//------------------------------// // The Game // Story: Winning, and Why // by 8686 //------------------------------// Show me your friends, and I’ll tell you who you are. — Zebra Proverb. “Um... Sky-Five?” A quaint cottage. A beautiful day. A tense battle. “Ha! Not even close, Fluttershy.” The glorious midsummer sun had already spent the morning raising the temperature of Fluttershy’s humble chalet to a hot – though mercifully not yet stifling – level, and though several of the characterful latticed windows stood open, not a breath of wind saw fit to disturb the thick, stuffy air. Where normally the cottage would be filled with the natural, pleasant ambient noise of dozens of assorted birds and critters, instead it lay silent, the torrid atmosphere encouraging most to retire to their birdhouses or cubby-holes and nap through the dry heat. Fortunately the temperature had yet had no adverse effect on the wits of the two competitors, locked in combat opposite each other at Fluttershy’s dining table. Rainbow Dash cocked a familiar, confident grin, placed a white marker on her board, and considered her next move. Battleclouds; a game for two players. One part strategy and one part luck, each pony hid their briefcase-shaped board from the other, and took turns to guess where their opponent had hidden their assortment of different-shaped tokens. Some of the tokens bore the appearance of clouds, others were animals, and some were weather phenomena, though by convention, all were collectively referred to as ‘clouds’ for brevity. Finding an opponent’s token by guessing its co-ordinates entitled one to another go, and the winner was the first pony to find all of the other’s pieces. Rainbow Dash was already well on her way to victory, narrowing her eyes as she now turned her attention to the hill. On each board – on a piece of paper set behind the gridded, clear plastic layers into which the markers and tokens were inserted – lay a printed image of a static, countryside scene, including landmarks such as a coast, a hill, a lake, a meadow, a village and so on. Each illustration had been vibrant and striking once, but after so many years the images on both boards had become sun-bleached and weary. They were only flavour – something to look at while you played, and not intended to have any effect on the actual gameplay. But... Fluttershy always put her Seagull somewhere on the hill. Because, of course, the Seagull really enjoyed the view from the hill and that’s where he liked to be. And she always put her Bumblebee somewhere close to the Seagull. Because, naturally, the Bumblebee and the Seagull were ‘friends.’ Rainbow Dash had long since worked out all of Fluttershy’s little rules, and since she placed her own tokens at random, she always held the advantage. “Cloud... four,” she guessed, to be rewarded a moment later with the sight of Fluttershy picking a bird-shaped token from her board and handing it over with a faint – and oddly contented – little smile. “That’s my last one,” she said sweetly. Dash looked up in brief surprise. “Really?” Already? She looked down again and counted up the tokens she’d already captured from her opponent. Sure enough, she had the full set. “Looks like you win, Rainbow Dash,” said Fluttershy, in that soft but endlessly supportive voice she had. “Aw yeah! Chalk up another one right here. Hey, I wonder if that’s some kind of record or something?” mused Rainbow as she focused on her board, briefly counting up her total number of ‘miss’ markers while wondering what the record was for, ‘winning a game of Battleclouds in the fewest moves.’ Such a thing had to exist, right? Of course it did. In fact, she was so good at Battleclouds that she’d probably broken all sorts of other records too, without even realising it. Probably, ‘quickest game.’ Possibly ‘most decisive victory,’ too. Almost certainly ‘longest winning streak.’ She couldn’t recall the last time she’d lost a game versus Fluttershy. Fluttershy closed her board, having packed all of her tokens and markers neatly inside, and placed it inside the long-faded and ratty old cardboard box the game came in. Only then did Rainbow Dash notice that she hadn’t begun to do the same, her thoughts having momentarily brought her to inaction. She absently cleared her own board and closed it down, but even now found a little frown forming as her thoughts continued to distract. