Spitfire’s words gradually began to take over her thoughts. Immediately her speed increased considerably as she tilted her head toward the glowing sun — staring into the endless sea of clouds — then hurling further up into the skies. The wind whipped at her face, stinging and slashing away at any flesh within its reach.
Continuing without hesitation, she soared higher and higher until erupting into a rapid burst of speed, firing like a torpedo, and ripping effortlessly through the fluffy white clouds above. The bright shining sun, now beginning to level with the rising pegasus, fueled and aided her swift pace as she proceeded to soar forth once more.
Though, almost as fast as she had begun shooting through the skies, she steadily slowed in speed. No longer did the agonizing wind inflict pain, but instead provided a gentle caressing breeze upon her face. Her entire being began to relax and loosen as she drooped her eyes with a heavy sigh.
She floated mid-air, and her wings translated into a steady flap. The yellow ball of light shimmered behind her, warming the fluttering wings and sending a pleasant pulse of energy through the floating pony.
The air surrounding her felt like sub-zero; acting as a sharp prickly weapon — a barrage of needles shooting through her whole body. But as the pain eventually began to dull, she smirked, and that smirk was more powerful than it ever was before.
And in all this, she struggled to believe something like it could be called “Flight Training”.
She was ready.
The world was hers.
Without hesitation her eyes glanced below yet again, and she dropped straight-down, switching expeditiously into a reckless dive. She sped downward without a care in all existence, exhilarated, ignoring the incessant rushing of wind. And as she continued to fall at an increasing rate, she mind not enough to peek at the skies she sped through. After all, she’d seen them many times before, and the feeling of sightless exhilaration felt like no other. She put her mind at rest.
But although her joy-dive took place at an extraordinary altitude in the faraway sky, the pegasus could straight-away sense that something was forthcoming. Automatically her eyes flew open, only to find that she was nearing the earth below.
Her smirk spread wider.
She broadened her hooves forth in another attempt to speed onward. Her stance shifted, and she now endeavored for a showboarding spiral downward towards the ever-approaching land below. In a blur, she exhibited a wide spectacle of tricks at an extreme pace, topped off with only an exuberant laugh.
Though, shortly following, she heaved an onerous sigh. The fun she was experiencing was practically unmatched, however she yearned for so much more. To compensate for her boundless desire, she found that the only solution was to land and start yet again for another try — to try for something even more.
Far below her, houses and ponies of all different shapes, sizes, and colors — lined in rows, in columns, all together formed the tranquil town of Ponyville. Each pony minded their own; going and running about, going on with meaningless blithe banter that spanned across the entirety of the town.
She lowered herself leisurely to hover above the homes and their cheerful citizens. Several stallions and mares alike broke their routines and pointed at the flying pegasus, now watchfully examining and studying her.
“It’s Rainbow Dash!” one shouted.
Rainbow Dash turned her head, only to find the town below in a cacophonous uproar.
With a widening grin, she instinctively knew what she would do next. After all, she had an audience.
Almost automatically, she broke into a colossal amount of speed that rivaled even sound. Again she shifted into a rainbow-colored blur, attempting to perform the previous array of tricks and spectacles, but in an even more alarming pace.
The townsponies simultaneously began to applaud and cheer at the sudden remarkable display, enthralled and mesmerized.
She perpetuated, gaining momentum with each passing moment, but Spitfire’s words still rang eternally in her head:
“It's not just about pushing ourselves. It's about pushing ourselves in the right direction.”
As in response, she took a brief nod. She forcefully began to slow, fading back to her original appearance, then taking a sigh. Her eyes shut, and she took numerous deep breaths in exhaustion.
Many ponies concluded their cheers and applause with pleased smiles; each quite content for having encountered such a wondrous sight. Rainbow Dash continued to glide at a standard pace, but looked upon their wonderful smiles in unmistakable glee — glad that she was able to make such a large sum of ponies so jovial with her talents and abilities.
Though, for Rainbow Dash, that happiness didn't seem to last quite too long.
