//------------------------------// // Final Lap // Story: Mother of Wisdom // by Acologic //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash hadn’t felt so good in a long time. She was buzzing. She couldn’t stop smiling. Suddenly, the world seemed richer, brighter, with much more in it. She had a skip to her stride. Whenever a pony passed her, she nodded and grinned. It was a wonderful feeling, similar to how she’d lived in the days of old. When you won, it was bliss. Nothing could go wrong. Everypony liked you. The pieces were where they should’ve been. She hadn’t won in years, but this was a good second. It could well have been as close to that magical state as she would ever be again. When she’d first laid eyes on Raffia, she hadn’t thought there’d be any mending of ways without a serious wake-up call. Now he wanted to train with her. He wanted to learn from her. It was as though he’d known everything she wanted to hear from him. Precocious ponies weren’t renowned for deciding to listen; they were infamous for throwing tantrums and moaning about how unfair their lives were. Yet Raffia’s tantrum had been short and had consisted of little more than scowling. He was ready, and she had such a good feeling about him. He radiated the potential for greatness. She could sense the heat and wanted to move closer. She smirked. That was talent for you. It was like the sun, and it pulled ponies into orbit. Raffia was lucky it had pulled her in first and not a vampire or a snake-oil salesmare. Capable young heads could be so swollen that they’d believe any old nonsense if you reaffirmed how good they thought they were. She laughed because she had reaffirmed how good he was – but she had also described his weaknesses, given him pointers. Once upon a time she’d have crowed about how honoured he was to have her in his corner. Instead, she simply felt happy – both for him and for herself. She had a purpose in racing again. All the effort she’d put in with Eggshell, all the toil, it was wasted on her. But if they could give it to Raffia and he listened, she’d have done something for everypony – and her return to the game, finally, would lead to something worthwhile. Eggshell seemed less enthusiastic, thin-mouthed, watching her as their bus trundled toward the training park. Rainbow Dash could see he was bothered by it. Of course he was. A coach needed his pony to stay focused, to stay on track. He needed his pony to play by his rules, follow his plan. If your racer knew better, what was the point of you? But, at the end of the day, Eggshell didn’t play games like that. He could tell this was important to her. Although he clearly didn’t like the idea of jumping ship suddenly to Raffia just because she’d suggested it, he was also here as a friend. She was certain he saw the energy and hope it had given her. ‘We just show him the basics, Egg,’ she told him. ‘And then we go back.’ ‘I think you’re getting distracted,’ said Eggshell.  ‘Distracted? Well, yeah, but it’s for a good cause, isn’t it? This lad could be great, but he needs help.’ ‘He could be great; he does need help,’ said Eggshell. ‘Why does it have to be your help?’ ‘Well, it doesn’t have to be. I just think it’s good. It’s good for me to show him the right way. I think he knows he can learn something, and I hope I’ve shown him I’m in no way going to mess him about. I’m genuinely here to help.’ Eggshell watched her. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know about this. I think you’re getting distracted. You’re putting time into this now, which means you’re taking your head away from what you have to do to get better.’ He was right; she couldn’t deny it. But what did she have to do? Fly laps until she sighed and shook her head in disgust at how bad she was? Remember the pony, the animal, the winning machine she’d been and find herself to be a wreck, a shadow, a pretender in the same skin? There was more to life than this. She couldn’t waste any more time.  ‘Just –’ She sighed. ‘Chuck it,’ she said. Eggshell frowned. ‘What?’ ‘Bin it. Chuck it. It’s going nowhere. And it’s not a comeback. It never was, really. I wanted to play tournaments again because I miss the feeling of flying well, but I don’t think it’ll ever come back. Maybe you were right in the first place. Maybe it is time I move on.’ ‘All this because you spoke to Raffia?’ ‘Not just because of that,’ she said, ‘but that’s been the flashpoint. You know what’s in my head, Egg; none of this is new.’ ‘No,’ said Eggshell. He sounded disappointed, but it didn’t last for long. He smiled. ‘If you’re happy,’ he began, ‘and you’re sure this is what you want to do –’ ‘I’m sure.’ He nodded. ‘Then I’ll help you do it if you’ll have me.’ Rainbow Dash beamed at him. He was a good pony, a good friend. ‘Thanks, Egg. I appreciate it.’ The training grounds in Canterlot brought back memories. She had raced Soarin here, his favourite place to practise. It was a nice day, clear skies, sun shining down, slight breeze – warm and uplifting. She flexed her wings, still sore from the race. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking. Her body couldn’t take it anymore; that was obvious. It was funny: now that she’d opened herself to the idea of moving on to something else, the reasons to do so found themselves.  ‘Let’s get a lap in,’ she said, taking off. Her back was stiff. Her hooves were sore too, but that was simply from walking. It was an awful shame that they all had to wither. You had to spend your youth in action, or you’d be kicking yourself later on. She was kicking herself anyway. The force of the turn rippled her muscles like a cramp. She winced, slowed and landed. She thought she’d better save it for when Raffia arrived.  But Raffia did not arrive. They waited for ten minutes, twenty minutes, half-an-hour. There was no sign of him. She paced on the grass as Eggshell sat in the sun and watched.  ‘What’s taking him so long?’ she said eventually, frowning up at the empty sky.  ‘Maybe he changed his mind,’ said Eggshell. She felt a lump curl into her stomach. No, that couldn’t be it. He’d grown interested, eager. But he was young, and there was nothing young ponies were better at than changing their minds. For a nasty moment, she felt like a failure again. Then it passed. She couldn’t jump the starting horn. ‘Maybe he’s late,’ she said.  ‘He’d be very late.’ ‘Shall we have a look around?’ ‘Where?’ ‘Check the changing rooms?’ ‘If you want.’ ‘I’ll go.’ Rainbow Dash wandered off past the toilets toward the parkie’s hut, inside which was a small pair of changing rooms. The doors weren’t locked. She pushed them open. She remembered this place. She’d gone there once, cursing herself for losing, kicking the walls. The first room was dusty and empty. She paused at the second, greeted by the unmistakable sound of a pony crying. ‘Raffia?’ It was him alright. He’d curled up on one of the benches, sniffling into his hooves. Her first response was relief. He hadn’t forgotten or changed his mind. Her second was confusion. What was the matter? Her last was understanding. Strewn on the floor, crumpled and tear-stained, was a morning newspaper – and the image of Raffia scowling on the back page drew her hoof to it immediately. She flattened it out and read the headline: REVOKED – YOUNGSTER MISSES MASTERS FOR MISCONDUCT Underneath was a smaller image of a pony she recognised: none other than Spitfire, Chairmare of Equestrian Racing. ‘The wildcard’s a privilege,’ she was quoted as having said. ‘If you bring the sport into disrepute, you lose that privilege.’ Rainbow Dash didn’t have to read on. She set the paper aside. Raffia’s sobs became her sobs from long ago. She’d been there. She’d sat on a bench and cried at the unfairness of it all. Not that it was unfair. But did racers ever think they’d been treated right? Such was the world of peak performance – brutal, fickle, painful. She patted Raffia on the shoulder. ‘Hey. It’s OK.’ Or maybe it wasn’t. What had he done? ‘What did you do?’ she asked. After a minute or so he managed to find a break in the tears to tell her. ‘Ignored a groundskeeper,’ he croaked. ‘Trespassed.’ Ah. Well, that wasn’t so bad. It was a sad situation because, for something relatively small, he’d lost a great opportunity. But at least he hadn’t been caught gambling or done for match fixing. They were the media’s favourites, for which they never let a pony off the hook. Rightly so, it was easy to say, but Rainbow Dash had sympathy for her own even when they were in the wrong. Racing was hard enough, and she knew how easily it could drive a pony to unsavoury coping mechanisms. ‘I know it feels terrible,’ she began, ‘but it’ll pass. And this isn’t the end. Just because you miss one doesn’t mean it’s over. You’ll be fine. Chin up and focus on getting ready for the next one.’  Raffia looked at her through swollen eyes as though she was the biggest idiot in the universe. ‘“The next one”?’ he hissed, snot dribbling down his snout. She understood. Youth – all or nothing, always. Either it was the greatest time in their lives, or it was the end of the world. She knew. She’d done it all before. She patted him firmly. ‘There will be a next one. I know it’s tough. The Masters, the best tournament you’d have flown in. But the thing is you’ll get there again. Well, you will if you focus. Nothing changes. You get up, you get onto the course and you do your best. Do that, and you may even have a chance of getting an invitation proper next year.’ ‘Next – year –’ gurgled Raffia. Now or never. Woe is me. It was good that Rainbow Dash knew how it was. She didn’t feel any pressure. This pony had a future in front of him. He wasn’t desperate or dying, just disappointed.  ‘Chin up,’ she said again. ‘Look at me.’ Raffia’s eyes crept up to hers. They burned with sadness, pain and shame. In them she recalled herself. ‘You’ll be fine. Wipe your nose, and we’ll go and do some flying.’  He shook his head. ‘I don’t want to fly anymore,’ he breathed. Rainbow Dash snorted. He glared at her, murderous. She sighed. He needed to hear the truth again. It was a firm method, a hard method, but she’d long since learned that it was the right method. ‘You aren’t feeling anything that a racer hasn’t felt before. I’ve been there; I’ve done it. I’ve moaned and cried. I’ve cursed and shouted. I’ve felt like giving up a hundred times.’ Raffia was shaking his head, stubborn, self-righteous. ‘You haven’t had your Master’s invitation taken away from you!’ he choked. ‘No, but I’ve watched my career get taken away from me,’ said Rainbow Dash. That quietened him down. ‘I’ve watched it slip away. Picture this, alright? You’re the best, the world number one. That should be easy enough for you. So, you’re on top of the world, and everypony wants to know you. What happens then? Where do you go from there? Sadly, there’s only one direction to go in from the top, and that’s down. You never want to believe that when you’re up there – and I don’t think you should believe it, because you need all the help you can get.’ She paused. ‘But one day you stumble. One day somepony else beats you to it. You fall, but it isn’t the end, and you pick yourself up. And all of a sudden your wings don’t work. And all of a sudden you’re struggling. And then you’re fighting yourself; you’re fighting against the tide, and you can’t stop it.’ She paused, wondering what to say next. ‘The final I raced against Lightning Dust – I should have won. She was coming through the ranks, and we all knew how good she was, or how good she was threatening to be. And there’s a time when, if there’s going to be a change of guard, if there’s going to be a raising of the bar –’ She worked her mouth. ‘I think Lightning Dust did that; she raised the bar. Somewhere down the line there’s that crucial race, and that was the one. That was the moment she took over my mantle, and I then became a worse racer because of it, and she became a stronger racer. But it wasn’t just her. I remember I went into the studio with Lightning Dust, and the interviewer asked me a few questions. And then, as a statement – rather than asking me the question – he said, “Well, the end of an era,” and turned to Lightning Dust. And I thought, “What a cheek! How dare you! How can you say that?”’ She stopped. ‘As it turned out, it was. Because I never won the World Championship again. Didn’t even get in the final again.’  She swallowed at the ghosts of old, powerful emotions. But they didn’t grip her as they had. Speaking about it, getting it out, all the time with Eggshell and with herself – it had blunted them. They still hurt, but they didn’t cut into her anymore. Raffia’s nose was still wet; his lips were still trembling. But his eyes had softened. His anger had passed. He was ready to accept, ready to move on. Rainbow Dash smiled. He was just a colt. She guided him to his hooves and gave him a little hug. To her surprise, he returned it, sniffling. She patted him on the back. ‘Come on,’ she said eventually. ‘Let’s sort those corners, eh? And don’t worry about the press,’ she added, struck suddenly by an idea. ‘There’s a way around them.’ Eggshell watched Rainbow Dash chatting animatedly to Buttons, whose production had improved since her previous visit. The three of them sat on comfy red chairs in a spacious, tastefully decorated room. Buttons looked the part, his mane immaculate, his manner cool and professional. It counterpointed perfectly Rainbow Dash’s enthusiasm and Raffia’s youth.  ‘And what would you say to the ponies who have doubted you?’ Buttons asked Rainbow Dash, who waved a hoof. ‘I don’t know. Maybe they were right to doubt me. To be quite honest, I don’t really care, because it was never about proving anything to them. I wanted to enjoy flying again – and I did, don’t get me wrong. There’ll always be a place in my life for flying. But you have to take things as they come, and when I saw Raffia, I knew there was a great opportunity for the both of us,’ she finished.  ‘Raffia, you’ve been quiet,’ said Buttons, smiling. Raffia smiled back at him. Eggshell smiled too. The change in that colt had been dramatic and most welcome, and it had startled him. But Rainbow Dash was an exceptional pony, and whatever they did, they always took you by surprise. ‘What do you think about this opportunity at this stage of your career?’ ‘It’s great,’ said Raffia simply. ‘I’m very happy.’ He looked to Rainbow Dash, and she grinned at him. ‘I look forward to learning my craft, and I know that, in time, I’ll be able to show everypony a better side of me.’ ‘Well said,’ said Buttons. ‘Rainbow Dash, Raffia – thanks for coming, and before we finish, let me ask you both the one question we always ask: Where do you see yourselves in ten years’ time?’  ‘In a care home,’ joked Rainbow Dash. Buttons and some of the crew laughed. ‘No, look – I don’t know. I hope that, whatever I’m doing, I’m doing it whole-heartedly. If I can do that, then I’ll be happy. But please do check with me in ten years!’ Grinning, Buttons turned to Raffia. ‘Raffia?’ Raffia paused. He looked Buttons in the eye. ‘I think I’ll have suffered more,’ he said. ‘But I’ll be stronger for it. I hope I’ll still be racing. But if I’m not –’ He shrugged.  ‘Fillies and gentlecolts, thank you.’ Eggshell turned off the screen. He sat and pondered. He smiled – a strong, wholesome smile. He’d done his bit. Rainbow Dash didn’t need him anymore, and that was the best-case scenario for which he’d hoped. She was happy. She was excited. She was using her talents for good. Even if he never saw her again, the world was right. And, if she ever needed him to chip in, all she had to do was call. After all, he owed her a coffee. The train rattled along the tracks to Los Pegasus, and Raffia was on it, in a small, dingy cubicle, looking into the broken mirror at his reflection. The last few days had changed him. Even in the half-light, it was apparent on his face. His eyes were wider and more relaxed. His mouth was softer. Even his posture had changed. When you carried tension, it carried you – your thoughts, your movements, everything. This was the calmest he’d felt in ages, since he’d decided he loved racing. He wasn’t worried about a course or a corner or a dip or a rise. Missing out on the Masters still hurt, undoubtedly, but it wasn’t the end of the world. And, in a way, it was good pain, a just pain. After all the emotions – the hope and disappointment of the last week – it had become manageable because he knew, really, that he deserved it. It hurt, but he was over it enough to move on to the next stage of his career.  He had Rainbow Dash to thank for that. She’d given him time, knowledge and boundless enthusiasm. Now he was living a dream unlike any he’d anticipated. He’d always thought he would do everything alone, but after the two sessions they’d had together, he realised it was much easier working on yourself when you had a dedicated pony to help you – and more than just an expert, a friend. Anything he was worried about he could tell her, and she would be tactful, understanding and have a good answer, one born of hard experience. That extended beyond racing to life itself. That was why he was on his way to see his parents for the first time in a year, a year that felt like a lifetime. He had grown so much.  The truth was there were ponies out there who had suffered much more than he had, who had done much more than perhaps he ever would and who had lost more than he could imagine. He’d been so fixated on one thing, so determined to judge everypony by how fast they could fly, that he’d become unaware, oblivious, blind. After Buttons’ interview he felt smaller, more exposed, more vulnerable, but ready – ready to learn, ready to work, ready to improve. But also he felt excited because he still had everything that had made him believe he was brilliant. He was just as fast, just as strong in the air. This time he knew that, to be truly great, he had to do more, and he was going to do it as well as he could. If by the end of all his efforts he still wasn’t good enough, then it was fine. It would hurt, but he fancied he would be able to live with it. Because he would know he’d tried.  He blinked down at the raffia on his flank. Perhaps he knew at last what it meant. Success was healthy growth, a fulfilling life. It didn’t matter if that was as a racer, an interviewer or a janitor. Whatever he did, he had to do it with all his heart, to the best of his abilities. He grinned. And he would forever be grateful to the chubby ex-champion who’d helped him see it.