//------------------------------// // Reflecting on the Past // Story: A Song of Transformation // by Honey Lavender //------------------------------// The stories I’d heard of the Frozen North were by far not exaggerated, almost to the degree of being tamer than the actual thing. Regardless, as the snow swirls around the Wonderbolts and myself, I find myself grateful for the jacket and flight goggles that have been gifted to me. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I’ve practically forgotten my beef with Spitfire; the cold and ice aren’t terribly forgiving in the wandering mind department, leaving me with no room in my head to think of anything other continuing motion to keep warm, and squinting through the goggles that have begun to freeze over with the frost from my own breath. Too bad for the unfortunate weather that I’ve picked up a few tricks to stave off that particular problem, though. Dash had apparently planned for this eventuality, as she had begun lecturing me on principles of weather control when we were somewhere between Canterlot and Cloudsdale while we flew. And I was grateful, as it not only gave me insight into valuable skills which are coming in handy at this very moment, but it had also taken my mind off of how long we’d been flying, which in turn had given a small but measurable boost to my endurance. Granted, we’d needed to stop off in Cloudsdale anyway for food and other, more personal needs, at which time I’d taken advantage of the opportunity to get some help adjusting the goggles for a better fit, and then taking the chance to practice some hooves-on applications of what Dash had been lecturing me about thus far… that is, for all of 5 minutes, until I accidentally zapped Spitfire with a misplaced lightning bolt from a storm cloud that Dash had me attempting to manipulate, at which point the (understandably furious) officer had embargoed any further practice involving clouds. “Your abilities stem from the magic that every pony’s body contains,” Dash had told me. “You can tap into that magic, and will what you wish from the weather with it. It is an extension of your willpower.” I’d given her a blank stare at the time, but in the last 3 hours of flying nose-first into a blizzard I’ve come to appreciate how easy that explanation had been to understand. “Don’t worry, newbie; most of it is instinctual. Kinda like how you’d known how to preen your feathers, or how to cloudwalk. The rest only needs training for safety and efficiency.” That said, as I will the icing that’s occurred on my goggles to thaw, leave, and refreeze elsewhere, the solid water droplets had complied in breaking the laws of thermodynamics… at least, they had temporarily. All I’d done is donated a little bit of my energy to initiate a phase change, and then allowed my change to be undone once the water was clear of my field of vision. I’ve only had to do that about once every hour, which is a relief. I’ve almost fallen behind repeatedly, only being saved by the more experienced fliers around me noticing the flagging pace caused by me diverting my attention to a defrost, and mercifully slowing their own paces and performing their own defrosts at the same time. “Alright, team! Listen up!” I’m jolted from my absent-minded flying by Spitfire’s sudden speaking up, the first vocal interaction any of the team has had in the last 4 hours. “The Empire’s weather warding will be coming into sight here in the next half hour; once inside we will land at the train station and await Captain Shining Armor! He will escort us to the palace, where we will be receiving a more in-depth briefing from Princess Cadance; because she wasn’t comfortable disclosing the cause of her distress call on paper, we have no clue what we’re flying in on. Be ready for anything. Your bunking instructions were enclosed in your orders-- Axios, leave those in your saddle bags! You can re-check them once we’re on the ground!” Blushing, despite the cold, I close the saddle bags I’d borrowed from Pinkie Pie with the orders still safely tucked inside. Annoyed, Spitfire returns to her briefing. “As I was saying, they’ll be on the 3rd page. We begin tackling the issue at 08:00 hours; don’t be late for breakfast! Any questions?” “No, ma’am!” the rest of us cry in unison. “Excellent; glad we’re crystal clear. Form up, and ready for final approach!” The group assumes a Diamond Formation, with Spitfire at the lead, Soarin and Fleetfoot on either side, and Rainbow Dash and I trailing the remainder of the group who’ve taken up positions 2 or 3 high. On cue, we all re-ignite our cloud trails as the cerulean-hued barrier formed by the Crystal Heart comes into view. Dash nudges me, and mutters in my ear. “Pretty cool view, huh? Ever see anything like this in your jet?” I shake my head, stunned nearly speechless. “No, the closest you get to this sort of view is when you pitch up too much, and risk stalling out. Fixed-wing flight requires you keep air moving over the wings to maintain lift…” I trail off, an idea forming in my head. Rainbow Dash glances at me, suddenly wearing an expression of concern under her goggled face. “I’ll explain later, Dash.” We fly for another 10 minutes or so, the dome becoming more akin to a giant wall. Just as I’m about to panic that we’re going to crash, though, the lead trio flies right through it, and before I can process what I just saw, I pass through the barrier as well. Inside, the weather is comparable to a sunny Spring day, although I’m fairly sure that’s just an illusion created by the sudden lack of windchill. Landing next to the platform, we all remove our goggles and stow them in our saddle bags. Fleetfoot notices the dumbfounded look on my face, and as I glance back and forth between the shield and my unharmed hooves I hear her chuckle. “Don’t worry, Axios. Everypony freaks out their first time.” She looks at me, an odd expression on her face. And then it hits me; she was one of the ponies that pulled my sorry ass out of the Ponyville Reservoir. She’d seen my inadvertent Rainboom, everything leading up to it, and the immediate aftermath of me underestimating my own abilities, and then she’d helped airlift my broken form back to Ponyville General. I owed this arctic blue pegasus for her hoof in