//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 - Bright New Sky // Story: Flying in a Blue Dream // by DeerTrax //------------------------------// Flying in a Blue Dream Chapter Three - Bright New Sky Spitfire stood upon the clouds at the edge of town, looking out over the open air to the pillar of earth that rose to sky less than a mile away from her. Around the mesa top, clouds had been gathered there by the pegasi upon which they built their housing. All about the sky, winged ponies of all colors flew in from every direction. They were sporting the same outfit that Spitfire wore. A yellow and blue vest, reminiscent of the Wonderbolt’s full flight suits, wrapped itself around the mare’s body and up her neck. She had been issued the outfit a couple days before at the recruiting office. This was the academy’s required dress for all cadets, and she wore it very well. Somepony sure thought so at least; she heard a catcall that came from behind her. “Dang, Spitfire,” the voice said. She spun to see who it was as Soarin came trotting up to her. “These vests definitely look better on you than me.” “Pfffft. You really think so?” “Of course! I mean, they pale in comparison to my handsomeness. You on the other hand...” A swift hoof upside the head brought the pale blue stallion’s ego back into check with an abrupt “Ouch!” “Shut up, you.” Spitfire wasn’t mad and even blushed a little at her friend’s teasing. It had been two weeks since they had met on their way to the recruiter’s, and during that time they had been hanging out quite a bit. Spitfire hadn’t had any close friends, but in those couple weeks, she and Soarin’ had grown nearly inseparable. “You ready?” “You betch’ya!” “Well then let’s do this. Care to race there?” “Haha, you know it!” The two pegasi spread their wings to the sky. Both of them took up a ready stance, setting their hooves into the cloud layer to ensure the best launch possible. Spitfire’s muscles had healed up since her mishap with the wall, and she was functioning at full capacity. She wasn’t gonna let Soarin’ have an easy flight. “On three,” the mare announce. “One. Twothree!” Spitfire was off like the fiery bolt on her flank. Soarin’ may have been caught off guard by his friend’s trickery, but he knew better and didn’t delay in taking flight after her. As fast as she was, Spitfire had let up a little to allow him to catch up just enough for him to yell out “You’ll have to try harder than that!” As soon as the challenge was issued, the yellow-orange pegasus found her speed again and shot way out ahead. “Show off,” were all the words Soarin’ could muster before pushing himself to match her speed. When he did finally catch up to her, it was long after she had landed on the runway that stretched across the plateau among the clouds. She was frozen on her hooves in awe of everything around her. "Quite a site, 'eh?" Soarin' asked, breaking the mare's stupor. "Huh? Oh, yeah. It really is." "You two," said a pegasi in a blue uniform and cap as he floated down toward them. The sun glinted off the mirrored aviators her wore, reflecting the power of his position. “Quit gawking and get to your training units.” “Y-yes sir!” both recruits responded in unison. When the drill sergeant had passed beyond earshot, the two turned to each other and giggled to themselves at their unintentional harmony. “Well, I guess I’ll see you ‘round,” Soarin’ said. “So soon after we just met up?” asked Spitfire. “You heard the stallion, we best be off to our assigned units. Don’t wanna start off on the wrong hoof, ya know?” “Haha, right. Well, I’ll see you around then!” “Ditto!” The young fliers gave each other a short hug before trotting off in separate directions. While they had signed up together, they had been sorted into different units. The recruiter had been given specific instructions to place Spitfire into the Wonderbolt’s ace training unit. Though he didn’t fully understand why, he did as he was told. Soarin’ on the other hoof, had been put into one of the regular outfits. He wasn't terribly happy to be considered “average,” but it was certainly better than not having gotten in at all. As Spitfire trotted along the rows and rows of buildings that lined the runway, she noticed how strikingly similar they were to each other. Now, there wasn’t ever a lot of variation in pegasi architecture, but all the buildings here were completely indistinguishable from each other. The only indications they gave as to their identity were the signs that had been hung above the doorways. The mare ignored most of what they said, though, as she was looking for one very specific building – the Alpha Barracks, residency of the ace training unit. When she finally found the structure, it was no different from the rest, save for its location. It had been positioned at the very end of the row, near the edge of the plateau.  