In an exceedingly abrupt booming thud, Rainbow Dash had struck face-first powerfully into an exceptionally tall house, one stretching far beyond that in height than many of the other homes beside it. She succumbed to an immediate halt, then drifted downward into the audience of ponies that all resumed to watch her, but now instead with concerned eyes.
Muffled screams, then stillness.
…
From then, there was nothing but silence for days. But those days passed, and Rainbow Dash had awoke to find herself under a thin layer of baby blue sheets, on a soft mattress. Wrapped around her head was a bandage, and she wore a uniform similar in color to that of the bed sheets.
“Woah, déjà-vu…” she muttered to herself dreamily. She planned to continue talking to herself in her sluggish state, but a voice was heard from the far end of a hall — beyond the open door of the room she rested in, and she reconsidered.
“She must take a break from her activities, and be more careful from now on,” a doctor stated in a calming tone. “She’s got a concussion. A bad one, at that.”
Rainbow Dash lie barely awake and fighting sleep in her hospital bed. The hour was likely 1 or 2 AM, though she did not have anything with her to confirm this assumption.
Even so, in her desperate attempts to stay awake, slowly the world began to fade right before her eyes.
The room turned to a pitch-black, and from that black came a world of color. The surroundings materialized, and melted into the town of Ponyville.
…
“Dashie! Snap out of it!” Pinkie shouted in between a frenzied flurry of signals in a hope of trying to catch her attention, “Finish your story!”
Rainbow Dash was dazed, daydreaming of a truly dreadful flashback of the far past. She emerged entirely apologetically. “What? Oh, Pinkie…”
A relieved grin spread across Pinkie‘s worried face. “I’ve been waiting for almost 30 seconds!” she adjusted the scowl, “What happened, Dashie?”
Nearly a month ago, Rainbow Dash, along with a small group of pegasi, was assigned an “obstacle course test“. The test required that any Year 2 Wonderbolt-in-training go through a rigorous training course composed of a wide array of obstructions. The pegasus would be timed for their speed, and graded on their performance and agility in avoiding and crossing the obstacles.
This test would come in three parts, along with the last featuring an unsupervised “journey” to obtain a certain object pinpointed to be a fair distance away. Graded by their time, they would return with this object and that score would mix with the scores of the previous assessments.
The following tests were necessary to proceed in education to one day become a Wonderbolt, and of which marked the conclusion of Year 2 Training. The test would be taking place on the following day.
Rainbow Dash herself held high hopes for the third and final part of her test; indeed confident in her ability to not only pass, but greatly surpass the required time. However, the thought of both the first and second sections of the approaching test were frightening. She sought someone to offer advice on the matter, and possibly work to resolve her fear.
Shaking her head rapidly, Rainbow Dash sprung back to life. “Sorry. I… I think I was just thinking of what happened… Last year…”
In the mess of colors that were now coming together, she caught glimpses of the burning sun, the lines and rows of houses, the crowds of happy-go-lucky ponies wandering the green grass — all now coming together to form the lively town of Ponyville in its entirety. A bright and sunny day it was, almost radiating happiness in itself.
“Oh, are you worried about those silly tests you’re telling me about? Really, don’t worry, Dashie!” she turned her head cheerfully, “That was a year ago, and it will never happen again, right?”
She stomped her hoof with emphasis, now wholly again immersed in her conversation with Pinkie Pie. “But what if it does, Pinkie? Because of that, I was weeks behind in my training! It was luckthat I haven’t had something that dangerous in the past year, don’t you understand?”
Conflicted, Pinkie tried to fight an impending sigh. “I don‘t know… Maybe you can…—” she cut herself off, realizing the possibility of saying something that she’d later be forced to take back.
Much to Pinkie‘s dismay, Rainbow Dash questioned her unfinished statement. “I can…?”
“Maybe you can…” she released her sigh, “Try to be really really careful, but still be trying?”
Hearing the statement, the pegasus couldn’t help but grow weary. “I — did just that when I crashed back then,” she followed her pink friend’s example, heaving a heavy sigh, “But, you already know that, don’t you?”
