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               Wonderbolts: Fly, Fight, Win                
                        -by mellon-                        
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                 1 - Farewell to Equestria                 
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1 - Farewell to Equestria
The Wonderbolt HQ was quiet, compared to the constant bustle that was their norm. The elite team had come back in glory the day before, after a month-long tour in Vanhoover and the surrounding areas.
Wonderbolt HQ was positively forsaken, compared to the celebration that had followed the team’s return. Now glasses with various levels of remaining cider littered the dark mess hall. The barrack beds were empty; the Wonderbolts had all gone home after the party.
The tour had been intense, and the Wonderbolts now gratefully took a week off to rest, heal minor aches and strains, and recharge.
Spitfire sighed. Most of the Wonderbolts were resting. For their commandant, the week was already proving itself to hold paperwork to catch up on, forms to fill in, and whatever else had piled up on her desk while she was away. A week of her personal pre-dawn workouts, meetings with other HQ heads to discuss the recent shows and the upcoming ones, publicity fires to quench, calendar shoots to confirm…
A sharp knock came at her sturdy, utilitarian door.
“Come.”
The door opened to admit a nervous young messenger, mane frazzled from flying. Instantly he snapped to attention, hoof meeting his official Mail cap in a salute to the captain.
Spitfire stared blankly at the pony, unmoving. Barely older than a colt, she thought absently. He fidgeted, until she sighed and had pity on him.
“Yes?”
“Priority mail from the Royal Castle in Ponyville, ma’am!” the young postal worker announced.
Spitfire’s frown deepened. “Let’s have it here, then.”
“Right.” The messenger withdrew a sealed envelope from his bags, warily setting it down atop the stacked, similarly official-looking papers. A barely-audible growl welcomed the newest addition to her paper pile. He backed away hastily.
“Dismissed.” Spitfire waved him away.
“Right,” he repeated to himself. “Thank you, ma’am!”
The door shut behind him.
Had this been any other paper added to her pile, Spitfire would have sighed again – there, indeed, was no rest for a Wonderbolt Commandant.
But this was no ordinary paper. Apprehensively, Spitfire took the officially-sealed envelope. She stared at it for a moment. Then she opened it.
Enclosed were three pages of neat hornscript. She scanned them, her eyes settling and softening at the dreaded words at the end of page three.
It had arrived.
It was time to call her team.
“Rainbow Dash!”
The bellow – more than a mere shout – came from far below. Rainbow glanced down and saw the familiar yellow spot that was her captain.
She let loose a quick, shrill whistle and saw her younger flight partner’s head snap up. Still flying hard, she dropped her hoof in a well-rehearsed Wonderbolt signal. A nod from Crosswind showed her he had understood.
As one, they zoomed effortlessly straight up. Rainbow couldn’t help hooting for the exhilaration of it all.
Far, far below, Spitfire gave vent to another sigh. Really, they could have done without the extra flairs.
Yet even she watched from behind her shades. Both Wonderbolts, one muted blue, the other prismatic, were circling back toward her now, picking up speed as they bargained with gravity. Their wings were splayed against the wind as it roared to meet them.
Abruptly, both Wonderbolts came to a complete stop, hovering lightly just above the runway.
Crosswind promptly dropped to the ground. His bright turquoise pompadour was tempered with sweat. He bent double, clearly fighting to regain his breath and just as clearly trying not to make it look obvious.
Rainbow Dash was grinning from ear to ear. She slapped her companion heartily on the back, knocking the wind right out of him – what little he still had, anyway.
“Not bad, not bad! That was alright!” she crowed, still hovering in the air by easy flaps of her wings.
“It was fine,” Spitfire said dismissively, which only served to make Rainbow Dash grin wider. Still, Dash caught Spitfire’s slight jerk to the side, and addressed Crosswind.
“Your wing’s still faltering on that second hairpin, which makes you swing in too narrow. And you were getting slow at the end there. You’re tired and it shows. You need to work on your stamina,” she admonished him. The young Wonderbolt nodded tiredly. He didn’t protest. He respected the legendary flyer too much, and beyond that, he knew she was right.
She bumped him again with her elbow. “Hey. Good work today. Take a good cooldown lap and rest. You’ve—"
“No,” Spitfire interrupted. “Cool down, then report to HQ. Help Soarin tell the others.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Crosswind said, without missing a beat.
“Rainbow Dash, come with me.” Spitfire nodded to the other mare.
Rainbow shrugged, ruffling her wings. With a half-smile to Crosswind, she turned and followed her captain from the runway.
“He’s improving,” Spitfire told Dash in a lowered voice, once they were out of earshot. Too much praise wasn’t good for her younger Wonderbolts. “I guess practicing with you has paid off.”
Rainbow squinted. “He’s gettin’ there for sure.”
“Of course,” Spitfire added thoughtfully, “now I’ll have to drill your mistakes out of him. He’s picking up that damned curl you always do on the barrels.”
Because, she decided, too much praise wasn’t good for any of her Wonderbolts.
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Anyway. What’s up?”
Spitfire glanced at her sideways. “A letter from the Royal Castle.”
Rainbow processed it instantly. The corners of her mouth tightened.
“Yeah,” Spitfire said grimly.
They were the first ones there, but the HQ meeting room filled quickly.
The Wonderbolts were drilled to precision and none of them were late. There was quiet murmuring amongst themselves until Spitfire, standing at the head of the room, flanked by Rainbow Dash and Soarin, cleared her throat. The Wonderbolts came to attention and quickly went through roll call.
“Alright, Wonderbolts,” Spitfire started gruffly. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve dragged you out of your sweet little dreams and sweet little naps in your soft little beds. I’ll get right down to business.
“Princess Celestia needs us to represent Equestria. There’s been a four-way aerial duel issued from the eastern mountain hippogriffs. As part of Equestria’s Air Force, it’s up to us to make sure Equestria is well-represented.”
Murmured questions went around.
Spitfire held up a golden wing. “My talents lie in whopping your lazy flanks and showing you how it’s done. I’m not gonna try to explain it all to you. I have a letter here from Princess Celestia. First off, she kindly informs us what we’re flying into. Allow me to paraphrase for you.”
“A duel like this happens when there’s some land up for grabs but nopony has enough claim on it to actually claim it. Understood, Wonderbolts?” She stared at them through her sunglasses. “Good.”
She continued, reading from the letter now. “Equestria tends to remain neutral when it comes to settling territory claims outside of our borders. This instance is significant, however, because the mountain hippogriffs unfortunately aren’t like the ones we’ve made peace with. They’re a wild race, loyal to nocreature but themselves. There’s rumors they’re in league with certain other mountain races. Ponies like the Exmori.”
Rainbow Dash, who had been there when Princess Twilight first summoned Spitfire, watched as the assembled ponies collectively recoiled. She flicked her gaze at Soarin, who as second-in-command was the only other pony who already knew the details, and saw her grim resolve mirrored in his expression.
