hoofsteps indicated that it had been spoken too loudly.
‘Flurry!’ cried Cadance, running after her. There was a flash, and Flurry disappeared. ‘Flurry!’
Shining Armor watched in horror as Cadance broke down in front of him.
It was bitterly cold in the ice fields, colder than Flurry, in the heat of the moment, had expected. What was worse, the nighttime winds had begun, brutal waves of hail, the cruel breath of Winter herself.
She cried quietly as the snow struck her face. Cadance loved her. Twilight loved her. Her father barely smiled at her. Instead, he frowned, called her lazy and said she didn’t work hard enough. But she was trying. Certainly, she worked as hard as the others. He didn’t seem to care that there was pressure on her. Everypony saw her as the lucky, spoiled child. She was, and would always remain, an outsider, and her father didn’t seem to realise that such a burden could make even the simplest task intimidating. However nice everypony had been to her, she and they both knew that they would happily see the rich filly fail. As a result, when she did things, she was trying them out, seeing whether she could be herself. But her father seemed to think it was life or death. That wasn’t her, and it could never be. She had had to get away, anywhere, perhaps Auntie Twilight’s. So she had teleported.
Now that she had, she felt differently. It was dark, and the light from her horn illuminated on every side only a stretch of white snow as far as she could see. She hadn’t a clue the distance she’d travelled or which way to proceed. She was alone, freezing and frightened. Seized by panic, she cried out for her mother. She trotted forward blindly, throwing light in all directions, desperate for more than endless plains. Eventually, she found a small slope, like the base of a hillock. Here there was, at least, shelter from the wind. She pinned herself to the rock, closed her eyes, pulled close her hooves and tried to remain calm.
Hours passed. She started to cry once more. She was never going to see her parents again.
‘Flurry?’
She opened her eyes. Had she imagined her father’s voice? A beam of light struck her face, and she yelped, drew back and hit her head. As she recovered, a silhouette loomed over her. She cringed backward, expecting a snow bear.
‘Flurry!’
Shining Armor stooped, gathered her in his hooves and pulled her close, sighing with relief. Flurry’s vision swam.
‘You came?’ she croaked. She looked him in the eye, saw his tears. ‘I thought – you didn’t love me.’
They embraced. Flurry was shivering, and Shining held her tightly. ‘I love you,’ he whispered hoarsely, his eyes streaming as Flurry cried happily into his coat. ‘I love you.’
