A Dash of Inspiration

Rainbow Dash sighed impatiently, pawing at the ground with a foreleg. She was standing on a large field of short grass which overlooked Ponyville, waiting. The pony for whom she waited was only a few minutes late, but Dash’s patience had already begun to wear thin. The day was pleasant enough: warm, sunny, not a cloud in the sky, but the pegasus’s mood was already soured.

I hope the rest of these community service hours aren’t as boring as this, she thought to herself. It wasn’t her fault that Ponyville’s windows weren’t built to withstand Sonic Rainbooms. If the ponies living there took it so seriously, they should build stronger windows, not punish people for being strong. She was Rainbow Dash, The Fastest Filly Flyer in all of Equestria! She had just been flying fast. If a few windows – okay, a few dozen windows – and some other stuff had been damaged, that was hardly her fault!

The judge at the hearing hadn’t seemed to see things Dash’s way, but had presented her with a choice. Pay a monstrous fine for all the damages she’d caused, or do community service to make it back. Dash hadn’t really seen it as a choice. She mostly lived on cheap takeout, and being a weather pony paid surprisingly little. When she’d been told that she could give flying lessons for her community service, Dash had jumped at the opportunity, feeling that flying could hardly count as work.

A commotion on the horizon brought Dash out of her recollection. Dash narrowed her eyes, trying to see what it was. A dust cloud was just visible on the dirt path, but the blue pegasus couldn’t tell what was leading it. Lifting herself a few metres into the air, Rainbow Dash once again trained her eyes. There was too much dust to be certain, but she could just make out an orange blur at the head of the cloud. Rainbow Dash did not know specifically whom she was to teach – she had been given only a time and a location.
Hmm. Do I know anypony who’s oran-
No.

No, it couldn’t be. They wouldn’t do that.

Rainbow Dash’s wings slowed, lowering herself down to the ground. The cloud was now close enough for her to see clearly, quickly making its way up the hill. Sure enough, the pony creating it was orange. She was also riding a scooter. Dash lowered her head and groaned, mentally preparing herself for the prospect of spending the next few months with-

“Hi, Rainbow Dash!” exclaimed Scootaloo, coming to a stop in front of the blue pegasus and jumping off the scooter. “Isn’t this so cool? I sign up for flying lessons, and my flying instructor is the Rainbow Dash – the Fastest Filly Flyer in all of Equestria!” Scootaloo could barely contain herself, hopping up and down in anticipation. Her saddlebags bounced with her.

Rainbow Dash’s reaction was somewhat more subdued.

“Er, um, hey, Scootaloo. Yeah, it’s gonna be really fun, I’m sure. So, is there anything-”

“Um, actually,” Scootaloo interjected, rummaging around in her saddlebags, “I’m supposed to give you this before we start anything.” She found her prize and dropped a scroll with the seal of the Equestrian courts onto the ground at Dash’s feet. The orange pegasus then turned back to her scooter and busied herself removing her helmet and saddlebags.

Dash flicked the scroll open with a hoof and skimmed it, confusion clear on her face. The judge hadn’t mentioned anything about a scroll, or special instructions. As Dash read through the words, a connection between this information and the monotone words of the court secretary formed. She had said something about Dash’s community service hours “being held to the standards of the Equestrian educational system.” Dash hadn’t thought much about it at the time, as she had been overjoyed at the prospect of paying her “debt to society” through flight, but now it started to make sense.

Only it didn’t.

“Scootaloo,” Dash said. “It says here that I’m to instruct you in the skills covered by a first-year flight school course.”

“Yeah, so?” Scootaloo set down her saddlebags and turned back to Dash.

“So, why would I do that if you’re already in flight school? The court must’ve made a mistake or something.”

Scootaloo’s demeanour dampened at this. She started to say something, but broke Dash’s gaze halfway through and trailed off into silence.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” said Dash. “Come again?”

“I . . . I haven’t . . .” Scootaloo mumbled. Dash leaned forward and cocked her head.

“One more time?”

