Chapters Chapter 1 - Dreams of a Filly
Flying in a Blue Dream
Chapter One - Dreams of a Filly
The sun shone into the room through closed blinds. A yellow-gold filly stirred in her bed, the brightness causing her to wake. As she sat up the sheets fell off her, revealing a brilliant mane that resembled a burning fire. Giving a yawn and stretching her wings, she lifted herself lazily off the mattress.
Floating herself down next to her vanity table, she looked herself over in the mirror. The reflection that stared back at her was a groggy pony sporting a messy bed-mane. Yawning again, she picked up her brush and began dressing her hair into the same manestyle that she had worn since her earliest years.
As she prepared herself for the new day, her gaze wandered to a photograph tucked into the edge of the mirror. The image depicted a group of ponies clad in blue and yellow jumpsuits, aviator goggles atop their heads – the Wonderbolts. They were the greatest fliers in Equestria, and had long been her greatest idols. Moving from the photo to the cloud-walls of her room, the pony surveyed dozens of posters that she had tacked up everywhere. Each depicted the Wonderbolts in various acts of aerial aerobatics. One read “See the greatest performance of a lifetime!” Another, “A must-see experience!”
Finally, her gaze came to rest on a sweater that sat upon the head of her dresser. It was a perfect replication of the flight group's outfit; there was even a pair of goggles to match. She trotted over to the costume, admiring it for a moment before slipping it on. She then walked back over to the mirror and began posing in front of it, taking pleasure in how good she thought it looked on her.
“Spitfire!” came her mother’s voice, calling to her from elsewhere in the house. “Time for breakfast!”
“Just a second, Mom!” the filly called back. She flaunted herself before her reflection once more and then bounded off to get some breakfast.
She had never actually seen the Wonderbolts perform live. The only times she had watched them was from a great distance as they practiced high above the clouds. While Spitfire had grown up in Cloudsdale, she had never really flown more than a few feet off the white, fluffy clouds that the city was built on. Today was a special day for her, however. Today, her mom was taking her to see their show at the local stadium. She was super excited and the filly showed it as she came bounding down the stairs from her room and into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” her mom chimed. “I thought maybe you’d sleep through the big day.”
“Mornin’ Mom! Are you kiddin’? I wouldn’t miss this day for anything!”
Her mom let out a small chuckle. She knew how much Spitfire had been looking forward to this day. The filly hadn’t stopped talking about it for nearly a week after she had been told that they were going.
Spitfire sat down at their dining room table as a plate of pancakes and eggs and a glass of milk was placed in front of her. The meal looked positively delicious.
“Thanks, Mom!”
“Sure thing, honey. Eat up!”
The young pegasus did just that. Her breakfast was gone in a matter of minutes. It didn’t take her long to start bugging her mother to hurry up so they could go. Eventually, her pleas were answered and they were on their way. Stepping out the door, she was bouncing as she went.
The walk to the stadium was a long one as the venue’s location was all the way across the city. Cloudsdale was wonderful this time of year, though, so the trip was more than enjoyable. The sun was bright and the streets were filled with ponies. It was a good day for an airshow.
Every once in awhile, her mom would stop and talk to somepony she knew. And all through these conversations, Spitfire would impatiently pester her to speed up. Her protests grew more and more frustrated with each one. They did, much to her relief, reach the stadium on time though.
The ticket-master took their stubs and allowed them entry. As they passed through the gate and into the open-air arena, Spitfire’s eyes went wide in amazement. The stadium was ringed with ponies seated all around. The center of the structure dropped off, an empty portal to the ground below. Rising out of the center of that emptiness were pillar-like clouds. The place was most definitely set up for flight exhibitions. The filly even started to flap her own wings as if to test her own skills. She only stopped hovering when they got to their seats.
For a while, the only sounds were those of the ponies in the crowd talking amongst themselves. Then they all went quiet as a small band began to play a bit of music. It was only a short intro piece, but as the last note was struck on the bass drum, the crowd erupted into a cheer so loud that all their voices became one. Above the stadium, two smoke streaks criss-crossed each other; one blue and the other yellow. Spitfire’s eyes grew wider-still as she watched in awe at the spectacle.
The two pegasi that had flown across at supersonic speeds slowed ever so slightly and doubled back, this time flying in parallel as their trailing essence sketched a blue and yellow zig-zag overtop the stadium. Two more pegasi flew in and joined them in their effort. And then two more. The entire flight squad then turned once more toward the stadium and etched the words “The Wonderbolts” into the sky with their brilliant trails, and the crowd roared again. The fliers slowed considerably before landing softly on the main balcony of the stadium.
One of them stepped forward to a podium at the edge of the balcony. Her windswept mane that stuck through the jumpsuit was a gorgeous aqua-marine. Her wings and muzzle, and by extension, her coat, were all a brilliant sky blue. As she lifted her flight goggles, her eyes shone bright with a vibrant hue of magenta.
“Fillies and gentlecolts!” The crowd fell silent as she made her announcement into the microphone. “I, Jetstream, on behalf of all of the fine fliers of the Wonderbolts, want to welcome you to the thirteenth annual Wings of Wonder airshow! We have some spectacular displays planned for you today, and we hope you enjoy the show!”
Again, the audience burst into an uproar, applauding Jetstream’s speech. They were certainly ready for a show, and by Celestia’s grace, her flight team was going to give them one.
She stepped back to her squad. Slipping the goggles back on and giving a nod, she told them to give it their all. They nodded back, and then, one-by-one, they shot off from the platform with unimaginable acceleration. Jetstream watched as they took off, analyzing each one to ensure they were following form. When the last of her comrades had left the balcony, she turned to face the open sky again. And like that, she was airborne once more.
From the stands, that little filly named Spitfire watched with unblinking eyes as her idols took flight. Even way up above her, where speed and time is distorted, they looked fast. Now that they were much closer, their speed and control was unfathomable to her young mind. It was an incredible sight to see indeed.
She watched intently as they performed maneuvers she could only dream of. Supersonic passes, turns, loops, rolls, eights, whatever trick one could think of, they pulled it off without a hitch. The show was going perfectly. Fate always has a funny way of changing that, however.
As they prepared to do their most difficult gambit, Jetstream and her wingpony, Mist Flash, took their positions like normal. The maneuver called for the two pegasi to criss-cross their paths multiple times as they looped around each other at supersonic speeds and in such a way that they would be unable to see each other at any given moment; it was entirely fly-by-feel. They had done it a hundred times over at other shows, and even more during practice. They had no reason to be too worried. The ponies began their procedure the same as they always had.
From a slow hover they started off. Jetstream took a slight lead over Mist Flash as they flew side by side, then they both turned over on their backs. An ear shattering boom resounded through the sky behind them as they broke through the sound barrier. Next, they began to revolve around one another, backs still facing. Then they split apart, each still spinning around their own axis.
A normal pegasi would have gotten dizzy from this excessive motion, but they weren’t normal pegasi. They had trained for months for this trick, and had years of practice before it had even been dreamed up. They knew their limits. They were ready for this. No amount of training could have prepared them though for what happened during the next phase of the stunt.
As the pony’s paths started to cross, Jetstream’s eyes caught a fleeting glimpse of something in the distance. Though she only saw it for a second, during the next couple of rotations she could tell that it was something reflective. Eventually, the light that bounced off whatever it was hit her eyes, effectively blinding her.