Pinkie nodded.
With her newfound exhaustion, she reluctantly turned away from the pony that stood facing her. “Thanks for trying to help, Pinkie,” she kicked a pebble, “I think I’ll see Twilight. Maybe she’ll know what to do.”
Her wings came to life, spanning wide at their full length. And as Rainbow Dash began to steer away, she stole a glance back behind the wings, giving a final smile to Pinkie Pie before her take-off. Pinkie looked at her and erupted into a joyful fit of goodbye waves, beaming.
Now taking to the skies, the pleasant view of Ponyville withered further and further away until it was nothing. She dared not look back, for while she did indeed plan to visit Twilight, she acknowledged that in her worst times, only flying was what made her think clearly.
And as she hoped, the cooling, crisp clime soothed Rainbow Dash’s concerns and worries as she flew onward at a thoroughly brisk pace. If not for just that very moment, she seemed completely carefree. However, that moment seemed short-lived.
The problem was clear — whether or not she should go on with the test that was undeniably taking place that very day. Only, she knew she right now had nothing to help her in her decision on what it was she had to do. Nonetheless, working to find an answer to the following sudden problem, she knew the answer was lodged somewhere in her head.
Though, her thoughts clashed and collided with one another, creating total confusion and unavoidable anxiety. Each idea undisputedly contradicted with its foil, and only then did Rainbow Dash know that this was worry.
It was worry. Fear. Creating paranoia, pushing her down. The past events now caught up and lingered in the present. She discovered that she feared the decision to go on with the test to no end. And the more she considered a choice or the other, the more she spiraled down into her own world of confusion. She did battle in her mind, still sliding through the air. Until, it came down to a single, final statement.
Pushing in even the right direction to risk even a minuscule mistake on what was upcoming, or not push at all.
Only when that statement came up did she realize the true danger of flying. The process — flying — was filled with dangers that deem to be utterly unavoidable. Even her idol, Spitfire, and what she said was flawed in one sense or another. The entire topic was perplexing, even to someone as quick-thinking as herself. But, that’s what it was essentially — if flying was really worth it?
Although her mind was twisted like a corkscrew, relief now washed over the pegasus. She knew the cause, and as painful as the truth was, she now intended to genuinely do something about it. The forthcoming visit to Twilight Sparkle would be the only possible solution, and one that she hoped would work.
In her urgently ascending crisis, she could not help but wonder and think about how fast the year had gone by. The thought was somehow calming. To think, only a year ago she just enlisted in Wonderbolt Academy! The memories, the experiences, it felt like it all passed by in a flash. Wonderful times at Wonderbolt Academy. And if she were not to go, they would be all gone, wouldn’t they?
With a slight delay, Rainbow Dash attempted to take away focus from her own mind for a short time, putting priority on her flight to Twilight’s home. She made her way through the empty, void sky with ease, though still battling with the constantly returning blows of paranoia and fear.
The air fought with nothing, giving no resistance to the twitchy twists and turns made by Rainbow Dash. The sun shined brighter with every passing moment, almost blinding the pony with its vivid light. And the sky that surrounded and enveloped her could not have been any more blue. The positive environment was nothing short of palpable.
With the day’s guidance, she was finally at rest, and hopeful of what was to come in her inevitable visit to Twilight. Entirely absorbed in her own thoughts, the navigation to her friend’s home came almost instinctively. Time seemed to speed up, as she herself did. Minutes turned to seconds, and seconds became nothing.
After all, she had already arrived.
Rainbow Dash directly faced the door of Twilight’s tree-home. Almost out of nervousness, she made an expression of angst. Thoughts of hers remained unsorted, and although that was why she had come to visit, the subject matter itself had become beyond displeasing. Was talking to Twilight really her solution?
Reluctantly she raised a hoof and knocked gently on the door, sighing deeply. In a few brief moments, a purple figure came solemnly to open the door. She stood there at the doorway, and immediately a cheerful grin spread across her face at the sight of her dear friend.