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d lost, versus Fluttershy. That was irritating. Like her memory was temporarily busted or something. Ever the athlete, she hated the thought of any part of her not being in perfect working order, and she tried to give her brain a kick up the rump – tried to force it to remember the last time she’d lost to Fluttershy. Really lost – that time in the hospital didn’t count – but her memory remained a complete blank and her lack of success started to nag her, becoming an itch that she couldn't scratch. “Rainbow Dash? Is something wrong?” “Huh? Oh... nah. I was just wondering whether I’ve broken the Battleclouds record for ‘longest winning streak’ yet. I’ve gotta be getting close, right? It feels like forever since you won one.” Fluttershy just gave a sweet little chuckle and took Rainbow’s board carefully, holding it closed since the little catch designed to do so had long ago broken off. She placed it neatly back into the old box beside its partner and gingerly took the set over to the small cupboard near the wall where it would be kept safe, ready for next week’s game. “I mean, I wonder how many of these I’ve actually won now, altogether?” Dash thought aloud. There was a record there somewhere, she just knew it. “Oh. You really don’t know?” Dash’s eyes lit up. “You do know?” Awesome! Fluttershy had been keeping score! All this time! And Twilight definitely had a copy of the Whinnys Book of Records. A plan began to form. “How many?” she asked eagerly. Fluttershy returned a blank look for a moment, her face a picture of honest confusion. Then in the next moment her expression was replaced with a warm, happy smile. “Well, all of them.” Dash’s excitement peaked. “All of them? Seriously? I’ve never lost?” Fluttershy simply nodded her head a little, her small smile never leaving. This was awesome! The sheer number of games she’d played with Fluttershy – that had to be dozens, scores, possibly even hundreds! – the laws of probability alone suggested she had to have lost some, and yet she was really undefeated? She had to have broken some kind of record. Plus, it meant her memory wasn’t kaput after all. Yep, everything was coming up Rainbow Dash today! She was already mentally composing the letter she was going to [get Spike to] write to the records people. Dear Sir or Madam. Please put me in the book of records for most number of wins at Battleclouds because it turns out, I’ve never lost. ...I’ve never lost. Wait... hold on. Rainbow Dash’s brow furrowed and confusion returned. She looked curiously at her longtime friend. “You... you’ve never won?” Fluttershy chuckled her sweet chuckle. “Oh, it’s okay, Dashie. It’s your favourite game after all. You’re much better at it than I am, and I know how happy winning makes you.” “But... you’ve never won?” Dash repeated. “I mean... how is that even fun for you?” Dash gave herself a little head-shake, fixated on this new conundrum. Why would Fluttershy keep playing her all this time if all she ever did was lose? That just didn’t make sense. But Fluttershy didn’t reply, only looked at her with that contented, but vaguely confused smile. Dash supposed that, even though Fluttershy had never so much as hinted they should play anything else, it wasn’t really fair to keep playing a game she’d demonstrably never win at. Winning through skill was one thing but this – now that she knew... well, it felt a little like browbeating, and that wasn't cool. “Okay, whatever. But maybe next week we should play a different game. Y’know, something that you’re good at instead. Even the odds a little, okay?” she said, standing now with a smirk and beginning to saunter casually towards the cottage door. There was a quiet, barely audible, “Oh, okay,” from behind her, and then gentle hoof-falls as Fluttershy followed her, ready to say their goodbyes and see her out. Dash opened the door, inviting a flood of searing white daylight into the cottage. She stepped outside into the hot, noon summer sun, the sky a perfect, unbroken canvas of blue and nary the whisper of a breeze to be found on the air. The perfect day for an afternoon nap in the boughs of a leafy, shady tree somewhere. She turned to Fluttershy, finding her friend’s little smile now reformed. “So, um... same time next week?” asked Fluttershy. “Sure,” said Dash. “Just let me know what we’re gonna be playing sometime before then.” After all, if it was something like Chess, she was going to need to brush up on the rules. Or even learn them to begin with. Fluttershy, caught a little off guard, took an instinctive half-step backwards. “Oh... you want me to choose? I... we... we could just play Battleclouds, if... if you like? I really don’t mind.” Rainbow Dash frowned. “Come on Fluttershy. Think of a game you want to play. That you’re good at. It doesn’t matter what it is.” “Oh,” said Fluttershy again. Suddenly the smile was gone, a sheepish look appeared, and one foreleg absently rubbed another. “I’m... not that good at any games, really.” Dash let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, fine. Just think of the last game you won at, and next week we’ll play that instead. No biggie.” “Um...” There was an awkward, pregnant silence. “Or, y’know, any game you’ve won at?” Fluttershy scratched the floor with a hoof and looked down. Rainbow Dash stared at Fluttershy with a raised, impatient eyebrow. The silence