Spitfire held up her hoof. “I know you don’t need me to tell you who they are.”
She was right. Everypony knew of the fabled Exmori; a race of pegasi mutated to sport an extra layer in their wings. Once, they had lived peacefully in Equestria – until their rebellion, their poisons, and their schemes were discovered. Then they were driven in hordes out of Equestria, as quickly as they could fly. Legend had it the Exmori still dwelt where they had first taken refuge: past Mount Everhoof, within the hostile range known as the Crag Mountains.
The oldest Wonderbolts might have heard tales from their grandmares; the youngest learned about them in school history lessons. They were bigger-boned than Equestria’s pegasi, and chiefly dark-colored. Supposedly they studded their larger wings with a special kind of light iron. Yet they were capable of flying at almost the speed of sound: experts at their aerial craft.
“Princess Celestia believes they pose a danger to Equestria even now. That, given the chance, they would ‘return and avenge their shame.’”
“And she thinks this… duel somehow gives them that chance?” Misty Fly asked, her brow furrowed.
“I mentioned it’s a four-way duel,” Spitfire acknowledged the question with a nod. “The Exmori are one of them. Equestria is another. Our hosts will be the hippocrags, and a griffon-region’s going too.
“They’ve learned about more than just poisons and potions in exile,” Spitfire continued. “I can’t say if they fly well or not, but they fly fast. If we fail to compete, they will probably win the duel and the land. Even in the unlikely event that they don’t win, the hippocrags and griffons won’t give a fig about protecting Equestria.”
She paused to let that sink in. “Then they’ll infiltrate. Slowly. Patiently. But they’ll do it efficiently.”
“Border guards wouldn’t work,” Soarin added. His methodical, analytical mind – as it was, when there was no sign of a pie or similar pastry nearby – had grasped these details quickly as Princess Celestia explained them. “That could hold them off for a while, but it’d drain Equestria more than we could afford right now.”
The Wonderbolts nodded. They knew of the uneasy peace that resulted from recently-suppressed factions in several of the mixed races that now called Equestria home.
“There’ll be five heats total, spread throughout the three weeks we’ll be there. The final two have been dubbed gauntlets. One team member flies each gauntlet, but the rest of them aren’t solitary. The scoring for each heat varies based on points and whatnot, but basically, the team with the most points wins. Simple enough.”
Surprise’s hoof raised.
“You don’t need a briefing, because the briefing-breezies made packets for you. If you’re a chosen flyer, you will get a packet. If you’re not a chosen flyer, you do not need a packet, and if you’re any kind of flyer at all, there’s nothing you need to ask me at the moment!”
The white hoof went down again.
“We need to decide who our team will be,” Spitfire said, accepting a new sheet of notes from Soarin and peering at it. It held the list of names she, Soarin, and Rainbow Dash had already drafted – should it come to this.
Everypony sensed it wasn’t a question. The Wonderbolts would participate. And, being Wonderbolts, there was no question beyond that. They would win.
“The teams will all have six active flyers, plus one reservist.” Spitfire looked up. “We’ll take two.”
The faces of her team were solemn. Waiting.
“Soarin, Crash, and I will go. That makes three already. Fleetfoot will stay behind and take command of the team here while we’re away. Wave Chill, be her wingpony. You’ll prepare for the winter shows, business as usual.”
Wave Chill saluted, but when Fleetfoot replied, she was frowning. “Yes, ma’am.”
Spitfire stared at her good friend. She could practically taste her disappointment and knew she would be confronted about it later. Mentally, she sighed and resigned herself.
“Wind Waker,” she said next. “Misty Fly. And Crosswind.”
Crosswind had been Rainbow Dash’s choice, she reflected. She couldn’t say she disagreed either.
“As to reservists, Silver Lining—” she nodded to the steely gray stallion, “—and Sky Sparks.” The former was another longtime Wonderbolt. Sky Sparks, a swishy-haired, russet-brown mare, was as new as Crosswind – but both were first-class flyers. She judged they would represent Equestria well.
Wind Waker raised a cream-colored hoof. “Ma’am!”
“Yes, Wonderbolt?”
“When do we leave?”
“In a week. We’ve been delayed enough with the legal dawdling and whatnot. Everypony staying behind will need to start training. I’ll leave behind a schedule and I expect it to be followed. Otherwise, when I get back, you’ll be giving me twenty laps around Cloudsdale until Hearth’s Warming.”
She peered over her sunglasses. “Next year’s Hearth’s Warming.”
“On that note,” Spitfire said, “information packets by the door. Take one and read up if you’re interested. Dismissed, Wonderbolts.”
She saluted the team, who all came to attention and saluted back. Then, with a quick beat of her wings, she headed for the exit first. She knew Rainbow and Soarin would stay behind until everypony else left, handling questions.
In the meantime, she had a certain other Wonderbolt to deal with. Even as she had the thought, her fine-tuned ears heard the displacement of air as another pegasus dashed after her – and she knew she was about to get an earful.
“Spits,” Fleetfoot accused her.
The Wonderbolt captain could feel a headache coming on by now. She stopped, letting her friend catch up.
“Let me come,” Fleetfoot exploded, her emotion making her lisp all the more pronounced. “I’m better than Wind Waker, you know it! I could help you – and the team! I could—”
“No,” Spitfire said briefly. “You’ll stay here to manage the team. It’s decided, Fleets.”
“I’d be more use to you if I came too! Sure, I get Crash going, but I have years more experience than Sparks and Crosswind combined! I’m one of our top flyers!”
Spitfire opened her mouth, but Fleetfoot cut her off.
“I am,” she insisted. “Is it that I haven’t been winning the Derby as much? Huh? I can do it, I’ll train so much harder—"
Spitfire held up a hoof sharply. “Enough!”
Fleetfoot mashed her lips together.
“You don’t have to tell me, Wonderbolt. I know. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you lost the last two Derbies.” She rolled her eyes.
Fleetfoot gestured angrily. “Then take me along!”
Spitfire rubbed her forehead. “Look. I’d like nothing more than to have you fly with us. I know exactly how capable you are. You’re as good as any of us, and you have experience that’d definitely help me sleep through the night in the mountains.”
She grasped her friend’s shoulder with her wing, shaking the other mare slightly. “Don’t you see? That’s why I need you to stay. I need someone I trust to handle the team while I’m gone.
“And that’s you,” Spitfire said, her tone softening to a rare degree. “I’d trust you with my life. But even more than that… I trust you with my team.”
The hard set to Fleetfoot’s jaw wavered.
“Please understand,” Spitfire said gruffly.
“Couldn’t Soarin stay?” Fleets protested – but her argument was feeble and Spitfire was already shaking her head.
“No,” she said, “Soarin’s our strongest stallion flyer. We need him. You know it.”