Filled with sincerity, she gazed at Rainbow Dash. The pony before her appeared drained, exhausted, and sporting off nothing more than sorrow. Twilight Sparkle’s demeanor quickly wore off.
She turned her head in worrisome curiosity. “Rainbow Dash, what’s wrong…?”
Knowing not where to begin, Rainbow Dash simply gazed back. “Can I come inside, Twilight?”
“Of course!” Twilight nodded sternly and opened the door wider, giving a clear pathway for the dejected pegasus.
Stepping inside, not wary of her surrounds, Rainbow Dash made her way to a table in a nearby room with her head hung downward. Twilight joined her, following with genuine concern. Each respectively sat down across from one another, and began to stare without a sound.
“What’s wrong…?” her concern growing, asking in an echo.
Across from her came a deep breath. “It’s what happened — last year — you know — the crash?”
Making a look of uneasiness, Twilight merely nodded, signifying that she allowed continuation.
“I’m getting a test — an obstacle course — to pass this year of Wonderbolt Training. It totally sounds like no problem for me, but…” she paused, filling with disinclination, “I’m-I’m scared of what happened last year…”
Fighting an urge to speak prematurely, Twilight first went into a state of deep thought before a response. “Are you asking about what I think you should do?”
“I don’t know, Twilight. But, I definitely need help,” her voice quivered slightly.
Once again, Twilight contemplated before she spoke, looking away from her partner. “I’m sorry to say this, but we all take risks sometimes, Rainbow Dash. Are you saying you’d rather fail a year of Wonderbolt Academy than take a small risk?”
Hurt, Rainbow Dash squeezed her eyes shut. “I have a really bad feeling about it, Twilight…”
“I’m sorry… I can tell that it’s hard for you, but sometimes, we need to face our fears. That’s what I think,” she awaited a reply, but none came, “You can’t end your dream because you’re afraid of something that happened last year — right?”
With an additional sigh, the pegasus considered her suggestions. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt so bad about something before.”
“That could be because you’re just feeling a bit paranoid. If you think about something too much, it can wear you down,” she leaned in closer before proceeding, “And you’ll feel much better once you do it. I know it.”
Rainbow Dash managed a small smile. “Thanks.”
“When is the test?” also trying for a brighter mood.
Having heard the question, Rainbow Dash’s minute smile faded away, and she grew weary once more. “It’s today. In a couple hours.”
“T-today? You haven’t told us before?” Twilight inquired, suddenly dumbstruck.
“I thought I had it under control, and I would surprise you when I got my awesome score. I didn’t know all this would come up,” her statement contained no emotion, being both plain and candid.
“Are you sure you should stay here? I think preparing can clear your mind, and help you with your test, especially since it’s coming so soon,” Twilight provided a final suggestion, again her face twisting into that of valid concern.
“You’re probably right, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash arose from her seat, and right away went for the door. “Thanks again.”
Back at her table, the purple figure rested her cheek on a hoof with increasingly mounting worry. “Good luck..”
Armed with a new perspective, Rainbow Dash now exited the tranquil treehouse. Outside, the day had remained at its pleasant merry state, ensuring that there was no better day for flying through the skies. Not a cloud was to be seen, and the sun had died down in its exceptionally excessive brightness. Ponies were understandably abuzz in avid excitement, that present in both Ponyville and Cloudsdale alike.
She returned to her rightful spot in the empty world of blue, once more trailing with a mind unable to conjure even a single idea. A single direction, any toward one way or the other. The test, however much equipped with new information and perspectives, still concerned her to no end. Twilight could not have been more correct, but then why had she still felt so bad inside?
She lacked more perspective. That could have easily been the answer to the following question she pondered in her head. And while it may or may have not been the truth, nothing was to be taken as correct. But, it was indeed the only answer that stuck out in her mind, or rather any that stuck at all.
