Glorified

The routine was totally locked down by our above-average performers, and the week of practice had Pigeonhole doing basic turns and Monsoon leveling up as a whole. They weren’t the best at their routines, but they were better at it than the hard worker group who hadn’t focused on anything technical this week at all.

Dad met me at the barracks just after we were released from practice. “Hey, buddy. How was your day?”

I was still in my uniform and in need of a shower, but it’d been alright. “The Captain has been having me train a couple of ponies on the team this week and they’ve improved a lot.”

He smiled a bit, rubbing his chin. “Good, good. Guess she realized you have a lot of experience training already, huh?”

“Yeah. She’s… not so bad.”

His brows lowered. “Oh? What happened?”

The others were starting to land nearby, so I started into the barracks. “We talked about Grandpa and Sweet Wing.”

His face soured. “Oh.” Didn’t seem to like that. “What did you say?”

I shrugged as we walked to my room. “Just what happened. This was the Monday right after I got back. I needed to say something to somepony, and she offered to listen.”

Dad scratched at his forehead. “Guess I can’t really fault you for it.” He took a seat on my bed and crossed his forelegs thinking. “Are you having a better time here now?”

Am I? It’s not as much of a chore as it was last week. Monsoon and Pigeonhole are nice, too. But then again, we’re supposed to rotate next week. “Probably. Working with my two guys is a lot easier than the whole team since about half of them have it out for me. There are at least a couple ponies here who I beat all through school and they hate me.”

Dad closed his eyes, trying to remember. “Yeah, I knew I recognized a couple of them. The dark mare and the pale thin stallion. They fought over second and third in the bigger high school competitions, but they were never close on performances. Speaking of, your first show is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How’s that going?”

Typhoon and Nightingale almost got into a fight again today. Spitfire is actually going to fire them next time they do. “Like, we know the routine, but our two best guys hate each other and they’re both divas.”

Dad chuckled. “Sounds like Dash and that Lightning Dust mare. Spitfire threatened to throw them both out and Lightning Dust ended up moving to Las Pegasus when her contract was up for renewal. Wouldn’t be surprised if one of your guys isn’t here next year.”

“I know who I’d vote off the island, but that’s not really up to me, I guess.”

“It could be if you complained about it.”

“No…” I finished getting the suit off and hopped into my shower. “I don’t really wanna rock the boat, and as much of an ass as he is, he’s really good at this. Performances are probably my weakest area, and I think he just kinda blows me out of the water here.”

“That’s pretty high praise from you. What makes you think you’re not a great performer, buddy?”

I don’t really think I’m even that bad at it. Those guys are just something else. “I don’t know. They’re just, like, really talented. I haven’t talked to them much, but I think they have something I don’t. They can really draw you in, ya know? Cheesette called one of them a pretty boy!”

Dad laughed out loud. “Goddess, you are your mother’s son.”

It still bothers me. It’s not like I can’t tell dude is attractive, but he’s such an ass though.

“I mean, looks-wise, the Wonderbolts are very fit and well maintained. On stage, on TV, on the internet. Ability can take you far, but it would be a lie to say that’s the only consideration that goes into picking ponies. Your mom would kill me if she heard this, but you’ve seen that Trade Wind mare, right?”

Not as much as I’d like to. “Dad, I need all my blood in the right places to perform.”

“Ha!”

“Besides, Cheesette would kill her and then me. Can’t be thinking things like that, she’ll know.”

“Fair, fair.”

Finally clean, I hopped out and shook myself dry before wiping down with a towel. Of our three mares, Trade Wind is the hot one, Monsoon is the cute one, and Tropical Storm is the angry one. Wouldn’t be surprised to see Trade Wind with a Thunderaid sponsorship with the way she’s been campaigning about streaming and filming all our stuff. She could probably drop the Wonderbolts entirely and just go directly to Struck Company, but she definitely likes to be in the spotlight. Another diva.

I stepped out of my bathroom and Dad stood up. “Dad, how do you manage so many ponies with such big egos? I haven’t really had to deal with the guys that hate me yet, but eventually, it’s gonna be their turn…”

He opened the door and I followed him out of my room. “I know it’s not really in your nature, but you’ve gotta assert your authority in those situations. If the Captain has you training ponies by yourself, she made you, like, vice captain or something right?”

I’d kinda forgotten about that. “She did.”

We headed out of the hallway. “Then that means you are above your peers and you have to help lead the team. Be a stallion, speak directly. You don’t have to be mean about it or anything, but you’ve got to rise to challenges and make sure ponies know their place, and if they don’t like it, they can take it up with Captain Spitfire, which in and of itself may be enough to keep ponies in line.”