Spitfire only assumed this was so they could have the best view possible. She paused for a minute as she approached the door, reflecting on what she was about to step into. This would be the beginning of a new chapter in her life. It meant trying new things, finding new goals, and meeting new challenges. It also meant making new friends – and new enemies. The visions of flight school and the torment she faced from Silver Rush flooded back into her mind. What if these elite fliers are like them? she asked herself. What if they reject me or try to bring me down? No. She wasn’t about to give in to her fears before she met these ponies. To do so would have been giving up on her dream of becoming a full fledged Wonderbolt, and that wasn’t something she was about to do. Taking a deep breath and clearing her mind of her worries, she stepped up the short, wooden staircase and pushed open the door. The sound of chatter hit her ears, though it immediately stopped as the occupants of the one-room barracks became aware of her presence. She looked around at all the ponies that now found themselves looking at her intently. Their eyes seemed to be judging her every move as she stood bewildered in the doorway. Most of them were mares, with only 3 of them being colts. All of them appeared to be around the same age as Spitfire, perhaps only a year or two older. The uncomfortable silence and incredulous looks forced her to speak. “I-is this the Alpha Barracks?” Spitfire asked, still a bit intimidated by the stares she was receiving. “I-I’m Spitfire, I was assigned to the ace training unit, starting today.” The quiet persisted for a moment longer before the atmosphere in the room completely changed gears. The noiseless air became lively and everypony swarmed the new recruit with warm welcomes. Two of the mares who had not approached her with the rest of the masses stepped forward after the rest had cleared. “Welcome to Alpha, Spitfire,” one of the pair greeted. “My name’s Storm Chaser, and this is Lightning Dancer.” “P-pleased to meet you.” The orange mare was a little overwhelmed by her exceedingly hearty welcome, and wasn’t quite sure to expect from these two. “Quite,” was Lightning Dancer’s only response; Storm Chaser simply remained silent. “Where are you girls from?” Spitfire questioned. “Canterlot. Both of us are from Canterlot,” Storm stated bluntly. Lightning then added, “We’re sisters. Twins, to be precise.” The resemblance between the two was impeccable, and Spitfire had noticed it when they first approached her. However, she didn’t want to say anything unless she was sure. Both were the same dark shade of blue as the twilight sky, with manes as white as the stars. “Well, make yourself at home, I guess,” Storm Chaser said. “The bottom bunk at the back of the barracks is yours.” “Thanks,” Spitfire replied. The two other mares turned and went back to their own business without saying anything else. Well, they seemed nice enough, Spitfire mused to herself, but at least one of them seemed a bit too conceited. The orange mare put her remarks aside and proceeded further into the barracks. Approaching her assigned bunk, the nervicitement she felt from finally being at the academy wilted a bit; the mattress was bare and almost looked to be less comfortable than the ground. I guess glory doesn’t come without sacrifice. Still, I’m here, so I can’t complain. After coming to terms with the fact that this would be her only place of solace in the coming months, Spitfire lay herself upon the bed. Thoughts about everything leading her up to this point washed over her mind. She had come a long way since she was a filly, and she smiled at every single memory she had of Soarin’ and herself. As she drifted through these memories, something broke in and pulled her away from them. A sound outside the window nearest her bunk drew her attention. The mare sat up in her bed and peered out through the glass. In the fields behind the barracks, a group of ponies were attempting to march in formation – a horribly misshapen formation. Amidst the loose company was the real reason she continued to stare at their frivolous parade: the sky blue stallion with the spiky blue mane. “LEFT! LEFT! LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT!” The drill sergeant barked