//------------------------------//
// The Tooth Fairy 
// Story: Limits 
// by Skurk 
//------------------------------//

	“Let’s meet again here tomorrow, then we can play some more!”  the cloud was told by the filly. She was about to leave it beneath the terrace of clouds when she had a better idea. Holding onto one of its swabs she flew up to the roof, where a brick chimney towered. There was only one floor in the inviting house. The little pegasus positioned the cloud on top of the chimney and began to hop on it. The cloud was pressed down towards the heart of the home in a resistant manner. It crawled along the bricks while the filly whispered coordinates to her room. Pleased with her ingenious plan she flew down to the door and walked inside.

The consistent rattling of a sewing machine stopped and a dusky blue unicorn appeared in the hallway. Her black hair and mane looked Saddle Arabian, and her hip bared a symbol of a fashionable top hat.

“Baby, what happened to you?” the unicorn exclaimed petrified.
“I’m not your baby, look!” The pegasus responded by showing off her flank. Burnt flesh crossed her side like the northern lights. A dark tone of blue edged her crispy cutie mark.

“My gem, my Lightning Dust…” The mare nestled her head in her daughter’s wet mane. “Does it hurt?” she murmured while closing her azure eyes. She smelled motherly and of old forests.

“No, it tickles,” she giggled. “I never imagined my special talent would tickle.” It was supposed to be a happy moment and she had expected her mother to be ecstatic. Instead she had to smile reassuringly to her. Maybe she was too flabbergasted.

“My jaw aches though,” she continued. Her tongue fumbled around inside of her mouth, feeling the silhouettes of her teeth, followed by a warm unfilled space. A tooth hadn’t just dropped out, she had actually lost it. If she still had it she could have put it back, but she didn’t have a clue to where it was. She didn’t know about anypony toothless, especially not the Wonderbolts. She stepped away from the hatter and looked guiltily up at her. Standing there she felt tiny and meaningless.

“My gem, what’s wrong?” Lightning stared at her hooves, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice the chasm in her mouth. She studied a crack on her left one. It was from the time she tripped in one of their doorframes. Lightning Dust never got quite used to walking on firm terrain. She was meant for clouds and air, but they had all agreed to bring a house up in the sky so she could grow up close to Cloudsdale, even if her mother was a unicorn. “Nothing. I’m sleepy.”

“Just go and brush your teeth and I’ll be right there.” After making the promise she disappeared into a door. Lightning Dust cocked her round head before she dashed inside another room. She leapt past the cloud exiting the fireplace. Waving her hoof alluringly she glided by a bookshelf, and the knowledge from all of Equestria was gone in a blur as she advanced into her room. She crash landed on her bed, hard enough for the pillow to smack into the window. The cloud took the shape of a pony and closed the door behind them. It got the pillow for her.

“Thank you for taking me home,” the filly said. Then she thoughtfully placed a hoof on her lips. “Does this mean that we’re best friends?” The cloud pony didn’t get a chance to respond before she heard steps outside the door. “Hide,” she hissed and her friend dodged beneath the bed simultaneously as she did with her quilt. If the patches of shadows connecting in the ceiling weren’t scary enough, Lightning Dust could feel the tension as she imagined the cloud watching her mother’s hooves stepping over to the bedside.

“Nighty Lighty.” The filly felt lips brush her temple gently. Whisperings came through them and spread across the furry field that was her forehead. “I’ve never been so proud of anypony.” Lightning Dust turned over. “Will dad come home soon? I want to show him my cutie mark…”

“I just sent the Peregrine for him,” she said. “Can I wait till he gets home?” Her mother sighed, and as if the action made her light enough, she rose to her hooves. “We’ll wake you up when he gets here.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes, my gem.” She left the room.

Lightning Dust waited for her father. An hour passed. And another. Knowing she would be awoken in time she still wasn’t able to catch any sleep, and dark rings lumped together beneath her electrified eyes. The cloud floated in the ceiling next to a poster of the Wonderbolts, defending her against shadows. “…and that is Soarin. Even with his sweet tooth…” In between words she felt for the missing tooth with her tongue. “…he is not to be underestimated in a race.” Her pointing hoof wandered to the next aviator. “And that…” Lightning yawned. “…must be you.”


***


The small body twitched as the blanket was removed. She sluggishly lifted her head. A familiar face slowly put itself together in front of her, and a spur of awareness hit her. “Father,” she said and threw her front legs over his neck. “Hey there little buddy,” he said and patted her on the head. “Looks like you’ve been struck by lightning.”
Before he could chip in his admiration she rambled on in an outburst of energy. “And before that I was racing against my new best friend. Her name is Spitfire! You remember her, right?”

“From the Wonderbolts?” he said quizzically. “Then I was struck by lightning because I beat her to the finish line.” She was ignoring him completely. “And I got my cutie mark.” Finished wrapping up her story she suddenly noticed how exhausted she was. Her head fell back to the pillow. A barrier blocked her legs from moving and her wings were throbbing. Together with knowing the enigma under her bed it was the most violent sensation in the night.

“You’re the most remarkable little pony I know,” he said warmly and ruffled her mane before letting his hoof fall back to his side. But she was already dreaming about racing through monsoons of clouds stitched together by clattering money raining teeth.


