Spectra's mother died many years ago in an accident. Can she fill the void her mother left?
Rainbow Dash died many years ago in an accident. Her daughter, Spectra, never truly knew her, and goes through every day in guilt. She has an even greater obstacle looming, however, because she starts flight school soon. Spectra will have to face her greatest fear: filling her mother's vacancy as the hero of her town with her friend Angelwing at her side. Things start to seem odd the more and more she questions her mother, and she soon realizes she may have bit off more than she can chew.
Spectra alighted onto the cloud which held the cemetery, and walked mechanically to her mother’s grave.
She always came early in the morning, so to avoid the throngs of people obscuring her mother’s resting place.
Cemeteries are supposed to be empty," Spectra thought before arriving at her mother's tomb.
Towering above the grave was a statue of Rainbow Dash, a hoof raised to her breast and wings splayed wide. The statue had its gaze fixed on Spectra, and she likewise returned the stare. Spectra's look was cold, colder than the stone of the effigy itself. Spectra leaned down and dropped roses on the grave. She stared at the statue one last time turning around. Halfway through her turn, she stopped, noticing a dandelion mare approaching the grave. She too dropped roses to the cloud, and then froze when she noticed Spectra staring at her with large, rosy eyes.
“Oh, Spectra," Angelwing said, "I didn't see you there, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Just like her mother, thought Spectra, “No, no, you’re fine, I just didn’t expect to see you here, Angel.”
Angelwing was Fluttershy’s daughter, and it was plain to see. Her shyness, her coat, and even her voice was reminiscent of Fluttershy. Spectra had always identified with Fluttershy, and had wished she could recede into the background as easily as she could. However, being Rainbow Dash’s only daughter, she was always under scrutiny and was never left alone except on her early morning excursions to her mother’s grave.
“What brings you here, Angel?” Spectra asked, “I never ever see you anywhere but school.”
“Well, I just felt horrible seeing all these flowers and not one of them mine!” Angelwing said, “I felt as though I needed to pay my respects, but I never had the chance to.”
“Thank you,” Spectra said, “it’s always nice to see another payment added to the bank.” Angelwing recoiled back and prodded the ground with her front hoof. Spectra noticed this and tried to salvage her feelings.
“Of course,” she said, “none of their deposits were as meaningful as yours, Angel.” Spectra smiled, and Angelwing took notice (Spectra rarely ever smiled).
“Well, Spectra, there is another reason I came out here today,” Angelwing said. “I came here to let you know that you and I start flight training tomorrow.”
“Really?” Spectra moaned, she had been dreading this news. “I already know how to fly just fine, thank you.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Angelwing said, “but you know as well as I do that we all have to do flight training, because it includes a mandatory year of weather control training. Besides, you should do just fine being Rainbow Dash's---"
Spectra glared at Angelwing, as though she had cursed her name.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, Spectra! I didn't mean it that way!" Angelwing stuttered. Spectra eventually broke her gaze, and turned towards the statue.
"I know," Spectra grunted, "It's not your problem, don't worry about it."
Rainbow Dash had accomplished many things in her lifetime, many of which occurred during flight training. One of which was the notorious Sonic Rainboom, which captured the attention of her instructors and headmasters. They payed close attention to her and always selected her as the Cloudsdale Flight School representative in the Great Filly Flight Challenge. A total of ten Equestrian record medals had been awarded in the history of the competition. Rainbow Dash took home seven.
When Rainbow Dash bore Spectra, the Cloudsdale media could not have been more excited. They rambled daily about how Dash’s genes would pass into her daughter, about how Spectra would be taught by the best flyer in Equestria, and especially about what colt was lucky enough to land Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy was invited to the talk shows multiple times, but she refused to appear publicly. Upon Dash’s death, the conversations changed their focus to Spectra, the "heir to Dash's throne." Spectra was too young to tune in to these shows, and perhaps, she thought, it was for the better.
Spectra didn't want to think about her mother right now, especially in front of Angelwing.
“Um, Spectra?” Angelwing muttered. “Are you OK?” Spectra realized that she hadn't spoken for the past few minutes.
“Er, yes,” Spectra said, “I’m just...fine. I just...I don’t...I really---”
“Don’t want to go to flight training tomorrow?” Angelwing said.
“Yeah,” Spectra said, holding her head down, "That sounds about right."