persisted. The eyebrow fell and Rainbow Dash frowned once again. “Seriously?” Fluttershy looked up sheepishly. “Oh come on!” cried Dash. “You’re not seriously telling me you can’t remember any game you’ve won?” Fluttershy’s expression turned from sheepish to awkward guilt. Then she gave a little nod of her head, as opposed to a shake. Dash’s annoyance slowly ebbed as realisation dawned, replaced with an odd mix of surprise and horror. “You’re... not seriously telling me you’ve never won... any game?” Another slow, shallow nod. A sweet, guilty half-smile. A shocked expression and a dropped jaw. “What? A game of checkers? A round of backgammon? A hoof of cards?!” Fluttershy shook her head. “Okay, okay. What about non-games? You’ve won a race or something, right? Or a contest? A competition? A raffle?!” “Oh, no. Nothing like that.” Rainbow’s world was being turned upside down. She rubbed her face desperately with her hoof, trying to literally wipe the surprise off before looking once more at the strange, somehow-content countenance of the friend in front of her. “Fluttershy... you’re saying that you’ve never won? You’ve never come first? At anything? Ever?” “Well... no.” She looked back at Dash’s amazed face and clearly felt the need to expand. “I mean, it’s not like I lose on purpose. But I know I’m not good enough at anything to actually win it. I don’t mind. Really. I know winning makes some ponies very happy, but... I guess I just don’t understand what’s so important about it.” Rainbow Dash’s brain almost imploded. “You... what? You don’t get what’s important about winning?!” Fluttershy shook her head. “It’s awesome! It’s... it’s... well, it’s important because it’s winning! Because it’s... because if you’re not a winner you’re a...” No, wait. She stopped herself. That wasn’t fair. Just because Fluttershy hadn’t won anything... well, she wasn’t a loser, okay? Fluttershy was awesome, she just didn’t know what winning was like was all. She’d never had the chance to find out. And Rainbow Dash, for whom winning was second nature, was at this moment singularly failing to articulate why it was something to which everypony should aspire with the same ambition. It was just... winning. And that, in and of itself was both the answer, and no answer at all. Frustration at last got the better of her and she let out an exasperated grunt. “You know what? Never mind!” Of course winning was important! What did Fluttershy know? To understand winning, you had to do it, and if she couldn’t be bothered to win something to see how awesome it really was, that was her problem! Rainbow Dash turned and flared her wings, her suddenly petulant thoughts driving her to take skywards. “Wait!” said Fluttershy with a desperate little inflection. “We’re still playing next week, aren’t we?” Dash turned with a frown, ready to snap a petty, ‘What’s the point?’ in Fluttershy’s direction. But she saw Fluttershy’s face, half pleading and half disappointed, and forced her sudden strange temper down. “Sure,” was her curt reply. Then she flapped her wings and took flight into the hot, clear summer sky, leaving the other pony where she stood. Fluttershy watched her friend go from the door of her cottage. She wasn’t sure what she’d said to upset her. She’d never won anything... but she didn’t see that as a problem, and she certainly couldn’t understand why it should be a problem to anypony else. She looked at the ground and sighed. Well... she supposed it wouldn’t be the first time she couldn’t work out what she’d done to make other ponies dislike her. It had been happening since she was a filly, after all... * * * Fluttershy hated Flight Camp. Well, maybe hated was a strong word, but she really, really, really, really disliked it. It wasn’t the instructors. They were all perfectly lovely and understanding, for the most part. It wasn’t really the lessons either, even though the teachers had resorted to putting her in classes with foals a year younger than she was. No. She knew it was horrible to say, but... it was the other students. She was a laughing stock. She tried, oh, she really tried, but she just wasn’t a good flyer at all. Exercises and drills that even foals in the year below had mastered still caused her endless trouble, and she just didn’t know why flight wouldn’t click for her the way she noticed it did for every other pony in the school. And every time she messed up a turn and spiraled out of control, or wobbled off balance and crashed more than she landed, the other ponies laughed at her. Teased her. Called her names. And... she just didn’t know why. She couldn't work out why the fact that she wasn’t as good at something as them – that she struggled more than them – made them not like her. Why couldn’t they be nice to her instead? In her own mind it just made so much more sense to be nice. Being nice was so much... nicer than being mean. And it wasn’t like