"Holding up all right back there, sport?" the dark blue pegasus stallion called over his shoulder, his voice barely audible above the high-speed winds.
"Yeah, Dad!" his son shouted back. "I'm fine!"
"It is your first flying lesson," the aqua-colored mare added. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes, Mom!" came the response from the young colt.
The family of flying ponies was currently zooming through the skies above Equestria. Avia, Caelus, and their 6-year-old son Soarin' were on a group flight for the first time. Soarin's parents, both members of the Wonderbolts, had taken the day off from practice to allow their son to begin his flight training. He was extremely grateful for the opportunity to use his wings for real (he didn't consider all those exercises at school to be true flying).
Soarin' looked down at the ground far below, beyond the clouds. He knew about the earth and unicorn ponies who lived on the ground, having learned about them in history, but he'd never left Cloudsdale and didn't know much about them. From the stories some of the other fillies told about the land below, it sounded like a wonderfully fantastic place. He sometimes wished he could be like Fleetfoot, whose father took her on trips to the surface all the time. But then he'd remind himself that nopony he knew had two awesome parents who were both Wonderbolts.
Throughout the trip, Avia served as the mentor to her son, monitoring his progress as he adjusted his speed and altitude. He wanted to protest, saying that he knew all that from school already, but her patience with him made him want to keep his mouth closed.
"When you're older, you'll learn how to clear the clouds around you with your pegasus magic," she told him. "But right now let's focus on banking."
She took him step-by step through the process of learning to fly--fully utilizing his wing power, gliding on air currents, maintaining stability. He listened attentively and followed her instructions to the letter. After another half hour of learning the ropes, she decided to let him off the hook and practice on his own.
"YIPPEE!" he shouted as he zoomed across the sky, looping, swerving, diving, then coming back up to do it all again. He'd never felt so free in his life--it was just him and the atmosphere, and not even gravity could hold him back.
Caelus chuckled as he watched Soarin' glide around. "All right, it's starting to get dark. I think it's about time we head back to..."
He didn't get to finish the sentence, for his ears had suddenly perked up. That only happened when his natural flight instincts alerted him to a change in wind velocity, air pressure, or some other technical term that was too complicated for Soarin' to understand no matter how many times it was explained to him. Most of the time these changes were minor and insignificant, but this one felt more potent than normal. He turned to his wife, who was feeling the same thing.
They turned back to their blissfully unaware son, who was still swerving around and having the time of his life. When he noticed his parent's concerned looks, he slowed down to a stop in front of them and said, "What? Did I do something wrong?"
There was a brief silence, which Caelus broke. "No, son, you were fine. It's just...we have to go home. Now."
"But why? came the response. "It feels like we've just started!"
"I know, but..." He faltered, not quite sure how to explain the situation. "It doesn't matter. Flight time's over."
Soarin' began to protest rather loudly, but he stopped short when he noticed the sky grow dark. "Wh-what's going on?" he stammered.
His parents did not respond. They were too busy watching the horizon. Something was coming, something not very far away, something large and dark and ominous...
They were whispering something to each other. He flew a little closer to try and make it out. It was a bit hard to hear over the winds, but he caught brief glimpses of their conversation.
"...might be them..." Avia said. "...are they coming after..."
"No, they haven't been around..." came her husband's response. "...quite some time...never come out in the open like this..."
The next part was too quiet for him to listen in on. And then...
His mother shrieked as something appeared in the distance.
And suddenly, before he could ask what it meant, Soarin' was knocked backwards by a large force. Avia had just tackled him, sending him flailing in the opposite direction. He tumbled head over hooves before he finally managed to regain his balance. But when he righted himself and looked back to see what had happened, he was met with a horrific sight.
A black tornado had materialized right near where he had been only a moment before. The dark cyclone stretched from the ground far below to high up above. It twisted rapidly, drawing in everything it came close to into its billowing core. There was no possible way to fly over or under the imposing whirlwind. They would have to make a run for it.
Soarin' heard his name being called. He turned to see his father extending a hoof out to him. "Grab on!" he cried desperately, attempting to rescue his son from the eminent tornado.
Terrified, he tried to do as he was told. He extended his arm, reaching out to the loving embrace of his father. He inched closer, closer, closer still...
And then a huge storm cloud knocked Caelus aside, far out of Soarin's reach. The colt shrieked as he watched his father tumble into the dark funnel cloud, embraced by the high-speed winds.
"DAD!" he screamed as the pegasus struggled to escape the funnel of death. His efforts were all in vain, however: there was no way for a pony to escape something of such force.
His mother had seen the tragedy too. She yelled in anger and proceeded to fly near the advancing storm cloud.
The young foal called out to his mother. "Mom! Please don't go!"
She turned around, just in time to get one last look at her son. She shouted something he could't hear. Then she turned around and disappeared right into to center of the cyclone, determined to try and rescue her trapped husband.
