//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Soarin' Skies // by arcTangent //------------------------------// On his way to school, Soarin' passed by Spitfire's house. He stopped and waited for her to come outside and walk with him like they always did. It took her a little longer than usual to prepare, which made him start to worry, but he calmed down when she stepped outside. He instantly remembered thinking about her mane last night, and it made him feel ten times as awkward. "Sup," she greeted him in the usual manner as she stepped into the street. She had a slight spring in her step, making her saddlebags shake up and down as she walked. They looked to be in danger of spilling over, but she was lithe enough to balance them with little effort. They walked in silence for a few moments, the crisp autumn breeze blowing their manes back. Then, looking Soarin' over, Spitfire said, "You look terrible," referring to the bags under his eyes and his disheveled hair. "Have you been awake all night?" Soarin' muttered, "Haven't got much sleep lately. Long story." "That's no way to start off your birthday!" she said cheerfully, in an attempt to perk up her friend's spirits. "You're a teenager now! You should be happy!" The sleepy colt shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I should be happy. I'm just a bit out of it right now." "Well, wake up, then!" she reprimanded him as she rapped on his skull with her hoof. "Ow!" Soarin' yelped, regaining his senses and rubbing the dull ache on his cranium. Spitfire smiled playfully at him. "Did it work?" "The only work you did was being a bigger pain than usual." "Oh, hang on. I think I hear the phone ringing." She put a hoof up to her ear to pantomime a telephone and pretended to talk into it. She lowered her hoof and said to Soarin', "It's the National Can't-Take-A-Joke Society; they want to give you a lifetime achievement award for being the grumpiest pegasus this side of Canterlot." He smiled, playing along. "Then maybe you should tell them that you're the better candidate. After all, it'll be the only award you ever get for anything. Besides the Overachiever's Award from the Annoying Association of Equestria." "Way to steal my joke, egghead!" "I didn't steal it, I improved it. Just like I have to improve everything that comes out of your highly intellectual mouth." "Flattery will get you nowhere." "Sarcasm ain't gonna do a fat lot of good, either." She laughed. "All right, I've had enough. Let's just get to class before we run into--" She was interrupted by the very ponies she was about to mention. "Well, well, well," came a voice from behind them. They turned around to see three male ponies with sports-related Cutie Marks jeering at them. The leader of the group called out, "If it isn't Mr. Bad-at-Flying and his girlfriend...um...let's see...ah-hah! Stupidfire!" He and his buddies laughed at the cleverness of their friend as if he'd just given the punch line to the world's funniest knock-knock joke. Soarin' rolled his eyes at the three jocks. Hoops, Quarterback, and Dumbbell were the local bullies of Cloudsdale. They intimidated anyone and everyone who happened to get in their way, though their main target was the meek and susceptible Fluttershy. Nobody really took them seriously, but they were still annoying nontheless. "Seriously," he responded with an irritable tone, "if you're gonna pick on somepony, at least be more creative. 'Mr. Bad-at-Flying?' That the best you can do?" Quarterback and Dumbbell shouted began shouting indiscernible phrases that were intended as a challenge for their leader to show Soarin' who was boss, but just make them look stupider--if that were possible. Hoops decided to express his dissatisfaction by taking a step towards Spitfire and Soarin'. "You wanna say that to my face?" he snarled angrily. Soarin' took a step to confront him, but Spitfire held him back. "Let it go," she coaxed him. "It's not their fault that they're too dense to come up with any better insults." She was right. It was better to keep his dignity and walk away than cause a problem that could have been easily avoided. They turned around, ignoring the jocks' insults, and went on their way to school. ---- Soarin's thirteenth birthday started off as just an average day for him. With the exception of constant appraisals from his classmates commending him on reaching the thirteenth year of his life, the day was perfectly ordinary in every way. Each day was basically the same for him: going to class, sleeping in class, daydreaming in class, doodling in class, passing notes in class, getting scolded for not paying attention in class--the usual stuff. But today, on the most special of days in a pegasus's life, he wasn't daydreaming about the normal topics of being a Wonderbolt or eating pie, his favorite food. This time the daydream seemed to be out of his control, which was strange for him. The dream itself was very bizarre. Soarin' could feel himself floating along aimlessly in a dark void, as if he were flying but without flapping his wings. In fact, he didn't really have to do much moving around at all. He just floated lazily on by, staring out into the blank space and wondering why the daydream felt so real--or if it really was a dream after all. "This doesn't make sense," he said to himself. "If this isn't a dream, how did I get here from being in math class?" Then the strangest thing of all happened. A voice called out to him from the