Soarin' goes on a quest to defeat the forces of evil along with his best friend Spitfire.
Soarin' is just your average pegasus. He lives in Cloudsdale with his grandpa and his best friend Spitfire, aspires to be a member of the esteemed flight group the Wonderbolts, and he loves pie. But all that is about to change, as a mysterious voice calls out to him to warn him of his "destiny." Whatever could that mean? Like it or not, he and his friends are going to find out.
"Holding up all right back there, sport?" the dark blue pegasus stallion called over his shoulder, his voice barely audible above the high-speed winds.
"Yeah, Dad!" his son shouted back. "I'm fine!"
"It is your first flying lesson," the aqua-colored mare added. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes, Mom!" came the response from the young colt.
The family of flying ponies was currently zooming through the skies above Equestria. Avia, Caelus, and their 6-year-old son Soarin' were on a group flight for the first time. Soarin's parents, both members of the Wonderbolts, had taken the day off from practice to allow their son to begin his flight training. He was extremely grateful for the opportunity to use his wings for real (he didn't consider all those exercises at school to be true flying).
Soarin' looked down at the ground far below, beyond the clouds. He knew about the earth and unicorn ponies who lived on the ground, having learned about them in history, but he'd never left Cloudsdale and didn't know much about them. From the stories some of the other fillies told about the land below, it sounded like a wonderfully fantastic place. He sometimes wished he could be like Fleetfoot, whose father took her on trips to the surface all the time. But then he'd remind himself that nopony he knew had two awesome parents who were both Wonderbolts.
Throughout the trip, Avia served as the mentor to her son, monitoring his progress as he adjusted his speed and altitude. He wanted to protest, saying that he knew all that from school already, but her patience with him made him want to keep his mouth closed.
"When you're older, you'll learn how to clear the clouds around you with your pegasus magic," she told him. "But right now let's focus on banking."
She took him step-by step through the process of learning to fly--fully utilizing his wing power, gliding on air currents, maintaining stability. He listened attentively and followed her instructions to the letter. After another half hour of learning the ropes, she decided to let him off the hook and practice on his own.
"YIPPEE!" he shouted as he zoomed across the sky, looping, swerving, diving, then coming back up to do it all again. He'd never felt so free in his life--it was just him and the atmosphere, and not even gravity could hold him back.
Caelus chuckled as he watched Soarin' glide around. "All right, it's starting to get dark. I think it's about time we head back to..."
He didn't get to finish the sentence, for his ears had suddenly perked up. That only happened when his natural flight instincts alerted him to a change in wind velocity, air pressure, or some other technical term that was too complicated for Soarin' to understand no matter how many times it was explained to him. Most of the time these changes were minor and insignificant, but this one felt more potent than normal. He turned to his wife, who was feeling the same thing.
They turned back to their blissfully unaware son, who was still swerving around and having the time of his life. When he noticed his parent's concerned looks, he slowed down to a stop in front of them and said, "What? Did I do something wrong?"
There was a brief silence, which Caelus broke. "No, son, you were fine. It's just...we have to go home. Now."
"But why? came the response. "It feels like we've just started!"
"I know, but..." He faltered, not quite sure how to explain the situation. "It doesn't matter. Flight time's over."
Soarin' began to protest rather loudly, but he stopped short when he noticed the sky grow dark. "Wh-what's going on?" he stammered.
His parents did not respond. They were too busy watching the horizon. Something was coming, something not very far away, something large and dark and ominous...
They were whispering something to each other. He flew a little closer to try and make it out. It was a bit hard to hear over the winds, but he caught brief glimpses of their conversation.
"...might be them..." Avia said. "...are they coming after..."
"No, they haven't been around..." came her husband's response. "...quite some time...never come out in the open like this..."
The next part was too quiet for him to listen in on. And then...
His mother shrieked as something appeared in the distance.
And suddenly, before he could ask what it meant, Soarin' was knocked backwards by a large force. Avia had just tackled him, sending him flailing in the opposite direction. He tumbled head over hooves before he finally managed to regain his balance. But when he righted himself and looked back to see what had happened, he was met with a horrific sight.
A black tornado had materialized right near where he had been only a moment before. The dark cyclone stretched from the ground far below to high up above. It twisted rapidly, drawing in everything it came close to into its billowing core. There was no possible way to fly over or under the imposing whirlwind. They would have to make a run for it.
Soarin' heard his name being called. He turned to see his father extending a hoof out to him. "Grab on!" he cried desperately, attempting to rescue his son from the eminent tornado.
Terrified, he tried to do as he was told. He extended his arm, reaching out to the loving embrace of his father. He inched closer, closer, closer still...
And then a huge storm cloud knocked Caelus aside, far out of Soarin's reach. The colt shrieked as he watched his father tumble into the dark funnel cloud, embraced by the high-speed winds.
"DAD!" he screamed as the pegasus struggled to escape the funnel of death. His efforts were all in vain, however: there was no way for a pony to escape something of such force.
His mother had seen the tragedy too. She yelled in anger and proceeded to fly near the advancing storm cloud.
The young foal called out to his mother. "Mom! Please don't go!"
She turned around, just in time to get one last look at her son. She shouted something he could't hear. Then she turned around and disappeared right into to center of the cyclone, determined to try and rescue her trapped husband.
And just like that, he was alone.