Nopony on the ground could tell that anything was wrong at first, however. But then she recoiled in flight, and lost control, unable to see where she was going. One of the other pegasi called out to her from above.
“Jetstream, what’s wrong‽ Watch where you’re goi—”
His words fell upon ears deafened by the wind rushing past them; it was too late anyway. Unable to watch the direction of her flight, the lead pony’s body slammed into Mist Flash’s, knocking them both unconscious. Their limp bodies plummeted towards the ground at break-neck speeds. Two of the wonderbolts who were below the falling pegasi were able to catch Mist as he fell, though it took some effort to slow him down. The other two sprung into action from above, but it quickly became apparent that they would be unable to catch their flight leader before she crashed into the stands of the stadium.
Hundreds of ponies watched in horror as the incident unfolded in the skies above them. One of those ponies was the young Spitfire, who had a look of terror upon her face as her hero came hurtling right toward her. The other ponies around her had scattered in the stands so as not to be hit by the living projectile.
Spitfire’s mother urged her to move, but to no avail. The little yellow pegasus would not budge. Instead, she spread her wings and began to flap them. She seemed to be in a trance, as if being directed by a will that was not her own. The filly lifted herself up off the stands. Her mom reached out for her, but Spitfire escaped her grasp. The young pegasus flew upward, directly toward the Wonderbolt’s leader.
Spitfire put her hooves out before her, and their two bodies interlocked. The weight of Jetstream's falling athletic frame hit the filly with an overwhelming force. Spitfire had managed to slow the fall considerably, yet they continued onward toward the stands. She kept her wings spread, acting as resistance to diminish their speed and steady their descent. Eventually, it proved too much for her to handle, and she passed out.
It was around this time that Jetstream began to come to. As she opened her eyes, the sense of falling rushed to her mind. She did not panic, though. Instead, she took in what was happening, and she felt the pressure of her would-be savior wrapped around her. Looking to the unconscious Spitfire, she closed her eyes. Thank you for trying.
The older pegasus attempted to unfold her wings, but a pain rushed through her body. One of her wings was horribly mangled; probably broken. She couldn’t stop their inevitable collision, but she could manage to protect the life that was in her hooves. Using the one good wing she had, Jetstream manipulated herself through the air until that she was between Spitfire and the bleachers.
Crash!
The sound reverberated all through the arena. While the stands were made of clouds, they were by no means cushy. It may have been better than striking metal, but the impact was still a violent one.
“Spitfire‽ Spitfire‽” A mare pushed her way through the dust clouds, calling for her daughter until she came across the two ponies, curled together in a ball. “Spitfire!”
The pegasus in the blue and yellow jumpsuit began to stir. She looked to the mare that approached her, and unfolded her body to reveal the younger pony, who lay unconscious still. Spitfire’s mother paused for a minute and then reached out to nuzzle her daughter. The filly was still alive, and miraculously uninjured. The mother turned her gaze to the Wonderbolt.
“Thank you, Jetstream, for protecting her. What about you, though. Are you alright?”
Jetstream smiled weakly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m glad I could keep her safe.” She knew she certainly wasn’t fine though. Both of her wings were definitely broken now, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if more than that had been broken as well. Then she felt the filly, still in her caress, begin to move.
Spitfire took a minute to realize where she was and what happened, then her eyes widened and she turned to Jetstream; she was in the embrace of her greatest idol. A gasp left her mouth. Jetstream put a hoof to her lips and gave a soft shush.
“Easy there, kiddo.” She told the filly with a chuckle. “No need to get worked up. It was foalish to act so recklessly. However, you saved me, and I am very grateful. Thanks. I owe you one, Squirt.”
“My name’s Spitfire!” the filly huffed.
“Haha, okay, well, I owe you one, Spitfire. Tell you what, we could use somepony like you in the squad. In a few years, when you’ve passed flightschool, come to the academy and we’ll see how much talent you’ve really got.”
Spitfire’s eyes grew wider and wider the entire time her idol was talking. She needn't have said anything with the expression that encompassed her face. Nevertheless, she let out a great big “You bet!” Her mother just giggled to herself.
“Cool. Now, go with your mom. I’ll be alright.” Relinquishing her hold on the yellow-gold pegasus, Jetstream failed to catch the filly before she got away from her. “Also, Spitfire, some advice. Never, ever give up on your dreams, no matter what. They’ll always guide you in the right direction.”
Spitfire nodded in assurance, and then retreated to her mother. The family turned and disappeared out of the stadium, as the dust finally settled.
Jetstream slowly and carefully got to her hooves. She stood, but not without tremendous pain. Her wingmates landed around her and started checking her injuries. As they did so, they questioned her about what happened. She explained everything. How the filly had saved her, how she had told her to come to the academy, and about her injuries. The squad quickly took action and had her rushed to a hospital.
There was a pair of eyes that watched all this unfold though, their owner unwavering from his seat higher up in the stands.
The pale-blue pegasus to whom they belonged just sat and watched with admiration through the whole feat. He had spotted Spitfire when she first entered the stadium and instantly took a liking to her. Her fire-like mane struck him as unique and he found her beautiful. She also had this aura of being brave and fun and nice about her. It may not have been love at first sight, since he didn’t believe in such things, but it was close enough to make him question those beliefs.
He pushed his long blue mane out of his eyes constantly during the performance in order to stare at her. He really hadn’t even been watching the show much at all, in fact. His gaze had been transfixed on Spitfire until somepony suddenly gasped as the accident unfolded high above them.
He looked up to see the Wonderbolt’s lead pony tumbling toward the ground and the others trying to rush to save her, but to no avail. He too had idolized Jetstream and her squadron from an even younger age, and found the sight too gut-wrenching to turn away from. He wanted to help, but didn’t know what to do. He had been frozen in place. Then he heard a mare call out to her daughter.
“Spitfire! Please move, darling!” the mare urged.
It was the mother of the filly he had been watching before. She was trying to get her daughter to move, but was unable to before having to move herself. The yellow-gold beauty then opened her wing and took to the skies. He was amazed by her figure as it took flight. He watched as Spitfire and Jetstream made contact with each other and then the ground. As the dust cleared, he even watched as they conversed and as Jetstream personally invited her to the Wonderbolts academy.
He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, but also envied her for being so courageous. She had saved his idol.
“Soarin!” A gruff male voice called out as the other Wonderbolts got Jetstream off her hooves and set off on their way to the hospital. “Soarin, son, come on. The show’s over, we should be going.”
It was Soarin’s father. He and the colt’s mother were waiting for him at the entrance to the stands.
“Coming, dad!”
No longer rooted to his seat, he got to his hooves and trotted back to his family. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever see that lovely yellow-gold filly again, but he knew that if he did, he wasn’t gonna just sit back this time.
Jetstream next awoke in a hospital bed. She still felt winded and her wings still hurt tremendously. She sighed. Well, at least I’m still alive.
“Ah, I see you’re awake.”
She turned to see who had spoken, though she knew quite well just from the voice. It was her Mist Flash. She smiled at him. He was her wing pony, not just in the Wonderbolts, but in life as well.
“Hey sweetie, I guess I am,” she said as Mist Flash stepped into the room and sat next to her bed. “So, what’ve the doctors said?”
“Well, good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Give me the good news.”
“Well, you’re going to be okay. The bad news though...” Mist Flash hung his head as tears began to form. He had told himself he was going to be strong, but he couldn’t bear the burden any longer. Jetstream put a hoof to his chin and pulled his gaze to meet her eyes.