“I’mnotinflightschool!” Scootaloo exclaimed. There followed an awkward silence, which Rainbow Dash eventually broke.

“Um, why not?”

“Well, see, my parents and I used to live in Fillydelphia, but we had to move here because of my dad’s job. When we moved, it sort of messed up the schedule for enrolment in flight school, so I have to wait for this year to finish before I can apply to flight school next year.”

“So, you’ll be a year behind when you start flight school,” said Dash, slowly realizing the responsibility upon her shoulders. Scootaloo brightened considerably.

“I would be, but my parents said that if I got this training and passed an entrance test, the school would count it as a substitute for my first year, so I’d enter along with everypony else!” Scootaloo was back to her usual, cheery self. “Isn’t it just great?”
Yeah, great. Ugh, trust the government to find a way of turning flying into work.
“Yeah, Scootaloo,” said Rainbow Dash with enthusiasm she did not feel. “It’s great. Now, who wants to learn how to fly?”

“Ooh! Ooh! I do!”

The session passed enjoyably enough, though without actual flight on either pony’s part. Instead, Dash instructed Scootaloo in a regimen of stretches and exercises to help acclimate the body to the stresses of flight. Scootaloo was disappointed that she would not be performing any Sonic Rainbooms on her first day, but she did not let this faze her and paid rapt attention to all of Dash’s instructions.

After they had said their goodbyes, Dash leapt into the sky. Being grounded for such a length of time had built up a good deal of stress, and she knew of no better way to relieve stress than a soaring session amongst the clouds. She tried to concentrate on smashing through cloud banks and other aerobatic stunts, but her thoughts soon turned to more serious matters.

Gliding in a holding pattern, Dash was forced to come to terms with her predicament. She was no teacher, that much was certain. The stretches she had taught Scootaloo were about the only things she remembered from her time at flight school. She had excelled at the act of flight itself, but Dash had never paid much attention when they were discussing the aerodynamics and theory of flight in the classroom.

It would be so much simpler if this whole thing could be undone, somepony more qualified found to teach Scootaloo. Maybe it wasn’t too late to switch to manual labour. Dash had heard the spice mines were rather nice this time of year.

No, no, she thought to herself, sighing. She had been sighing far too much today. I can’t just run off. If I do, I would just be passing the problem on to another pony. I need to find a solution to this – there must be something that’ll work!
Held to the standards of the Equestrian educational system. Who do they think they are? I’m Rainbow Dash, saver of lives, performer of Sonic Rainbooms, giver of cutie marks! Why do I need their approval to teach somepony how to fly, of all things?
Dash landed heavily on a cloud and sat down in thought, irritated. She needed to find some workable answer to this whole thing by tomorrow, as the only breaks she had from the flying sessions were the weekends. Suddenly, an idea struck her. Twilight would have something to say about all this! She was always studying a hundred things, so why not flight?

Dash dove off the cloud and quickly flew to Ponyville’s library, stopping just in front of the door. She force herself to calm down – there would be some way around this. Then she knocked, and the door opened after a moment to reveal Spike.

“Oh, hi Rainbow Dash!” Spike greeted her, but his expression immediately grew suspicious. “You’re not skipping your community service hours, are you?”

“Relax, Spike, I already did those for today,” said Dash, flicking a foreleg dismissively. Far back in her mind, though, she felt a little surprised. Was she that easy to mistrust? “I’m the element of loyalty, remember? I’d never cop out of something like this.”

“Oh, er, yeah,” said Spike. “So, what brings you to our fine building?”

“I was hoping to speak to Twilight, actually. Is she here?”

“She is. Come on in and I’ll get her.” With this, Spike turned away from his visitor and jogged to an upper floor of the library. Dash stepped inside, taking in the room lazily. She’d never much cared for libraries, or books in general. Reading had always seemed too slow for her, not enough action or thrill. There was a paperback novel lying on a table near the door. With nothing better to do, Dash examined it.