“I sure hope so.”

Dad patted my shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.” We made it out of the barracks and now it was time to go to Grandpa’s house. He grimaced. “This, on the other hoof…” He shivered.

“Yeah…”

“Let’s get it over with.”

We took off at a leisurely pace, neither of us really wanting to do what needed to be done next. The sky city was busy today with pegasi getting off work going this way and that, everypony flocking to the bar districts or heading home. The evening sky was filled with colorful ponies, no two the same with everypony’s flight skill being average or lower. As much as he likes to say it was working all the time that made him this way, Pigeonhole definitely flies better than a majority of ponies, even if it is limited to straight lines. Thousands of ponies, hundreds of highschools, a hoofful of Wonderbolts…

Spitfire never did find anypony with Grandpa’s name on the roster, and there were only drawings and paintings of ponies who would’ve been from his era. Was he really ever a Wonderbolt? And if he was, why can’t we find his name on the roster? I’ve always thought he flew well enough to be one.

As we approached, I could see the lights on inside the house, and weirdly, an old mare standing outside. At first I thought it was Sweet Wing, but as we got closer, I realized it was Grandma Downy.

“Mom?” Dad called.

Her ears shot up, and she found us in the sky. She had her purse and a cloudwalk band on her neck. How did she get up here? “Hey, kiddo.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren’t going to come.”

My old grandma put a hoof on her cheek. “Well, I wasn’t, initially, but Sweet Wing went out of her way to visit me yesterday. We talked. I figured it’d be for the best if I did come after all.” She came and put a hoof around me. “Don’t want to make a fuss at your wedding next weekend, and if you’re gonna be here being a Wonderbolt and all, you ought to see your grandfather while you still have him.”

Dad rubbed his beard. “Sweet Wing went to see you?”

Grandma rolled her eyes. “I know, I was shocked too. Always thought she hated me for stealing him away from her the first time and then running out on him afterward. That doesn’t seem to be the case, though.” There was more than words in the way her eyes sank to the clouds. She patted it with her hoof, confirming that she didn’t sink through it. “Technology sure is amazing, isn’t it? Never thought I’d get the chance to come up here.”

“How are you getting home? It’s kinda late, and the balloons stop running after eight.”

“Oh, I’m not going home tonight. Prism has his first show at the arena tomorrow, right? I figured I might as well see it since I’m here.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it starts at noon.”

“Good. Two pegasi, one arrow!” She laughed, Dad laughed uncomfortably, and I silently contemplated how morbid that old earth pony saying is. Old habits die hard.

The door to Grandpa’s house opened and Sweet Wing came out. It was even more striking to see them side by side. They could’ve been sisters. “Thank you all for coming.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Grandma said. “Where is the old buzzard anyways?”

Sweet Wing frowned, looking irritatedly at the house. “Hiding away in his room. I’ve done what I could, but I can’t guarantee he’ll say anything tonight.”

Grandma rolled her eyes again. “Oh, this nonsense again.” She marched into the house and yelled, “Hang Glider, you old coward, what are you hiding away for? Can’t face an old mare half your size?”

“What are you doing in my house!?” The response was immediate. ”How did you even get up here? Moles don’t have wings!”

We all shared a look and followed her inside. She’d already located him standing in front of his door with a mean smile on her face. I didn’t really think about this, but I probably should’ve known this is how it was going to go.

“Magic has come a long way since you and I were kids! I’ll be here forever if you don’t get out of there and come talk to our son!”

Rushed rustling behind the door before it flung open. Grandpa looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His old stallion wrinkles were deeper, his feathers were out of place, his mane was going every which way and only vaguely in his normal superhero quaff, and the gray of it had gotten a lot whiter since I last saw him. He stared at Grandma in disbelief as she smiled with pure malice right back at him.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Hang?”

Grandpa looked like he could’ve collapsed. “You’re… you’re really…” He reached out for her, and she met his hoof.

“That’s right. Here in the flesh. Disgrace of the Snows, Downy.”

And then he did collapse, his hind legs sliding out from under him and his wings splaying out. Sweet Wing flew to him. “Hang!? Hang Glider, are you alright?”

He latched onto her like she was the only solid thing in the world. “How could I be? I’m seeing a ghost, Sweet.” He looked at Dad, and then at me, with this vacant, lost look in his eyes.

Grandma sat down in front of him. “Well, I ain’t dead yet, so don’t go calling me a ghost.”