“Well, Spectra,” Angelwing said, “see you tomorrow morning?” Spectra looked at her friend and gave a half-hearted nod.
“I suppose I have no choice,” Spectra said, “I just hope there isn’t a red carpet leading to the front door for me. Goodbye, Angel.” Spectra said as she jumped from the cloud. Angelwing watched her friend slowly descend into the clouds until she vanished.
“Goodbye, Spectra,” Angelwing said before turning around and taking off, disappearing into the fog.
Spectra’s room was simple and had a draft going through it, much like her mind. Also like her mind, the room was her sanctuary; a place she can escape the pressures of being her mother’s replacement. She lay on her bed, shrouded by a heavy silence around her.
The door to her room was gently pushed open. A loud squeal shattered Spectra’s silence like glass.
“Man, I gotta get this door fixed sometime. That hinge is in its death throes for sure!” Spectra’s father stood at the doorway, swinging the door back and forth while examining the hinge. “Hell, maybe I should just go down and get Apple Bloom to fix it.”
Spectra examined her father. She was never sure why her mother chose him as her mate. He was tall, sure, but that wasn’t much to go on considering the rest of him. He turned from his task to see his daughter glaring at him.
“What’s up with you, Speck?” her father said, “You’re looking at me like I killed someone!” Her father’s laugh boomed through the house.
“Speck, why does he always call me that?” Spectra thought. “I’m OK, Dad, just trying to rest.”
“Well those eyes should be closed then, dontcha think?”
“Ha ha,” Spectra said, “I just love a good joke.” Her father laughed.
“Do you always have to act like your mother?” Her father said.
“Do you always have to compare me to her!?” Spectra snapped.
“Whoa, whoa, Speck, I’m just trying to have a conversation with you---”
“For once?” Spectra interrupted. Her father’s expression changed sharply.
“Excuse me, young lady?” Her father grunted, “I thought we raised you better than to talk back to you father!”
“‘I thought WE raised you better’?” Spectra mocked, “As if Mom ever had the time to be with us, prancing about like a damn show pony!”
Spectra didn't have to look at her father to know she had said something horrible, but a large shadow stretching across her floor made it even more apparent.
“Now look here little lady,” her father said, “You can talk back to me all you want, but don’t you DARE talk about your mother that way!”
Spectra leapt off the bed and pressed her snout to her father’s, their eyes just inches from one another.
“I suppose that means I shouldn’t talk about her then.” Spectra said.
“Nonsense, what would make you think that?” her father spat.
“I heard that if you don’t have anything nice to say about someone,” Spectra answered, “you shouldn’t say anything at all.”
Spectra thought she saw a spark of anger in her father’s eyes, like a star shimmering in Luna’s domain, then nothing at all.
+++
“Oh, my head...” Spectra mumbled, grasping her forehead. She lay limp on the cloudy floor, her head lolling about on its pivot. Her eyes would not stay open; her legs would not stay straight. It felt as though the weight of everything she had on her mind was dragging her down to the floor, and it seemed that it would pull her through the cumulus she lied on.
Spectra, using her small amount of strength, grasped at the memories leaving her, and focused on the previous bout of consciousness.
She saw images of her father dancing in front of her eyes, him standing by a door, an argument, being face-to-face with him...
“Nothing,” Spectra thought, “why can’t I remember what happened?” Spectra had always been told she had her mother’s forgetfulness, another name in the ledger of comparisons. She finally garnered the strength to stand up, stretching her wings as she did so. Her head still felt as though it was wrapped in iron bands, but she had been through worse. She needed something to drink.
Spectra went to the top of the ledge (pegasi didn’t need stairs), checking on her father’s disposition. She noticed that he was watching the hoofball game, typical of a Sunday. She saw that the Cloudsdale Thunder were playing the Fillydelphia Fillies again. She always found it amusing that the pegasi teams had their wings tied, very amusing.
Spectra retreated to her room, and stood in front of her window. Across the way from her home was the Rainwater Facility. The reservoir of the facility was full of water from Fillydelphia, its most recent donor. The pool shimmered and scattered sunlight all across Cloudsdale. The water not only looked good, but it tasted good.