repeated. “Oh dear Celestia, it’s only our first day. This is murder.” The light green mare marching next to Soarin’ chided. “We’ve only been marching for thirty minutes,” Soarin’ pointed out. “It’s not like we’ve had to run laps.” One of the stallions flanking the party moved inward next to the pair. “You two! What’re your names and where are you from?” The mare gave her new marching buddy a distasteful glare before responding to the stallion’s inquiry. “Rainy Haze, sir! I come from Fillydelphia, sir!” “Good. And you?” “M-my name’s Soarin’, sir! I’m from Cloudsdale!” “Nice to meet you, Rainy Haze and Soarin’. Now give me 20 laps around the field! And make ‘em quick. You don’t wanna miss lunch, do ya?” If looks could kill, Rainy would have struck the sky coloured pegasus next to her dead on the spot. She let out a disgusted sigh and pushed her way past him on her way out of the formation. Soarin’ followed, a little bewildered at what had just happened. As he trotted after his partner in crime, a golden-yellow face in a nearby window caught his gaze. The mare on the other side of the glass smiled and waved to him, and he returned the gesture. “Soarin’! Get moving! NOW!” the instructor shouted behind him. “A-alright, sir!” Soarin’ called back. The stallion then trotted off to run his laps. He quickly gained speed as his gait increased. A look of determination was plastered across his face along with a tremendous smile. I’ll prove myself for you, Spitfire. Spitfire lay back down on her new bed. All of her emotions faded away save for happiness. She could deal with the lesser regimented accommodations in order to be here. To be a wonderbolt. To be with her best friend. The sounds of the barracks droned on but she didn’t hear any of it; she was completely lost in thought. However, that which is taken for granted is usually only noticed when it goes missing. The noise she had drowned out with her daydreaming suddenly ceased as the door to the barracks swung open abruptly. This swift change in atmosphere snapped her back to reality. When she looked to the door to see what had caused the disturbance, she sprung from the bed and took to attention like everypony else had. “Alright, maggots, listen up!” The light green stallion in the entryway strode in with his head held high. “Today’s your first day of training. You will only refer to me as drill sergeant, captain, or sir. You will report to the fields immediately after lunch. You will march for as long as you are told. You will follow orders, and you will sweat out every last drop of pathetic pegasus sweat in you. Welcome to the academy. Now go eat.” “Sir, yes sir!” the entire barracks sang at once. Just as quickly as he had come in, Mist Flash spun on his hooves and trotted back out of the barracks. He was a completely different pony than Spitfire remembered. She had seen his softer side before, and she knew he wasn’t normally this stringent. It was likely that he had to take up this tougher mask while under the drill sergeant’s cap; he was training the elites after all. After the stallion had departed, the barracks returned to life as everypony finished their conversations from before. Those who didn’t seek to continue talking began to file out of the building in search of the mess hall. Spitfire’s stomach growled loudly at her; she hadn’t eaten anything yet and her nervousness was eating away at her. She, too, made her way outside and towards the dining hall. As she approached the building, a voice behind her brought her hunger-driven advance to a halt. “Yo, Spitfire!” The golden mare spun round to see Soarin’ running up to her. Behind him, Rainy Haze was dragging along. She was panting heavily and hung her head low, looking defeated. “Hey Soarin’. Have fun with your laps?” she joked. The stallion glowered a little at her but relented and let out a good chuckle. “Haha, of course! Gotta take what they dish out if I wanna make it, don’t I?” “Psssh. Don’t get so full of yourself, ya big show off.” Spitfire gave him a friendly shove with her hoof. “C’mon, let’s go get some food.” “M-may I join you?” Rainy Haze stepped up to the pair as they turned to face her. Her head was still hung low and she didn’t dare meet Soarin’s eyes, but it didn’t seem as if she were mad at him still. Instead the glances she did give him were more out of her own shame than out of hate. “Sure,” Spitfire answered, “we’d love to have you join us. I’m Spitfire, by the way. I take it you’ve already met Soarin’ here?” “T-thanks.” The downtrodden mare raised her head a little, a weak smile finding its