saving my life… “I never got to thank you…” I pause as she tosses me a questioning glance. “...for helping save me? Thank you… if it weren’t you, Soarin, and Spitfire, I wouldn’t be here; I’d probably be facedown at the bottom of the reservoir, even with Rainbow Dash being there…” I grimace, remembering my erroneous judgement of the after effects of the Rainboom. A few feet away, Fleetfoot mirrors my reaction. “Why did you pull up like that? Surely you must’ve known…” she fixes me with a sharp stare, her fuschia eyes unwavering in intensity. I can’t do more than shrug. “I’d always thought that the shockwave was purely visual; I had no reason to believe that I was effectively dealing with a high-power explosive, let alone that I was even capable of performing that stunt. Surely I’m not the only one who thought that was fairly exclusive to Dash, here, am I?” Fleetfoot just stares at me, open mouthed and clearly in shock at my own admission of self-doubt. I halfway expect her to ask me not to call her ‘Shirley’ with that expression… “Woah, woah woah woah. Wait a minute; you mean to tell us that you DIDN’T intentionally do that?” This question comes from Misty Fly, to whom I just shake my head. “Alright, everypony who collected from me, pay up!” she announces, before admonishing Soarin. “You SERIOUSLY need to start getting all the details before telling stories like that.” The pale blue stallion turns a deep shade of red, not more than 2 or 3 shades lighter than my fur. Not that I’m not embarrassed; apparently I was just the source of a bet. “All you had to do was ask, man,” I manage to say, before we’re approached from the direction of the town. “Well… good afternoon, Captain.” I look up at the sound of Spitfire’s voice, and looking around I can see a white unicorn stallion approaching us, wearing a purple variation of the Royal Guard’s armor. No way, I think to myself, realizing that this must be our escort, Shining Armor. And then, I’m in Army mode again, realizing that Spitfire had addressed him by rank… and a superior rank, at that. I snap to attention, and involuntarily salute the Prince. “Group, atten-SHUN! Present, ARMS!” I shout, startling half the Wonderbolts with the suddenness of my change in character. Spitfire doesn’t seem amused, although Shining Armor appears to be… chuckling. He finds it funny- just my luck. Trotting over to me, he returns the salute. “Heh… didn’t expect to get that kind of welcome. At ease, by the way.” I relax visibly, somewhat embarrassed by how quickly my mind had changed gears. “So, it seems that you have some kind of military experience. But I don’t recognize you, so I doubt you were ever in the Royal Guard…” he ponders the situation for a moment, before asking a pointed question. “Tell me; are you the human I keep reading about in my sister’s letters?” I don’t think I like where this is headed, but I also don’t think that it’s wise to be dishonest. And everypony else knows anyway, so there’s no point in hiding it from him. “Yes, sir. Yes, I am. Name’s Steve, sir,” I extend a hoof, which he graciously shakes. “I have to say; when I left Portland International, I never planned on paying Equestria an extended visit. That’s not even a documented flight path…” I look down, embarrassed, as the Captain chuckles. “Well, care to fill me in? Where’d you get the military experience?” He seems genuinely interested, so I quickly tell my story of the couple years I spent in the Army, as well as the benefits I would’ve reaped had I stayed in longer. “So, wait… why'd you get out so early, then?” he pauses, adding a request to his question. “And can we walk and talk? My wife will kill me if I don’t get the lot of you to the castle… well, not KILL me, but you get the idea.” As a group, we set off for the castle in the middle of the Empire. “Eh… life happened. It wasn’t ideal for me to maintain course, and I had other pressing matters that needed attending to,” I admit, telling only part of the truth. Shining Armor doesn’t seem convinced, but much to my relief he doesn’t press it any further. From the corner of my eye, I can see Spitfire eyeing me in a new light, having heard more of my story than I’d initially been willing to share with her when things were short-term business. “Besides; I had other responsibilities at the time.” "As good a reason as any, I suppose," Shining Armor muses. "Come on; we're almost there." Passing the Crystal Heart, which I take a moment to admire, much to Spitfire’s chagrin, we enter the castle through massive doors… which I take a moment to admire, much to Spitfire’s chagrin. “Now THAT is a big door,” I muse, before shaking my head and trotting inside to catch up with the rest of the group. Bunking down for the night, all I can think of is that briefing, the utter bullshit that it was. Apparently, the initial issue had been resolved while we were in flight. Not surprising, shit like that happens all the time. But for a pony to go missing shortly afterwords? Something just isn't adding up. With a sigh, I lay down and resign myself to grab some sleep; last thing I want to do is miss breakfast - I hear the cooks in the Empire rival those in Canterlot. But sleep doesn’t come. I lay awake, staring at the wall and reflecting on the last several years of my life. I’m not complaining or anything, I’ve had a good 20 years before now. But when did it become so… boring? Was flying a jet really getting so predictable that my dreams were slowly becoming the bane of my existence? And it doesn’t help that flight using 3 control surfaces, compared with the magically enhanced flight lent to me by my current form, is extremely limited in directional control, especially when I realize that my entire current body is effectively one giant control surface capable of vectoring me in ways no human jet could ever hope to have a chance of mirroring. Finally having a name for how I’d felt before the transportation is both a relief and a cause for concern, but I can’t stay on that thought too long. Within a few minutes of contemplating this revelation, exhaustion finally gets the better of me and I slowly drift to sleep. Good thing, too is the last thing I think before I finally enter Luna’s domain. Something tells me I’ll need all the rest I can get for tomorrow.