The cover depicted a pony (black coat, white hair) in armour facing the reader with a sword in one hoof and a large, black cat by his side. Behind him was what could only be a cityscape, though it looked unlike any architecture Dash had ever seen. The book was called Homeland and had been written by one R. A. Salvacolte. Dash had never heard of this pony, but she hardly kept up to speed with authors. She was intrigued, though, so she flipped the book over and read the back.

By the end of the paragraph, intrigue had become desire. It was one of the few times in her life Dash could remember wanting to read something. Elves and Dwarves and wars and fighting – had books always been about stuff this . . . interesting? The only things Dash remembered seeing in books were aerodynamics equations and weather algorithms.
It’s apparently part of a series. I wonder if Twilight has the rest of them-
“Rainbow Dash! Good to see you!” called Twilight from the stairs, breaking the blue pegasus’s train of thought. Spike had apparently remained upstairs. “What did you need to see me about?”

Dash quickly stepped away from the book and shifted her attention to the matter at hand. She disliked asking for help for any reason, but this needed to be done.

“I was wondering if you had any books on flight, actually.”

Twilight giggled, but quickly sobered.

“. . . You’re serious.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Again, Dash was annoyed at how easily everyone seemed to doubt her. Twilight stayed silent for a moment, thinking about how best to answer the question. At length:

“You’re, well, you,” she said. “The Fastest Filly Flyer in all of Equestria. I honestly think I’ve seen you flying one way or another more than walking or standing – why would you ever need to read about flying?”
She has a point.
“Well, um, it’s not for me,” Dash said, looking around awkwardly. “It’s for the community service thing I have to do.” Twilight’s expression soured.

“The community service you have to do to make up for a Sonic Rainboom in the middle of town?” the unicorn said flatly. Dash grinned sheepishly.

“Yeah, that.”

Rolling her eyes, Twilight walked over to the Flight & Aviation section and helped her friend pick out several books on flight. They ranged from athletic instruction manuals to aerodynamic theory encyclopaedias, the latter mostly suggested by Twilight. Dash wasn’t entirely sure she would end up using all of them, but she wasn’t about to argue with Twilight over books.

When they had brought the stack over to the main desk for checkout, Twilight started the process of stamping the inside of each book cover with a due date and recording the same date in the library’s ledger. She had done this so many times it barely registered as magic anymore, which left most of her concentration available. Glancing at the ledger, Twilight noticed something.

“Come to think of it, you’re the second pegasus to come in asking for books about flight,” she said, peering closer to the name written there. “Scootaloo beat you to it.”

“Really?” Dash asked, honestly curious. It hadn’t occurred to her that her student might have had the same idea.

“Yeah,” replied Twilight, the memory coming back to her. “She came in a little while ago, asking almost exactly the
same thing as you. In fact, if she’d had her way, she would’ve been taking home more books than you are.”

“I’m teaching her how to fly for my community service. Must’ve really wanted to do this whole flying thing properly,” said Dash, watching registered books float into a pair of library-stamped saddlebags. She had not brought her own.

“Actually, I don’t think that was the reason.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she mentioned how she wanted to learn all she could about flying so that she wouldn’t disappoint you,” Twilight stated matter-of-factly. At this, there was a slight sensation of discomfort in the back of Dash’s mind – it was upsetting, but she couldn’t put a feeling to it. Twilight continued talking: “She really seemed taken. Her eyes lit up whenever she mentioned you and the whole prospect of being taught by the Fastest Filly Flyer in all of Equestria seemed divine to her.”

“That kid . . .” Rainbow Dash sighed heavily. Twilight raised her eyebrows.

“What’s the matter? I thought you liked Scootaloo.” Dash backpedalled, clarifying what she meant.

“Yeah, I do, it’s just that, well,” Dash scratched the back of her neck awkwardly with a foreleg, “I’ll put it this way. Today was a four-hour session, with a break for lunch. During that time, she called me The Fastest Filly Flier in all of Equestria seventeen times.” Twilight chuckled at this.

“Do my ears deceive me? Is Rainbow Dash becoming irritated with praise?”