The struggle was evident on Fleetfoot’s features. There was her sense of reason and duty, which permitted her to accept, grudgingly, what her captain was saying. But there was also her sense of loyalty, to these ponies who were indeed her closest friends. And duty, Spitfire could see, had nothing on loyalty.
“Fine,” Fleetfoot said dully. “But I don’t like it.”
“Makes two of us,” Spitfire told her.
Pinkie Pie was late.
And annoyed.
It was time to say goodbye to Rainbow Dash, but she had been running late all morning, and now the muffins she’d baked just for her friend weren’t ready. They were almost ready; she was grabbing them from where they were cooling on the counter.
She was late because she’d forgotten about the muffins, and she was annoyed because it was beyond uncharacteristic for her to forget such a thing as Rainbow Dash’s muffins. It bordered on unacceptable, but she had no choice but to accept it and hurry.
It was days like this she really wished Cheese were home more often. At the moment he was in Manesotta, delivering some lucky filly’s quarter-birthday Bursting Balloons..
If only he spent that much effort on her quarter-birthdays, she reflected morosely.
“You know,” Pinkie said, a hint of tiredness in her chipper voice, “I love being preggers and all. But I’ll be really glad when I can enjoy and love you when you’re… y’know, not inside me anymore.”
She was hurrying. But in her hurrying, she bumped into the two still-hot jumbo trays of cookies she’d baked earlier that morning for a special client… and sent the entire two batches sailing.
Pinkie flinched at the drawn-out clanging and clashing of bouncing metal as the large trays banged against the cabinets one, two, three times before they hit the bakery floor. She made one desperate grab for them, missed, and saw her fresh batches of cookies make a mess of her floor and worse still, turn inedible.
Then there was silence, stark against the loud crashing.
And suddenly, everything seemed like too much. Her haunches sank to the floor and bitter, fat tears welled up in her eyes.
The door separating café from kitchen swung open, just seconds before Pinkie would have transitioned to full-out wailing.
“Um… Pinkie?”
Pumpkin Cake paused, an empty, round serving tray balanced on her hoof. She had just delivered an order of the day’s special to Table Four, and was coming in to fetch Table Six’s.
“What happened?”
Pinkie looked at her miserably.
“I-I…” she broke off and gestured helplessly to the ruined cookies scattered and broken on the floor around her. “Th-they… Dash…”
Pumpkin nodded sagely, with wisdom beyond her years. She didn’t know what exactly had happened, but she had been working for Pinkie for a while now, and had known her much longer. She didn’t need to understand to know what to do.
“Okay.”
Swiftly, she set aside the serving tray and wiped her hooves on the cloth she carried in her waitressing apron. She stuck her hoof out and helped Pinkie back to her feet. Then she handed her a fresh kerchief. “Take a deep breath.”
Pinkie took the kerchief and blew her nose loudly, mopping her face. Her sides shuddered with small whimpers a few more times, then Pinkie managed a watery smile at her apprentice.
Pumpkin, with all the precision and skill Pinkie had drilled into her all her life and especially this past year, was deftly packaging the cooled muffins into the bright pink to-go bag.
Pinkie sniffled. “… thanks, Pumpkin…”
“Now go,” the younger mare said firmly, pressing the bright bag of muffins into Pinkie’s hooves.
“Are you sure you—”
“I can handle the Café,” Pumpkin confirmed. She raised an eyebrow. “Go.”
Pinkie felt the tears coming on again, this time at the generosity and kindness of this young teenager.
Of course, she wasn’t thinking of the times she’d been frustrated by her infuriating teenager-ness just then.
She couldn’t help herself – she grabbed Pumpkin in a tight, emotional hug, which Pumpkin returned readily enough.
“Thank you,” Pinkie whispered, and then suddenly released her. “I gotta go!”
Energy renewed, Pinkie dashed through the kitchen doors. It wasn’t quite as quick as a normal Pinkie dash would be. But it was a start.
Pumpkin waved her off. Then she turned and studied the mess of pastries crumbled across the floor. She sighed. She’d serve Table Six – and then come back to deal with the ruined batches of cookies.
Rainbow Dash raved over the muffins when Pinkie presented them. They were her favorite of Pinkie’s baked goods, and she wasn’t lying when she said it.
Indeed, there were no more secrets about pies. At one point, in a fit of genius or exasperation, Pinkie had urged Rainbow Dash to share what kind of treats she’d enjoy most. She hadn’t been offended when Dash shared – hesitantly, at first, about the healthy eating that was her lifestyle now.
To the contrary, Pinkie took it as a challenge, and in the years since had delighted in baking creative and delicious treats for her friend – who, in turn, genuinely enjoyed what Pinkie came up with. Plus, Pinkie found perpetual glee in ponies’ expressions when they asked for the recipe and couldn’t believe the ingredients.
These muffins were bakery-style big. They were golden and glazed, dotted with dark chocolate chunks and with a crumbly topping.
Rainbow Dash had barely gotten a grip on the bag, when Pinkie – overcome by emotion again – snatched her in a tight hug. Dash’s heart twinged and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. She knew beyond a doubt that all the mopey stuff like selflessness and love had gone into these muffins.
“Thank you,” she said into Pinkie’s bushy mane, in a slightly raw voice.
The pink mane nodded into her jaw and she felt Pinkie squeeze tighter.
The others laughed softly when the embrace ended. Rarity took her turn hugging Rainbow goodbye.
“Take care of yourself now, darling,” she said.
Rainbow nodded. “I will.”
“See that you do,” Rarity whispered, and then drew back slowly.
Then Twilight, eyes misty, came forward with her wings outstretched.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Twilight murmured.
“Nah—” Rainbow started, but then it was Twilight’s mane swimming into her face and she closed her mouth, giving Twilight an awkward pat on the back.
“We’ll miss you, Rainbow Dash.”
Rainbow nodded again. She couldn’t bring herself to speak anymore, although she didn’t know why. There was some dark cloud hovering over this goodbye that set it apart from before she left for Wonderbolt tours. Nobody was speaking about it, but everybody could sense it.
Twilight stepped back again, and they all stood, shuffling their hooves.
“I hate goodbyes,” Rainbow said abruptly, roughly dashing a foreleg across her eyes and disguising it by tossing her mane back. And hugs.
“Ye an’ me both,” Applejack muttered. Her hat was drawn low and her eyes were hidden under its shadow. Her hug was brief but strong, and Rainbow squeezed her eyes shut as she returned it with her own strength wholeheartedly.
“Well then…” Dash hesitated. “I guess I’ll g—”
But she was interrupted by a whispered shout.
“Wait!!!”
Rainbow’s heart lifted at the sound.
Seconds later, rapid, lightly trotting hooves could be heard, closely followed by a very familiar – and very welcome – sight. A pastel yellow pony, her long pink mane drawn into a loose bun, trotting toward them as quickly as she could.
“’Shy!” Rainbow called her happily. “You made it!”
