Skycloud

Thundermach awoke to a massive, pounding headache.  He moaned, lifting his head and sitting upright.  He was in his bed.  The fur on his back was drenched in sweat, and everything else above his hooves felt so hot it could melt.  He got up, wobbling and fumbling around, his vision and memory of the previous night a complete blur.  He could hardly see now, even when he squinted.  The morning light seemed ten times brighter than usual, and caused a dull ache to top the after-effects of the night before.  After what seemed like several minutes of stumbling and knocking into things, he finally reached his doorknob.  He turned it slowly, holding it partially to keep his balance which was soon lost again.

He was a dreadful sight, and the manner in which the door was opening characterized a scene in a horror movie where the monster is revealed.  Only this monster was about 2 feet tall, sweaty, baggy-eyed and armed with a terrible hangover.  Not to mention uncoordinated to the point of insanity.

He stood there feeling stupid in between one of the intervals of jumbled hoofsteps.

"Wanna' get a drink?" he repeated from the previous night, "Idiot."

As he walked down the hall, he felt a sudden breeze go through the house, as if a door had just been opened.  The wind was chilling and relaxing for Thundermach's fur, which still clung to its dampness.  He kept walking—or trying to walk, rather.  The draft was getting stronger as he neared the washer room.  He turned and leaned his head around the frame of the doorway, almost losing his balance.

Nopony there.

The window, as expected, was wide open, much to the dismay of his eyesight.  Light flooded in through the opening, as if it were breaching the only barrier in the threshold.  He suspected his parents may have opened it.  No, that couldn't be right.  If his parents were home, he would have been able to hear them.  Besides, he only felt the sudden breeze as he was halfway down the hall.  He remembered last night, when he and Surprise had dragged him out of the window to the party.  She shut it behind them though; he watched her as she did.  That was another window though.  Urgh!  All of this thinking was making his head hurt.  He just needed to lie down an--

"Hiya!" Surprise yelled once again.  Her confetti shooters were working properly now.

Thundermach was not frightened, he was not startled, and he was most certainly not oriented with his surroundings or himself.  However, with confetti now covering his sweat-soaked fur, it really couldn't get any better.  Instead of jumping or even replying, he just simply stood there and stared, eyes half-open and uneven.  He sighed, and continued walking down the hallway.  Each step was a challenge alone.  All he wanted was to get to the kitchen, take some pain-killer herbs, and hope to Celestia that his head didn't explode.

"Good morning," she said happily.  She flew upside-down, her nose just in front of his.  "I just thought I'd drop by for a little bit and see how it was going.  You had a pretty crazy night, you know.  How ya' feeling?"

"How does it look?" he replied.

"Well, not too bad, except for your mane is a mess, and your eyes are all weird."  She spoke like his ridiculous appearance was just slightly less than normal.

"Well, thanks for checking up on me," he said, "but I'm doing just fine without any help. Besides," his head sent a jolt of pain through his temple, "you really don't have to sneak in here every time you come over."  He continued his steady pace to the kitchen.  To Thundermach, getting those herbs was number-one priority.

After a few hours of lying on the couch with a nauseating body-ache, Surprise finally left, and Thundermach got up to get some water.  As he was drinking, however, he noticed that there was something odd about both the quality of the liquid, and its color—or should I say, colors.  He counted a total of six different hues.  It reminded him of —

"Wait a second," he thought for a moment, "Oh, sweet mother of —" His throat lit up in flame.

Thundermach flew out of the bathroom, screaming and gasping in a fit of hysteric pain.  From across the hall he heard his sister laughing wildly.

"Urg!  Sunset!" He knew he only had a couple of seconds before he would be nothing but a spicy mushroom cloud.  He rushed to the kitchen sink, turning the faucet and gulping ravenously.

Never once in his life had he been so thankful for common drinking water.  The lukewarm tap was heaven from his lips to the very pit of his stomach.  He let out a relieved sigh, then gasped and returned his head to the sink when the glorious heat returned.  When the pain settled, he turned around and found his sister staring at him, a hoof over her mouth, trying to stifle laughter.

"And I thought I had it bad when MY hair was a mess," she said.

He looked at her.  Even with her mane a mix between dirt-brown and her natural electric blue, she was still a beautiful filly, and he wanted the best for her.  One day, she would find the stallion of her dreams and have foals like he knew she would.  She was his little sister, and he loved her so much, even when they fought or she made him angry.

"Now we're even," she said with a grin.  With that said and done, she went back to her room to finish getting ready for the day.

To say that I would be lying when I say that this was exactly the kind of morning Thundermach wished so dearly he could wake up to every day--hungover, confetti-cannoned, annoyed, and with a burnt, multicolored mouth--would be the largest understatement imaginable.  However, this was one of those mornings, so he would have to deal with it.