“That was one compliment that I bothered to count,” continued Dash, putting her hooves on the desk to emphasize her point. Her tone was now the monotone of someone presenting an extremely factual argument to which they had an extremely personal connection. “I didn’t mention how often she told stories of stuff that I did, or referred to me as ‘awesome’ or ‘sooo coool’, or thanked me for being her teacher.”

“That’s a bad thing? I thought you liked adoring fans.”

“Adoring fans are one thing. Spending a few months with someone who worships you is another.” Rainbow Dash sighed. “And the fact that I’m being ordered to do this by the government doesn’t help matters. Anyway, thanks for the books. I have a feeling I’m going to need them.” The pegasus swung the saddlebags over her sides and started to turn around. She hadn’t completed an about-face when Twilight put her hooves on Dash’s.

“Rainbow Dash, listen,” Twilight said. Dash looked into Twilight’s eyes, and saw emotion there. “I’m sure that this whole thing will turn out alright. I’ve gotten to know you well since I moved here, and I know how hard you work when you’re doing something you enjoy, even if somepony else is forcing you to do it. If you put your mind to something, there’s nothing you won’t be able to do – I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Rainbow Dash was still for a moment, surprised at the show of emotion from the normally introverted Twilight. As Dash’s mind processed what Twilight had said, she realized that the purple unicorn’s words carried a kind of comfort with them. It was nice to know that Twilight believed in her abilities, even if everypony else (and herself, come to think of it) was less than confident.

Dash cleared her throat.

“Um, yeah, well, I should be going,” she said, trotting towards the door. “Thanks for the books and everythinggottagoseeyalaterbye!” With that, Dash sped off into the sky. After a short stop at the nearest pizza parlour (Dash had underestimated how hungry teaching made her when she had packed her lunch that morning), the blue pegasus flew up to her house.

Twilight stood at the desk, hooves still on it. She watched as the library door swung slowly shut, slightly squealing on its hinges. Twilight released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding as it clicked shut.

I hope Rainbow Dash feels all right about this whole affair. Scootaloo could hardly ask for a better teacher, and it would be awful to have Dash beat herself up over teaching somepony how to fly, of all things.

Twilight lightly pushed herself off of the desk and walked over to the section that she and Dash had investigated. It had become noticeably more dishevelled from their efforts, with several books which had ultimately proven to be unrelated to Dash’s needs lying haphazardly on the floor. Twilight started levitating them up and back into their respective spots on the shelves. She found herself still thinking about Dash, despite her preoccupation. It was always nice to be able to help a friend in need, of course, but it seemed to be more than that.

Maybe it was because of her friend’s stature – Dash was, by all counts, an Equestrian hero. The others of their little gang were as well, but few were so brazen about it. Applejack was humble, Fluttershy was timid, and Pinkie was often too busy being . . . Pinkie to think about fame and the like. Twilight was aware of how a good number of ponies thought about her, but she didn’t really enjoy the spotlight – Rarity was the only one who might have approached Dash’s familiarity with stardom.

Twilight had now finished with the books. She moved to a nearby cushion and flopped down upon it, then rolled onto her back and stretched out her spine over the cushion’s arch. After a momentary thought about how she really ought to get out of the library more, Twilight’s thoughts returned to Ponyville’s chief aerobat.
Rainbow is always so confident about everything, whether she’s capable of doing it or not. It’s really odd to see her as concerned about this as she seems to be. Maybe she’s . . .
No, that was a silly idea. Dash wasn’t scared about this. Dash wasn’t scared about anything.

Evening was setting in as Dash landed on the cloud lawn surrounding her home. Ignoring the rainbow waterfalls that flanked the entrance and would have inspired awe in many other ponies, Dash simply entered, feeling tired after a thoroughly taxing day. She placed the pizza box onto the stack of empty pizza boxes that partially adorned the living room’s coffee table. The other half of it was occupied by empty pop bottles and the odd beer can, which Dash had long since stopped noticing as clutter.