void, speaking a language that he didn't recognize yet could somehow understand. He wasn't hearing the voice with his ears, either--he was hearing it with his mind. Simply because something does not make sense to you does not mean it makes sense to no one. Soarin' turned to look at the anonymous voice, but he saw nothing but darkness. Very confused and beginning to get scared, he called out, "What...how did...who are you?" You will know the answers soon enough. I have brought you here to warn you of the impending danger ahead of you. "Brought me where? What danger? What am I doing here?" Patience, young foal. You are destined to become a hero someday, but you must wait until you are ready to accept it. "I am? But how can I be a hero? I'm just a colt." As I said, the answers will be revealed in due time. You must remember this: patience is its own reward. "I still don't understand! Why are you telling me all this?" The voice paused, as if communicating silently with someone--or something--else. Then it answered with great urgency. There is no time. Seek not the answers, but the questions instead. Soarin' was about to ask more questions, but he didn't get the chance. He was distracted by the blinding light that had just hit his eyes. He caught a glimpse of a large silver figure, glowing brightly in the darkness. He couldn't quite tell what it was, but he guessed it was what was talking to him. May we meet again, brave one. The figure spread two giant silver wings as the light grew brighter. It wrapped them around itself and then everything was gone. Suddenly Soarin' was back in his desk. He was vaguely aware that the teacher had asked him a question. He tried not to make it obvious that he didn't know the answer, but he had always been a terrible actor. "Perhaps you would know the answer if you paid attention, Mr. Soarin'," the teacher said sternly as the rest of the class giggled. Soarin' sheepishly avoided the glances he was getting from the other students as he thought about exactly what had just happened. A great hero, he echoed, staring at his doodle-filled notebook that was laying in front of him. Could that mean...? He stared intently at the latest doodle he'd drawn, one of him standing on a victory platform in a Wonderbolts uniform, wearing a first-place medal and linking arms with an identically-dressed Spitfire, their faces beaming with pride and honor. This was where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do. He was certain of that. ---- After his last class of the day, Meteorology, he met up with Spitfire outside the front doors of the school. "So how was your big day?" she asked cheerfully as they trotted out the doors of the school along with all the other pegasi foals. Soarin' shrugged as he adjusted the saddlebags carrying his schoolbooks. "Meh. It was mostly the same as any other day, really." His friend grinned. "Well, I think I know something that can make your day just a little bit better than usual." "Really? What is it?" Soarin' asked, his interests piqued. "I'm not telling you," she replied adamantly. "But I can show you. Meet me at the entrance to the park at 4 PM sharp." He glanced over his shoulder at the big clock hanging up over the school. "But it's already 3:30." "Then you better get going," she said with a grin just before taking off down the road, leaving a confused Soarin' to watch her as she headed home. Then he realized his house was in that direction too. Well, if she wants me to hurry, I'll play her game, he thought as he galloped home to get his skateboard. That'll show her who was in charge! Soarin's grandpa greeted the tired pegasus colt as soon as he walked in the door. "Why hello there, young whippersnapper!" he cried jubilantly as his grandson deposited his satchel. "What'cha been up to lately?" Soarin' returned the greeting with a grin. "I'm going out to the park with Spitfire, and I just came back to get somethi--" "What's that, you say?" his grandfather shouted, a bit hard of hearing. "You have a date with that young marefriend of yours, do ya?" Soarin' blushed. "She's NOT my marefriend! She's just...a friend." His grandpa chuckled. "If you say so. Why, I remember when I met your grandmother--it was at a school dance, you see, and she was wearing the nicest saddle I'd ever laid eyes on..." Soarin' hurried to leave before he could get dragged into another conversation about his grandpa's boring past. As he galloped upstairs to his bedroom, he thought about what his grandfather had just said. It made him think more about his relationship with Spitfire. The two of them had first met when they were still just infants. Their parents, who were all Wonderbolts, had been close friends. They lived on the same block, so they brought their kids over whenever they needed somepony to babysit. Soarin' and Spitfire found out that they had much in common, and they soon became fast friends. Then, when his parents had that accident, Soarin' was so distraught that he refused to come out of his room. He suffered from a week-long depression, and it took Spitfire to coax him out of it. She was the only pony he could trust, the only one he felt secure around, the only one who made him feel...happy. Soarin' looked around. He'd been so lost in thought that he'd forgotten what he was doing. It took him about ten seconds to remember that he'd come for his skateboard. Quickly he grabbed it, sprinted down the stairs, and rushed out the door in the direction of the park.