“Of… course…” Fluttershy stopped by the group and bent, regaining her breath. When she could speak normally again, she straightened and smiled at her oldest friend. “Of course I’d come. We were just running a teensy bit late. I’m really sorry.”
“No worries.” Rainbow flashed her a quick grin. “Thank you all for coming to see me off. I’ll be back before any of us know it.”
Fluttershy cleared her throat, glancing at her other friends.
“Actually.” She paused, then pushed on, “I… I’m coming with you.”
Rainbow’s head snapped up, a protest on her lips.
But Fluttershy put out a hoof to forestall her. She shook her head firmly, and there was a new steel in her gentle green eyes. “I’ve made up my mind, Rainbow Dash. I want to come with you. I am coming with you.”
Before Rainbow could utter a word, protest or otherwise, there was the sound of a large bubble popping.
And into existence before her, beside his most favoritest pony in all the realms and story-verses, Snapped Discord, his arms flung wide and his face pushed forward and smirking.
“Surprise!”
Rubber ducks and real sprinkles rained like confetti around him.
Dash blinked.
Discord straightened and waved a paw vaguely behind him. This was a cue to three suitcases to march into existence as well, and – hopping on skinny legs that disappeared once they weren’t needed anymore – line up.
Rainbow looked from Fluttershy, to Discord, to the rest of her friends.
Discord cleared his throat, and then noodle-bent forward to stage whisper in Rainbow’s ear, “I’m coming too, in case you didn’t catch that.”
“Guys.” Rainbow frowned, slowly shaking her head. “No. It’s not gonna be pretty. Don’t you want to come to, like, one of my shows instead?”
Fluttershy put her hoof on her friend’s shoulder, and met her eyes.
“I know it might—will—be dangerous. But that’s why I want to come with you. I know you would fly super fast and really well on your own. Just, maybe you’d fly even faster if you had a friend with you.
“And besides,” she said, smiling back at her special some-draconequus. He returned it goofily. “I’ll have Discord to protect me.”
“Yes, yes,” the draconequus said, his expression suddenly darkening to very, very dark indeed. His tone turned dangerously low, and his eyes contracted as they stared into a faraway distance only he could see. “And I can be very, very frightening when I choose to be…”
There was a pause.
“He’s right,” Twilight admitted dryly.
“I know I am, Twinkle Toes.” And Discord’s grin was back.
“I don’t know what to say,” Rainbow finally replied. She turned to the rest of her friends. “Did you guys know about this?”
The rest of her friends, who exchanged looks.
Twilight answered. “It was Fluttershy’s idea. She told us she wanted to go after she found out you’d be leaving. I don’t think it’s a bad idea, Rainbow Dash. It won’t be easy. You could use some support. This kind of thing is what friends are for, isn’t it?” She put a hoof around Rarity as she said it.
“Please accept it, Dash,” Applejack said quietly.
Rainbow looked down. There was silence for a long moment.
“Fine.”
She met Fluttershy’s eyes first, then Discord’s. It was a small smile that she managed, but a warm one. “It will be a lot more fun with you two along.”
The journey began very shortly after Rainbow Dash, as well as Fluttershy and Discord, left their friends.
Discord, never one to fly to places he could teleport to, simply Snapped his talons once, and the three of them vanished before Rainbow could say she had left luggage at the cloudhouse. The others were left standing there, gripped by uncomfortable worry. Nopony wanted to leave for fear of it feeling real. They had no illusions about what faced their friends.
Cloudsdale Ground Train Station was in chaos.
The loading area swarmed with a hustling mess of crew, train workers, Wonderbolts, and cadets storing piles of belongings and baggage onto the cars. It was efficient chaos, thanks to the bellowing yellow spot standing with her clipboard in the center of all the activity; but it was chaos nonetheless.
There were no family farewells being said here, no friends saying their final goodbyes. The train, dark, looming and gray, sat on the tracks, occasional puffs of steam rising from the horn as her conductors and engineers tested her. The air reeked of oil and smoke.
This train was one of two that had been exclusively reserved for the Wonderbolts on their journey. It would transport them for most of it: seven days and nights nonstop, if all went according to plan.
But when did anything ever go according to plan, Spitfire wondered fatalistically, as she waited for the inevitable cry of someone having forgotten something.
She heard a subtle cracking sound, much like the sound of an ember turning into a spark. She raised an eyebrow as Rainbow suddenly materialized into existence a mere five feet from her. It went up further as she registered Fluttershy and Discord appearing with her. Still, she didn’t miss a beat.
“There you are, Crash,” she snapped. “You’re late.”
Rainbow opened her mouth, but Spitfire plowed on.
“Never mind. You were supposed to be in Car Six, but go to Car Four. There’s two beds there. He can take Car Six.” She jerked her head in Discord’s direction.
Behind him, armed and legged suitcases were marching once again into order.
“Meals and common room in Car One. Get your stuff loaded so we can move out. Go, go, go!” She shouted the last words, already turning away to hurry along two of her gear-laden cadets.
“Yes, ma’am!” Rainbow said.
As he followed Rainbow and Fluttershy to the numbered train cars, with his line of suitcases marching in step behind him, Discord felt decidedly disappointed that he had elicited no reaction from the Wonderbolt Commandant. He would have to work on this one, he noted to himself.
Hectic as it was, what remained of the efficiency and discipline Spitfire insisted upon paid off. Within the hour they were slowly pulling out of the train station. A large number of cadets gathered on the platform, waving their hooves and blue-and-yellow signs.
The train whistled twice as it picked up speed, wheels clicking rapidly under the swaying floor. The chug-chug-chug rhythm of its huffing engine tumbled into itself until it became chugchugchug. The station became smaller and smaller, until it was barely a blurred spot in the distance.
The Wonderbolts were on their way to the Crag Mountains.
“Permission denied. Obviously. Obviously times ten. If your friend can’t magically produce your suitcases, you’re just gonna have to go without.”
Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to protest.
“Uh-uh-uh.” Spitfire’s hooves and eyebrows were equally raised in a very clear shut up position. “I don’t wanna hear it! It’s hard for you to process, I know, but sometimes even ideas that don’t seem risky to you are stupid!!”
Her tone rose at the end. Unfairly, Rainbow thought. If she hadn’t come to Spitfire with the forgotten suitcases, she could have slipped out the window and flown the distance to and back from her cloudhouse twice.
“At least,” Spitfire continued in a low voice, “you asked.” Her eyebrows pinched together, a glare beneath them.
Rainbow set her jaw. “Fine.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, yes, ma’am. And sorry, ma’am.”
“Ah, good,” Spitfire said flatly, as the air surrounding them suddenly tore like a piece of paper. “He’s back.”
Through the rip stepped Discord, dressed like a jolly gentleman. He held Rainbow Dash’s suitcases up triumphantly.
