//------------------------------// // The Hero // Story: The Stormmaster // by BlndDog //------------------------------// “Tuck in your wings between strokes! It’s a hundred times easier that way!” Wintergreen ducked behind his sail, avoiding the one above. The two other colts working with him did likewise. Firefly did not react fast enough, and was flung into the windward side of the next row of sails. The wind shifted. After making the proper adjustments, Wintergreen took a quick glance down. Cloudsdale was flying relatively low. Lakes and rivers passed beneath him, and dry land was covered in a dense canopy of trees. Sail operators always stayed on the leeward side, half-sitting on ledges built into the “mast” of the cloud sails. The vapour canvas was a sight to behold. Even from a few metres away it looked like some kind of silk. Now that he nearly had his nose against it, Wintergreen saw that it was a sheet of fast-moving vapour trapped in a broad circuit. Tiny sparks danced in the hollow space within, adding up to an almost musical buzz. His entire class was learning to work the sails. It had become part of the curriculum as soon as Cloudsdale started moving again some three years earlier. “Wintergreen, make some room for Firefly.” The pinkish filly slammed into the mast, nearly destabilizing the sail. Her brows were furrowed in frustration. Her large wings pumped forcefully, and now she kept her head well within the safe zone. “You’re going to flatten our sail,” Wintergreen muttered. Firefly eased up grudgingly. For the rest of the afternoon there were no more accidents. Plover Wing went up and down the row, offering some advice occasionally. When their lessons ended, Wintergreen climbed onto the dark grey battlement above the sails and looked to the north. Cloudsdale was flying along Equestria’s northern border. It was his favorite part of the circuit by far. The chill arctic wind was refreshing, and there was so much variety on the ground below. Water was plentiful in the form of glassy lakes and narrow streams. The forest was punctuated by expanses of grass or bog. Sometimes he could see bears and caribou, and even the occasional wolf. Further away the treeline ended. An earth pony would have seen nothing but a hazy horizon, but a pegasus with keen eyes could easily make out the brown and yellow tundra. With a bit of squinting, Wintergreen could even see a band of white: ancient arctic ice. “Winter!” Wintergreen jumped up. Firefly was glaring at him. She wore a bright blue cloak with a red collar, fastened with a brooch in the shape of a lightning bolt. “What is it, Firefly?” “What did you mean when you said I would flatten the sail?” “That’s all I meant,” Wintergreen said, standing up and taking a step towards her. “What’s your problem?” “You’re showing off!” She said. “You learned all this from your mom, and then you come to school and pretend you’re the best! That’s not fair!” Before Wintergreen could respond she took off. What’s her problem? Several pegasi were approaching from the south; messengers from Canterlot, judging by their armor. Plover Wing flew out to meet them. Sensing some trouble, Wintergreen retreated from the wall. # “If you could just talk to her…” “I am no longer on good terms with Princess Luna, I’m afraid.” Maybe that was stretching the truth a little. After the incident in Canterlot six years ago, Princess Luna had not been completely absent from Cloudsdale. Once or twice a year she showed up for tea, and she always had some trinket for Wintergreen on his birthday. She was in Cloudsdale shortly after Roseroot was born, and she sent a gift for Sun Ray. But it was painfully clear that such things were done out of courtesy. She and Snowdrop could still share a laugh sometimes, but their conversations were superficial at best. “Snowdrop, I got the word from Princess Celestia’s personal guards,” Plover Wing said. “They’re waiting at the wall. Maybe you should see them at least?” “If Princess Luna knows anything about those missing children, and if she made up her mind to never speak of it to anyone, what more can I do? Her own sister can’t get her to talk.” “I can’t just tell them like that,” Plover Wing said. “I kept them away from your house so far. If you would just come with me and speak with them, maybe they won’t have to come into the city.” Snowdrop sighed. “Winter,” she called into her much-expanded house. “I’m heading out for an hour or two. Keep an eye on your sisters.” Sunshower had come home by the time she returned. The guards had been dispatched rather violently after they tried to tie her up. Royal Guards would do almost anything to get their job done. “What happened, mom?” Wintergreen asked after his sisters were sent to bed. “Kids are going missing from the Canterlot Orphanage,” she said, hugging Wintergreen as if he too might disappear. “They think Princess Luna has something to do with it. Now you know not to go spreading rumors, right?” Wintergreen rolled his eyes. “Good,” Snowdrop said. “So how do you like working the sails? Would you do it for the rest of your life?” “No way,” Wintergreen answered, grimacing. “It’s good scenery, but you don’t really do anything.” Snowdrop chuckled and smoothed Wintergreen’s mane. “You’re a great weatherkeepr for your age. The weather team’s not so bad nowadays. When I was little that was one of the worst jobs. If you didn’t die on the job, earth ponies will kill you as soon as you touched the ground.” Wintergreen felt a chill. Snowdrop’s jaw was clamped tight, and her hazy eyes gazed out the living room window. “But it’s all good now,” she said almost lightheartedly. “Besides, what else is a pure-blooded pegasus supposed to do? Farm?” # The storm was entirely expected. It appeared every year at about the same time, a giant swirling mass of sand on the bottom and a solid black cloud at the top. From a hundred kilometres away the weather team felt its wind. Most were already wearing goggles and scarves full time. “The outposts are evacuated,” the scout