“It’s okay, Mist Flash. I can take whatever it is.”
“The – the doctors say that while you’ll be okay, the injuries to your wings were extensive. You’ll be able to fly again, just—” He started crying harder. He was only able to speak again after Jetstream pulled him in closer and gave him a reassuring kiss. “Just not with us.”
His fiancé leaned back in the bed and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes; it felt like hours to the stallion. She finally broke the silence with a sigh.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she said. “I’ll be okay, Mist Flash. I want you to do something for me though.” She looked at him again. He had run out of tears now, but still looked to be sobbing.
“What’s that, darling?” he asked.
“I want you to keep going, without me. I’m promoting you to flight leader. You’ll take my place and you’ll lead those fine ponies as good as, if not better, than I ever did.”
He stumbled back a bit in shock, but quickly regained his composure. He nodded to his special somepony, and took her hoof in his.
“Thank you. I will lead them in your honor.”
“One more thing. The filly that saved me. See that she gets accepted into the academy when she’s old enough. Put her through the training like any other pony though. Don’t go easy on her. She has more potential than any of us ever did, she need only unlock it.”
“I understand.”
Mist Flash said his goodbyes, knowing his partner would be fine and would be released from the hospital as soon as she was ready. As he walked out the door and flew home, the tears came to his eyes once more. He would tell the others in the morning.
Author's Note
While this chapter rounds off nicely, this is NOT complete. There is a good bit yet to come!
Chapter 2 - Sky Full of Dreams
Flying in a Blue Dream
Chapter Two - Sky Full of Dreams
Time seemed to slow to a crawl around Spitfire as she stood in the long line of ponies waiting to file onto the stage. Today was the day her class was graduating from flight school, and it was taking place in the very same arena that had been witness to her idol’s career-ending crash.
While the headlines had told of the Wonderbolts’ lead flier having a successful recovery, she had also stepped down as captain and retired from the flight team shortly after. Spitfire knew that Jetsteam loved her job dearly and wouldn’t have given up easily, so the injury must have been worse than the reports made it out to be.
As Spitfire made her way up the steps to the stage, she scanned the crowd, eyes bouncing from pony to pony. After some time, she spotted a mare who waved to her. The young flier waved back to her mom as best as she could. The outfits that all the graduates were required to wear didn’t allow much in the way of free movement.
The sky blue cap and gown uniforms were the traditional regalia of Spitfire’s school. She actually quite liked the colour, as it complimented her yellow-orange fur nicely; she just wished that the clothes weren’t as silly looking or as uncomfortable. The gown even covered her wings so that she had to keep them tucked into her sides at all times. She couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over so she could take the garments off.
Eventually, the line of bodies shifted forward, and then once more. The advance was slow going and Spitfire grew antsy. She began prancing in place, flapping and flexing her wings, grinding her teeth, anything to keep her busy. She wasn’t one to stand still very long, but she knew that if she broke rank she would be in trouble for it, so she stayed put as best she could. She didn’t find much relief when she finally reached the top of the stairs.
“Summer Rains” the announcer said. The pony in front of Spitfire stepped forward onto the stage to accept his diploma. Spitfire filled in his spot in line. While normally confident, she was shaking vigorously from head to hoof.
Easy, Spitfire. She told herself, trying to calm her nerves. The announcer will read your name, you’ll trot across the stage, and take the award. Then you’ll head down the otherside and be done with it. Simple as th—
“Spitfire,” The pony announcing the names said into the microphone. His voice was void of any emotion as he droned on through the list.
The young pegasi graduate stumbled out of her own thoughts and onto the stage. She hadn’t been able to fully gather herself, but she still managed to trot forward with her head held high. It was far from a dignified gait, and she nearly fell over her own hooves once or twice, but her hooves did safely carry her to the spot she intended.
“Congratulations,” said the pony before her with a smile as he presented the diploma to her.
“T-thanks,” Spitfire said, taking the certificate in her mouth. The two ponies then turned to pose for the cameramare. A brilliant flash dazzled the graduate’s eyes, temporarily blinding her, but only for a moment. As the white light cleared away and her vision returned, she spun around and made her way off the stage.
Nearly tripping on her way down the stairs, she let out a long sigh through the diploma she held proudly between her teeth. It was over; all that was left was to ride out the rest of the ceremony.
It tried Spitfire’s patience waiting for the remainder of her class to finish receiving their certificates. She struggled to keep herself in her seat instead of tearing off the restricting clothes in order to burn some energy flying. Eventually, the wait took its toll on the young pegasi, and she simply sat there, nodding off to sleep.
“All the diplomas have been handed out,” the announcer said, rousing Spitfire from her drowsy state. “Now, as is the tradition to symbolize their advancement from one step in life to the next, will the graduates please move their tassels from the right side of their caps to the left.”
Everypony in the crowd who was graduating did just that. A sea of yellow tassels shifted from one side to the other.
“The commencement ceremony is now over, but I would like to say just one last thing to you all: Congratulations, graduates, and good luck!”
A cheer erupted first from the audience, and then from the graduates themselves. A flurry of blue caps was tossed up, high into the air, before raining back down into the crowd of young pegasi. It was all over; Spitfire was free to move on in life.
“I’ll give you one guess when I’m going, mom,” Spitfire said as she made her way out the door to the pegasi family’s house.
“But dear, you still have guests over,” her mother protested. “You can’t even wait until your party’s over?”
“I wanna stay and hang out with everypony, but the center closes at eight o’clock tonight. It’s already seven-thirty, and even at my speed it’ll take almost fifteen minutes to get there. That doesn’t leave me much time,” I argued.
“The recruitment center’s been there for years, and it’s not going anywhere anytime soon, ya know?”
“Tonight’s the deadline for the summer session though. If I miss it, I’ll have to wait until Autumn...” Spitfire’s lip curled and her eyes grew large. Her mother knew her pouty face well, but it always worked; she couldn’t bear to see her daughter disappointed.
“Fine, but be quick about it. I’ll keep everypony busy. They won’t even know that you’re gone.”
“Thanks, mom!”
The yellow-orange pegasus gave her mom a hug and then dashed out the door in the a streak that matched her coat.
After the graduation, Spitfire’s family and close friends had come over to party and celebrate the big day. The young flier had other plans, however. Today, as she had stated, was the last day for new recruits to sign up for the Summer session of the Wonderbolts academy, and she wasn’t going to miss it for the world.
With extreme speed, the pony tore through the cloud city like the bolt of flaming lighting that was her cutie mark. As she flew, a memory washed over her of the day she got the symbol on her rump.
It had been an unusual day for the young pegasus. It was her first day of flight school, and she was feeling quite nervous, not at all sure what to expect. The day was made worse when she got bullied into racing the school’s self-proclaimed “princess,” Silver Rush.
The race was technically against school rules, and even though she was forced into it, Spitfire couldn't resist a challenge. The school was built on its own little cloud and the two flyers' objective was to make four laps around it before coming to a stop, back where they began.
The two positioned themselves at the starting line Silver had dug into the white, fluffy ground. On the count of three, both of them took off with tremendous speed.
Spitfire loved the wind blowing through her mane. She love the adrenaline rush that came over her body. But most of all, she love the thrill of pushing herself to her limits; and this race did just that.