As a result, she knew that only visiting another one of her very best friends could be the solution. And the answer of who came almost in an instant. There was nobody else so kind, honest, smart, and helpful as Applejack. She cared for all her friends more than she could even compare — though, like the feeling of fear and concern itself, the thought of Applejack came automatically with only slight reason, and not definite reason.
Time was of an essence on her trip to Sweet Apple Acres. As she had mentioned to her purple friend, the test began in approximately an hour and half. In that time, she concluded that she must chat with Applejack, make a final decision, then go through a speedy practice routine if she was to go. Afterward, she would arrive at Cloudsdale, ready to be called upon for her turn on the test. And, if she were not to go, then even she did not know what was to happen.
The choice seemed obvious. Twilight was right, everyone would need to take risks at some point or another. Though, as her thoughts began to form on her visit, she came upon a realization. Did she really need all that risk in her life? Did she need to be a Wonderbolt? It would only bring along more risk in the future. Endless amounts of risk. It was her dream, but did she really need to be a Wonderbolt to fly and have fun?
Soaring all through the wind-washed sky was nothing less of an impulse as she went further and further into deep thought. The feeling of flying felt like zero to her. In her current state, it no longer stimulated her, nor brought upon a good time. It felt sickening. Painful. Never before had such an impact been brought upon by anything similar to the experience. And, if she were not to go, all these negative feelings would be all gone, wouldn’t they?
With each passing moment, the sickness would expand. With each passing moment, she desired less and less to be a Wonderbolt at all. The dream was dying, and it was stuck. Stuck to its inevitable death. Even so, all along she knew that she was getting so worked up over a past event that was long past, long gone. But, the pain of the past had forcefully caught up to her, and the despair she felt was as real as it was unavoidable.
Sweet Apple Acres was now just below. She descended in her flight with the air giving no defiance, and landed on a small patch of land located directly by Applejack’s home. Approaching to give the door a knock, she was spotted by none other than the pony she herself had been searching for.
Applejack began to rush to her beloved friend with spirits spanning high above the ocean of blue above. “Hey! Rainbow Dash!”
From afar, Rainbow Dash shouted with no sentiment. “Hey Applejack!”
A moment of silence spawned between the two as the pegasus stood still, waiting patiently for the earth pony to reach her. And as soon as the moment had been generated, it was completed.
Now standing in front of the huffing-puffing fatigued Applejack was a Rainbow Dash that looked dead both on the inside and outside. She wore a frown, and her stance shifted gawkily as she struggled to retain her attention on the pony facing her.
“What’s wrong, sugarcube?” Applejack raised an eyebrow, “Are you okay?”
Rainbow Dash found it difficult to keep her composure in check. “No.”
Taken aback, Applejack shut her eyes and put on a grimace. “Shucks, sorry about that…” she broadened her view, looking past her, “Do ya’ care to tell me why?”
“It’s the crash from last year. It’s really bothering me, Applejack,” across from her, Applejack attempted an answer, but was interrupted, “I have a dangerous test that I need to do to pass this year in about an hour. I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Hold on, there’s a big test in an hour, and you haven’t told any of us ‘bout it?” her concern intensified.
Heaving a laborious sigh, Rainbow Dash began to reconsider her decision to talk to her friend. “Sorry, Applejack. I told Twilight and Pinkie Pie, and I’m telling you now.”
“Oh, ‘course it’s alright. I’m just a bit worried, that’s all,” she circumspectly used a hoof to lift her Stetson Hat high above her face, “I’m here, Rainbow. What’s wrong?”
Her reconsideration shattered, and the blue pony tried a thankful smile. “The test — I have a really bad feeling about it. It’s like it’ll end up like the crash from last year.”
Returning the smile, she made a grin of her own. “If you wanna know what I think, I think that you gotta try. You can’t give up on your dream of bein’ a Wonderbolt because of some silly thing that happened a long time ago, right?”
The situation was almost inspiring. The mutual concern and happiness between the two caused a new feeling to invoke in Rainbow Dash. “Are you kidding? No way!”
“There’s the Rainbow I know! I coulda’ swore I forgot who you were for a sec there,” her tone was that of pure joy.