***


When Lightning Dust had slept in it was lunch time. She rubbed her eyes and flexed her sore wings. On her bedside table she found a little pouch on top of a paper. Before she investigated it she picked the pouch up in her mouth. It felt heavy, especially when lacking the strength of a tooth. She hadn’t been thinking about the missing mouthpiece since she had told the cloud about the Wonderbolts. Removing the jingling pouch she got a closer look on the note. Golden glitter was drizzled between the complicated letters.


“To Lightning Dust.
I found your tooth, but I’m in need of the ivory. I hope you understand and to repay you I left a few bits.
The Tooth Fairy.”


Lightning Dust looked into the pouch and gawked at the sight of riches. Every flicker of shame died out. She instantly jumped out of bed and searched for clues in the closet, in the drawers, in her shoebox and among old toys. Tripping over a trail of glittering powder she tracked it to her window, which was left half open. She was hoping to spot the alleged Tooth Fairy, but she could only see acres of clouds spread across the blue sky and a vibrant rainbowfall on the horizon.

The pegasus knelt next to her bed and tilted her head to get a better look into the dark below it. “Be right back,” she whispered to the cloud. Mystified by how the note, money and tooth somehow was connected she tried to grasp the fairy’s existence. She headed out of the bedroom. A sweet scent led her to the kitchen.

To her surprise, her father was still home. “I heard you were up, so I made hot chocolate.” The brown liquid had the soft tone of his coat which gradually soaked into the pure marshmallows plopping on the surface. She found her seat by the table and balanced the ultimate cocoa between her hooves. “I see your wound has almost healed,” he said as she involved herself in a sip.

“Where’s the nearest tooth shop?” Lightning Dust said with brown tinted lips wrapping around a marshmallow. “Why?” His eyes widened in amusement and expectation as she stared down into the cup. “A mysterious fairy gave me money to replace the one I lost,” she admitted in a ragged exhale. A drop of water unsettled the hot chocolate’s surface. She munched harder on the marshmallow. In the midst of her battle against tears the sound of laughter erupted from the bottom of her father’s broad chest.

“What’s so funny?” Drooping snot shot back into her nostril as she sniffed. “It will grow back,” he swore and placed a hoof on his heart, as if making an oath. The glee kept him from composing his poker face in the long run. The filly was even more confused. “What’s the money for?”

“It’s her job to collect little fillies’ teeth and return the favor with money.” He fell down to all of his four and his golden eyes had a glimmer which she recognized very well. It was time for a story.
He lowered his body and spread his wings like a deck of cards. “During the day she naps on stars. You remember what I said about the stars?”

“They’re only visible during the night, but are still there in the day!” she said, proud about the fact she remembered. “Correct. Well, she is allowed to take naps because of the important job she does during the night,” he said theatrically. A night sky spread across the kitchen’s floor, walls and ceiling, and the cupboards’ handles became stars. “Then she will watch over all the regular ponies below. The different perspective that all pegasi share gives her a superior sight no missing tooth will slip by.” His head had emerged from behind the edge of the table across Lightning Dust. His eyes darted suspiciously back and forth. “As soon as she spots one she will…” His eyes suddenly rested at the little Pegasus. “… sneak into the owner’s room to cast a treasure spell. And in the morning, the only thing left is bits and a trail of stardust.”

He rose abruptly and brushed away any dust-balls with his wings. In a heartbeat the kitchen switched back to normal.
“What does she need the teeth for?” Lightning Dust wondered. This silenced her father for a little while.
“Of course, she makes stars of them.”
“Is she the Princess?” she said eagerly, finally understanding.
“No, but she works for her.”
“Why doesn’t they keep the money?”
“If she didn’t pay for your tooth it wouldn’t be her tool to use.”

Lightning Dust supported her thoughtful head on a hoof. “Why don’t we rip out all of our teeth so you won’t have to work at the snowflake factory and we won’t be poor anymore?” she suggested.
“Who told you we were poor?” he asked immediately, raising a brow.
“Crane Wing in class said so.”
“We don’t rip our teeth out because we don’t need to and it would hurt very badly.” A sudden grimness appeared in his otherwise charming voice. She understood.
“Well, how much did you get?” He changed the topic as abruptly as his voice. “Umh, 13 bits.”
“Isn’t it what you needed for the tickets?”	

Lightning Dust hadn’t realized it before. “Y-yes!” She was so excited that she fell out of the chair, but was rescued by her wings. “Is it alright if I bring a cup of cacao to my friend so we can celebrate?”
“You mean Spitfire?”
“How did you know?”
“You told me last night.”
“Oh.”
“Where is she?”
“I’m not supposed to say…”
“Here you go, one shot for Spitfire.” Lightning Dust cocked her head and carried the cup with her mouth. Then she crept beneath the bed and pushed it over to the cloud. Her words crossing the warm cup she told about the Tooth Fairy, the good news and at last she ran out of good ghost stories. There was nothing more to tell so they stepped outside to stretch their wings.

The colt found the cop beneath the bed and poured the now cold chocolate into the sink. The surface had an alien feeling. He washed it thoroughly. Nothing but a brown circle was left on the bottom.