“And he delivers,” Spitfire said, her tone indicating this was one checkbox crossed off and she was long since off to the next one. She stormed out of the car.
“Well.” Discord shrugged. “That’s one fire extinguished.”
While he guffawed with glee, snorting something about puns, Rainbow tuned him out in favor of briefly skimming the contents of these suitcases. Just to check if they were, in fact, hers.
Discord, once he recovered, watched her.
“Your house is depress-o, by the way.” Discord eyed her critically. “I thought for sure you’d have rainbow lights and glitter water coming out of your sink.”
“No,” Rainbow said irritably. “The rainbow water is for drinking. Get it right.”
He shrugged, unbothered.
“Seriously though,” Discord mused aloud. “No recent pictures? No mail in your door. Not even a plant. It’s like a ghost’s house.”
“Luna.” Rainbow threw her hooves up. “Thanks for these. Bye.”
“Say hello to Fluttershy,” Discord called after her, waggling his paw. Somehow, each of the fingers sported pastel pink manes.
Needless to say, back in her own car, things were less… fiery.
In the companionable quiet with Fluttershy, who worked on her own side of the car, Rainbow had stacked her suitcases. Made her bed… somewhat. Set aside the toiletries she’d need that night. The bed was simple, but comfortable enough.
She hopped onto it now and sprawled on her back, letting out a satisfied sigh. It felt beyond amazing to lie still, at last.
“Are you alright, Rainbow Dash?”
She came up on one elbow, looking at Fluttershy, who methodically and neatly pulled sheets over her own bed.
“Me?” Rainbow said easily. “We’re going to a place that’s about to witness the awesomeness of the Wonderbolts for the first time. I’m great!”
Fluttershy giggled softly and kept arranging her bed.
“Not really looking forward to all this time on a train,” Rainbow added, grimacing.
“We’ve had longer trips,” Fluttershy pointed out. “Remember the time the Cutie Map called us to help the yaks who’d left Yakyakistan?”
Dash groaned. “Rainiest friendship mission ever. It’s totally unfair that pegasi magic virtually disappears once you get into the Frozen North.”
“And we were really in the Frozen North that time,” Fluttershy added.
“But it was worth it,” Rainbow reflected. “Friendship missions always were.”
“Are,” Fluttershy corrected.
A pause. “Yeah.”
A silence fell. And though it was mostly content, with Fluttershy turning back to finish making her bed and Dash grabbing one of her Daring Do comics to skim, there seemed to be just a hint of tension.
Dash dismissed it. If there really was anything, it was surely due to the looming trip. But such adventures had only ever brought them together – all of their friends.
Speaking of their friends…
“Hey…” Rainbow began. “How’s… Pinkie Pie doing?”
“Pinkie?” Fluttershy frowned. “Why? Did you notice something wrong?”
“No.” Rainbow gestured vaguely. “She just looked more tired than usual, or something. Even pregnancy-usual, I guess! And she was late. Not really like her, is all.”
Fluttershy nodded slowly. “Well, I would think all of that’s normal. She is going into her third trimester. Whenever my animals at the Sanctuary are expecting, their bodies are getting ready for the big day, and know they need to have as much energy as possible.”
“I know,” Rainbow said uncomfortably. “I was around High Winds when she was, uh, pregnant. I guess… I didn’t expect it to happen to Pinkie.”
Fluttershy giggled softly. “Pregnancy symptoms?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Ha-ha. Hey, in my defense, Pinkie never runs out of energy. It was weird to see her like this!”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate your concern,” Fluttershy said. “You could always write her a letter while we’re away, and ask her how she’s doing.”
“I did write her on tour,” Rainbow said, tone almost growing defensive. She’d written updates and been so happy when she received notes from her friends in return. “I wrote all of you.”
Fluttershy held out a calming hoof. “I know. I loved getting your letters.” She smiled. “I’m… just sure Pinkie can use any encouragement and uplifting she can get right now. It would be good for us to let her know especially that we care about her, and we’re here for her.”
For a moment, Dash looked like she was about to argue. When she thought about it like that… her letters had always been delayed. And she should’ve reassured her friends, especially Pinkie, that she wanted their daily-life details. She hadn’t.
But she had been so busy…
She closed her mouth. “Yeah. I will. Thanks.”
Fluttershy smiled. “She says she won’t have the foal until we’re back.”
Rainbow chuckled. “With anypony else, I’d say no way. With Pinkie…”
The two of them shared a knowing look and laughed.
As the days went on, the scenery had begun to steadily shift from the bright, green, and growing landscape of Equestria to the grayer, rockier, colder territory of the mountains. Where the first phase of their journey took them west, far past Yakyakistan, they were now heading north. They would continue following their northern trajectory deep into the mountains, as straight as the underdeveloped railroad tracks would permit. Finally, turning eastward, they would reach the hippocrag domain.   
Spitfire took care to periodically check in with each of her Wonderbolts outside of the daily, grueling workouts they did as a team. On the morning of the fifth day, the temperature drop made itself felt, and everypony aboard layered on sweaters. Except for Discord, of course. Discord built himself a personal bonfire, whipped up marshmallows, and invited only Fluttershy.
Fluttershy and Discord weren’t the only guests, but they were two of few. Only Wind Waker had brought his wife, June Bloom. The round, ivory pegasus had amber eyes and a different bandana for every day. Her role wasn’t entirely for moral support. She would take over the role of cook after the train left them in the mountains.
The Wonderbolts coped with the trip well enough. Sky Sparks had it worst of all of them. She looked ready to disembark before they had hit even the halfway point of their journey.
On the morning of the third day, Spitfire passed the rookie’s door on her way to breakfast. It was shut. She paused before it, tuning her ears to listen over the steady rocking and rumbling of the train underfoot. She heard nothing; certainly no young Wonderbolt crashing about, hurrying to report to the meal train.
“Sparky?” she called, and rapped on the door. “You still in there?”
An indecipherable mumble came from inside, and in annoyance, Spitfire pushed open the door.
Her annoyance grew when she sighted the messy upkeep of her rookie’s room, and she was drawing breath to give said rookie a loud earful of what exactly the Wonderbolt standard of tidiness required—
But then her eyes settled upon Sky Sparks.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.
In the brief moment before Sky Sparks disentangled herself from the covers to stand and salute her captain, Spitfire saw a most revolting sight. A Wonderbolt huddled in bed. And there was an awfully large supply of tissues beside her.
“At ease,” Spitfire said. “Speak, Wonderbolt.”
“Ma’am! I’m not feeling up to breakfast today. I-I think I’m having a little trouble adjusting to the mountains.”
She made no excuses, even though her ears drooped with shame at the admission.
Spitfire lowered her shades, peering at Sky. Up close, her eyes looked watery and her nose raw. “I’ll say. You don’t look too good, newbie.”
Sky nodded miserably. “I’ve been having the worst nosebleeds…”
Spitfire’s face remained stoic as ever, but through her mind chanted a series of explosive words.