“But I looked everywhere for you!” Grandpa blurted. “I spent months flying to every city I could think of trying to get you to come home but I… I… I ran out of cities…”

She frowned, turning away. “I didn’t go to a city, Hang. I got lost to make sure you moved back up here. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to see Soarin fly.”

The old stallion slowly looked up at her like he’d never seen her before. “You… you left for that? You tore our lives in half just to… just to force him into being a Wonderbolt?”

Dad stepped in. “Nopony forced me into doing anything, Dad. It was my choice to become a Wonderbolt.”

“But that was it, wasn’t it!? All of you with your obsession of that abusive flying cult! What’s it worth? Why throw your lives away for some indifferent meat grinder of an organization?”

Sweet Wing came around to face him. “Why is it you think the Wonderbolts are like that? I watched you enter the academy, I watched you accept your position, and one day you just disappeared! What happened, Hang?”

“I know I’ve only been one for two weeks now, but Grandpa, it really isn’t like that.”

He looked at all of us like he didn’t know us. “None of you, none of you understand!”

Grandma stood up to face him. “That’s right, Hang. We don’t. If you want us to understand, you have to explain it.” She turned to look at Dad. “And I don’t know if you know this, but that boy right there has never given up on getting answers out of anypony. So if you want me, or any of this to go away, you have to tell us. And if you don’t, we’ll be back again and again and again. We’ll haunt you worse than any nightmare you’ve ever had.”

“You’re nothing but a vengeful spirit as it is! Begone, all of you! This is my house, you don’t have the right to interrogate me!” There was a hint of crazy in Grandpa now and I was getting flashbacks to when we broke Mom a few years back with Haze.

“Hang Glider, if I leave now, I will not come back,” Sweet Wing announced.

He was on his knees in a second. “Oh, Sweet, please, don’t go! Not you, never you! I need you here, with me! Isn’t that what we promised?”

“This is not the kind of sickness I promised to stand by you for.”

“C-come now, Sweet, what about this is sick? Why should I tell them anything, what do they have to do with you?”

She broke with him, absolutely furious now. “Did I not spend ten years raising Soarin with you? Was I not there for his wedding? Did I not see both his children shortly after they were born? Have I not been there for a majority of their lives? Explain to me exactly why I have nothing to do with them, Hang!”

He crawled after her. “Sweet Wing, darling, please, you know that’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, no, Hang.” Grandma stepped in. “It may not be what you meant, but it is what you believe. You, like your son, put her in a separate box, as if she’s unrelated to anything concerning your pasts.”

Dad cringed. Grandpa’s face fell. Sweet Wing bit her lip, turning down.

Grandma found a seat on the couch in front of the TV. “Let me tell you something, Hang; this stubbornness of yours is what drove me away in the first place.”

“Stubbornness!? You’re one to talk! You never budged on anything!”

She shrugged. “You’re right. I didn’t budge, ever. But I didn’t ask much of you either. All I wanted out of you was to be Soarin’s father and teach him how to fly, but back when we were together, and even after I left, it doesn’t seem to me like you ever filled either of those roles.”

A vein bubbled on Grandpa’s forehead. “Never his father!? I was the one who kept him! I fed him, put him through school, never forced him to be anything! I was always there for my son no matter what he did! What about that discounts me from being his father!? Who are you to say anything about being a parent to anypony!?”

Totally unphased, Grandma tilted her head. “You know what words are missing from all that, Hang?”

The old stallion was practically a whole new shade of red now. “What!?”

“‘Want.’ You were there, but unlike a real father, you didn’t cheer him on, you didn’t support him, you never asked about him. From what I hear, when Soarin did tell you what he wanted to be, you kept your hooves off entirely. You treated him like a stranger you had to keep. The same way you treated me. The same way you’ve been treating Sweet Wing.”

He could’ve been hit with a brick and been less stunned. Looking at all of us, Grandpa stammered, “Th-that’s not true! Wh-why would I still be here, even entertaining this charade that I didn’t care about you all?” Nopony met his eyes. Grandpa sank. “That’s not… that’s not what you believe, is it? Sweet, Soarin?”

Without even looking at each other, Dad and Sweet Wing said, “There are times I wondered…” They caught each other’s eyes and looked away, ashamed.

Grandma threw a hoof out. “Well, would ya look at that! The ponies closest to you are unsure whether you ever cared about them. Lightning doesn’t strike in the same place twice, Hang. If you’re capable of love somewhere in that old buzzard heart of yours, you’re piss poor at showing it.”