Spectra had gone to Fillydelphia once with her parents because her mother was attending a competition. Her mother took home the first place prize, which included a barrel of their reservoir water, which the public generally was forbade to drink. Spectra managed a mouthful when her mother decided that the water should be for all of Cloudsdale, not just her family. The barrel was dry within an hour, but Spectra would never forget the water’s flavor.
Spectra was snapped into reality by a cool breeze caressing her mane. She at first withdrew from the draft, but then embraced it. The wind curled around wings, ruffling her feathers and begging them to join them in the sky. Spectra approached the window, allowing all of the calming air to present itself to her.
“This is my sky, this is my home,” thought Spectra, as she vaulted over the windowsill and into the blue. The reservoir was just a short flight away, but Spectra had enjoyed every second. She glided down to the pool, not making a sound as she alighted onto the cloud.
Spectra paused to take note of the “DANGER KEEP OUT” signs mounted on the fence enclosing the reservoir. Resources necessary for weather (excluding sunlight and clouds) were strictly monitored, and forbidden from personal use. Spectra tread lightly on this rule, almost as softly as she tread on the cloud beneath her. When she reached the water’s edge she had to fight the urge to plunge her head into the water and drain the reservoir dry. She bent her head downward and began to lap up the water.
Spectra’s mind, which had been bound with worry and fear, was finally as clear as the water she drank. She didn’t know whether it was the wind passing by her or the water passing through her, but her worries had faded, her problems washed away. She was at peace once again.
“Just like your mother,” a voice said from behind her.
Spectra jumped back and lost her breath as she scuttled to turn herself around. She was met with a mountain ridge embellished with sinew. The mountain heaved back and forth, causing a tide of air to wash over her mane. Spectra was breathing just as heavily, albeit more strenuously than the stallion standing before her. She craned her neck to meet her objector’s eye.
The stallion’s eyes seemed to swallow Spectra, and she felt as though she was falling through his pupils, careening through a ring of gray. The reflections of light in the water flickered back off of his eyes, blinding Spectra and bringing her back to reality.
“What’s wrong?” the stallion cooed, “why are you covering your face like that?” Spectra noticed a hint of disappointment in his voice, a voice whose words seem to float on a river of breath.
“Nothing,” Spectra said, “I just --- looked at the sun, that’s all.”
“You’re looking west, Spectra,” the stallion laughed. “I’m pretty sure Celestia doesn’t have it over there this early.”
“Damn,” Spectra thought. She wanted to change the topic, though she wasn't sure why. “I suppose I should know the name of the pony who gets me in trouble,” Spectra said “My name is---”
“I already know your name, Spectra.” the stallion said, “Everyone does.”
“Don’t remind me,” Spectra mumbled. She glared at the stallion, who didn’t seem to take notice.
The stallion said, “My name isn’t as...um...colorful as yours.”
“Har har.”
“My name is Cortland,” the stallion said, “not as fancy as my friends’ names, I’ll reckon, but a name I’m proud of.”
Spectra reflected on his name. “‘Cortland’?” That’s a peculiar name for a pony, especially a pegasus.” Of course, in her position, she was more concerned with whether she’d be standing in Celestia’s court in the next few moments than her captor’s name.
“Nice to meet you...Cortland,” Spectra said, “ I suppose you’re wondering if I’ll go quietly.”
“What on earth are you talking about, Spectra?” Cortland said, his breath chopped into pieces by laughing breaths, “Who ever said you were in trouble?”
Spectra was taken aback, “I assumed that the reservoir water was off-limits, seeing as you have a fence around it and---”
“If you knew it was ‘off-limits’,” Cortland said, “then why did you come here? There’s a public fountain just down the street.”
Spectra broke eye contact and mumbled, “This water’s better.”
Cortland broke into raucous laughter, nearly losing his balance. Spectra glared at him again, but Cortland’s eyes were shut tight with mirth.
“My aunt always told me,” Cortland started, nearly choking on his own laughter, “There ain’t no better place to get food than right under your nose.”
Spectra could not grasp this pony; he was wise and yet so folk. She couldn’t put her hoof on it.
“I suppose you’d better go, Spectra,” Cortland said, “wouldn’t want ya getting in trouble now, would we?” Cortland attempted his best wink, which looked more like he was trying to fit his entire face into his eye socket.