And just like that, he was alone.
Soarin' stared into the dark, swirling mass that now contained both of his parents--parents he would never see again. He was so traumatized at how sudden the event had occurred that he couldn't move. He just sat there, suspended in space, his wings flapping in a subconscious effort to keep him afloat in the air. He had no idea what to do.
Then he noticed the funnel cloud moving towards him, which snapped him out of his shock and reminded him that he had to move.
He turned around and flew, flew faster than he ever had in his life and hoped he wouldn't ever have to fly again, trying to escape the dark cloud that had taken away the only two ponies he'd ever truly loved, the ones he'd loved more than life itself and couldn't even imagine going on without.
The tornado was almost upon him. He screamed.
-----
Still screaming, Soarin' bolted upright in his bed. He was panting heavily, beads of sweat dripping off his forehead and onto his lightning bolt-patterned bedspread. It wasn't real, he told himself. It was another dream.
But it was real--at least, it had been at one time. He was remembering the day his parents died, so many years ago. He'd been having the same flashback every night for the past month. The nightmares were long past the point of merely bothering him and had gotten so bad that he was afraid to go to bed every night. He'd tried all of his grandmother's tricks--sleeping facing the other direction, turning his pillow over to the cold side, drinking warm milk right before bed--but nothing had helped to get rid of the terrible scene that plagued his sleep.
He flopped down on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling decorated with plastic adhesive stars. There'd be no point in trying to go back to sleep now, considering it would only return him to the dreadful nightmare. Instead he simply stared up at his ceiling, focusing on his present tasks to shake away the horrid memories that still lingered in his subconscious.
He started off with the date. Thinking back to the day before, he remembered that today was a Tuesday. He racked his half-asleep brain trying to remember what day it was. It took him a while to find, but soon he remembered that today was October 25. Hmm. Why did that date sound so familiar? There had to be a reason...
Suddenly recognition hit him like a snowball hurled directly at his face on a cold winter day. Today was his birthday! His face lit up as he realized what this meant. Now that he was thirteen years old, he could finally take his flight test and get certified as a Junior Flyer. He'd still be in flight school for the rest of the school year, but come June he could advance to an intermediate flight academy. Then it would only be a few short years before he could move on to pursue other goals if he wanted to, or he could continue to study at the advanced upper-level flight school. After that it was just a hop, skip, and jump to become a member of Cloudsdale's elite group of fliers: the Wonderbolts!
Soarin' couldn't help but grin. He knew exactly how he wanted his future to play out, and it was only a matter of putting it into action. It felt good to know with utmost certainty what he wanted to do. Unlike Spitfire, he had a clear goal in mind and didn't have to spend a lot of time dwelling on important life choices like what sort of job he wanted or what schools he wanted to go to.
Ahh, Spitfire. He smiled wider at the thought of his best friend, whom he'd known since he was just a newborn. She was the only one who really understood him, who could read him like a book and feel empathetic with him. He didn't really feel the same way about her, though; when he tried to see what she was feeling, he kept getting distracted by her crimson mane. It was so brightly colored, so perfectly shaped, so...
Soarin' had to physically shake his head to get himself to stop thinking about Spitfire's mane. He could feel his cheeks start to blush, even though he knew no one had been reading his thoughts. He'd have to avoid doing that when he talked to her in person.
He looked at the alarm clock, which read 4:13 AM. He wasn't tired, and he certainly didn't want to risk having another nightmare, but school was still three hours away. He couldn't think of anything better to do, so he closed his eyes and just rested in bed. He didn't remember falling asleep again, but he must have, because when he opened his eyes again the clock said 6:12 AM. Just then, he heard a voice calling from downstairs.
"Wakey-wakey, sonny boy!" Soarin's grandfather yelled. "Don't wanna miss school, now do yeh?"
Soarin' groaned loudly. His grandpa was always saying stupid things like that. No, he didn't want to miss school, so why would he say so otherwise? Spitfire had noticed his animosity towards his father's father, who was now his caretaker full-time, and had let him know in no uncertain terms that he should be more appreciative. Still, while he may have enjoyed his grandpa's tasty breakfasts, Soarin' couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed whenever he was nearby.
He trotted downstairs. As per usual, he sat down to a meal of scrambled eggs and toast while his grandfather told him a story about when he was just a colt. Soarin' typically found these stories to be mildly entertaining, but today's story was about growing carrots on his family's farm. Boring! he thought as he tried his best to tune out the tale.
Thankfully, Soarin' managed to sit through breakfast without being bored to death. He picked up his saddlebag filled with school supplies and waved goodbye to his grandpa.
"Have a good day at school, buckaroo!" his grandfather shouted, using one of his typical phrases that Soarin' disproved of.
Rolling his eyes, he trotted down the path constructed out of clouds to start his day. A day that, unbeknownst to him, may be considered one of the most important of his life.