He left the house after brushing his teeth with Colgate paste and wiping off the remaining confetti pieces from his fur.  He felt much better than he did when he woke up, although a dull pain still lingered, and his nose kind of hurt.  What happened last night? he asked himself.  He tried to remember, but just saw a few blurry images, one with a teddy bear sitting in front of some balloons.

He walked to the edge of his family's cloud.  The drop-off never ceased to amaze him.  He felt like he could attack the world with one death-defying leap.  He stood in the cool wind for a few moments longer, and then leapt off into a perfect free-fall.  He could only hear the air now as it rushed past his ears and around his face.  His heart began to pump like crazy, the blood racing through his veins; and yet he felt the utmost calm.  His mane and tail whipped furiously behind him.

For some reason, Thundermach never felt as free as when he was falling.  Within the adrenaline, he found tranquility, and though he was doubtful in his true speed, he never felt fear to do what he did.  To him, this was comfort; to him, this was being alive, and when he did this, nothing could stand in his way.

Clouds passed by him at rapid velocity. In between one of the waves of air current, a place where atmospheric decompression would happen (he called these "dead spots"), he opened his wings and began beating, propelling himself downwards at even greater speeds. He pointed his nose toward the ground, like a falling arrow. The wind suddenly got much thicker and condensed. He beat his wings harder and harder. He could feel the strength of his drop increasing. But then, something began to happen...something he had never seen before.

The air was forming a distinct arc in front of his head. It was louder than ever now. His eyes were watering, and his mane felt like it could fly off. What was he doing? He'd never gone this fast before, and yet he knew somehow that if he stopped, he wouldn't get this chance again. Something was going to happen, and soon.

However, not soon enough, as the ground was now approaching faster than he would have time for if he didn't want to break his wings and end up as a pegasus pancake.  He tucked in his wings and got into a spread-eagle position, slowing him down enough to re-open his wings and pull out of the free-fall.  He leaned forward slightly, and made a surprisingly hard pull-out.

"Horseapples..." he cursed, "I almost got there!" He didn't know what "there" even was, but now he was almost desperate to see. It would have to wait, though.  He pulled up, and began to glide.

A good enough height above the ground, he flew at a steady pace, trying to conserve enough energy to make it back to Cloudsdale. But meanwhile, he glided evenly and gazed into the canopy of the forest below. He passed a mountain, rounded back, and landed on one of its ledges. He closed his wings, savoring the momentary relaxation of muscle. One day, when he grew old, he wouldn't be able to do the things he did now. Maybe that was the reason he loved to be daring and adventurous. Maybe it wasn't.

He spotted a pathway leading off from the ledge. Was it pony-made or natural? The protrusions from a mountain cliff were all the same to him. As he followed the path, he noticed that it ran up the mountain, rather than down it.  The small dirt road had many chunks missing from it, probably from where rocks had fallen and taken out bits of the path with them.

There were a few small stone archways that ran along the way.  As Thundermach walked under them, he noticed that they looked ancient, and had depictions of ponies on them doing many different things. The royal cutie marks were also depicted; the sun of Celestia and the crescent moon of Luna.  They were usually shown on opposite pillars of each archway. Under the marks showed what each of them stood for and how Equestrian life was affected under each's rule. These were made long before Nightmare Moon, as the event, along with any devices created within the past millenium, was never portrayed among the depictions.

"This must have been made by pegasi thousands of years ago!" he said aloud. "Ponies didn't have hot-air balloons back then. I might just be standing on an ancient ruin site." He looked down and lifted his hooves.  After examining the dirt beneath him, he continued to study for a little longer, and then got back to walking down—or up, as it were—the path. The slow walk was rather nice after flying for as long as he had been before he landed.  Cloudsdale was not going to be a quick trip back.  It had taken long enough getting here alone.

He hadn't noticed that he was on the dark side of the mountain, because when he rounded a turn, he was struck with the dazzling orange light of the sun setting on the horizon. His eyes hurt like crazy for a second, and then adjusted to the brilliant rays.  Directly above was the highest point on the mountain, the peak. He would finish his walk, and fly home from there.

He unfurled his wings and flew up to the ledge.  Once he was up, he turned back around to face the view. His eyes grew wide and he gasped. It was indescribable.  He looked to the end of the scenery, to the farthest he could see.  I wonder what’s out there, he thought.  After taking another couple of seconds to get used to the brightness, he looked down to the spectacular view laid out in front of him. It was breathtaking, and was almost too much to take in on first glance.

"Wow, Celestia. You've really outdone yourself this time."  He stood in amazement, surveying the landscape; the valleys, the open sky.  What wonders lay beyond the horizon?

"You really think so?" he heard from behind him.

Thundermach spun around.  Every bone in his body seized up, terrified.  It was her—the one and only…

"P-P-Princess...C-Celestia?"