Soarin' stared into the dark, swirling mass that now contained both of his parents--parents he would never see again. He was so traumatized at how sudden the event had occurred that he couldn't move. He just sat there, suspended in space, his wings flapping in a subconscious effort to keep him afloat in the air. He had no idea what to do.
Then he noticed the funnel cloud moving towards him, which snapped him out of his shock and reminded him that he had to move.
He turned around and flew, flew faster than he ever had in his life and hoped he wouldn't ever have to fly again, trying to escape the dark cloud that had taken away the only two ponies he'd ever truly loved, the ones he'd loved more than life itself and couldn't even imagine going on without.
The tornado was almost upon him. He screamed.
-----
Still screaming, Soarin' bolted upright in his bed. He was panting heavily, beads of sweat dripping off his forehead and onto his lightning bolt-patterned bedspread. It wasn't real, he told himself. It was another dream.
But it was real--at least, it had been at one time. He was remembering the day his parents died, so many years ago. He'd been having the same flashback every night for the past month. The nightmares were long past the point of merely bothering him and had gotten so bad that he was afraid to go to bed every night. He'd tried all of his grandmother's tricks--sleeping facing the other direction, turning his pillow over to the cold side, drinking warm milk right before bed--but nothing had helped to get rid of the terrible scene that plagued his sleep.
He flopped down on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling decorated with plastic adhesive stars. There'd be no point in trying to go back to sleep now, considering it would only return him to the dreadful nightmare. Instead he simply stared up at his ceiling, focusing on his present tasks to shake away the horrid memories that still lingered in his subconscious.
He started off with the date. Thinking back to the day before, he remembered that today was a Tuesday. He racked his half-asleep brain trying to remember what day it was. It took him a while to find, but soon he remembered that today was October 25. Hmm. Why did that date sound so familiar? There had to be a reason...
Suddenly recognition hit him like a snowball hurled directly at his face on a cold winter day. Today was his birthday! His face lit up as he realized what this meant. Now that he was thirteen years old, he could finally take his flight test and get certified as a Junior Flyer. He'd still be in flight school for the rest of the school year, but come June he could advance to an intermediate flight academy. Then it would only be a few short years before he could move on to pursue other goals if he wanted to, or he could continue to study at the advanced upper-level flight school. After that it was just a hop, skip, and jump to become a member of Cloudsdale's elite group of fliers: the Wonderbolts!
Soarin' couldn't help but grin. He knew exactly how he wanted his future to play out, and it was only a matter of putting it into action. It felt good to know with utmost certainty what he wanted to do. Unlike Spitfire, he had a clear goal in mind and didn't have to spend a lot of time dwelling on important life choices like what sort of job he wanted or what schools he wanted to go to.
Ahh, Spitfire. He smiled wider at the thought of his best friend, whom he'd known since he was just a newborn. She was the only one who really understood him, who could read him like a book and feel empathetic with him. He didn't really feel the same way about her, though; when he tried to see what she was feeling, he kept getting distracted by her crimson mane. It was so brightly colored, so perfectly shaped, so...
Soarin' had to physically shake his head to get himself to stop thinking about Spitfire's mane. He could feel his cheeks start to blush, even though he knew no one had been reading his thoughts. He'd have to avoid doing that when he talked to her in person.
He looked at the alarm clock, which read 4:13 AM. He wasn't tired, and he certainly didn't want to risk having another nightmare, but school was still three hours away. He couldn't think of anything better to do, so he closed his eyes and just rested in bed. He didn't remember falling asleep again, but he must have, because when he opened his eyes again the clock said 6:12 AM. Just then, he heard a voice calling from downstairs.
"Wakey-wakey, sonny boy!" Soarin's grandfather yelled. "Don't wanna miss school, now do yeh?"
Soarin' groaned loudly. His grandpa was always saying stupid things like that. No, he didn't want to miss school, so why would he say so otherwise? Spitfire had noticed his animosity towards his father's father, who was now his caretaker full-time, and had let him know in no uncertain terms that he should be more appreciative. Still, while he may have enjoyed his grandpa's tasty breakfasts, Soarin' couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed whenever he was nearby.
He trotted downstairs. As per usual, he sat down to a meal of scrambled eggs and toast while his grandfather told him a story about when he was just a colt. Soarin' typically found these stories to be mildly entertaining, but today's story was about growing carrots on his family's farm. Boring! he thought as he tried his best to tune out the tale.
Thankfully, Soarin' managed to sit through breakfast without being bored to death. He picked up his saddlebag filled with school supplies and waved goodbye to his grandpa.
"Have a good day at school, buckaroo!" his grandfather shouted, using one of his typical phrases that Soarin' disproved of.
Rolling his eyes, he trotted down the path constructed out of clouds to start his day. A day that, unbeknownst to him, may be considered one of the most important of his life.
On his way to school, Soarin' passed by Spitfire's house. He stopped and waited for her to come outside and walk with him like they always did. It took her a little longer than usual to prepare, which made him start to worry, but he calmed down when she stepped outside. He instantly remembered thinking about her mane last night, and it made him feel ten times as awkward.
"Sup," she greeted him in the usual manner as she stepped into the street. She had a slight spring in her step, making her saddlebags shake up and down as she walked. They looked to be in danger of spilling over, but she was lithe enough to balance them with little effort.