Grandpa slammed a hoof into the floor. “Then what was I supposed to do!? Smother everypony? Berate you all at every turn out of concern!? Note every mistake, command your respect, put you in a place below me and drag you along whether you wanted to come or not!? What about that is love? What kind of father does that to his family?”

In spite of how bad everypony else was feeling, Grandma looked like she was enjoying this. “Oh, now that’s interesting. Is that what love looks like to you, Hang? Who’d you learn that from?”

With the deepest bitter frown on his face, Grandpa again looked at everypony else. At Dad, the frown remained hard. At Sweet Wing, it softened a bit. At me, it fell away and turned toward the kitchen. “I need a drink.”

Grandma got up and followed him. “That sounds lovely. Don’t they have some fancy wine made with rainbows around here? I’ll take some of that, Hang.”

“I don’t remember you liking spicy flavors very much.”

“I’m on vacation, might as well try the local specialties.”

Grandpa groaned and went digging in his cupboards.

Smiling, Grandma waved us to the table. While I wasn’t completely sure, I think Grandma just hit the root of Grandpa’s problem, and now that it’s out there, he has no choice but to talk about it. Dad is the kind of person to say ‘there are things we don’t say’ and so are all the other adults in the room. Grandma, however, is the kind of person who will say anything, no matter how ugly it is. Without that, I bet this would've been resolved in a very different way. Sweet Wing probably knew that, too, which is why she wanted Grandma here—like the carpenter she is, a hammer in search of a nail. Whether it’s a nail or a baby, she strikes.

Rainbows are a liquid infused with pegasus magic over years of moving through the water cycle until finally, they begin to glow. They can be made artificially by pouring fresh water through specifically made clouds and then scattered in the sky to form a rainbow wherever the scatterer desires. It takes decades of processing to actually make the kind of rainbow that forms naturally in the sky, and here in Cloudsdale, rainbows are used in performances, festivals, and on special occasions such as birthdays and national holidays.

Aged pegasus magic works a lot like alcohol when it hits the bloodstream, acting like a magic crystal that unicorns can make to serve as batteries for things. It basically gets you high and is considered illegal during competitions. When mixed with actual alcohol, the effect is doubled. It’s a controlled substance as far as the government is concerned and only allowed to be drunk indoors.

Grandma was a big fan. “Goddess among us, this burns something strong! Why’ve I never had this stuff before?”

“Because it’s illegal in most places,” Grandpa noted, holding his little shot glass full of glowing rainbow drink. “Lot’s of pegasi here are alcoholics. Rainbow wine is hard to get a hold of on top of being expensive to make. You shouldn’t drink much if it isn’t diluted.”

Grandma slid her shot glass toward him. “Well, I’m an alcoholic too, give me another one.”

“Well, yours is a funeral I’d be happy to attend. Have as much as you like.” And he poured her another shot. He looked lazily at the rest of us, clearly feeling the wine. “You want any of this?”

Dad rubbed at his forehead. “Yeah, sure Dad.”

“I’ll take one, Hang,” Sweet Wing said.

Grandpa poured two full shots for them and a half shot for me. “Uh, Grandpa—”

He poured himself a second shot. “No, no, this is your culture. Just try it, it’s just a sip. You’re getting married in a week or two right? Congratulations. To the new Wonderbolt.”

He held up his shot and Grandma clinked his glass and they both drank. Slowly, the rest of us followed suit. It was like sweet hot sauce. It almost numbed your tongue a bit as it went down, and it burned everything it touched. Like grapes and peppers mashed together in a thick smooth liquid that coated your whole mouth. Even as it went down, I could feel it igniting my stomach.

I hacked and coughed and Grandma patted my back. “That your first shot, kiddo?”

Surprisingly, the burning subsided quickly. “Y-yeah.” I coughed again. “I… feel kinda funny?” There was little tingle everywhere the alcohol had touched, and my head was buzzing a bit, like an electric current was running through me.

“Some of us get addicted to ‘feeling funny,’ Prism,” Grandpa said, getting up to put the bottle away. “‘Feeling funny’ helps us deal with bad things. Makes it easier to talk. Loosens the jaw.” He put his hooves on the table. “I have… a confession to make.”

Sweet Wing put a hoof on his shoulder. “A confession, Hang? About what?”

He put his hoof on hers and kissed it tenderly. Nopony, especially not Sweet Wing, was prepared for that, but he ignored the reactions. “Hang Glider is not my only name.”