they were just horrible ponies, because they were nice to each other. Just not her. She was the outsider. The freak. The un-flier. But even though she’d been tarred with that brush... she still didn’t understand why it naturally followed that ponies wanted to hate her rather than help her. After all, were she in their place, she would be nice; she’d want to help... She didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense. She... she hated Flight Camp. But frustrating though it was, it seemed it was just a fact. She struggled, and so she was shunned. She’d stopped trying to work out why. She could remember when she had first started here, her parents had told her not to be nervous, assuring her that all she had to do was be herself and she’d soon make lots of new friends. But it hadn’t taken long to learn that when she did work up the courage to offer a wave or a warm hello, friendly greetings were met only with turned backs and disdainful giggles, and the infantile hope that she’d ever find a real friend among her peers had long since left her. She just kept to herself now, tried her best in the exercises, and when she inevitably failed more than she succeeded, she did all she could to let the mocking laughter roll off her, wishing for the day she could finally leave more than anything else in the world. She didn’t talk much anymore. Sometimes days would go by when the only sounds she made were the frightened little yelps from her throat when she fell. Much like the one she was making now, actually, as her gangly forelegs caught the bottom of the cloud-ring and she tripped, legs pinwheeling, and falling rump first back towards the rec building. Her wings flapped in an uncoordinated flurry as she hit the angled cloud-roof and began to slide, gaining speed. The bottom of the roof curved upwards into a slight lip, and when Fluttershy hit it her momentum catapulted her outwards, over the runway, and straight towards the flagpole on the far side. Fortunately, she missed the pole itself. Not the flag, however, which enveloped her before being torn from its bindings and wrapping itself around her as her now solely gravity-powered flight at last came to an end. She hit the surface of the cloud with a whump, lying on her belly, and slowly began to shift the red canvas of the flag off herself. The faint hope that her latest catastrophe might have gone unnoticed was immediately crushed. “Ha-ha! Nice going, Klutzershy!” said a grey-coated colt; one of a pair who now descended and landed close, standing over her and leering. “They oughta ground you permanently!” “Ha! My baby brother can fly better than you!” scoffed his tan-coated companion, while Fluttershy did nothing to them except sit there and absorb their scorn. Even now they were both beginning to laugh at her with derisive, contemptuous guffaws. But if she stayed quiet and still, and didn’t meet their gaze, well, usually it would stop after a little while and the bullies would go away. Hopefully before they made her upset enough to cry. If she cried, they’d stay and make fun of her for crying too. She’d never understand it. Why couldn’t ponies just want to make each other happier instead of... instead of miserable. She felt the beginnings of tears. She felt like she was about to cry. And then, out of nowhere... It happened so quickly. There was a streak in the sky. Then a blur, and then a rush of wind. All of a sudden there was another pony there too, with a cyan coat and sporting a mane and tail that comprised every colour in the rainbow. Rainbow Dash. She was one of the most popular fillies at the camp, and always seemed to have lots of friends following her around. She was one of the best flyers too and Fluttershy had used to daydream about what it might be like to be real friends with a confident pony like her. Maybe if she had a friend like that she’d learn to fly better, or make other new friends. But while it was nice to pretend, it was the most far-fetched of fantasies. She’d never actually spoken to her for real, and Fluttershy’s lack of any kind of social circle ensured she never would. The only thing Fluttershy really knew of Rainbow Dash was that she happened to belong to the ever-shrinking pool of ponies who hadn’t yet made fun of her. And now it looked like she was about to break that duck. Except... for some reason she was stood next to her. Slightly in front, actually, and facing the two bullies, squaring up to them with a resolute frown. And then she shouted at them. Three words which Fluttershy would never in a hundred years have expected anypony to say. “Leave her alone!” And from that point, from that exact moment... things started to change. * * * The free, wide heavens called Rainbow Dash to them. She didn’t dally, but without hurrying either she carried herself above the band of thick, hot air close to the ground and into the cooler, breezy layer