They walked in silence for a few moments, the crisp autumn breeze blowing their manes back. Then, looking Soarin' over, Spitfire said, "You look terrible," referring to the bags under his eyes and his disheveled hair. "Have you been awake all night?"
Soarin' muttered, "Haven't got much sleep lately. Long story."
"That's no way to start off your birthday!" she said cheerfully, in an attempt to perk up her friend's spirits. "You're a teenager now! You should be happy!"
The sleepy colt shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I should be happy. I'm just a bit out of it right now."
"Well, wake up, then!" she reprimanded him as she rapped on his skull with her hoof.
"Ow!" Soarin' yelped, regaining his senses and rubbing the dull ache on his cranium.
Spitfire smiled playfully at him. "Did it work?"
"The only work you did was being a bigger pain than usual."
"Oh, hang on. I think I hear the phone ringing." She put a hoof up to her ear to pantomime a telephone and pretended to talk into it. She lowered her hoof and said to Soarin', "It's the National Can't-Take-A-Joke Society; they want to give you a lifetime achievement award for being the grumpiest pegasus this side of Canterlot."
He smiled, playing along. "Then maybe you should tell them that you're the better candidate. After all, it'll be the only award you ever get for anything. Besides the Overachiever's Award from the Annoying Association of Equestria."
"Way to steal my joke, egghead!"
"I didn't steal it, I improved it. Just like I have to improve everything that comes out of your highly intellectual mouth."
"Flattery will get you nowhere."
"Sarcasm ain't gonna do a fat lot of good, either."
She laughed. "All right, I've had enough. Let's just get to class before we run into--" She was interrupted by the very ponies she was about to mention.
"Well, well, well," came a voice from behind them. They turned around to see three male ponies with sports-related Cutie Marks jeering at them. The leader of the group called out, "If it isn't Mr. Bad-at-Flying and his girlfriend...um...let's see...ah-hah! Stupidfire!" He and his buddies laughed at the cleverness of their friend as if he'd just given the punch line to the world's funniest knock-knock joke.
Soarin' rolled his eyes at the three jocks. Hoops, Quarterback, and Dumbbell were the local bullies of Cloudsdale. They intimidated anyone and everyone who happened to get in their way, though their main target was the meek and susceptible Fluttershy. Nobody really took them seriously, but they were still annoying nontheless.
"Seriously," he responded with an irritable tone, "if you're gonna pick on somepony, at least be more creative. 'Mr. Bad-at-Flying?' That the best you can do?"
Quarterback and Dumbbell shouted began shouting indiscernible phrases that were intended as a challenge for their leader to show Soarin' who was boss, but just make them look stupider--if that were possible. Hoops decided to express his dissatisfaction by taking a step towards Spitfire and Soarin'. "You wanna say that to my face?" he snarled angrily.
Soarin' took a step to confront him, but Spitfire held him back. "Let it go," she coaxed him. "It's not their fault that they're too dense to come up with any better insults."
She was right. It was better to keep his dignity and walk away than cause a problem that could have been easily avoided. They turned around, ignoring the jocks' insults, and went on their way to school.
----
Soarin's thirteenth birthday started off as just an average day for him. With the exception of constant appraisals from his classmates commending him on reaching the thirteenth year of his life, the day was perfectly ordinary in every way.
Each day was basically the same for him: going to class, sleeping in class, daydreaming in class, doodling in class, passing notes in class, getting scolded for not paying attention in class--the usual stuff. But today, on the most special of days in a pegasus's life, he wasn't daydreaming about the normal topics of being a Wonderbolt or eating pie, his favorite food. This time the daydream seemed to be out of his control, which was strange for him.
The dream itself was very bizarre. Soarin' could feel himself floating along aimlessly in a dark void, as if he were flying but without flapping his wings. In fact, he didn't really have to do much moving around at all. He just floated lazily on by, staring out into the blank space and wondering why the daydream felt so real--or if it really was a dream after all.
"This doesn't make sense," he said to himself. "If this isn't a dream, how did I get here from being in math class?"
Then the strangest thing of all happened. A voice called out to him from the void, speaking a language that he didn't recognize yet could somehow understand. He wasn't hearing the voice with his ears, either--he was hearing it with his mind.
Simply because something does not make sense to you does not mean it makes sense to no one.
Soarin' turned to look at the anonymous voice, but he saw nothing but darkness. Very confused and beginning to get scared, he called out, "What...how did...who are you?"
You will know the answers soon enough. I have brought you here to warn you of the impending danger ahead of you.
"Brought me where? What danger? What am I doing here?"
Patience, young foal. You are destined to become a hero someday, but you must wait until you are ready to accept it.
"I am? But how can I be a hero? I'm just a colt."
As I said, the answers will be revealed in due time. You must remember this: patience is its own reward.
"I still don't understand! Why are you telling me all this?"
The voice paused, as if communicating silently with someone--or something--else. Then it answered with great urgency.
There is no time. Seek not the answers, but the questions instead.
Soarin' was about to ask more questions, but he didn't get the chance. He was distracted by the blinding light that had just hit his eyes. He caught a glimpse of a large silver figure, glowing brightly in the darkness. He couldn't quite tell what it was, but he guessed it was what was talking to him.
May we meet again, brave one.