So that’s what the tissues were about.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Sky Sparks whispered. “I—”
“Not your fault, newbie,” Spitfire said briskly, replacing her sunglasses. “You don’t usually have problems with high altitude, so I expect it’ll pass soon enough.”
Sky nodded.
“But we do need to make sure you’re in flying condition,” Spitfire continued shortly.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sky Sparks – if she was less than a Wonderbolt – would have fidgeted uncomfortably.
“Well, ah… hang in there. Let us know if we can help. Get you more tissues… or something.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Sky Sparks sniffled again. Spitfire eyed her warily and began casually backing away.
“And I’ll have Dr. Wing come by,” Spitfire said over her shoulder. “You’re dismissed from breakfast. See me later so I can go over the announcements with you.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Sky Sparks saluted.
With a nod, Spitfire left. This time, when she paused after silently shutting Sky Sparks’ door behind her, it was through her teeth that a soft word or two escaped.
While the rest of the Wonderbolts, their assistants and crew, and the guests met in the dining car for breakfast, Spitfire passed around a stack of papers, and proceeded to go over the plan for when they arrived in the hippocrag town.  
A pretty, young mare stood slightly behind Spitfire. She wore glasses and had her short hair loose. It took a double take to realize she had petite wings folded at her mauve-colored sides, but her real defining factor was the white medical coat she wore. Fluttershy recognized her as the new Wonderbolt medic: highly trained and skilled by requirement, even if fresh to the field.
Rainbow Dash listened as she ate, but Fluttershy felt her appetite take its leave. The words Spitfire was using so matter-of-factly – the words she used to explain the security measures, and the daily procedures each of the Wonderbolts would undergo to monitor their health and bodies – were chilling.
“Why all these exams?” Crosswind asked, his ochre eyes scanning the packet. He laughed. “They’re kind of…”
Spitfire leveled her steely gaze on the young Wonderbolt. “Should anything happen to any of us, we need to know as soon as possible.
“All of you,” she barked, including the guests present at breakfast, “If you notice anything – anything at all – about yourself, your health, or any of our company, that’s out of the ordinary, you must let us know immediately. I don’t care if you think it’s just the altitude or a cold. We will not bargain with our safety.”
Everyone nodded. Discord looked bored, and Snapped himself to someplace more interesting.
“Dr. Acute Wing’s here to answer any question about all that, and she’ll be coming around. Ask away. And ask her, okay? She’s the expert, not me.”
A chorus of “yes, ma’ams” rippled around the room.
“If all goes to plan, and it never does, we’ll reach town tomorrow morning. Get some rest while you can.” She nodded briskly to the ponies.
“This damn altitude, Dash,” Spitfire muttered, sliding into the seat Rainbow freed for her. One of the meal crew hurried to bring her a plate of scrambled eggs and a sunflower seed bagel. “My ears are actually gonna explode.”
Fluttershy watched her sympathetically.
Rainbow swallowed a mouthful of waffle and nodded, grimacing. “I know what you mean.”
“I thought it was just me,” Fluttershy confessed.
The Wonderbolts looked at her—Spitfire’s mind briefly conjuring an image of her downed newbie.
“Why’s that?” Rainbow asked.
Fluttershy shifted on her bench. “Well, you guys are always flying up so high. I thought you’d experience this all the time – and be used to it, I guess!”
Spitfire shrugged. “We have altitude prep and gear for that. Plus, this is a different climate altogether.”
“It’s different,” Dash agreed.
“Discord gave me these,” Fluttershy said, reaching down into her bag and pulling out a square packet. She passed them to Spitfire. “They’re, um, a special kind of chewing gum. It’s been helping a bit. You can have this if you want.”
Spitfire stared at the multicolored package. “Thanks. I’ll try it.”
“And now,” she stood, leaving her scrambled eggs untouched and giving the two a brief smile, “I have a stack of insurance forms with my lucky name on them.”
They reached the train station in the morning, and the desolate town just before noon. Both only fringed the Crag Mountains, which was to be expected. The hippocrags would never lead foreigners into the heart of their hidden nation.  
At the creaky old train station, which was utterly vacant and barely had a shed to show for it, the team disembarked. Led by Spitfire, they went ahead to the competition grounds, while the crew stayed to unload and bring the luggage.
Even here, thin fog swirled and hovered above the ground, giving the grounds a ghostly, almost unreal sense. Celestia’s sunlight was weak and milky, cut off by the steep rocky peaks.
Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Discord – in the pony form he would be taking in public while they were here – followed the Wonderbolt leaders. The part of town they passed through gave the illusion of being deserted, but everypony could feel the disconcerting, accusing pairs of eyes watching them from where they themselves could not be seen.
Some mountain hippogriffs dared to show themselves, if only to stare at the Wonderbolts with guarded interest. These were easy to miss: their coats were shades of gray, and blended in with the stones that seemed to make up everything from road to roof.
“You’d find more cheer in a graveyard,” Discord grumbled between his teeth, taking on a peculiar Dwarven accent.
Rainbow Dash looked at her companions. Fluttershy’s slightly furrowed brow betrayed the worry she felt. Even Dash had to admit to a certain tug of tension – it was inevitable. The town bred it.
She went for a light tone. “This is rich, Discord. I never, everthought I’d see the day you willingly turned into a pony.”
Discord shot her a cross look. He alone seemed unaffected by the dreariness. “Ha. Ha. Ha-Ha. It’s positively hilarious. Yes, yes. ‘Willingly.’
“I still look quite sharp, don’t I, my love?” As he turned to look at Fluttershy, his red eyeballs rolled up and turned into radiating red hearts.
Fluttershy smiled at him. “Always, dear.”
As the group neared the duel grounds, they started to see more bustle. There were tents and pavilions set up, but far from the cheerful, exciting, colorful awnings they were used to in Equestria.
Solemn creatures went in. Solemn creatures came out. Everyone appeared in a hurry, and certainly no one smiled.
“This place needs Pinkie Pie,” Rainbow muttered. Fluttershy began to nod. But the corner of her eye picked up something, a movement of something vibrantly familiar.
“Oh!”
A slender little bird had flit by. With a quick flap of her wings, Fluttershy raised herself in the air, and called gently after it. The bird hesitated, and turned.
They proceeded to have a conversation, of which Rainbow and Discord down below didn’t understand a word.
But Fluttershy was smiling when she lowered back to the ground again, and if a Cragbird’s flapping wings and rusty tweeting could convey newfound cheer, this bird’s did.
“What a sweetheart!” Fluttershy said enthusiastically. “He told me he’s been watching the other representatives prepare, and that we’re the last team to arrive.”
Rainbow smiled at her friend. She was about to reply, when—
A purposeful cough. They looked up, and saw a large pony. He was an ugly mashup of gray and brown, and Rainbow’s eyes instantly went to the powerful wings tucked at his sides. She thought she could see a quick glimmer of silver, reflecting in the weak daylight, tucked within the rustling feathers.