said. “We have about five hours before it reaches a major city,” Snowdrop said to everypony she passed. “Get us as high as we can go. There’s going to be a strong downdraft at some point. I need the entire Cloudsdale Reserve out there in five minutes.” Instead of goggles Snowdrop wore a metal-backed blindfold for one hundredth the price. There were some bizarre upsides to being blind. Five hundred weatherkeepers had been deployed since morning. Seven were already missing. Still the desert storm raged on. She spoke to a few of the weather team leaders before launching off the wall between waves of fresh weatherkeepers. Cloudsdale had already risen one kilometre since she first gave the order. Immediately she was caught by a powerful current and pulled down. Nothing could slow her descent; she could only hope to catch an updraft before she hit the ground. She found it after two kilometres, and immediately slammed into another body. The pony above her flailed her limbs, making both of them spin. Snowdrop restrained her, and rested in the current for a moment. After reorienting herself, she launched into an aggressive climb. The blast of grit surprised her. Sand filled her mouth instantly, finding every break in her mask. Her flight suit remained miraculously intact, but she felt every impact on her skin. The feathers were stripped from her wings. She would learn later just how close she had come to the ground. For the moment she found another current and ascended back into the clouds. Her ears had done nothing for her thus far; the howling wind drowned out all the subtleties she could usually depend on. We’ll retreat. Cut our losses. Calling out achieved nothing; there was no sound except the wind. Nor could she feel any currents across her skin from beating wings. The entire Cloudsdale Reserve and every weatherkeeper had simply disappeared. She let go of the other pegasus; it might have been Cumulonimbus, but no one could know for sure with several dozen such collisions that day. Then she was completely alone, with barely a sense of up and down. Snowdrop fought against the wind with all her strength. She was swirling around in a big circle. While a weather team could normally disrupt such a current by flying in the opposite direction, she could barely turn around. The storm quickly sapped her strength, until she had no choice but to tumble through its winds. As she stropped struggling, her wild trajectory began to feel oddly relaxing. She was moving at an incredible speed, yet the path was predictable. After a few laps she realized that it was a slightly oblong loop, about five kilometres in circumference. And somehow she knew that she was near the top of the storm. All at once she knew what to do. The wind still roared, yet there was silence somewhere. Snowdrop sensed the currents as clearly as rivers on the ground. Their size was frightening, but it was only air and water. She reached out with her hooves, trying to stand up in the wispy clouds that surrounded her. It was like trying to hang from cotton strands at first, but she could gather enough to hold her weight. “Everypony, get back to Cloudsdale,” she said. The wind carried her voice now; where a loud bellow would have been drowned out minutes earlier, now her voice was heard. And she could sense the others too, as thousands of ponies fell away from the storm, some with great effort. Snowdrop sailed through the many winds, zigzagging towards the calm eye of the storm. As she moved deeper into the storm its shape was revealed. It was magnificent in its size and complexity, but its elements were familiar. And then all was still. The air was very thin. Snowdrop reached back, thinking to take a piece of cloud. Instead what she felt on her hoof was completely dry. A strand of wind. She tried again. The wind tickled her skin; an aura of dense, breathable air circling her limbs. Snowdrop did it again and again, until she held a globe between her hooves. She breathed from this as she hovered in the oppressive stillness, with cloud walls on every side. It was a tangled mess of wind and clouds; she could reach into any stream and glean information from many leagues away. In one she sensed Cloudsdale, hovering high overhead but not out of harm’s way. The nameless settlement on the ground was starting to feel the first tendrils of the storm. Do something. Anything. She expected the storm to fight her efforts, but it yielded upon the slightest touch. A band of wind several metres wide broke away and struck another, canceling it out. The walls around her wavered and crumbled. The new sensations had distracted Snowdrop form the danger; now, as giant trees of lightning arced across the closing eye, her original mindset returned in part. She had no trouble finding the sky. Directing dry wind as easily as a cloud, she rode the current up through the dying storm. Cloudsdale was directly overhead. She could hardly believe how fast she was going. Her wings were almost bare, yet the air kept her moving. She could have changed directions to land on the crowded battlement, but she didn’t. Her senses were sharper than ever. In that moment she knew the whole sky: the dissipating clouds; sand and pebbles raining down many kilometres below; every single pegasus in Cloudsdale. And she had power over all of it. The thick underside of the city was only a few metres away. Snowdrop did not slow down. She reached out and flicked her wrists, though even that little gesture felt unnecessary. A corridor opened up through all fifty metres of the basement layer, more than wide enough to accommodate her. Fortunately there was nopony in the street above. She shot through the tunnel and turned an impossibly tight corner, finally skidding to a halt in a pile of cloud. Help came within seconds. She was lifted by at least three ponies, and almost immediately found herself lying in a ward with the rest of her weather team. They were all talking and cheering and fighting off nurses, and tired though she was she couldn’t help but smile.