high, high above the earth. The crystal-clear dome of the vast, open sky surrounding her was unmarred by cloud from horizon to horizon; an infinite space in which she could do whatever she wanted, go as fast as she wanted, be as daring as she wanted. Up here she was alone and without equal, and she restlessly began to put herself through a series of moderate turns and loops, the cool wind on her coat and feathers, in her mane and in her face, feeling infinitely refreshing after the stuffy air of the cottage. Flying always helped her think. She knew this. She knew she knew it. She just didn’t know she knew she knew it. Winning. Winning was always the goal. The outcome. The endgame. For her, it was always the answer. And now, suddenly, it was the question. If winning wasn’t the end itself... if it was simply the means to another end... then what was that end? Why did ponies try to win? What was it about, ‘winning’ that was so attractive? What did you really get out of it? There was an answer. She knew there was. She just couldn’t get a hold of it, and she growled in frustration as her loops became tighter and faster, her improvised routine carrying her over the rolling fields of the orchard far below. It wasn’t like she was unique. Other ponies enjoyed winning too, and strove for it just as hard as she did. Dash instinctively peered downwards, towards the crimson and white barn she found herself above, and even now spied a distant, tiny orange speck busying itself in some activity near the northeast corner. Without realising it, her subconscious aerial display was already bringing her closer to the ground as her frustrated musings continued to tax her conscious capacity. What did she know about winning as a concept? As an ideal?  She knew she loved it. She knew she was good at it. And she knew she always wanted more of it. Those feelings were instilled in her. She didn’t know why, but they were part of her and had been since her first ever win... * * * Screaming through the air, soaring upwards, Rainbow Dash tore through the chequered banner with neither of her rivals anywhere in sight. The multicoloured wake behind her left a rainbow contrail high over Cloudsdale as she brought herself to an arc and gradually slowed her speed. Her heart was pounding, her adrenaline was pumping, and the rush of cold wind on her flanks and in her mane imbued an exhilaration that was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The headrush slowly passed, and she descended back towards the flight camp on the outskirts of the city where practically all of the foals at the school were now waiting for her with uproarious cheers and adoration. They chanted her name. The complimented her on her brand new, totally awesome cutie-mark. They begged her to teach them how to do the amazing trick she’d just performed – completely by accident if she were being honest. And they congratulated her on winning. Oh yeah, she’d won. And not just by a little. She’d decimated her opponents. Hah! Maybe that’d teach them that they weren’t all that, and that they shouldn’t go around picking on... Actually, where was she? It’d be nice to tell her that she wouldn’t have to worry about those punks making fun of her for a while. Except she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d wandered off? “Hey, where’d she go?” she asked the crowd at large. “Who?” “You know. The flag pony?” “Oh. At the start you guys were all, whoosh and she span and lost her balance.” “And?” asked Dash, confused. “And she’s... really not a good flyer,” said one of her classmates as she and a few others peered pointedly over the edge of one of the broken clouds where the crowd of foals had gathered. Rainbow Dash’s blood turned to ice. All colour and confidence drained from her and a sick lump invaded her stomach. She followed their gaze downwards. Towards the ground. The really solid, hard, unforgiving ground. Her mouth went dry. Ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Without even thinking she leaped over the edge of the cloud, wings pumping, diving quickly, driving herself downwards. Rainbow Dash scanned the face of the earth as she grew lower and lower, looking for something she hoped she wouldn’t see – a pony-shaped crater and possibly a filly who was horribly injured or worse. But she saw nothing of the kind, and in a way that was almost as bad. She brought herself to a hover six feet above a spot on the ground that she guessed was more or less directly under the start-point of the race, and found herself in a small glade of trees set on a rolling pasture of green field. She looked around frantically, not seeing any evidence of an horrific impact. But she couldn’t see any other sign of the other pony either. “Uh, hello?” she called loudly. “Hello? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” Flapping her wings, she began to weave through the sparse copse of trees, searching for any sign. The longer she went without, the sicker she felt. If she was hurt out here... it was her fault. Coming to a small clearing, she finally saw her. The buttermilk-coated pegasus filly was nestled comfortably against the trunk and between the roots of a large, shady oak, and surrounded by a whole host of woodland creatures. Rabbits, butterflies, hedgehogs, bluejays, and many more besides. It was like a scene from some clichéd fairytale or something but, for a mercy, she looked like she was okay, and she was smiling a completely contented smile as the animals variously chittered and cosied up to her. Relief surged like a wave through Rainbow Dash, but she found herself still filled with nervous energy. She rushed without heed towards the other filly, sending most of the animal companions she’d accrued scattering in all directions, and drawing a sudden gaze from her teal eyes that first held a look of sheer panic, before slowly sinking into fear and apprehension. As Rainbow Dash got close, the filly actually started to try and shrink back further into the tree, away from her, hiding her face mostly behind her thick, pink mane. “There you are!” Rainbow quickly brought herself to a hover. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” “Um...” The filly began before trailing off. “N-no. I’m okay,” she said eventually, and oh-so-quietly, still averting her gaze. “Phew.” Dash drew a relieved foreleg across her brow. “Okay, we gotta hurry. Maybe we can still get back before the instructors realise we’re gone.” At this though, the other pony visibly flinched, as though stung by a small insect. She looked around heartbreakingly at her few remaining animal companions, who seemed to beseech her to stay, then upwards at Dash herself, and then finally beyond her to the sky. At length she drew a long, deep, shaky breath and, slowly, the filly rose to her hooves. She took a few steps out from beneath the tree canopy, tiptoeing in a wide arc nervously around Dash as though afraid of provoking a temperamental beast. The filly gazed at Cloudsdale high above and let her breath out in a slow, melancholic sigh, tainted with every shade of sadness. She hung her head and let out a whisper to herself that Dash only caught half of. “... so happy here.” Rainbow Dash had never seen anyone look so miserable. And this... really wasn’t the best time to be miserable. “Come on, we gotta move. Otherwise we’ll be in big trouble, and the Principal’s got it in for me as it is.” Dash flapped her wings a little harder and ascended by a couple of feet, hoping to draw the other pegasus with her. The filly raised her head, as though in mild surprise. “Oh. I... I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble because of me,” she said, softly. She spread her wings with obvious reluctance, but began to flap them all the same, ascending a few inches from the ground. Dash breathed another sigh of relief and turned for the sky. If they could get back to Flight Camp before the instructors noticed they were gone, they’d be home free. Otherwise... well, she was already breaking some pretty serious rules by leaving without permission, not to mention that the whole race thing itself wasn’t exactly authorised... After a moment though, she felt quite alone. She halted and hovered, looking down. Thirty feet below her, only a dozen feet from the ground, the other filly was flapping hard and making no progress at all. Seriously, for every three flaps of her wings she seemed to rise about a foot. At this rate it’d take them years to reach Cloudsdale! Dash lowered herself, bringing herself to the other pony’s altitude. And as soon as she did so – as soon as the filly noticed her, and noticed her looking, she began to lose height. She flapped no slower, in fact she even seemed to beat her wings harder in desperation, but the ability of flight seemed to drain from her like sand slipping through her hooves, and in seconds they were both back on the ground. Rainbow Dash stood opposite her and glared impatiently. “What was that?! Come on! We’ve gotta go!” The filly flinched again, this time as though struck, and turned her head away to once more hide her anguished expression behind her pink mane. “I just... can’t. Go ahead, make fun of me if you want,” she said with resignation and a ragged sigh. “I can’t do it. I can’t fly.” Then there was a sniffle and... oh... She was crying. Rainbow Dash had to stifle a groan. With some effort, she softened her voice. “Look... it’s okay, alright. You can do it. You’re just not spreading your feathers enough and that’s why you’re not getting any lift! Come on, just... try again.” When she made no move except to shrink back a little further, Dash stepped around, bringing herself closer and to where she could look into her eyes without them being obscured by her mane. “I’m not gonna make fun of you, okay? Honest,” she