An Exmori.
His dark eyes were trained on Fluttershy, lips twisted in an unflattering smirk. Moving deliberately, he mimed picking up a large rock from the floor, looking at it in mock surprise, and then heaving it after the bird.
Quickly Fluttershy averted her eyes. She felt a wing cover her protectively and let Rainbow hurry her along.
“Discord,” Rainbow said sharply. “C’mon.”
But Discord had obviously seen him too. And he had seen the rock, and the way that pony looked at his beloved Fluttershy.
He remained, glaring through narrowed, red eyes at this abominable excuse of a creature.
“Discord,” Rainbow repeated. She kept her voice down, but she knew he’d heard.
With a final narrowing of his terrifying red eyes, Discord turned and walked after the Wonderbolt group.
After an increasingly impatient hour of dealing with the formalities and contracts, signing waivers until the words swam on the page, and being pricked with a needle for the blood tests, they were finally able to get their key.
“Welcome to paradise,” Spitfire announced as she unlocked the building for the first time. The door opened to a dark first level, the single window at the end of the hall shuttered. “Let’s hope we enjoy our stay.”
“It’s small,” Sky Sparks murmured when she stepped inside.
“It’s big enough,” Spitfire answered shortly, standing by as Soarin held the door. “Barely.”
Rainbow thought it was entirely unfair that Spitfire didn’t bother excluding her from the glare she sent Discord as they passed by.
Space was tight. The extra reservist meant that there would have been only one spare room – if Discord hadn’t claimed it. Claimed it he had, declaring that a “safe and creative space” for his portable Chaos realm was non-negotiable.
So, team meetings would be held in the captain’s room. Said captain was thoroughly vexed about yet another concession she had to make.
The main door shut behind the last Wonderbolt. Somepony had opened the curtains, and a bustle settled into the crude house. It was still dreary, especially considering how dim the light offered from outside was. But it was a start.
Until the first team meeting later that day, everypony was free to unpack and, having done that, do as they pleased.
Fluttershy, for one, was exhausted. Like any pegasus, she wasn’t terribly comfortable confined to the train for such a long trip. But unlike the Wonderbolts, all of whom seized the opportunity to stretch their wings again, she was grateful to simply enjoy the solid ground beneath her hooves.
Discord followed her into her room. She gave him a weary – but no less fond or bright – smile. He leaned close, delicately cupping her chin and examining her face. “You look tired. Rainbow Dash wasn’t exhausting you, was she?”
Fluttershy giggled tiredly. “No. I’m tired, but it’s not Dashie’s fault at all.”
“It kind of is…” Discord chuckled gleefully.
“Discord…”
“I kid.” The draconequus drew back, daintily waving a claw. “I’m glad we came. Bouncing between Ponyville and Canterlot was getting dreadfully boring. And all that work just for ‘progress’ and Equestrian peace!”
He shook his head. “A grand adventure was long overdue.”
Fluttershy smiled.
“… Bridges burned, friendships and bonds strengthened… danger, excitement, competition… Chaos… simmering romance…”
He looked at Fluttershy with a look that absolutely sizzled her insides and made her cheeks rise to dangerous temperatures.
“Really, what’s not to love?” he mused in a husky voice.
Fluttershy found herself tongue-tied for several moments after that, but had the presence of mind to think that really, the mountain cold probably wouldn’t affect her much at all.
“I’m desperately sorry,” Discord whispered into her mane.
She shifted to look up at him, frowning.
“I have to go.”
“What?”
“Rainbow Dash is preparing for an expedition and I, as the only professional here, must go with her.”
“Okay.” Fluttershy smiled reluctantly. “Stay out of trouble, you two…”
“No promises,” Discord said. He was busy donning an archeologist’s headlamp and a hoof pick, as well as other useful bits like a map, a toolbelt, Daring Do’s lasso, and a folded tent. “But I do pledge you my eternal love, and a promise that I will be back soon.”
“Alright then. I suppose that will do. Have fun.”
“Oh, I will.”
Rainbow caught Spitfire just as she was about to close her door. The captain looked tired and irritated, faced with several tasks – the least of them unpacking. If Dash had seen her face, she would have turned tail immediately.  
Naturally, she didn’t, and Spitfire scowled at her when she automatically said, “Hey, Cap?”
“I know what you’re thinking and I don’t want you doing it. Take a fly around the house if you really have to. But don’t leave.”
“I thought you said—”
“Yes, Crash,” Spitfire sighed. “You’re free to do as you please within the limits of this building. Now get out of here.”
“I would,” Rainbow muttered.
Spitfire flared. “What was that, Wonderbolt?”
“Nothing, ma’am! Sorry, ma’am!”
Rainbow just barely leapt out of the way when Spitfire’s door shut in her face, with a definitive thump.
From experience, she knew that Wonderbolts who loitered around in front of the Captain’s door usually ended up assigned to dinner dish duty – alone.
She stopped at Crosswind’s open door.
“You look like muck,” she informed the rookie crankily.
“Thanks.” Crosswind rolled his gray eyes. “You smell like daisies.”
“Hey.” A voice followed a quick rap at the door, and both turned to see Wind Waker. “There’s been a mix-up with the rooms. Soarin wants you two to switch.”
Crosswind frowned. “Why?”
“Turns out the hippocrags gave us assigned seats.” The senior Wonderbolt looked vaguely amused. “But I think Spitfire also just wants this side. It has a better view.”
Rainbow followed his nod to the window and approached it curiously. This side of the building faced an identical house.
“Who’s over there?”
The curtains must have been drawn, because all she – pegasus vision and all – could see were black windows.
Wind Waker answered. “I believe those are the Exmori.”
“C’mon,” Rainbow said finally, to Crosswind. “Let’s switch.”
Swooping to Crosswind’s luggage, she grabbed two duffle bags and adjusted her grip.
But, as she did so – indeed, it was disturbed by her quick motion – she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Bags dropping from her hooves again, she pointed.
“What’s that?”
Both stallions turned to follow her hoof.
“I think the cleaning crew didn’t clean up after themselves,” Crosswind offered. He followed her to the desk, both peering down at the peculiar, black feather lying on it.
Rainbow stopped. “Shorty.”
“What?” His guileless, gullible face looked back at her.
“You think there’s… a cleaning crew?”
He looked confused. And wary. “Not anymore…?”
His teammates’ eyes met, momentarily totally at a loss.
“Shorty!”
The bellow from the hallway was the only heads-up they got before Spitfire banged into the room – somehow with as much grace as if she had just flown as lead performer at the Grand Galloping Gala.