way onto her face. “I’m Rainy Haze. And yes, I have.” “Pleased to meet you Rainy,” Spitfire responded before spinning ‘round again. The trio made their way into the mess hall, ready for their much-needed food. Inside, the building was filled with rows upon rows of tables. The tables were busy with ponies eating and making small talk in between bites. On either of the side walls were a succession of counters, set up buffet style and filled with all sorts of grasses and flowers. The three pegasi grabbed what looked good as they made their way through the lines. Spitfire took a daffodil and wheat bread sandwich with apple sauce on the side and a glass of lemonade. It was a simple meal, and didn’t really look that great, but it would have to do. After the three gathered their lunches they met up to look for a table. Almost all the seats were taken, but just when they were about to give up Spitfire spotted an opening across the room next to the two mares she had bet in her barracks. “Over there,” she said. “I think I found us a couple of seats.” The group worked their way through the maze of tables and ponies. When they got there, the table was barely occupied. All of the ponies who ringed it were from the same elite unit as Spitfire and were engaged in their own conversation; they didn’t even notice the trio at first. It wasn’t until the three of them sat down that the banter at the table ceased. All eyes turned on the newcomers and an eerie silence fell, lost in the surrounding noise of the cafeteria. Storm Chaser was the first to speak. “What do you think you’re doing?” “I’d imagine we’re sitting,” Soarin’ jested. Storm didn’t like that, but it was Lightning Dancer that spoke their minds. “Exactly. What do you think you you’re doing sitting at our table?” “What do you mean?” Rainy questioned timidly. “Well, Spitfire’s more than welcome to sit here,” Storm Chaser informed them, “but you two aren’t.” “This table has traditionally been Alpha-only,” Lighting added. “So what‽” Spitfire challenged, raising her voice a bit and bringing a hush over much of the cafeteria. She didn’t care that most ponies were staring at her now. These two had seemed nice enough when she first met them, and even if they did have a big ego, she didn’t expect this. The way they were treating Soarin’ and Rainy was starting to border on the same sort of behaviour she had to put up with during flight school. She wasn’t going to have any of it. “So what?” Storm and Lighting echoed simultaneously, both looking shocked that somebody would talk back to them. They exchanged glances before coming up with a response. “So, you are an elite in the Wonderbolts. You are one of us, and why should we—mingle—with the lesser recruits?” “Lesser recruits‽” Soarin’ shouted back. “Why I oughta…” “Soarin’, stay cool,” Spitfire said, putting a hoof to her friend. “You want me to sit here or not?” Storm responded coolly, “Of course we do. But dump the rabble.” “If you want me to sit here, my friends stay,” Spitfire demanded. “Don’t like it, then maybe I don’t want to be one of you.” By now the entire mess hall had gone silent with everypony staring at the quarrel unfolding before them. Nopony was moving and all activity had ceased completely. A tense air hung about the place, and the pressure was on both parties involved in the controversy. Spitfire didn’t give a buck. The two mares stared at each other, Spitfire’s dark orange eyes locked intently on Storm Chaser’s teal blue. “F-fine,” Storm finally gave up. The cafeteria sprung back to life, and the tension relaxed. Spitfire and those at the formerly Alpha-only table continued with their meals. Storm Chaser said nothing more during the duration of their lunch, choosing instead to gaze off into her own little spot on the walls. “Thanks,” Spitfire said to her when they had all finished eating, but Storm didn’t respond. The orange mare turned to Soarin’ and Rainy and all three just shrugged. Before they had time to question it further, the door at the end of the building swung open and a trio of ponies in training officer uniforms entered, led by Mist Flash. “Alright, everypony on their hooves; lunch is over,” he yelled. “Training for all units begins in 10 minutes. Anypony late to their units will be scrubbing latrines all night. Hop to it!” Again, Mist Flash retreated as swiftly as he had entered. Chaos was left in his wake as the ponies scrambled to clean up and get their flanks in motion. Nopony wanted to be late. Spitfire, Soarin’, and Rainy Haze exchanged their goodlucks and went off on their way. This was go time.