said. “Here, like this. Wings up, stretch those feathers as wide as you can, and start flapping.” And, after a hesitant moment, she did. Her wings beat slowly at first, but she lifted herself off the ground, and when Dash gave her a confident smile they slowly but surely began to climb together, back towards the clouds above. Ascent was painfully slow at first, but then, after a minute or two, Dash noticed something odd happening to the filly next to her. As they continued to climb and realisation seemed to dawn that Dash really wasn’t going to turn on her, betray her, and start teasing her horrendously, her confidence tentatively began to increase. And with it, in direct correlation, her ability. Her form improved, her speed gradually doubled, and she needed to put less effort into her wingbeats to achieve the same amount of lift. And when, just over halfway up the filly looked uncertainly toward her – her rhythm faltering for a moment – and Dash returned a warm, encouraging smile and a, “See? You’re doing awesome!” which was apparently contrary to expectations, she practically took off sprinting! There was nothing wrong with her. She could fly. Whatever issues she had, they were issues with confidence, not flight. Finally they reached the outskirts of Cloudsdale and the Flight Camp campus. Climbing over the edge of the clouds, the pair of them landed side by side at a trot on the runway and Rainbow Dash glanced over to see a look of pure elation on the other filly’s face. She clearly couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe what she’d done. And she looked back with a euphoric, happy smile into which was set pure gratitude: an acknowledgement that she’d never have done it alone. Rainbow Dash smiled back and then looked over at the rest of the campus, where her adoring fans had been gathered earlier. Uh oh. A tall, powder-blue coated adult pegasus with an off-white mane and a snowflake cutie-mark strode towards them with a scowl and halted before them both. It was clear from his posture he already knew what had happened and the filly beside her looked down, cowed while Rainbow Dash herself gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh, uh, hey, Principal Frost. Fancy seeing you here.” Pale Frost looked at them both most disapprovingly. “Rainbow Dash? I’m very disappointed in you. In both of you. You’re both in serious trouble.” Beside her, the other filly eeped quietly, but Rainbow Dash frowned, jumping straight to objection without missing a beat. “Hey! You can’t punish her! She didn’t do anything wrong!” And then, unexpectedly, her new friend piped up too, soft and beseeching. “Please, Principal Frost, don’t punish Rainbow Dash. It was my fault. All of this only happened because she tried to help me.” Pale Frost’s cold gaze was unmoved. “As I understand it, Fluttershy, you are the one who started the race in the first place. And Rainbow Dash? Not only did you organise and participate in this event – which could have resulted in serious injury – but you then left campus without permission, and did not alert us to what had happened!” said the Principal sternly. “We could have lost two students today. It’s only by luck, I think, that we have you both back. There are rules at this school. Both of you know them. They exist for your safety and for that of your classmates. They are not flexible; nor am I.” He drew himself up and looked down his muzzle at both ponies. “Fluttershy, you’re going straight to sickbay to get checked over and I will be by to discuss this later. Rainbow Dash –” he fixed her with a steely gaze, “– my office, now.” He started to walk away, but then after half a dozen steps he seemed to catch himself. With a sudden air of curiosity he turned back and addressed Fluttershy. “All the way from the ground to Cloudsdale? Without stopping?” Fluttershy nodded. “You witnessed this?” he said to Dash, who nodded too. Pale Frost mulled for a moment and then again addressed Fluttershy, though the hard edge in his voice was gone now. “That’s easily worth a perfect ten in your ‘Unbroken Ascent’ classification. That’s an excellent achievement, especially considering how much trouble I know it’s been giving you. It will pull your average up considerably – in fact it should put you on track to qualify with a reasonable grade, come graduation. Well done, Fluttershy,” he said. “But please don’t do it again. Rainbow Dash? Come with me, now.” As he walked away, Rainbow Dash lingered a moment. Under her breath she whispered, “See, what I tell ya? He’s totally got it in for me.” Beside her, the other pony simply looked back sadly. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.” Huh? Dash blinked and shook her head a little. “Hey, uh... Fluttershy, right? We’ll hang sometime, ‘kay?” “We... we will?” “Come along, Rainbow Dash!” called Principal Frost’s voice. Rainbow Dash gave her a warm smile. “Sure we will.”