Dad blinked. “Not where I thought this was going. You’re not about to tell me you have a secret second family or something, are you?”

Grandpa shook his head. “Oh, no, I’m from the secret second family, Soarin.”

Dad stared at him for a moment, then looked at the shot glass, disappointed that it was empty. “That’s a new one.”

“No, Soarin, it’s an old one. Where to even begin…?”

“How about at the beginning, Hang?” Grandma said.

He shook his head. “Sure, why not. Destiny is a rather cruel thing. Legacy too, for that matter. Your family has a rather long history, boys. I figured I’d take this to my grave, but did you know that every one of your forefathers have been Wonderbolts?”

“Huh?”

Grandpa nodded. “My father, his father, every father before him. Hang Glider is the name my mother gave me, but my father? His name was Gladius Hurricane.”

Dad and Grandma’s eyes could’ve popped out of their heads. Dad looked to be in great pain, too. “Dad, can you bring the bottle back?”

“You can get it, I’ll kill myself on it if it stays on the table.”

Grandma cackled. “And here, my parents were furious because you were a pegasus! They might’ve tried to crucify you if they knew about that, ha ha!”

“They wouldn’t be the only ones, nopony was a fan of him. Except for me, I suppose.”

“Wait.” I raised a hoof. “Who is that?”

Dad groaned. “First off, he was a Wonderbolt from a few generations ago. Notorious for trying to make sure everypony was up to his standards. He was easily the best of his generation, and hated by just about everypony. Because he ended up in a leadership position, the whole organization had to be reformed. Secondly, and I’m really hoping this is some kind of cruel joke, he was the last known descendant of Commander Hurricane. You know, the ancient hero of Cloudsdale.” Dad filled himself another shot, drank it, shivered, and then put the bottle away, leaving the shot glass on the counter. “Gotta get home today. Gonna be difficult.”

“Flying drunk gets ponies killed, Soarin. You’ve got a room here,” Grandpa offered.

Dad sat down, not sure what to make of that. “Alright, Dad…”

“If he was so good, why did ponies hate him?” I asked.

Grandpa laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, you could say that Gladius was a terrible stallion and not be close enough to the truth. He was a tyrant. Ruthless. Ran the Wonderbolts like his own personal army doing whatever it was he wanted them to. Rules had to be put in place, and the government eventually had to step in and strip him of his titles, leaving him in disgrace. In his last middle feather to the city that’d scorned him, he deliberately went supersonic next to the city, and ended up breaking his wing as he careened down into abyssal lake. His body never surfaced, and no pony cared to look for it either.”

Goddess. “That’s awful!”

Grandpa chuckled into his shot glass, just as red as he’d been when he was angry. “Bah, he had it coming. It wasn’t near as important then but he still destroyed the city’s power grid. No lights at night for a month after that. We recovered from that one about a decade or so ago a whole lot faster.”

“Hang, how did you find out about this?” Sweet Wing asked.

The old stallion leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling light. “I’d always known. Mom told me who he was. She’d been a hostess at a bar that was popular with the Wonderbolts at the time. It had one of the first radios and the first record players the sky city had ever seen. She was as down bad as any young girl was for the hotshot Wonderbolt captain and she got exactly what she wanted from him: me.”

“She wanted you, Grandpa?”

“Yep.” He put a hoof under his chin. “In the old days, being a Wonderbolt was your ticket to celebrity around here. Fame, wealth, mares. They were the glory of Cloudsdale, what the Princess asked to see when she’d visit or even request them to go to her. Our races were what all the news talked about, our performances were the main attraction of the city. The mascots, the idols, the heroes of Cloudsdale, and only so many ponies had the ability to get in. One’s family also benefited greatly from having a Wonderbolt for a son, as it was near unheard of for mares to be let in back then, and I was the son of not only an accomplished Wonderbolt, but part of the Hurricane line. It was my destiny to be a Wonderbolt, you see.”

“What was her name?” Dad asked.

“Cherry Knot,” Grandpa said, letting his eyes fall to the table. “She was just any old whore though. Brought a different stallion home every month. Eventually lost track of the number of them I saw come through our little apartment. We never wanted for money, but when she wasn’t ‘working,’ we were flying. Night and day, improve my times, chase every goal, win every race. I’d hide from her when I was little while I could. She would always find me, beat me, and threaten me with more beatings if I didn’t go back outside and practice. I was happy to go to school just to get away from her.”