“Thanks to this mess our gracious hosts left me, there’s been one more mix-up. You’re in my room. Crash, you’re staying in the room you’re in right now, and you—” Spitfire squinted at her clipboard, with something akin to exasperation. “Looks like you’re on Silver Lining’s left.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
With impressive speed but considerably less grace than Spitfire had displayed, Crosswind scrambled to somehow juggle all his luggage and evacuate into the hallway. With one more curious look at the feather, Wind had pity on the rookie, and followed after him to pick up what he inevitably dropped.
Spitfire’s frown had deepened again. “What’s this?”
“Believe it or not, we were just talking about that.” Rainbow grinned. “Shorty thought the cleaning crew didn’t do their job well.”
“And that’s why we call him Shorty,” Spitfire said mildly.
“Hey, Cap?” somepony called the dreaded words.
“What?” Spitfire barked back.
Soarin slid to a halt in the doorway. “Sparky’s nose gushed all over the mess hall—uh, mess room. June’s with her and asking where the tissues are, and they’re using the dish towels for now. And Dr. Wing said to tell you not all her stuff made it here, so she sent Silver and Lumbar back to the station to see where it is.”
“Could you actually go get Dr. Wing?”
“The doctor?” Rainbow frowned. “Why?”
Spitfire ignored her. “And tell Sparky to get herself under control. The tissues are in the bathroom luggage pile, which is probably still outside. We can use the spare bath towels for the dishes. Tell her she can get cleaned up and then help us already.”
“She can’t,” Soarin sighed. “We don’t know where the showers are, or the bathrooms, for that matter.”
“A shower?” If Spitfire was capable of being surprised at anything, it was even unlikelier she could show it. But, it was worth noting that above her tinted shades, eyebrows suddenly appeared. Quickly, they pinched way down again, and Spitfire growled, “Well, tell her to find a raincloud!”
Soarin shrugged helplessly.
“Crash.” Spitfire turned to her. “Still up for a flight around the block?”
“Yeah!” Rainbow flared her wings, showing just how ready for flight she was. But her face fell when Spitfire didn’t revise her earlier command.
“Well, good. I want you to find out where everything is around here. Bathroom and showers have priority. Kitchen, stairs, the like. We might as well know what we’re working with.”
“Spits.” Soarin was shaking his head. “I think that common room is the kitchen.”
“Well, maybe you’re wrong, and if you’re not, we’ll just make do.”
“You’re getting rid of me.” Rainbow tilted her head. “But yeah, sure. Ma’am.”
“Fly, little Wonderbolt.” Spitfire didn’t even look up, just waved her hoof at the door. Judging by the look on his face, like he’d abruptly realized he was chewing on a lemon seed, Soarin was just now processing what it meant to not have an oven.
Out in the hallway, Rainbow suddenly thought of something. “Hey. What’re—"
But Spitfire’s door was firmly shut again, and Dash didn’t relish the thought of interrupting her again to ask what they were going to do with the feather.
A shot went off in her ear that sounded much like Pinkie’s party cannon. Her heart leapt with surprise, and when she could see straight again, she faced a posing Discord, who was surrounded by the last of the falling confetti.
“~I’m here~!”
“I can see that,” Rainbow deadpanned. “The question is why?”
“You’re going exploring,” Discord pointed at her, then at himself, “and I need to start collecting souvenirs, which is basically the same thing.”
“Fine. Race you to the top?”
Neither waited for a counter. Both streaked off, Discord suddenly sporting puffy balloon wings and a gray-white trail to match Dash’s colorful one. They narrowly missed running over Misty Fly in the hallway, but were gone before her mouth could open to yell at them.
“What was that, seven seconds?” Rainbow screeched to a halt.
“Nine,” Discord retorted. “You forgot the part where we didn’t know where the stairs were. I had to use my implanted navigational compass.”
“You mean your brain?”
“Of course not.”
Discord hummed to himself as he floated through the air. Every now and then he mumbled nonsense and chuckled to himself, but Rainbow only caught snatches of words like “pony disguises are the worst,” “hippocrag buildings are so not cool,” and notably often, “Fluttershy.”
She tried to tune him out.
They were in an attic of sorts. There were rooms, but they were few – there were more bare storage closets than anything.
“It’s dark up here,” Discord said, suddenly mere inches from her, examining the same empty room she was. Rainbow startled.
“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Maybe I’ve just been in Equestria too long – but this feels really different.”
“Dark, dim, slightly creepy, with a hint of danger?” He gave her an unimpressed look. “Clearly you haven’t been in Celestia’s castles.”
“Hello.”
“Clearly you have. I mean, you know I know that. But I mean the deep parts of her castle, you know?”
“No, I mean, hello.” Rainbow pointed.
Discord joined her at the window. She was silent now, staring intently into the dim white sky.
From the distance, motion indicated that something was coming. It looked like a pack of somethings, but Rainbow corrected herself instantly. No. A team of someones.
There were seven, and at first they looked like huge birds gliding through the sky. As they descended and came closer, their shapes became distinct. Rainbow recognized the hooked beaks, the nearly translucent manes. The long, slightly bowed wings.
“The hippocrags,” Dash muttered.
Discord shot her a well, duh look but she barely saw him. Her gaze was fixed above, sharp eyes now making out the small nuances between the flyers.
They did look like Equestria’s hippogriffs. They were just as lean, but shaggier in the coat, with fetlock feathers reaching up the entire leg. Still, they flew with such sleekness that they seemed to simply materialize out of the mist and pass through it without disturbing any air. All seven had gray coats, the darkest still so light that he could pass for a stormcloud.
They came closer, closer, and closer, until they were directly overhead. They were so close that Dash could see the pale yellow talons tucked neatly beneath their bodies, the same color as their beaks. She could see the power in those outstretched wings, holding the hippocrags aloft in their glide.
She knew that power. She knew what that power meant.
“Shoot,” Rainbow murmured.
The leading flyer let out a sweet-sounding whistle, and the hippocrags changed course seamlessly. They curved away, their pace taking them gradually into the opposite distance.
They faded. The mist wrapped them into obscurity as if with wings of its own.
Only the sunless sky remained overhead.
Dash shook herself. She’d stared after the competition long enough.
Reflexively, after so much looking up, she glanced down – and her eye happened to snag on another domed roof. If she leaned further out the window, she could see the shape of another building joined to their house.
“Huh.” She peered at it. “I think I found the showers.”
“Is that all?” Discord lifted his bushy eyebrows.
“I’ll make sure,” Dash talked over him, and before the last word left her lips, she took off out the window. She stretched her wings wide as she arced straight down.
Discord sighed loudly into the empty room, preparing his claw for another Snap.
“For a second there, I thought you’d seen something interesting…”
Author's Note
So it begins!
--
Crosswind and Sky Sparks are "Pompadoured Future Wonderbolt" and "Swishy Haired Future Wonderbolt" respectively, pictured on the left here (https://www.deviantart.com/mdwyer5/art/MLP-Future-Wonderbolts-880258675).