Silver Rush was two years ahead of Spitfire, and was by far the fastest flier in the flight school. That was, at least, until a little yellow-orange filly freshmare arrived. Within the first week of classes, the two had become heated rivals in just about everything, especially when it came to racing.
This race started off like any other feud between the two. Everything went the same as always: A good, clean first lap, with Spitfire in the lead. Then, as per the norm, Silver got underhooved with her tactics. Forget every dirty little trick in the book; Silver Rush seemed to be its author. This time, however, something backfired on her.
When she tried to collide with Spitfire in order to knock her out of the race, the fiery-maned pegasus was ready. Spitfire pulled up and rolled her body overtop of Silver.
Instead of making contact with her opponent, Silver Rush found herself crashing face-first into the cloud foundation of the school. For a panicking pegasus trying to stop herself, this was like slamming into a cement wall at high-speed.
The collision was not pretty, and Spitfire broke hard in her flight. Her rival had been knocked unconscious by the crash, her face badly mangled, and her limp body now tumbled downward toward the ground. For a moment, Spitfire contemplated letting her fall to her doom, but she remembered what had happened to her idol the year before. She wasn't about to let another soul suffer the same fate; not while she had the power to prevent it.
Spitfire turned over mid-flight, and angled herself straight down. The pegasus mare picked up speed at an exponential rate and the rush that came over her reached insane levels. She couldn’t see it, but as she raced to her competitor’s aid, something magical happened. Upon the pony’s flanks, a bolt of lightning set ablaze had been drawn upon her fur – her cutie mark.
Only yards before crashing into the ground, a streak of orange caught up to the falling diva, scooping her up before making an impossible turn back upward. Spitfire settled upon the clouds and rested her rival against the nearest wall. The whole student body, as well as the faculty, had witnessed the daring rescue and were now gathering in awe around the two mares.
Letting out a sigh, the yellow-orange pegasus turned to see the new mark on her hind-quarters. A new sensation overtook her, as she realized what exactly it meant. She had just rescued somepony, and in the process had broken nearly every school speed record. She knew now what her destiny was, to fly fast and daring. Her gaze drifted up to the skies above and Jetstream’s words recited themselves in her mind: “Never, ever give up on your dreams, no matter what. They’ll always guide you in the right direction.”
Spitfire already knew her dream – to be a Wonderbolt. Now, she knew her path. She would push herself to her limits to prove that she was the best, and she would never give up doing so until her dream became reality.
Unfortunately for her, those limits weren’t supposed to include real, physical walls. Lost in the memory, Spitfire had neglected to watch where she was flying as she made her way through a back-alley. Realizing she was about to crash, she pulled her wings back and up to catch air under them. The braking maneuver wasn’t enough to keep her from going headlong into the cloud-wall, but it did prevent the collision from seriously injuring her.
Crash!
As the pegasus mare opened her eyes again, a throbbing agony ran through her head.
“Ugh...” she moaned. “I really need to not daydream and fly at the same time.”
Attempting to stand, she immediately let out a frightful cry of pain and dropped back to the ground. At first, Spitfire thought her leg had been broken, but after testing it gingerly, she concluded it wasn’t. The meeting with the wall had merely dislocated her elbow.
That would prevent her from walking, but what pegasus needs to walk when they have wings? Feathers flared out above Spitfire’s body, and she flapped once.
“Gaaahah!!!” She let out another whinny of torture and her right wing went into a violent paroxysm. One of the muscles began to burn immensely, and the mare could only assume that the inflamed tissue had torn.
“Well, sh—”
“H-hey... y-you need any help there?”
Spitfire lifted her head to see who had interrupted her choice words, but it took a moment for her mind to register the sky-blue visage that was muzzle-to-muzzle with her. She simply blinked stupidly for a moment before the realization hit her.
“Waaaah!” She tried to push herself backwards in surprise, favouring her injured leg, but she didn’t get far. She felt her rump make contact with a pile of boxes behind her and she stopped. The strange pony blushed a little and laughed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I was... passing by when I heard your shouts, and it sounded like you could use some help.” The stallion stepped forward, his dark blue mane drifting through the wind. Spitfire’s jaw dropped a little at how handsome he was.
“I-I uh...” Spitfire was flustered from both the sudden kindness of this stranger and her own embarrassment at the situation. Her tongue was tied, and she simply flushed red in the cheeks.
The stallion gently slipped his head under Spitfire’s bad leg. She cringed a little from the pain, but she was happy just to have somepony helping her. The stranger slowly lifted her to her hooves, allowing her to keep her weight on him. He turned to look at her, and their gazes met.
His brilliant green eyes seemed to stare tenderly into her own. Spitfire smiled awkwardly, and the stallion returned the expression with his own maladroit grin. The two stood there for what seemed to them to be an eternity before the unnamed pony broke their transfixion.
“I’m Soarin’, by the way,” he said.
“Soaring where?” Spitfire asked, the stupor still in her voice.
“No, no. Soarin’ is my name.”
“Oh, sorry...” Spitfire’s cheeks gave an encore of pink hues. “M-my name’s Spitfire.”
“Haha, no worries, Spitfire. You wouldn’t be the first to get that wrong. So, where ya headed?”
“Well, I was on my way to the Wonderbolts recruitment center, until this wall came out of nowh—”
“Woah, hold up! Did you say the Wonderbolts recruitment center?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Awesome sauce! That just happens to be where I was heading too! Come on, let’s go!” Before Spitfire could respond again, Soarin’ gently and effortlessly lifted her fully onto his back and spread his wings. Despite the extra weight, the two of them lifted off the ground and made their way out of the alley and onward toward their destination.
“No can do kiddos. We’re about to close, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.” The recruiter raised a hoof to the door.
“B-but, that’s not fair!” Spitfire protested.
“True story for you: Life’s not fair,” the officer retorted.
“Come on man. You might be about to close, but you aren’t actually closed yet .” Soarin pointed out. “Just let her sign up, I can come back tomorrow.”
“A lovely sentiment, boy, but too little too late. Now come back tomor—” The recruiter trailed off as the bell over the door rang out to announce a new arrival.
“Easy there, Stormchaser.”
Spitfire and Soarin’ spun around to see who it was, though they both already had a good idea just from her voice. Both pony’s eyes opened wide with the surprise, however. Soarin’s jaw also hung open in awe of seeing the former Wonderbolt in the fur, stripped of her blue and yellow jumpsuit. Her wings were held close to her side, and Spitfire noticed the irregular curve in one of the bones.
Jetstream strode between the two hopeful recruits and up to the officer at the desk. She looked at each of the two ponies as she passed them, and winked at each in turn. Soarin’s cheeks turned ever so slightly pink at the gesture.
“I think you can take a little extra time to sign them up, right Storm?” The mare gave the officer a look that most stallions would have gone nuts for, but Storm knew how she worked though.
“No can do, Jet. We close in 2 minutes, and rules are rules. You’re no longer in charge, so I can’t make any exceptions.”
“Oh, really, Storm?” Another voice filled the room as a light green stallion emerged from a stairwell behind the counter. “What if I asked you to do so?”
“M-mist Flash. I-I...” Stormchaser stammered to find a logic rebuttal, but eventually just hung his head in defeat. “Yes, sir...”
“Hey, you know what?” Mist Flash said. “If you stay later tonight to sign these two up, I’ll let you have the whole day off tomorrow. I’ll tell Cloud Dancer to cover your shift.”