The figure spread two giant silver wings as the light grew brighter. It wrapped them around itself and then everything was gone.
Suddenly Soarin' was back in his desk. He was vaguely aware that the teacher had asked him a question. He tried not to make it obvious that he didn't know the answer, but he had always been a terrible actor.
"Perhaps you would know the answer if you paid attention, Mr. Soarin'," the teacher said sternly as the rest of the class giggled.
Soarin' sheepishly avoided the glances he was getting from the other students as he thought about exactly what had just happened. A great hero, he echoed, staring at his doodle-filled notebook that was laying in front of him. Could that mean...?
He stared intently at the latest doodle he'd drawn, one of him standing on a victory platform in a Wonderbolts uniform, wearing a first-place medal and linking arms with an identically-dressed Spitfire, their faces beaming with pride and honor. This was where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do.
He was certain of that.
----
After his last class of the day, Meteorology, he met up with Spitfire outside the front doors of the school. "So how was your big day?" she asked cheerfully as they trotted out the doors of the school along with all the other pegasi foals.
Soarin' shrugged as he adjusted the saddlebags carrying his schoolbooks. "Meh. It was mostly the same as any other day, really."
His friend grinned. "Well, I think I know something that can make your day just a little bit better than usual."
"Really? What is it?" Soarin' asked, his interests piqued.
"I'm not telling you," she replied adamantly. "But I can show you. Meet me at the entrance to the park at 4 PM sharp."
He glanced over his shoulder at the big clock hanging up over the school. "But it's already 3:30."
"Then you better get going," she said with a grin just before taking off down the road, leaving a confused Soarin' to watch her as she headed home. Then he realized his house was in that direction too.
Well, if she wants me to hurry, I'll play her game, he thought as he galloped home to get his skateboard. That'll show her who was in charge!
Soarin's grandpa greeted the tired pegasus colt as soon as he walked in the door. "Why hello there, young whippersnapper!" he cried jubilantly as his grandson deposited his satchel. "What'cha been up to lately?"
Soarin' returned the greeting with a grin. "I'm going out to the park with Spitfire, and I just came back to get somethi--"
"What's that, you say?" his grandfather shouted, a bit hard of hearing. "You have a date with that young marefriend of yours, do ya?"
Soarin' blushed. "She's NOT my marefriend! She's just...a friend."
His grandpa chuckled. "If you say so. Why, I remember when I met your grandmother--it was at a school dance, you see, and she was wearing the nicest saddle I'd ever laid eyes on..."
Soarin' hurried to leave before he could get dragged into another conversation about his grandpa's boring past. As he galloped upstairs to his bedroom, he thought about what his grandfather had just said. It made him think more about his relationship with Spitfire.
The two of them had first met when they were still just infants. Their parents, who were all Wonderbolts, had been close friends. They lived on the same block, so they brought their kids over whenever they needed somepony to babysit. Soarin' and Spitfire found out that they had much in common, and they soon became fast friends.
Then, when his parents had that accident, Soarin' was so distraught that he refused to come out of his room. He suffered from a week-long depression, and it took Spitfire to coax him out of it. She was the only pony he could trust, the only one he felt secure around, the only one who made him feel...happy.
Soarin' looked around. He'd been so lost in thought that he'd forgotten what he was doing. It took him about ten seconds to remember that he'd come for his skateboard. Quickly he grabbed it, sprinted down the stairs, and rushed out the door in the direction of the park.
Soarin's legs were starting to chafe from all the pedaling he had to do to get to the park on time. Why can't these things be motorized? he griped as he shifted the weight on his skateboard, leaning into the turn. He wasn't even halfway there, but he was so tired already he knew he wouldn't be able to make it the rest of the way without stopping for a break.
Then he remembered that he had wings. Why didn't he think of that sooner? He unfurled the pair of feathered appendages at his sides and gripped the board with all four hooves. The wind that had been built up by his momentum was quickly caught in his wings and propelled him forward, requiring little effort on his part.
Being a pegasus rocks, he though as he mentally relaxed and enjoyed the ride.
He landed in front of the plaza's central fountain, which Spitfire was leaning against. "I'm impressed," she said casually. "It's only 3:58. I said 4 PM sharp."
"Doesn't sharp mean 'two minutes early'?" Soarin's grinned, picking up his skateboard and holding it under his arm.
She looked at him once before turning away, indicating him to follow. "I should have gotten you a dictionary instead, because that word clearly does not mean what you think it means."
"So I didn't get a dictionary for my birthday?" he complained, feigning concern. "Man, I've been looking forward to that for ages!"
"I'll say. You sure could have used one on that last vocabulary test."
"I already told you, I was sick! I ate a bad case of hayseed casserole at lunch that day. It must have damaged my memory or something."
"You forgot how to spell 'cloud'."
Soarin' groaned, unable to believe that they were really having this discussion. "Never mind that; back to the matter at hoof. Where is this so-called 'surprise'?"
"You'll find out soon enough," she said as she passed by an old mare resting on a nearby bench, tossing hooffulls of seeds onto the ground for the birds to devour hungrily.
"But the suspense is killing me! Can you at least tell me where we're going?"
"I don't need to."
"And why not? I'm your best friend, and it's my birthday. I have a right to know what I'm getting for said birthday!"
"I mean I don't need to tell you because we're already here."