“But… I’m still a bit afraid,” once more, Applejack began to speak, but Rainbow Dash cut it off in an ultimate urgency, “Oh, I won’t have any time to practice! Sorry Applejack, thanks a lot!”
The earth pony gave a wave, signifying a goodbye. “No problem. You’ll do great.”
Doing the same and having concluded their brief conversation, Rainbow Dash dashed forth for a running start to her take-off.
Now in the sky once more, the pegasus took to thinking as she did before. It was easily assumed that the test likely come in a matter of 50 minutes or so. And in that time, she formed a plan to practice vigorously in order to prepare.
Her friends were absolutely right. The thought of ever thinking different on the matter was almost ludicrous. Moreover, she found it nearly impossible to believe that her demeanor shifted with such ease, especially when it had not when she had just as much spoken with Twilight.
The sun gave off pleasurable pulses of heat, warming and enveloping Rainbow Dash in energy. Her casual stride turned to hurried darting within mere seconds. Dodging left and right in her pseudo obstacle course, zooming up and down through the non-impending sea of hazards, she gained supplementary speed by the millisecond. The climate remained obedient and cooperative, aiding for a nothing short of a flawless flight.
It was the new perspective. Assurance was indeed all one needed to truly be sure of what was right and what was wrong. Seeing someone else had been the only solution in her mind, and it was for a reason. Having very little assurance may throw you off, but with more, one would be leaning in the right direction in no time at all, she learned. After all, Applejack had said almost exactly what Twilight had said, and it had a far greater effect the second time.
But even so, she lacked additional help. She lacked additional assurance, additional encouragement. The thoughts of fear still lingered in her mind, rearing their unsightly faces, peering in and out at any given moment. Rainbow Dash wished for another visit to her very best friends, but time was fleeting. Rather, she must train well for the upcoming test. In spite of everything, her dream would be at stake.
In the momentary interval of 50 minutes, she trained with difficulty originating from her thriving thoughts, of which picked and disturbed at her conscious. The test drew near, and it was more than evident in the pegasus’s rushing, and in her panicked expressions. Slowly her conscious itself began to decay in its own suffering. Desperately keeping her own worry out of mind, she played on a phony act of hope and excitement.
Until the time had arrived.
Transitioning from mach-speed, changing to a gentle drifting, she set destination for Cloudsdale. Disembarking would be a nearly effortless task if not for the conflicting collection of emotions, but nonetheless, her fate was to be already decided, her task aimed on making the trip. And time seemed to bend, going slower in her mind, but faster in the world. Cloudsdale was to come instantaneously.
The city of clouds now approached, and in it waited Wonderbolt Academy, in which a test of skill and agility would be taking place at that very moment. Cloudsdale itself hold a euphoric glow of thrill and joy, the sky remaining blue, the shining sun boosting its every feature. Surrounding the settlement were now hastening winds of which came slowly but abruptly, defeating the pleasant calm airs of the town and places of all others. The town was almost in a tumult, for ponies were hectic with fervent enthusiasm, ecstatic for the upcoming event.
Rainbow Dash entered the flourishing town in wonder, stupefied in its frantic displays. She levitated, passing through the township as countless pegasi waved and hollered her name. In keeping with her false act of merriness, she waved back with a strained wide smile. She passed many homes and structures that rested upon the weightless clouds, until she hoped to near Wonderbolt Academy itself.
A broad, almost coliseum-like edifice stood tall among the rest, screening an indicator that read “WONDERBOLT ACADEMY”. The blue pony’s eyes magnetically gravitated towards the building, then set their sight directly upon its sign. Leading their host further into the destination, they browsed its content, composing of Wonderbolts-in-training, several other ponies, and a massive course of obstacles that spanned far beyond the area, spanning far from Cloudsdale.