Storm looked up, a little more enthusiastic now. “Sure thing, boss. Come on kids, let’s get you through the paperwork.”
Spitfire and Soarin’ followed Stormchaser into a backroom as Mist Flash made his way over to his wife. He stopped to gaze into her eyes before giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“You missed,” she said. Before the stallion could respond, her legs threw themselves around him, and her lips met his. The two locked in each other’s embrace for as long as they could until the need to breathe finally broke them apart.
“You sure you’re okay to fly, today?” Mist asked, pulling away from his loved one gently.
“Of course. My wing’s been fully healed for a long time now, silly.”
“I know... I-I just want to be sure.”
“It’s fine, dear. I might not be able to keep up with you guys anymore, but tonight’s not about speed. In fact, it’s far from it. One does not simply take a moonlit flight and fly fast at the same time. We’ll be taking it slow.”
“Haha, you got it, darling.”
The two entwined each other in another, shorter kiss. When they parted, they trotted out of the center, spread their wings, and made for the sky. The affectionate scene did not avoid prying eyes, however.
“If we’re gonna do this, you two better get in here,” the officer yelled at the two ponies who had been peeking around the open door. Spitfire closed the door behind them as they disappeared behind it. Tomorrow, they would be Wonderbolts.
Chapter 3 - Bright New Sky
Flying in a Blue Dream
Chapter Three - Bright New Sky
Spitfire stood upon the clouds at the edge of town, looking out over the open air to the pillar of earth that rose to sky less than a mile away from her. Around the mesa top, clouds had been gathered there by the pegasi upon which they built their housing. All about the sky, winged ponies of all colors flew in from every direction. They were sporting the same outfit that Spitfire wore.
A yellow and blue vest, reminiscent of the Wonderbolt’s full flight suits, wrapped itself around the mare’s body and up her neck. She had been issued the outfit a couple days before at the recruiting office. This was the academy’s required dress for all cadets, and she wore it very well. Somepony sure thought so at least; she heard a catcall that came from behind her.
“Dang, Spitfire,” the voice said. She spun to see who it was as Soarin came trotting up to her. “These vests definitely look better on you than me.”
“Pfffft. You really think so?”
“Of course! I mean, they pale in comparison to my handsomeness. You on the other hand...” A swift hoof upside the head brought the pale blue stallion’s ego back into check with an abrupt “Ouch!”
“Shut up, you.” Spitfire wasn’t mad and even blushed a little at her friend’s teasing. It had been two weeks since they had met on their way to the recruiter’s, and during that time they had been hanging out quite a bit. Spitfire hadn’t had any close friends, but in those couple weeks, she and Soarin’ had grown nearly inseparable. “You ready?”
“You betch’ya!”
“Well then let’s do this. Care to race there?”
“Haha, you know it!”
The two pegasi spread their wings to the sky. Both of them took up a ready stance, setting their hooves into the cloud layer to ensure the best launch possible. Spitfire’s muscles had healed up since her mishap with the wall, and she was functioning at full capacity. She wasn’t gonna let Soarin’ have an easy flight.
“On three,” the mare announce. “One. Twothree!” Spitfire was off like the fiery bolt on her flank.
Soarin’ may have been caught off guard by his friend’s trickery, but he knew better and didn’t delay in taking flight after her. As fast as she was, Spitfire had let up a little to allow him to catch up just enough for him to yell out “You’ll have to try harder than that!”
As soon as the challenge was issued, the yellow-orange pegasus found her speed again and shot way out ahead.
“Show off,” were all the words Soarin’ could muster before pushing himself to match her speed.
When he did finally catch up to her, it was long after she had landed on the runway that stretched across the plateau among the clouds. She was frozen on her hooves in awe of everything around her.
"Quite a site, 'eh?" Soarin' asked, breaking the mare's stupor.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. It really is."
"You two," said a pegasi in a blue uniform and cap as he floated down toward them. The sun glinted off the mirrored aviators her wore, reflecting the power of his position. “Quit gawking and get to your training units.”
“Y-yes sir!” both recruits responded in unison. When the drill sergeant had passed beyond earshot, the two turned to each other and giggled to themselves at their unintentional harmony.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you ‘round,” Soarin’ said.
“So soon after we just met up?” asked Spitfire.
“You heard the stallion, we best be off to our assigned units. Don’t wanna start off on the wrong hoof, ya know?”
“Haha, right. Well, I’ll see you around then!”
“Ditto!”
The young fliers gave each other a short hug before trotting off in separate directions. While they had signed up together, they had been sorted into different units. The recruiter had been given specific instructions to place Spitfire into the Wonderbolt’s ace training unit. Though he didn’t fully understand why, he did as he was told. Soarin’ on the other hoof, had been put into one of the regular outfits. He wasn't terribly happy to be considered “average,” but it was certainly better than not having gotten in at all.
As Spitfire trotted along the rows and rows of buildings that lined the runway, she noticed how strikingly similar they were to each other. Now, there wasn’t ever a lot of variation in pegasi architecture, but all the buildings here were completely indistinguishable from each other. The only indications they gave as to their identity were the signs that had been hung above the doorways. The mare ignored most of what they said, though, as she was looking for one very specific building – the Alpha Barracks, residency of the ace training unit.
When she finally found the structure, it was no different from the rest, save for its location. It had been positioned at the very end of the row, near the edge of the plateau. Spitfire only assumed this was so they could have the best view possible.
She paused for a minute as she approached the door, reflecting on what she was about to step into. This would be the beginning of a new chapter in her life. It meant trying new things, finding new goals, and meeting new challenges. It also meant making new friends – and new enemies. The visions of flight school and the torment she faced from Silver Rush flooded back into her mind.
What if these elite fliers are like them? she asked herself. What if they reject me or try to bring me down?
No. She wasn’t about to give in to her fears before she met these ponies. To do so would have been giving up on her dream of becoming a full fledged Wonderbolt, and that wasn’t something she was about to do. Taking a deep breath and clearing her mind of her worries, she stepped up the short, wooden staircase and pushed open the door.
The sound of chatter hit her ears, though it immediately stopped as the occupants of the one-room barracks became aware of her presence. She looked around at all the ponies that now found themselves looking at her intently. Their eyes seemed to be judging her every move as she stood bewildered in the doorway.
Most of them were mares, with only 3 of them being colts. All of them appeared to be around the same age as Spitfire, perhaps only a year or two older. The uncomfortable silence and incredulous looks forced her to speak.
“I-is this the Alpha Barracks?” Spitfire asked, still a bit intimidated by the stares she was receiving. “I-I’m Spitfire, I was assigned to the ace training unit, starting today.”
The quiet persisted for a moment longer before the atmosphere in the room completely changed gears. The noiseless air became lively and everypony swarmed the new recruit with warm welcomes. Two of the mares who had not approached her with the rest of the masses stepped forward after the rest had cleared.
“Welcome to Alpha, Spitfire,” one of the pair greeted. “My name’s Storm Chaser, and this is Lightning Dancer.”
“P-pleased to meet you.” The orange mare was a little overwhelmed by her exceedingly hearty welcome, and wasn’t quite sure to expect from these two.
“Quite,” was Lightning Dancer’s only response; Storm Chaser simply remained silent.
“Where are you girls from?” Spitfire questioned.
“Canterlot. Both of us are from Canterlot,” Storm stated bluntly.
Lightning then added, “We’re sisters. Twins, to be precise.”