Grandpa slapped his flank. “But even that wouldn’t last. I had a talent for catching wind currents. Just like everyone before, and even the two after me, I’d been born to be a Wonderbolt. Because things were different back then, once I’d finished the 8th grade, she took me to meet my father. Gladius was less than receptive to some old redlight mare he’d shtupped a decade and a half ago telling him he had a responsibility to make me a Wonderbolt. Of course, it was around this time that he was losing favor in the Bolts and he’d figured that he could use some fresh blood to get his name back in higher regard.

“If my mother was a slave driver, my father was a slave master. I was, quite literally, whipped for failures. He had total control and nopony had the power to do anything against him as the head trainer at the time, so he did whatever he wanted to make us improve. It sure did work, I suppose. Speed was never my best quality, but my ability to maneuver and find the fastest way away from him actually earned me some respect.”

He turned to Sweet Wing, a disinterested look on his face. “You wanna know why I entered the academy, Sweet?”

Her pity and her patience were fighting for a place on her face. One was at a new high and the other was worn very thin. “That’s why we’re here, aren’t we, Hang?”

Grandpa rolled his eyes away from her. “It was so I could get away from them. Mother left me alone, while Father had the real Wonderbolts to work with. For a single moment, I was free of them both. But what was the academy but the same ponies who’d trained with Gladius trying to reach his standards? There was no end to the punishment, no end to the suffering. At least, it was easier in the academy than under Gladius because I wasn’t alone with any of the trainers. I did well enough that I was fed consistently. More ponies dropped out than passed the final exam. I just didn’t have the luxury of anywhere else to go.”

“Hang, why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Sweet Wing asked.

He stared a hole through her. “Would you have believed me before the reforms were passed?”

She fell away from it and sighed. “Probably not.”

“Uh, what were the reforms?” I asked.

Dad stroked his chin. “About sixty some odd years ago, the Wonderbolts came under Cloudsdale city’s oversight, and eventually under the Equestrian government’s oversight. They’d been operating on their own as a sort of city-wide tourist attraction and military training center for pegasi, but as time went on, the abuse trainees suffered started to taint the Bolts' reputation. The Princess wanted the rumors looked into and Cloudsdale didn’t want her oversight here. The city doesn’t take up land and it provided weather control, so it hardly paid any kind of taxes to the crown. If she came in and asserted her authority, the economy here would tank, as it eventually did.

“Before that eventuality came down, Cloudsdale tried to do it on its own and take power away from the Bolts by passing laws. This had worked until Gladius was completely pushed out and retaliated with his sonic boom. Then the crown stepped in. Cloudsdale got power, oversight, and taxes, sending the economy into a tailspin for about a decade. The city didn’t recover until the Wonderbolts became more like a roaming troupe and began holding performances in other cities. The proceeds helped fund the city, bring in new residents and Wonderbolt hopefuls”

Grandpa narrowed his eyes at Dad. “Why do you know all that?”

“Didn’t I tell you that I teach history now?”

“Maybe you did…” The old stallion rubbed his chin. “Well, that’s the overview of it I suppose. At the time, trials were held and old Wonderbolts were either put away for their abuses, some of which were particularly foul, and others managed to get away with their misdeeds because somepony needed to teach a new group how to bring up new Wonderbolts. The city couldn’t afford to lose its main draw, so Gladius got away with most of it. I’m sure I’ve got a dozen or so half siblings somewhere in this city, and it’s a wonder how many of their mothers were told they could be Wonderbolts if they did what Gladius wanted.”

I gagged. “Gross.”

“That was Gladius for ya.” He turned to Dad. “I can’t say I was ever happy that you joined the Wonderbolts, but you made me proud when you broke the last record he had standing.”

“Oh… well, thanks Dad.” Dad smiled a bit, but then lifted his head. “Wait, which one was that?”

Grandpa spun his hoof in a circle a dozen times. “Your 500 record. Gladius used to have the all-time high of 1100 laps on that thing. I was sure somepony had threatened you into it or something, but I was even more happy that his name would be gone forever after that.”

Dad clapped his hooves. “Oh, that. No, that was a bet with Dash.” He smiled and put a hoof on my shoulder. “That’s how you were born!”

I cringed. “Why would you tell me that?”

Grandma cackled. “Anything for that rainbow tail, huh? A menace, that’s what you are.”

I feel violated.

“Hang,” Grandma continued, “if you were there for the worst of them and then the reforms, what landed you in Trottingham?”

Grandpa sighed and rested his cheek on his hoof. “Ponies knew whose son I was. If I’d gotten his orange mane, I’d look as much like him as you do Sweet Wing. I got kicked out.”