Inside, she blended into a line of fellow colleagues — her fellow Wonderbolts-in-Training. Each wore a grave countenance, overflowing with fear, just as she. But even so, all exchanged gay greetings and cheerful regards with one another as they waited on a level beyond patience for their instructor, Spitfire. “Good luck,” they spoke to one another as a foreboding silence fell upon them. Lingering in dread, standing in the orderly row of ponies, a sigh of relief still managed to escape from Rainbow Dash, for her timing was correct; She wasn’t the least bit late.
Not the least bit early, either.
Spitfire now entered the room of which the pegasi of the row stood stiller than a statue. She wore on a navy-blue uniform, and a matching pair of deep-blue sunglasses. With her she carried a clipboard, pencil, and stopwatch. Gazing upon her class of students, her casual stride turned to a confident march as she now walked vertically, up and down in front of the arrangement before her. And with a sudden halt, she stared further into the face of the pony standing acutely at the front of the row.
Her eyes met with the first student, who immediately shot her back with a confident sneer. She proceeded to the next trainee, and fired a fierce glare. The second pegasus in-line did nothing but stare ahead with utmost surety in their ability. Being fifth in the row, Rainbow Dash began to get flustered in thought of the inevitable gape that was upcoming. However, Spitfire backed out and adjusted her position to be in front and in the center of them all, now looking at the row.
“I’ll skip the introduction. We‘ve been going over this for months, so you know how it works. Part one of the test begins now, starting with you,” she pointed a hoof towards the first pony she had eyed. “After that, you'll be next,” she shifted her hoof left slightly, and it now pointed to the second pony she had observed.
“Get it? You go on my mark.”
The room the group of fliers stayed in was simple, though fitting for the situation that would follow. The walls were appropriately painted in a diamond blue, and the floor was composed of almost sturdy-like white clouds. Its ceiling reached fairly high — enough to serve as an apt location as a training room. However, a single wall was completely nonexistent, that which was leading directly to the endless obstacle course outside.
“Go!”
One by one, her fellow classmates took the premier part of the test, them unable to hear their result until the remainders of the test be carried out another day approaching. Each would return, exhausted, beat, and rather later than Rainbow Dash would expect. Spitfire continued to call, until it was only she who was next. Behind her, a few more of her contemporaries attempted to spur her on, shouting words of hopeful praise and reassurance. Though, each comment passed her by like it was nothing, for she was too distant in her own thoughts of worry and apprehension.
“Rainbow Dash, you’re next!” hollered Spitfire in a hoarse voice.
Rainbow Dash obeyed, and with her head tilted downward, she made her way to the starting point. She now raised her head, and ahead was a course composed of somewhat dangerous hazards, but nothing was too severe. That thought alone was, to some extent, reassuring, but the large amount of spinning boards was almost hypnotizing.
“…” Spitfire drew a breath and pressed a small switch to start her stopwatch. Almost instantly after, she shouted:
“Go!”
Rainbow Dash took to the air, and cleared her mind. Her mind would be focused on flying and flying only. Not a thought about anxiety, fear, or worry.
In remembrance of Spitfire, that quote from so long ago still surfaced through to the top of her mind, despite her try at clarity. Though, wasting not a moment, her speed increased considerably as she sped her way through the generic sea of obstacles. Her head turned to the radiant sun that pushed her along, aiding her every move, then stared into the nonstop ocean of clouds of which lied straight ahead. The wind would push harder, resisting the velocity of the pegasus, and attacking with light whips at her face.
Continuing without hesitation, she soared onward until bursting into a rapid eruption of speed, navigating effortlessly through the ghastly hazards. The bright shining sun, now beginning to lower, to level with Rainbow Dash, fueled her swift pace as she proceeded to soar forth once again. Her demeanor wavered as she did the following, however. Her negative feelings surfaced, rising from the depths of her swamp of a mind. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.
As fast as she had took off to such a start, she steadily slowed in speed. The wind continued its barrage of slaps and strikes, thrashing at any flesh it can take a hold of. Her entire being began to tense, and she tried relentlessly to concentrate on what her friends had told her today. Still fighting to dodge the spinning laths, then right afterward steering through the foggy clouds that now enveloped her, she concentrated. She concentrated until the memory would be forced to surface.