The resemblance between the two was impeccable, and Spitfire had noticed it when they first approached her. However, she didn’t want to say anything unless she was sure. Both were the same dark shade of blue as the twilight sky, with manes as white as the stars.
“Well, make yourself at home, I guess,” Storm Chaser said. “The bottom bunk at the back of the barracks is yours.”
“Thanks,” Spitfire replied. The two other mares turned and went back to their own business without saying anything else.
Well, they seemed nice enough, Spitfire mused to herself, but at least one of them seemed a bit too conceited.
The orange mare put her remarks aside and proceeded further into the barracks. Approaching her assigned bunk, the nervicitement she felt from finally being at the academy wilted a bit; the mattress was bare and almost looked to be less comfortable than the ground.
I guess glory doesn’t come without sacrifice. Still, I’m here, so I can’t complain.
After coming to terms with the fact that this would be her only place of solace in the coming months, Spitfire lay herself upon the bed. Thoughts about everything leading her up to this point washed over her mind. She had come a long way since she was a filly, and she smiled at every single memory she had of Soarin’ and herself. As she drifted through these memories, something broke in and pulled her away from them.
A sound outside the window nearest her bunk drew her attention. The mare sat up in her bed and peered out through the glass. In the fields behind the barracks, a group of ponies were attempting to march in formation – a horribly misshapen formation. Amidst the loose company was the real reason she continued to stare at their frivolous parade: the sky blue stallion with the spiky blue mane.
“LEFT! LEFT! LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT!” The drill sergeant barked repeated.
“Oh dear Celestia, it’s only our first day. This is murder.” The light green mare marching next to Soarin’ chided.
“We’ve only been marching for thirty minutes,” Soarin’ pointed out. “It’s not like we’ve had to run laps.”
One of the stallions flanking the party moved inward next to the pair. “You two! What’re your names and where are you from?”
The mare gave her new marching buddy a distasteful glare before responding to the stallion’s inquiry. “Rainy Haze, sir! I come from Fillydelphia, sir!”
“Good. And you?”
“M-my name’s Soarin’, sir! I’m from Cloudsdale!”
“Nice to meet you, Rainy Haze and Soarin’. Now give me 20 laps around the field! And make ‘em quick. You don’t wanna miss lunch, do ya?”
If looks could kill, Rainy would have struck the sky coloured pegasus next to her dead on the spot. She let out a disgusted sigh and pushed her way past him on her way out of the formation. Soarin’ followed, a little bewildered at what had just happened. As he trotted after his partner in crime, a golden-yellow face in a nearby window caught his gaze. The mare on the other side of the glass smiled and waved to him, and he returned the gesture.
“Soarin’! Get moving! NOW!” the instructor shouted behind him.
“A-alright, sir!” Soarin’ called back. The stallion then trotted off to run his laps. He quickly gained speed as his gait increased. A look of determination was plastered across his face along with a tremendous smile.
I’ll prove myself for you, Spitfire.
Spitfire lay back down on her new bed. All of her emotions faded away save for happiness. She could deal with the lesser regimented accommodations in order to be here. To be a wonderbolt. To be with her best friend. The sounds of the barracks droned on but she didn’t hear any of it; she was completely lost in thought.
However, that which is taken for granted is usually only noticed when it goes missing. The noise she had drowned out with her daydreaming suddenly ceased as the door to the barracks swung open abruptly. This swift change in atmosphere snapped her back to reality. When she looked to the door to see what had caused the disturbance, she sprung from the bed and took to attention like everypony else had.
“Alright, maggots, listen up!” The light green stallion in the entryway strode in with his head held high. “Today’s your first day of training. You will only refer to me as drill sergeant, captain, or sir. You will report to the fields immediately after lunch. You will march for as long as you are told. You will follow orders, and you will sweat out every last drop of pathetic pegasus sweat in you. Welcome to the academy. Now go eat.”
“Sir, yes sir!” the entire barracks sang at once.
Just as quickly as he had come in, Mist Flash spun on his hooves and trotted back out of the barracks. He was a completely different pony than Spitfire remembered. She had seen his softer side before, and she knew he wasn’t normally this stringent. It was likely that he had to take up this tougher mask while under the drill sergeant’s cap; he was training the elites after all.
After the stallion had departed, the barracks returned to life as everypony finished their conversations from before. Those who didn’t seek to continue talking began to file out of the building in search of the mess hall. Spitfire’s stomach growled loudly at her; she hadn’t eaten anything yet and her nervousness was eating away at her. She, too, made her way outside and towards the dining hall. As she approached the building, a voice behind her brought her hunger-driven advance to a halt.
“Yo, Spitfire!” The golden mare spun round to see Soarin’ running up to her. Behind him, Rainy Haze was dragging along. She was panting heavily and hung her head low, looking defeated.
“Hey Soarin’. Have fun with your laps?” she joked.
The stallion glowered a little at her but relented and let out a good chuckle. “Haha, of course! Gotta take what they dish out if I wanna make it, don’t I?”
“Psssh. Don’t get so full of yourself, ya big show off.” Spitfire gave him a friendly shove with her hoof. “C’mon, let’s go get some food.”
“M-may I join you?”
Rainy Haze stepped up to the pair as they turned to face her. Her head was still hung low and she didn’t dare meet Soarin’s eyes, but it didn’t seem as if she were mad at him still. Instead the glances she did give him were more out of her own shame than out of hate.
“Sure,” Spitfire answered, “we’d love to have you join us. I’m Spitfire, by the way. I take it you’ve already met Soarin’ here?”
“T-thanks.” The downtrodden mare raised her head a little, a weak smile finding its way onto her face. “I’m Rainy Haze. And yes, I have.”
“Pleased to meet you Rainy,” Spitfire responded before spinning ‘round again.
The trio made their way into the mess hall, ready for their much-needed food. Inside, the building was filled with rows upon rows of tables. The tables were busy with ponies eating and making small talk in between bites. On either of the side walls were a succession of counters, set up buffet style and filled with all sorts of grasses and flowers.
The three pegasi grabbed what looked good as they made their way through the lines. Spitfire took a daffodil and wheat bread sandwich with apple sauce on the side and a glass of lemonade. It was a simple meal, and didn’t really look that great, but it would have to do.
After the three gathered their lunches they met up to look for a table. Almost all the seats were taken, but just when they were about to give up Spitfire spotted an opening across the room next to the two mares she had bet in her barracks.
“Over there,” she said. “I think I found us a couple of seats.”
The group worked their way through the maze of tables and ponies. When they got there, the table was barely occupied. All of the ponies who ringed it were from the same elite unit as Spitfire and were engaged in their own conversation; they didn’t even notice the trio at first.
It wasn’t until the three of them sat down that the banter at the table ceased. All eyes turned on the newcomers and an eerie silence fell, lost in the surrounding noise of the cafeteria. Storm Chaser was the first to speak.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’d imagine we’re sitting,” Soarin’ jested.
Storm didn’t like that, but it was Lightning Dancer that spoke their minds. “Exactly. What do you think you you’re doing sitting at our table?”
“What do you mean?” Rainy questioned timidly.
“Well, Spitfire’s more than welcome to sit here,” Storm Chaser informed them, “but you two aren’t.”
“This table has traditionally been Alpha-only,” Lighting added.
“So what‽” Spitfire challenged, raising her voice a bit and bringing a hush over much of the cafeteria. She didn’t care that most ponies were staring at her now.