Soarin' looked up. He hadn't even noticed they'd stopped. They were standing in front of a small cavernous entrance, one that looked strangely familiar to him. He stared at it, racking his brain and trying to make it out when, out of the blue, it hit him.
He knew this place. He hadn't been inside this cave in a long time, not since before his parents died. He was barely four years old, at that age where young ones want to explore everything around them. This cave was no exception; running off from his grandparents, who were had taken him to the park that day in his parents' absence, he found the entrance to the cavern and decided to go spelunking.
It turns out that the cave was really a tunnel. It was very long to the little tyke, but he was too curious to notice its length. He crawled and crawled as far as his little legs could take him.
Finally he emerged in a strange-looking room, covered with ornate carvings. The walls were mostly gray, but there were patches of diamond-like crystal embedded in them. The ceiling was too high for him to even see, or perhaps there was no ceiling. Near the top of the walls, just above the heights of the carvings, the rock face simply stopped, becoming hidden behind the pool of light shining through the opening where the ceiling should be. Some of the light was bouncing of the crystals in the walls, but most of it was focused on the dais in the middle of the room.
As he stared around in shocked awe, he took a closer look at the carvings. There were hideous, gruesome creatures: monsters of all shapes and sizes, with huge fangs and multiple, writing appendages. It scared him out of his wits. He began to wail and cry as he tried to hide from the monsters, but to no avail.
Then he noticed the atmosphere gradually starting to change. Subtly, but somehow not too subtle for his small ears to notice it, he heard the faintest whisper of wind brushing past, like the faint touch of a mother cradling her child. It seemed relaxing to him and calmed him down. After a while he was totally pacified, blissful innocence evident on his face.
"Soarin'?" came a voice from the cave entrance. "What are you doing in here, kiddo?"
The colt turned to see his grandfather, doubled over in an effort to fit into the tiny tunnel. "Grandpa!" he cried with delight as he galloped over to his patriarch, all thoughts of carnivorous monsters forgotten. He scurried out of the tunnel after his grandpa, failing to notice the figure wrapped in soft, warm light that had emerged from nowhere, smiling as it watched over him from afar.
The voice of his friend returned him to the present. "You all right?" Spitfire asked with concern.
He blinked a few times and stared at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just..." He broke off for a moment before continuing. "...flashbacks. But it's all good now. No big deal."
With a shrug she accepted this explanation without further questioning. "Now before we go in here," Spitfire continued, gazing at the entrance to the cave, "I'm going to tell you in advance: Happy birthday, Soarin'."
He smiled. "Thanks so much, Spitfire. I really appreciate this...whatever it is you're about to give me."
"Don't mention it." She then stepped aside and pointed at the cave opening, saying, "Birthday boy goes first!"
"You just want to go after me because you need a big strong stallion like me to protect you," he snickered at his friend as he got on his knees and crawled inside the opening, unsure of what he would find but excited irregardless.
Yet for all of his eagerness, there was nothing, absolutely nothing in Equestria that could have prepared him for what was in store.
----
Soarin' didn't remember anything about the cave. He spent the first two minutes trying to recall details about his experiences so many years ago, but nothing came to mind. Instead he tried to wonder how his friend had found the cave and why she'd decided to put his gift in such an obscure location. He didn't even have the faintest idea what the item could be.
The sides of the tunnel were dimly illuminated from the outside, as if a flashlight was being aimed at them. They provided just enough light for him to see where he was going, but not enough to get a good look at his surroundings. There seemed to be some light coming from far at the end of the tunnel, but no matter how far along he crawled the light didn't seem to get any closer. He pressed on, determined to find out what the secret was.
Soon the light appeared to brighten. Excitedly, he quickened his speed and scrambled through the tunnel, his mind and heart both racing faster than the lead Wonderbolt had flown at their most recent competition. Anticipation and adrenaline fueling his legs, he crawled and crawled and crawled until he finally realized he'd reached the end of the tunnel.
Then he stopped, dragging his hooves into the hard stone floor to prevent his momentum from flinging him into the crystal wall. Turning around, he gazed up at the massive ceiling and took in his surroundings.
The cavern hadn't changed at all since he was last there; not even dust had accumulated in his absence. Still, the area seemed very unfamiliar to him, simply because the experience had been mostly forgotten by his young mind, but it was not at all unwelcoming. It had the same sense of protection that he'd come to associate with the memory, like there was nothing at all in the world that could possibly do him harm.
The pegasus trotted over to inspect the dais. It was very basic, appearing to be a simple block of stone carved into a tabletop shape. It had almost no decorations on it whatsoever. He imagined it would be fitting for someone who wanted a job to be done quickly, without worrying over minor details.
As he pondered what the pedestal and the rest of the room could be for, as well as where his gift was, he felt his mane being blown a little by a gentle breeze. That's odd, he thought as he looked around the room for a potential source of the breeze. How could there be wind in an underground cavern like this one? He shrugged, thinking it was just his imagination.
But the wind grew stronger and blew faster and became louder. In almost no time at all it had moved from a light breeze to a strong gust and then to a powerful gale. Soarin' had to brace himself to keep from being swept away.
Then, to his shock, the walls began to crumble. The crystal slowly broke apart as the light and wind intensified. Massive cracks appeared, and shards of rock and diamond flew off into the air. They swirled around in the gust, forming a tight circle that began to close in on itself. They emitted a powerful light that nearly blinded the young colt as he threw his arm over his eyes in an effort to shield them from the glowing whirlwind in front of him.