Her flight slowed so much so that her wings went into a preserved flap. The sun hoped to counsel the pegasus with its blinding orange light — but her thoughts refused to be sorted at her request, and her flying shifted to a familiar panicked darting, that which was unstable in its form.
She grimaced, wincing in pain. The air in the fog of clouds that surrounded her was far beyond freezing, and as a result, she strained to retain her composure.
But, she had remembered.
It was her dream. She needed to do it, to face her fears. And if she tried, she could be the best.
She could be a Wonderbolt.
She went into a reckless rush of speed once more, gliding through the fog, and coming to meet the supplementary impending, forthcoming obstacles. She avoided them with ease, and kept her mind at pure focus at the task at hoof. The test couldn’t last much longer, likely another short quarter remaining, and a safe trip back to Wonderbolt Academy from then. She had practically done it.
But, her thoughts weren’t entirely set. If she was to mess up, it would render it all worthless.
The fear returned.
She scrambled in her place for a split second as her heart skipped a beat. And in that split second, she had leaned more to the right than she would have liked.
In an exceedingly sudden booming thud, Rainbow Dash had struck a wing forcefully into a hefty wooden plank, one that spun at a faster pace than many of the other laths and planks of wood beside it. She succumbed to an abrupt stop, then drifted downward into the world without land below.
She was speechless, could not utter a word to anybody in all of Equestria, let alone herself, as she altered into an excruciatingly agonizing pain. She wished to be unconscious, to fall asleep, and wake up safe in her hospital bed as she did the time before. To be safe from pain, and from the new feelings that were now invoked from her accident.
The real test had just become something much greater. An unavoidable test — a test that would indeed determine her destiny.
She flapped her remaining left wing with all her might, but to no avail. Plummeting down into nothingness, there was not a single possibility left in her safety. Her fate was clear as day, and that fate stared her in the face with its gaping, empty facade, flashing in every direction.
More and more the view of Cloudsdale and Wonderbolt Academy withered, shrinking from her line of sight. She could do nothing but close her eyes, then.
Flying. There was danger, peril that came with. There were feelings that came with. There was the apprehension, the crippling fear, and the worry that you can die at any moment. All her life she thought not of these, but situations shine new light. Light that illuminated what was right, and what was wrong.
She wasn't prepared to end that life of hers today.
With tremendous strength she flapped the functioning wing until finally decelerating in her fall. Terrain neared, and a semi-safe landing was no longer an impossibility. Only perpetuating in her immense flapping of the wing would lead to safety.
Her thoughts were locked, unable to be read, even by Rainbow Dash herself. She couldn’t contemplate a single thought, and her body worked on nothing but instinct.
The breathtaking world of orange offered a clear concrete field of landing, that which was bordered by several houses. Accepting its offer, she found herself squinting as she felt that she reached solid ground. Her strength gave out, and the flapping of her wing came to an immediate halt. Her vision deteriorated, growing blurry. The next moment, she had dropped, her entire mass resting on the chilling concrete.
Her wish had come true. She was unconscious.
…
Rainbow Dash awoke to find herself situated under a slim layer of sky blue sheets, and on a stiff mattress. Wrapped around her wing was a bandage, and she wore a uniform similar in color to that of the bed sheets. In this room, she was alone, and the hour looked late. At this point, she was wide awake, skipping the state of grogginess that came with sleep.
What the future held was shrouded in what happened now; what happened in the present. The past repeated itself, and just like before, her own carelessness led to a future of complications. Weeks of Wonderbolt Training she would need to make up, and the test would still be demanded to be reiterated.
But life was not certain. Her dear friends would likely soon arrive to see her, and she would be so delighted to see their faces once more. Spitfire would understand her accident, and she could keep pushing to achieve her dream.
In only that split second she received her injury. Less than a second of fear led to a recurred past that had transitioned into the future, and it was undeniably her own fault. She had been driven to the hospital by her own fear, her own worry of what was to come. Her own terror, her own mistake.
Her own struggle of apprehension.