These two had seemed nice enough when she first met them, and even if they did have a big ego, she didn’t expect this. The way they were treating Soarin’ and Rainy was starting to border on the same sort of behaviour she had to put up with during flight school. She wasn’t going to have any of it.
“So what?” Storm and Lighting echoed simultaneously, both looking shocked that somebody would talk back to them. They exchanged glances before coming up with a response. “So, you are an elite in the Wonderbolts. You are one of us, and why should we—mingle—with the lesser recruits?”
“Lesser recruits‽” Soarin’ shouted back. “Why I oughta…”
“Soarin’, stay cool,” Spitfire said, putting a hoof to her friend. “You want me to sit here or not?”
Storm responded coolly, “Of course we do. But dump the rabble.”
“If you want me to sit here, my friends stay,” Spitfire demanded. “Don’t like it, then maybe I don’t want to be one of you.”
By now the entire mess hall had gone silent with everypony staring at the quarrel unfolding before them. Nopony was moving and all activity had ceased completely. A tense air hung about the place, and the pressure was on both parties involved in the controversy. Spitfire didn’t give a buck.
The two mares stared at each other, Spitfire’s dark orange eyes locked intently on Storm Chaser’s teal blue. “F-fine,” Storm finally gave up.
The cafeteria sprung back to life, and the tension relaxed. Spitfire and those at the formerly Alpha-only table continued with their meals. Storm Chaser said nothing more during the duration of their lunch, choosing instead to gaze off into her own little spot on the walls.
“Thanks,” Spitfire said to her when they had all finished eating, but Storm didn’t respond. The orange mare turned to Soarin’ and Rainy and all three just shrugged. Before they had time to question it further, the door at the end of the building swung open and a trio of ponies in training officer uniforms entered, led by Mist Flash.
“Alright, everypony on their hooves; lunch is over,” he yelled. “Training for all units begins in 10 minutes. Anypony late to their units will be scrubbing latrines all night. Hop to it!”
Again, Mist Flash retreated as swiftly as he had entered. Chaos was left in his wake as the ponies scrambled to clean up and get their flanks in motion. Nopony wanted to be late. Spitfire, Soarin’, and Rainy Haze exchanged their goodlucks and went off on their way. This was go time.
Chapter 4 - Wings So Bright
Flying in a Blue Dream
Chapter Four - Wings So Bright
A full seven suns had passed since the start of training for Spitfire and Soarin’. Their days so far had mostly consisted of running laps, timed obstacle courses, and other basic physical training. They hadn’t even left the ground other than typical day-to-day flying just to stretch their wings. Today was set to be their very first day of their flight exercises, and Spitfire could barely contain her excitement. This would be her chance to finally show her stuff, to impress the brass, and to wow her squad mates.
“Alright, maggots!” Mist Flash yelled at the lines of trainees spread out before him. “Today you get to earn your wings.”
“Sir, yes sir!” the recruits shouted back all at once.
“Now, most of you might be asking, ‘So what is our challenge today, captain?’ Well let me give you the rundown: You will start off with a simple cloud-ring slalom to show your navigation sense. Then you’ll round the cloud at the end of that slalom followed by a steep dive straight down the edge of the academy plateau. After that, you’ll demonstrate your ability to pull out of a descent by leveling out just above the treetops of the forest below before returning back here. Simple child’s play really, but there is a catch; you will be timed during your trials and any we deem to be too slow will be rooted out. Got it?”
“Sir, yes sir!”
“Good. As always, we’ll have the elites start first.” He turned and trotted to one end of the line. Pulling out a stopwatch and placing a hoof on the stallion who stood at the end of the row. “One at a time, down the rank, on my mark. Ready?”
The whole succession of pegasi, including Spitfire, steadied themselves for take off and nodded.
“First flier, go!”
The stallion Mist Flash had stood next to took off quickly. His flight was uneasy at first but it began to balance out as he choked down the nerves and began his performance. Spitfire watched him go as she stretched her wings and prepared for her turn. Four of her squadron mates would get their chance before her, but she was determined to set the bar higher than the rest.
Following the stallion into flight was Storm Chaser. She took off before Mist Flash could finish calling, “Next flier!”
“Erm, okay,” he stuttered a bit. “N-next flier!”
Lightning Dancer shot after her sister. Her maneuvers were fluid and graceful where Storm Chaser’s proved to be much more reckless and daring. Despite the differences in their technique, their flight pattern and speed were perfectly in sync.
“Next flier!”
Silver Wing, the mare next to Spitfire, spread her wings and took flight. That was the last one before the excited orange pegasus would have her turn. A deep breath seeped through her lips and into her lungs. Her wings spread to their fullest and flexed in preparation. Her hooves shifted to a ready position. A dogged smile stretched across her face. She was ready.
“Next flier!”
Spitfire vacated her spot in line in a fiery blur, replaced by little more than a swirling cloud of dust. The rush of wind ran through her normally brushed-down mane, sweeping it back and causing it to flow like a flame behind her. That flame licked at her wings as they beat with a determined ferociousness. Every beat they took was in perfect rhythm with the beat of her heart. Every pocket of air they gathered beneath themselves pushed her forward with ever increasing speed. The adrenaline pumped through her body and a strange yet familiar euphoria came over her. It was then that her straight flight broke right.
She had reached the slalom part of the course, and she wasn’t about to let a few rings get in her way. Her body slid side to side as she made her way through the rings. A few near-calls brought her wings within inches of touching the fluffy clouds, and they seemed to be getting tighter and tighter around her. She was unsure if that was actually the case, or if it was simply the tunnel vision she had from moving so fast. Her eyes then lay upon something freeing.
The last ring. That was all her mind could process in excess to her bodily flight controls.
Her wings tilted ever so slightly to one side and they carried her swiftly toward the direction of that final gate. She leveled out again as she passed through the circular band of water vapor, but as she cleared the obstacle something about her wingtip felt oddly off; it was damp. She didn’t dare take the time to look back, though she had a good idea what had happened. Instead, she just pressed onward.
Her wings brought her in close to the large cloud that marked the end of the slalom as she began to circle it. One lap and she tore away from her orbit around the earthly, white nebula. A minor adjustment in-flight and her back faced downward. Then another and she found herself plummeting downward at a tremendous velocity, her body moving parallel to the cliff face that whizzed by behind her back.
Her wings had tucked in snug against the sides of her body. A couple of feathers stretched out for a split second and again she rolled over in the air. Her eyes were fixed upon the quickly approaching ground below her. Every fraction of a second they were sizing up the best possible moment for her to pull out of the dive. Then they found it. Her wings flared out right on time and the air that caught underneath them jerked her acceleration to a halt and began to slow her descent.
Once she reached the ideal speed she adjusted and began to flap those majestic orange wings again in an attempt to persuade the downward momentum forward instead. Her hoof brushed gently across the treetops but she had pulled herself out of the dive just in time to keep herself from crashing and burning. She couldn’t hesitate to catch her breath, however. There was still the longest stretch left, and her wingbeats immediately propelled her upwards with every ounce of energy she still had left.
Again the cliffside sped past her in an earthy blur. This time, it moved counter to her in the opposite direction and she drove herself back towards the sky above.