He didn't lower his arm until the gale subsided. There, standing on the previously unoccupied dais, was a glowing white alicorn. She (Soarin' assumed it was a she) radiated an aura of supreme power, but not the malevolent kind of power---the kind of power mothers have, authoritative but also gentle. Her body seemed to be made of the same crystalline material that made up the cave walls, which had already been blown apart by the whirlwind. But the strangest thing about her was that she wasn't moving, yet she appeared to be: her glowing skin was swirling with a spectrum of different colors, all in motion across her stagnant, unflinching figure.
Soarin' didn't know what to make of this at first. The only think he could think of was how in Equestria his friend managed to find this for a birthday gift.
Then the alicorn spoke, in the same voice that he'd heard earlier in his dream.
My brave hero.
Oddly, Soarin' felt compelled to bow at the sound of her voice in his head. Without thinking he got down on one knee and bowed his head in front of the being.
The alicorn continued.
I am afraid I do not have much time to explain. Dark forces are at work in Equestria, and they have begun to tamper with my power. It is all I can do to inform you of your hidden abilities, which you must utilize in your battle against these forces.
At this the little foal raised his head. "Hidden abilities?"
The alicorn cut him off with a gentle whisper of silence before going on.
There is no time. We must complete the ritual posthaste.
She stepped down off the dais, her hoofsteps barely touching the marble floor. She bowed her head until her long horn was level with Soarin's forehead. She leaned forward a bit more and gently prodded him with her horn.
The instant the glowing horn touched his skin, the room lit up as a burst of pure white light filled the air. The light shaped itself into a dark thundercloud, churning with the power of electricity, which hovered just over his head. Just as soon as it appeared, the cloud dissipated.
It is done.
Soarin' gazed up at the alicorn just as she began to fade from view. "What happened?" he asked frantically. "What did you do?"
My powers weaken. I must go!
The pegasus galloped over to the deity, who had almost completely vanished. "Wait! Don't leave!"
The alicorn gave one final smile of hope at the foal, her pupilless eyes filled with compassion and trust.
Goodbye, Windbreaker.
Soarin' grimaced. He wasn't about to let this moment slip away from him. He needed answers, and she had them. He quickly uncurled his wings and flapped them once with all his strength.
But it was too late. The alicorn was gone, and the room had gone dark again. Soarin' fell headfirst onto the floor, which hurt like crazy and knocked the wind out of him.
Slowly, rubbing his forehead, he sat up and looked around. The cave was back to the way it had been before he'd entered, the walls repaired and the dais unmoving. The only change was the light streaming from the ceiling, which was much darker and appeared to be coming through some sort of filter.
He groaned, the pain in his noggin from when he'd hit the floor almost too much for him. He cantered over to the dais so that he could rest on top of it when he noticed something that hadn't been there when he entered.
It was a green-and-blue striped scarf, one that looked handmade by someone's grandma. It had a note attached to it, about a half a page long and written in the sloppy red handwriting of someone Soarin' knew very well. Smiling, he picked up the note and read it.
"Dear Soarin',
We've known each other for a long time now, as long as I can remember, and I'm sure as long as you can remember too. (Though with your kind of attention span, your memory probably only goes back as far as last week.)
For as long as we've been friends, we've always had each others' backs. We'd stick our necks out for each other whenever we could. So, to recognize the pact we share, I've given you this as a reminder to keep your own neck safe in those times when I'm not around.
Plus, it's green. And green is an awesome color.
Your BFF, Spitfire"
The letter was signed with what was known as Spitfire's signature: a golden lightning bolt with crimson flames sprouting from the top.
Soarin's smile grew bigger as he read the note. Then, wrapping the scarf around his neck, he crawled back through the tunnel, having completely forgotten about the bizarre encounter he'd just had. For the time being, all he could see was his best friend's warm, smiling face and flowing crimson mane.
----
"So, tell me the truth," a beaming Spitfire said the second her friend emerged from the tunnel. "Do you love it or do you love it?"
Soarin' stared at her blankly. It took a second for him to remember what she was talking about; he was only now beginning to remember what he'd just witnessed in that cave. "Huh? Oh, yeah, the scarf. Yeah, it's cool. Thanks."
Spitfire raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "You don't sound too sure. Everything okay?"
The colt only half-heard what his friend said. He was too busy thinking about the strange events that had just gone down.
Who was that strange alicorn? It was definitely the same being he'd met in that dream earlier. She had looked ancient, older than Celestia even. Was she even really a pony? She looked like the manifestation of some kind of old magic that hadn't been used in centuries. And what had she done with her horn? Was that giving some of her power to him? Or was it just opening up something inside him? She did say something about his hidden abilities. Maybe her horn was some kind of key, and now he could do crazy superhero stuff? If that was true, he sure as hay didn't know how to use it, so it was pretty useless.
At this moment he realized that his best friend was staring him directly in the face. "Well?" she demanded impatiently.
Soarin' blinked, regaining his focus. "Well, what?"
She threw her hooves up in the air in frustration. "Did you even listen to a word I said? Seriously, you never pay attention to anything. You've always got your head in the clouds!"