She couldn’t believe it. “You? Kicked out? What for?”

He shrugged. “The official statement was that I’d only gotten in in the first place because of my relation to Gladius. I was more than happy to go, mind you.” Then he leaned over wearily and held his head with his hoof. “Of course, I eventually had to tell my mother what happened and she kicked me out too. ‘What was even the point of you if you aren’t a Wonderbolt?’ she said. I… don’t know why I thought she’d take me back. I guess I just expected her to. That’s what family is supposed to do, isn’t it? She was always an awful, selfish, old whore, but she was my mother, wasn’t she? I suppose she wasn’t.”

Grandma covered her mouth. “Goddess, Hang.”

He chuckled. “She hadn’t been in my life much either.” His eyes drifted up to the past. “While I was looking for a place to sleep that night, I found a poster with an ad for weather ponies. Anypony with decent wings and a decent understanding of the weather was welcome. Advance pay for those willing to move. There were a couple cities on the ad and I rolled a die. Didn’t matter where I went, just that I could get away from… here.”

Grandpa looked between the two mares. “I’d been in Trottingham for a few weeks when I first met Downy. I thought Sweet Wing had followed me somehow. I was floored to see her, but I quickly found out that you two are about opposites in personality for as similar as you looked.”

Grandma chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Sweet Wing rubbed her forehead. “You’re telling me.”

I raised my hoof. “I have a question.”

Grandpa lowered his brows at me but then pointed a hoof. “Shoot, buddy.”

I motioned to him and Sweet Wing. “How did you two meet? I feel like this is kinda important, but she’s been mentioned off-hoof like a building that’s always in the background that everypony knows.”

Sweet Wing covered her face. “That’s a painfully blunt observation, Prism.”

Dad put a hoof on my shoulder. “It’s been a while, but buddy, phrasing.”

Goddess, even I treat my own step-grandma like a background character. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s always been like this,” she said, clearly not fine with it. The old mare was practically on the verge of tears.

Grandpa put a wing around her. “It’s not fine. I’m sorry, I do this to you too.” Sighing and holding his wife, Grandpa drifted back. “We went to school together. Was one of the few times I was free from my mother, that I had the chance to be a normal child for a while. High school wasn’t mandatory back then, so I knew I didn’t have long, but I tried to be friends with the ponies I met there. But, unlike a majority of them, I wasn’t a normal kid. I didn’t know how to interact with ponies at all. I could fly and I could race, but I didn’t know anything else.

“Sweet Wing was nice to everypony. A meek, pretty little thing, but not somepony to stand out. Outshined and left behind by brighter personalities and talents around her. Every pony would forget she was there, and since I was never invited to anything, we were always left alone together. She treated me with respect and wanted to be my friend. She was somepony who would give me the time of day at all, so I attached myself to her.

“I wasn’t a very talkative kid so she would talk and I would listen. Her life felt like a fantasy to me, something so… utterly foreign to my own upbringing that I felt like I might taint it somehow if I was ever too involved with it. I kept information to strict reports and just said what was going on. I’m sure there were cracks in my facade, but I didn’t want to ruin the appearance of being ‘normal’ around her.”

Sweet Wing then cozied up to him. “I always wanted to know what was going on with him, but one day I found bruises on him and he clammed up after that. I couldn’t imagine what it was like and I wanted to help him somehow, but I didn’t know anything. Outside the few in the Wonderbolts, the inner workings of the group were totally unknown to the public, much less to kids who might one day be aiming for them. On top of being a mare, I wasn’t much of a strong flier either, so I couldn’t chase after him. I decided to go into nursing in the first place because I wanted to help him, but in the end… he never did open up to me. I thought it was a good thing that he was going into the academy, I thought it was a good thing he was going to be a Wonderbolt, and then, all the sudden, I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

Grandpa took his wing back and leaned over the table. “I didn’t want to drag her away from her family and everything she had here. An older and younger sister, one of which still lives around Cloudsdale and has her own family. Friends that were just as normal as she was, not plagued with my problems.” He shook his head. “Wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to be telling ponies I was leaving.”

Grandma rubbed her chin. “That sure does explain why you were so clingy. Since you’re being so honest today, what did you see in me, Hang? I might’ve been an airheaded little teenager back then, but I can’t say my personality has changed much.”

He motioned to the two mirror-like old mares. “Well, clearly, there’s a trend here.” Then he stared Grandma down for a long moment before letting his eyes fall back to the table. “But, the terrible truth is that you reminded me of my mother.”