“No, we wouldn’t,” Spectra said, still not believing her luck, “Goodbye!” Spectra took off towards her house, reluctant to leave the stallion alone by the water, watching as she disappeared into the clouds.
Spectra could only hope that his memory of her wouldn’t do the same.
As much as Rainbow Dash wanted to perform in the air show, something inside her was telling her different----and kicking.
Rainbow Dash was the lead solo of the Wonderbolts, which meant she didn’t fly with the four team pegasi. She flew somewhat alone, and her job was to impress the crowd while the team regrouped into formation for the next stunt. She preferred to have all eyes on her (and to a lesser degree her friend Spitfire, who was the opposing solo) anyway.
She would normally be practicing the most out of the team, but this season she was reserved to the bleachers and was the emergency replacement for the understudy of her current substitute. Rainbow Dash felt like Lyra; she wanted to be supported by the air under her wings, not some “crummy bench”. While Rainbow Dash groaned, Spitfire landed beside her.
“What are you doing here?” Rainbow Dash chuckled, “Is practice over already?”
“No, my partner sprained his wing, so he’s out today,” Spitfire said, “Now I’ve got the day off!”
Rainbow Dash laughed, “He can’t practice because he sprained that? I’ve sprained my neck and I still did my Fantastic Filly Trot.” As Rainbow Dash finished, something started to protrude from her abdomen. If it wasn’t flat, it probably would have gone right through her.
“He really wants to get out of there, doesn’t he?” Spitfire said, acknowledging the distension. Rainbow Dash laughed, looking down at her stomach.
“He? Ha!” Rainbow Dash said, “I think I would go crazy if it was a colt.” She wanted a daughter that was her dead ringer, one that, as she would often put it, was “as awesome as her”.
Her husband, Hailstone, wanted a nice strong hoofball star. Either way, Rainbow and Hailstone wanted the absolute best prenatal care for their daughter, even if it meant Rainbow putting her life on hold for a while. Even so, Rainbow Dash needed a helping hoof to perform her menial tasks while she exercised basic survival for her baby’s own.
Rainbow Dash had chosen Fluttershy as her midwife, and her job was to do just that. She was always glad to help her friend, who she found was much like taking care of any other animal. She needed help with grooming, gathering food, and even entertainment (it was too much to go to Twilight’s hut to get the latest Daring Do). She was almost always there.
This time, however; Fluttershy was taking Angel shopping for a collar. Rainbow was happy for her. She felt that she was stealing her friend’s time and effort away from her, and Fluttershy deserved a vacation.
“It’s a vicious cycle," Rainbow thought, “I take care of the baby, she takes care of me, which lets me take care of the baby, and so on. And when she’s not watching one animal, she’s watching the other. She really needs a vacation.”
Lost in thought, Rainbow Dash didn’t notice Spitfire was talking to her until an orange hoof rapped her on the shoulder.
“Hello, hello, Earth to Rainbow Dash, do you copy?” Spitfire laughed.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow said, “I was just thinking of the baby is all.”
“Speaking of which,” Spitfire started, “have you got a name for him yet?”
“Dunno,” Rainbow Dash said, “although Hailstone wants him to be named ‘Buffy Puffy’” Spitfire nearly lost it, her voice cracking with every laugh.
“Really?” Spitfire said incredulously, “what kind of name is that?”
“I know, not cool at all,” Rainbow Dash said, “that sounds like something Fluttershy would name a sheep.”
Rainbow Dash laughed half-heartedly; now wasn’t the best time to mock Fluttershy. When this thought popped into her head, another object popped into existence.
A scroll had materialized out of the air and landed in her lap. She looked at the document’s seal. It was the Royal Equestrian Seal, altered slightly, an emblazoned star surrounded by smaller points of light under the Celestial sun. Rainbow knew that seal anywhere.
“It’s from Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, “why does she always have to send me letters? Is it so difficult to talk to me in person?”
“Oh give her a break,” Spitfire said, waving off her friend’s comment, “you of all people should know she’s busy.”
“Oh please, I’m just as busy as she is, did you see our flight schedule this season?”
“First off, you can’t even fly,” Spitfire said, causing Rainbow Dash to pout, “and second, you aren’t the princesses’ personal advisor.”
“Well at least I work out.” Rainbow Dash was grasping at hay straws at this point. Spitfire rolled her eyes. Spitfire picked up the scroll with her mouth and pulled on the ribbon with her teeth, causing the roll of paper to unfurl. Spitfire scrutinized the script, lifting an eyebrow as she did so.