He sighed, his mind trying to come up with some way to do damage control. "First off, you sound like my teachers. Second, isn't having my head in the clouds a good thing? You know, since we're in the clouds?"
She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. Come on, I'm trying to talk to you here and you just keep drifting away and staring out into space. Can you just focus for like three seconds?"
He nodded slowly, adjusting the new scarf around his neck. "Sorry. I just have a lot going on right now."
Spitfire blew a raspberry. "Pfft! What could you possibly have going on that's so important?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but something stopped him at the last moment. If he told her what had happened in that cave, she'd think he was insane or delusional or hallucinating--or all three. There was no good way to explain. Pulling the scarf over his mouth as an excuse to refrain from speaking, he walked briskly away towards the park's entrance.
"Hey!" the red-maned peasus called after him. "Where ya goin'? Come back!"
Soarin' didn't turn around. The sky had started to grow dark, and a gust of wind blew through the park as he trotted down the path leading out back into the city.
Spitfire was left standing next to the tunnel leading into the cave. Her lower lip curling into a slight pout, she looked down at the ground. A brown leaf blew past her hooves, nonchalantly gliding in the wind. She turned her head as it went, following it with her eyes until she couldn't see it anymore.
She remembered the strange visions she'd been having recently: a glowing alicorn, emerging from a ball of fire, prodding her forehead with its long horn, warning her of some impending doom, filling her with warmth as scarlet flames licked her ankles and her eyes burned with heat and power. She shuddered as she recalled the quiet whisper in her ear, somehow louder than the crackle of the flames enveloping her:
Firestarter.
The wind began to calm down. Or perhaps it just felt that way because her body was slightly warming up, like the embers of an internal flame were just starting to ignite within her chest.
It was almost exactly like the dream he'd had in class: he was floating (or falling; he wasn't sure which) through a void, surrounded by nothingness. From the darkness emerged the alicorn, glowing with divine power and beauty, spreading its wings and addressing him as "the hero."
As their power grows, mine weakens. You are the fulcrum that must balance the scale.
"Balance?" he asked, his anger growing with every word. "But I don't even know what powers I have! Why are you so cryptic? Why can't you just tell me straight?"
If I gave you the answers to your questions, it would defeat the purpose.
"What purpose do it have to make me find them?! I don't know anything, and you do! But you refuse to tell me!"
It is not in my power to tell you.
Soarin' was furious now. As he writhed in anger, a dark tornado started to form. Winds swept his mane and tail aside as he stared venomously at the mysterious alicorn. He yelled, and the tornado rushed forward and lashed out at her like a whip.
Still yelling, he opened his eyes. The dream was over, and he was lying in bed. His grandpa was standing in the doorway of his room.
"Everything all right, sport?" he asked. "I heard screaming. You doin' okay?"
Soarin' nodded. "Yeah, Gramps. Just...a bad dream."
"Okie-dokie, then. Well, breakfast is almost ready. Just come down whenever you're ready!" He turned around and went back downstairs, his hoofsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards.
The colt blew a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. That encounter was a bit much. He didn't know why he'd gotten so worked up over it.
At least the other nightmare has stopped, he thought.
----
After preparing for the school day and meeting up with Spitfire, they walked over to the school together as usual. All memories of their somewhat icy reception from the previous day had been forgotten.
As they approached the main entrance, they caught sight of a group of foals crowding around something they couldn't make out. "What's all the commotion about?" Spitfire asked, but just then they heard her brash, shrill voice and knew instantly who it was.
"Fillies and gentlecolts!" The speaker's voice carried loudly over the sounds of the crowd. "May I have your attention!"
Soarin' strained his neck to get a closer look. Sure enough, the multi-hued mane of the filly standing in the center of the crowd confirmed her identity as that of Rainbow Dash, one of their classmates. She was passing out pieces of paper that he assumed were invitations of some sort. He listened to the cyan pegasus as she spoke.
"This afternoon, right after school, there's gonna be this big race that me and some jerks are gonna be having. It's a race to defend the honor of a certain pegasus who I'm sure you all know very well. These jerks have been picking on this filly for far too long, and I'm gonna use my superior skills to shut them up for good!"
It was at this moment that Soarin' noticed Fluttershy standing timidly next to Rainbow Dash, cowering in shame. Obviously she didn't like being thought of as the center of attention, even if the attention was really going to Rainbow.
Dash continued speaking. "So everypony come out and support me as I show those bullies who's the boss around Cloudsdale!"
The audience cheered enthusiastically. Fluttershy wrapped her pink mane over her eyes in an effort to appear invisible, but obviously it did nothing.
By this time the fliers had been passed around to everyone, including the birthday boy and his friend. They both read the papers, which depicted a streak of rainbow shaped like a lightning bolt along with the information about where and when the event was to take place.
"Well, should we go to this?" Spitfire asked after reading the notice. "I mean, it can't hurt. And those jocks really need to be taught a lesson."
"Yeah, a lesson in how not to be stupid," Soarin' said, stuffing the flier into his schoolbags.
"And besides, it's not like you have anything better to do with your life," she joked.
On any other day he would have come up with a witty retort, but her words reminded her of what the alicorn had said to him the night before. He apparently did have something better to do with his life, and she had no idea. But how could she? She wasn't the one who was chosen by a goddess to go on some brave quest and defeat the powers of darkness.