She slapped her knee. “Ha! That’s what I thought. Mare must’ve been just as horrible as you tell it for that to be true. Ha ha!”

“Downy, please.” Sweet Wing reached out. “You’re not that bad.”

Surprised, Grandpa turned to her. “What? Did you meet her?”

Sweet Wing put her hooves together on the table. “I couldn’t chase you, but I knew how to gather information. I found you on the hospital’s medical records. She’d been listed as your next of kin, and I went to see her.” Her eyes went wide and she let out a breath. “It wasn’t a very pleasant meeting.”

“No,” Grandpa went on. “It’s hard to imagine anypony could be as bad as Cherry Knot was. No matter how demanding or angry Downy would get with me, there was never any violence and we… usually worked things out.”

Dad rubbed his temples in pain. “Goddess, it’s not any better hearing it from the other side.”

Didn’t Grandma say that Sweet Wing came to see them at one point after Dad was born? How did that happen if he never told anypony? “So, wait, how did you ever meet Sweet Wing again?”

“Hold on, let me guess.” Grandma put a hoof up. “I went to see my parents after we found out about Soarin the first time, and they said they would be fine with me returning so long as he was the right race. When that didn’t happen, neither of us knew anything about having pegasi kids and I needed information. Only so many ponies on the weather team were married, let alone had kids, so I asked him to go see his mother, not knowing any of this. It was then, wasn’t it?”

Sweet Wing nodded. “I was on my lunch break when I saw him fly past the hospital. I chased him down and asked him what had happened and where he’d gone and then he… in his very dry way, told me. I’d helped deliver a number of foals at that point so I knew a lot on the subject and told him what I could, but I was… I want to say 'devastated,' but that doesn’t feel like a strong enough word…”

Grandma shook her head. “No, it’s two words you want. 'Heart broken.'” She turned to Grandpa. “And here I thought you’d actually gotten your mother’s advice.”

Grandpa chuckled. “Oh, no, she only entertained me long enough to hear what had happened, then she shoved me right back out as soon as she knew. Can’t imagine she would’ve had much advice to give in the first place based on my upbringing.”

“Figures,” Grandma spat. She pointed a hoof at me. “Hope you realize how good you’ve got it, kiddo. The steps that got you here weren’t exactly pictures out of a story book.”

I raised my hooves in defense. “Yeah, I definitely know that.” I hugged Dad. “I had a great childhood and I’m very thankful for that.”

“Good.” Then, she turned on Sweet Wing. “It took you eight years to work up the courage to come see him again after that?”

The old pegasus mare held her head. “What was I supposed to do? I had a career and friends, and I couldn’t just disappear to chase after him, especially after he’d told me he’d gotten married and was having a kid!”

Dad lowered his muzzle. “But you eventually did. Why?”

It was a lot more of a pointed question, but I would bet he meant it. Thinking about what Grandma told us a few years back, meeting Sweet Wing was what finally made her cut ties with Grandpa, tearing Dad’s world in half.

Ashamed, her face fell. “Oh, you know why, don’t you? I couldn’t let go. I was worried all the time and I could never get him off my mind. I never met anypony else. I felt like I needed to see him again just to… to put those feelings away, forever.”

Mixed feelings fought for a place on Dad’s face. He didn’t seem satisfied with that but didn’t ask any more questions either.

Grandma clapped her hooves. “Well, I think that about answers any lingering questions anypony may have. Hang was traumatized as a kid because of the Wonderbolts and I suppose he has every right to be. Not that he should be pushing those fears onto either of you.” Then she offered Dad a hoof. “Chin up a bit, kiddo. At least Sweet Wing loves your father.” Staring at Grandpa for a while, she rubbed her chin. “Maybe in the heat of the moment when I was young, but I doubt we would’ve lasted this long together.”

Spite painted on his face, Grandpa got up. “You didn’t see fit to give it a chance, so I suppose we wouldn’t have. Not that it matters now. I’m going to order a pizza. Anypony want some?”

Grandma gave him a toothy smile. “Sure, Hang. The boys and I would love to have a pizza with you.”

The story was in the air now, but so was a thick veil of tension. I was still feeling the tingle of that rainbow shot, but that didn’t make the simmering hostility between Dad and the elders in the room any easier to bear. Dinner was fairly quiet with Grandma doing all the talking, at least trying to liven up the room. In the end, she never did. After helping her into a late sky taxi and making sure she got to her hotel, I flew back to the barracks. If nothing else, at least I can be sure they won’t be fighting at my wedding.