Dash tossed the saddlebags onto the couch, sat down and opened the pizza box. The smell of melted cheese, oats and dandelions instantly awakened the full scope of her appetite and she attacked the disc of food in front of her.

After finishing it, Dash sat back and patted her belly, the residual warmth of the pizza flowing pleasantly into her body. Now that she had no other concerns, the books seemed almost manageable. Sighing, Dash reached for one of the books, not caring which she started with. When she looked at it, she was surprised to see the white-haired pony from the library paperback returning her gaze.
What the-? I didn’t check this one out . . .
Dash opened the book, causing a small piece of paper to fall to the floor. She picked up the paper and read it.

Rainbow Dash,

I saw you looking at this when I was at the top of the stairs. You didn’t mention it, but I figured that if a book can interest you, then it’s worth reading.

-Your friend, Twilight Sparkle

Dash was momentarily embarrassed, but the feeling quickly passed – after all, Twilight wouldn’t say anything about Dash’s sudden interest in books. Even if she did, Dash had a feeling that this particular book would be conveniently left out.
Man, Twilight’s a really good friend. It makes sense, I suppose, having a goddess for a mentor. Maybe those colts from flight camp would’ve turned out differently if they’d had somepony like Twilight to look up to.
“I’ll do anything you want, Rainbow Dash!”

Dash recoiled as if struck at the sound of Scootaloo’s voice. Looking frantically around, she realized that she’d imagined it. Dash breathed a sigh of relief, then forced herself to calm down and process the information. Why had she imagined Scootaloo’s voice? This thought about role models couldn’t be the trigger, could it?

Belatedly, Dash registered what she’d seen on her frantic sweep of the room. Looking around, Dash noticed a Wonderbolts poster stuck to the wall. It had been there so long, she’d stopped noticing it. The posted depicted a pegasus rearing back dramatically, streaks of black and white behind it like the trail the Wonderbolts were famous for. The pony was intentionally genderless, with facial features obscured by thunderheads and lightning bolts. Beneath the pony, there was text. YOU COULD BE THE NEXT WONDERBOLT it read, the block capitals emphasizing the point.

Dad! Dad! Wasn’t that SO AWESOME? They did loop-de-loops and barrel rolls and figure eights and they even flew upside down! I didn’t know you could DO that!

Yes, Dashie. I was there, you know. Good to hear you enjoyed it.

I’m SO gonna be a Wonderbolt when I grow up! They’re SO COOL!

Yes, Dashie, as you’ve said. Hundreds of times by now, no doubt.

It’s true!

I never said it wasn’t, Dashie. It’s great that you have a dream. You know, there’s actually something I wanted to give you. It was going to wait until we got home, but-

Ooh! Ooh! Whatisitwhatisitwhatisit-

Here. These posters were covering the walls, so I figured I’d take one instead of letting them get thrown out.

Ohmygosh! Ohmygosh! Thank you so much, Dad! You’re the best!

Don’t mention it, Dashie. I’m just glad you’re happy.

. . . Dad?

Yes?

Thanks for taking me to the show and everything. Today was great.

I bet I know what’d make it even better.

What?

Oh, only a ponyback ride back to our house.

REALLY?

Of course. Hop on.

Thank you so much, Dad!

Anything for my number-one girl.

. . . Dad?

Yes, Dashie?

. . . I love you.

I love you too.

Rainbow Dash looked around at the layer of pizza boxes, cans and crumbs covering her furniture and floor. Then she looked down at the note and book in her hooves. Then she thought of the colts from summer flight camp, how it had taken a Sonic Rainboom to make them even think about changing.

Rainbow Dash didn’t read any books that night. Instead, she cleaned.

The next day, Dash stood in the same field she had the day before. This time, though, she stood proudly, relishing the challenge of the coming months. Scootaloo arrived, announced by the dust cloud, as she had the day before. Dash greeted the filly as she hopped off her scooter and undid her helmet.

“Alright, Scootaloo. Let’s get you into flight school.”