“Here, let me see.” Rainbow Dash said. As she reached for the scroll, it began to move. It floated deliberately over to Rainbow Dash’s face, hovering a few feet in front of her eyes.
The magical aura surrounding the scroll was wispy lavender, sparkling and glossy like the night sky in which Twilight engrossed herself. The scroll did have ink on it, however. Rainbow Dash turned to her friend.
“I think you may have your goggles on too tight,” she said, “There are definitely words on this.”
“Oh yeah, Rainbow,” Spitfire said, “then what does it say?” Rainbow Dash cleared her throat and prepared to read, but was interrupted by a familiar voice whispering into her ear.
Rainbow, I wanted to make this message private, so I cast a spell so that only you can hear or see it. I need to talk to you in Canterlot immediately. Something has come up. I don’t have the time nor the space to tell you in this correspondence. Please come to my office in the Canterlot Palace West Wing, Room 101. Yours truly, Twilight Sparkle
Rainbow Dash stared at the message again, reading it over and over.
“That’s weird; Twilight never needs my help with anything! Why does she need me, especially when I’m not at my best?”
Spitfire looked at Rainbow Dash, “I bet you’re making that up. There was nothing on that paper, and I’m sure of it.”
“I’m serious Spitfire,” Rainbow Dash said, “Twilight really needs me for something!”
“I’m sure,” Spitfire rolled her eyes, “I guess you’ll be leaving to ‘help her’ now?”
“Yes, I should,” said Rainbow, “Good luck with tomorrow’s air show Spitfire!” Rainbow Dash said, turning around and opening her wings. She pushed off the ground hard and flapped her wings, but she hardly went ten feet of the ground.
“Damn this extra weight,” Rainbow thought as she climbed into the sky like a slug climbs up a wall. Rainbow Dash always felt as though her pregnancy was a double edged sword; she was going to be a mother, and yet it hindered the thing she loved most. She just hoped that she didn’t gain ten pounds afterwards.
She began making her way to Canterlot, which was only a few miles away. In her prime, Rainbow Dash could have made it in no time. Now, however, she had to settle for a measly 10 knots, which would mean she would be there in about fifteen minutes.
“I wonder why Twilight needs me,” Rainbow Dash thought, “what can a pregnant pegasus do?” It wasn’t long until Rainbow had begun to feel thirsty. “Seriously? I can’t fly more than a mile without needing something to drink? Hey kiddo, if you can hear me, you better be worth all this trouble.” Rainbow joked.
She searched the clouds, scanning for just a slight glimmer off of a pool of rainwater. Up ahead, she noticed the recent cloud formed from Fillydelphia’s water reservoir. It was about an hour until it would be converted back into rain for use in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash suddenly had an idea.
“I’m sure one little sip can’t hurt,” Rainbow thought, and she climbed high in the air above the cloud, fighting gravity and her child.
“Buckle up, pipsqueak, you’re about to get a sense of real speed.” Suddenly, Rainbow Dash accelerated towards the cloud, gaining just enough speed to keep her child safe, while still exhilarating her. She felt herself again, and she was sure that her child was getting the ride of her life. When she reached the edge of the cloud, she hung her mouth open.
As she pierced through the cloud, stray water droplets shot onto her awaiting tongue, cascading through her taste buds and drenching her throat. The miniature monsoon not only wet her parched throat, but her mane and coat as well. Rainbow relished every spot of cool liquid as it splashed on her sides and streaked down her coat. It felt as though she were cutting through water, cleaving the air into two distinct halves before they collided back behind her.
When she reached the edge of the cloud, she took some of it with her. Pulling up to level herself, she left a fluffy contrail behind her, complementing the rainbow tailing her. It felt like she was on the Wonderbolts again, after months of being held to earth by the anchor in her womb, she had felt truly happy for the first time in those long weeks.
Rainbow realized that she was travelling at 35 knots, the fastest she had gone that season, and was able to reach Canterlot in less than 10 minutes.
As Rainbow Dash approached the landing pad, she noticed three shadowy figures awaiting her. As she landed on the stony outcropping, the center pony approached her. It was followed by an aura of darkness billowing from her cloak.