Very little time passed before she reached the peak of her flight and the cliff shot away from her as it flattened out. Her wings rolled her over and back, bringing her body’s orientation to be hooves down. Again her feathers flared to catch the wind, and she slowly descended. One hoof touched down, then another. At last, she furled her wings up to her sides and trotted back into formation.
Much of the line had taken off and were completing their runs as she rested her flank back in the attentive position. A slight look around at those still on the ground, and she felt a little burst of confidence surge through herself. Everypony had just that little speck of awe in their eyes as they met hers.
“Well, well. Quite the hotshot we have here,” Mist Flash quipped as he approached the line-up.
“They don’t call me Spitfire for nothing, Sir.”
Her trainer chuckled slightly. “Don’t get too cocky there. You may have had the best time, but not by much.”
Spitfire heard Storm Chaser mutter a quick, “Beginner’s luck,” under her breath.
Mist Flash continued, “Your wingtip touched one of the rings during the slalom and the penalty was just shy of knocking you out of the lead. The twins here were hot on your tailfeathers. Both of them were well within a split second of catching you.” He turned and continued down the line. “The rest of you, though, were a good second behind all three of them. You all need to pick up the pace if you’re gonna want to keep u—”
Spitfire tuned out her trainer’s words as her eyes met with the death glare Storm was giving her. The orange mare shrunk back a little, breaking the imaginary doom rays she was receiving. She quickly scanned over the crowd again, until her gaze fell in line with another familiar face – this one being much more welcoming. The soft green eyes and light blue coat of her friend were complimented well by the great white smile below them.
Soarin’s expression was entirely of surprise as his eyes traced Spitfire’s movements through the sky. She was a thing to behold as she flew seemingly effortlessly through the sky. Her every wingbeat was both carefully timed and forcibly powerful.
His heart skipped and the feeling of a lump wedged itself in his throat. Over the course of the week he had begun to realize just why he was so drawn to her. She was stunningly beautiful, strong, brave, and above all else, driven to succeed. That fiery mare embodied everything he felt he was not. He was no match for her – in the air or in matters of the heart. She had slain him without even trying.
As she began her descent below the top of the plateau, he leaned forward tracking her movement until she disappeared below the top of the cliff. It was as if she had dove straight into the ground, just as his face met the dirt when he stumbled over from the angle of his cant.
His squad mates laughed at his clumsy mistake and he quickly pulled himself back up, spitting the dirt from his mouth and tidying his uniform. Fortunately, Mist Flash was still busy sounding off the others to take their turns. He had dodged the humiliation of being chewed out for his mistake this time. Breathing a sigh of relief he turned his attention skyward again. His eyes finally settled once more on Spitfire as she approached for landing; even her touch down was graceful.
“Well, well. Quite the hotshot we have here,” their instructor praised the mare as she fell back into line.
“They don’t call me Spitfire for nothing, Sir.”
“Don’t get too cocky there. You may have had the best time, but not by much,” Mist Flash retorted. “Your wingtip touched one of the rings during the slalom and the penalty was just shy of knocking you out of the lead. The twins here were hot on your tailfeathers. Both of them were well within a split second of catching you. The rest of you, though, were a good second behind all three of them. You all need to pick up the pace if you’re gonna want to keep u—”
Soarin found himself impressed with his friend and was beaming at what his crush had accomplished. Her time was among the best, and as an elite, it was unlikely anyone else would touch her. His attention was focused solely on her, even as Mist Flash continued barking out whatever it was he was on about. Then her eyes met his and for some measure time stopped for both of them.
Geeze, she really is beautiful. Soarin’s thoughts ran away from him as he held her gaze. Both of their faces flushed red but neither seemed willing to break the trance. Mist Flash, however, was.
“Soarin!” he yelled into the stallion’s ear. “Quit lollygagging at the fairer sex and make your run before I make you run!”
The blue pegasus snapped back to reality and without thinking shot into the sky startledly. His motions were unbalanced and awkward as he put his derailed thoughts back on track. He hit two rings full bore during the slalom and swung wide during the lap around the large cloud, both of which would affect his time tremendously.
As he rolled over to begin his descent down the cliffside he took a deep breath and calmed his mind. His vision at the end of the roll landed square on Spitfire who was watching him intently with a smile spread across her muzzle. She raised a hoof and waved to him during during that short moment. His heart missed another beat and his wings acted on their own. His forward momentum succumbed to the downward pull of gravity and he dropped like a boulder.
The rocky wall of the cliff went by at unimaginable speeds as the pegasus sorted through his thoughts. All of them led to one thing: this was his chance to impress her . He realized how quickly he was falling, but instead of panicking, his nerves steeled. Instead of flaring his wings to control his plunge, he tucked them in tighter. His hooves pulled inward toward his body. He brought his head in line with his back. His mane blew behind him, whipping around like a flag in a hurricane. The air in front of him began to bend and shape to his aerodynamic cone. The ground grew closer. And closer.
Before the atmosphere broke around him, he spread his wings just enough to control the vector of his flight, bringing it up and out of the drop, away from the ground. The forces exerted upon his body were immense and he started to see black. Out of instinct rather than training, he grunted deeply, forcing blood back into his head and the grey patches of his vision returned to normal as he finished leveling out.
The cone that formed around him had disappeared, and he was still moving at subsonic speeds, but only just. His velocity was insane and he made as much use of it as he could. Grunting again, his swept-back wings turned the momentum upward back into the sky. Without a single wingbeat he rocketed back over the top of the plateau, rolled over and aimed back toward the landing field. Finally, his wings slowly unfurled as he bled off the remaining speed.
His hooves found soft grass and he took a deep breath. Scanning the lines of trainees for that same golden mare he who had set his mind straight, he began to notice everypony’s jaws were albeit on the ground; even Mist Flash’s. When his searching gaze landed upon Spitfire, even her mouth was agape.
Mist Flash was the first to regain his composure, looking at the stopwatch he had, fortunately, remembered to stop. Soarin could tell he did a doubletake and was doing his best to keep from letting his muzzle fall open again. His gestures then were indicative that he was figuring the penalty times in his head. When he finally ceased, his continued efforts to keep his trap shut failed.
“I–I can’t believe this.” His body language showed that his was running through the math again, checking his stopwatch over and over. Murmurs began to shift through the crowd as their stupor slowly faded. “Well I’ll be.”
The stallion stepped out, about faced and called everypony to attention. Soarin, still out of formation quickly fell back into line, only to find it was a vain effort.
“Soarin, hurry your flank up here, double time!”
The blue pegasus made his way back up to the front of the group and to where Mist Flash was standing. “Y–yes, sir?”
“Speak with a bit more authority son. You’ve just earned yourself a step up the ladder.”
“I’m sorry, sir? How’s that?”
Mist Flash faced the crowd. “Orchid Sky, your time was the slowest in your unit. Please take Soarin’s place in his flight.”
The stallion from the elite squadron hung his head a bit and slunk back to where Soarin had fallen in not long ago. Mist Flash turned back to the recruit next to him.
“Son, you had a time only a hundredth of a second slower than Ms. Spitfire’s here. And that’s after your rocky start put penalties onto your time. Anypony who can recover from the startling I gave you, and those initial mishaps to set a time like that has a lot more potential than we originally thought. From this day forward recruit, you will be training with the elites.” His hoof struck Soarin’s back in vigorous jest. “Congratulations!”
Either the strain Soarin had put on his body caught up to him, or he was simply a victim of shock. Black flushed through his vision and the pegasus fainted then and there.