Heh. When he put it that way, the whole thing seemed kinda cool. He felt a sense of inner excitement to get started on this journey, become a hero, and get the fame and glory he'd always wanted. Maybe I don't have to be a Wonderbolt for people to notice me, he thought.
At this point the wind had started to pick up again. The trees swayed in the light, warm air, sending a somewhat sweet scent over the schoolyard as all the foals galloped inside, not wanting to miss their first period class.
----
All day Rainbow Dash sauntered through the halls with her head held high. Today was the big day! It was finally her chance to show those jocks who was boss. Nopony messes with Fluttershy and gets away with it!
The three bullies were all years older than the other foals in their class, having already gotten their cutie marks. That was because they'd each been held back twice for failing all their classes. After all, it isn't hard to flunk out when you spend half the school year in the detention room. They felt like it was their duty to rid Cloudsdale Preparatory School of all the "weaklings," of which the yellow filly was one.
She remembered the events of the day before: seeing the helpless filly being pushed around, flying over to her and defending her honor, accepting the challenge to race. She remembered the amused looks on the colts' faces as they realized she was serious. She remembered how she had brushed aside their insults and jeers, being the loyal friend that she was, and sticking up for those who needed to be stuck up for.
Fluttershy herself didn't comment on the situation. She tried to talk to her friend about the dangers of going to such lengths just for her, but her timid voice barely reached the cyan filly's rapid-fire brain. She insisted that she didn't want to have anypony go to the trouble of defending her, that she didn't like making a big showdown of it all. Alas, her friend was too busy with her own agenda.
By Celestia, if Fluttershy isn't going to put her hoof down and stand up to those punks, I'll be the one to do it for her!
----
Half of the Cloudsdale Prep student body was crowded into the tiny stands that afternoon. Soarin' and Spitfire were up in the front, having an excellent view of Rainbow Dash as she warmed up before the race. Standing next to her were the three bullies, who looked arrogant and smug as they jeered and laughed at pretty much everyone. No one gave them the time of day; everyone wanted Dash to emerge as the victor.
Fluttershy stood on a tiny cloud in front of the starting line, holding a checkered flag that would be used to signal the race's start. She swayed it timidly as she cast her gaze towards the ground below, her pink mane obscuring the vision in one of her eyes.
"What's taking them so long?" Spitfire complained over the din of the crowd. "I have things to do, places to go, ponies to see!"
Her friend rolled his eyes. "Spitfire, you only wanted to come because you had 'nothing better to do.'"
"Well, I didn't think it would be as boring as this!" She rose from her seat and prepared to walk out of the stands. "C'mon, let's scram."
"Hold up!" Soarin' raised a hoof to silence the rad-maned pegasus. "It looks like they're saying something!"
Spitfire sat back down immediately, not wating to miss a second of the drama. It appeared that Hoops was yelling something at Rainbow Dash.
"You're going down, Rainbow Crash!" he said, pointing at the ground below to articulate his point.
The cyan filly returned the threat with a challenge of her own. "In history, maybe!" Facing forward and posing determinedly she added, "See you boys at the finish line!"
By this point the audience had realized that something was about to go down. The anticipation grew so thick that you couldn't have cut it if you sliced it with a chainsaw.
The noise from the stands ceased. The air was still as the four racers tensed, poised and ready to begin, their eyes on the flag being held by Fluttershy. The flag was raised. Time slowed to a crawl. Perspiration dripped down Rainbow's forehead. Then, after an eternity of waiting, the flag dropped.
And they were off.
The four pegasi zoomed forwards at incredible speeds, so fast that the audience could barely see them. Suddenly the stands erupted in cheering as Rainbow Dash started off in the lead. Nopony noticed Fluttershy being knocked off balance during the racers' start and falling from the clouds onto the surface far below; they were too bust watching in awe as Dash sped past her competitors, leaving them in the dust.
"Rainbow! Rainbow! Rainbow!" the crowd cheered as the ponies sped through the first gate, followed by the next, and then the next. Dash was leading by a wide margin. Glancing over her shoulder to check on her positioning, she sped through each obstacle, deftly defying all odds. The others weren't so lucky; Dumbbell crashed headfirst into a cloud column, rendering him disqualified from the race.
She was now a huge distance ahead of her competitors. She felt the wind in her mane, the gust in her wings, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had never felt so free. Grinning hugely, she relaxed and let down her guard for a fleeting moment.
It was the worst possible time.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Hoops body-slammed into her, sending her tumbling head over hooves. He'd cheated! Quarterback had told him about a shortcut before the race, but QB himself failed to spot it in the heat of the moment and was left far behind.
"Later, Rainbow Crash!" he called as the filly with the multichromatic mane righted herself. He sped off into the lead, leaving her to orient herself.
She was furious at the dirty trick he'd played. "Hey!" she shouted after him as she increased her speed to catch up to him. But it was no use--he was just too far away.
Then a wild idea played at the corner of her mind. Maybe, just maybe, this is crazy enough to work!
She pulled in her wings and began a nosedive right for the ground. Her speed rose dramatically as she went into freefall, letting gravity do the work for her. Her arms extended in front of her, she zoomed at a rapid pace towards the surface below. Her lips curled back from the G-force as a cone of light energy formed around her.
Almost there! she pleaded, shutting her eyes as she prepared to pull out of the dive.
