Twilight's temper was understandably short as she stalked home towards the library. Despite having missed many meals during her two week development session, her muscles were flooded with tense energy. Corsair hadn't merely struck a nerve with her, he had gouged her deeply. Though the pegasus himself was long gone, his comments still echoed loudly within her skull, keeping her red-hot determination to spite him well stoked. She racked her brain endlessly for any spells and incantations which might give her the feathered wings necessary to put Corsair in his place, though none came to mind.
It's hopeless... She scornfully admitted to herself, as she continued through the town's park, Alicorns are born only from other alicorns... What if I were to change myself into a pegasus? No, then he'd win... Argh!
“Look out, Twilight!”
Twilight snapped herself out of her brooding just in time to sidestep a homemade hang-glider swooping low to the ground. Twilight could see it was yet another attempt at a cutie mark by the Crusaders, as Scootaloo was busy buzzing away at the controls, strapped in by one of Applebloom’s old work harnesses. The canvas of the glider was held together by rough stitching, most likely Sweetie-Belle’s work.
“Ya got it this time, Scootaloo!” Cried Applebloom as she chased after the glider with Sweetie-Belle trailing behind. “Jus’ keep buzzin’ yer wings like that and you’ll keep flyin’!”
Twilight watched the trio of fearless fillies as they ran off into the distance. Suddenly, she was hit with spark of inspiration.
I might not have been born an alicorn… but that doesn’t mean I can’t make one!
* * *
It was well after two o' clock as Spike slid a copy of Your Filly's First Flight into the last open shelf. He had been re-organizing the library’s entire collection to fit Corsair’s texts since one, and there still remained a sizable pile yet to be sorted. He had manged to clean up most of the mess from the morning's calamity before Corsair arrived to deliver his texts, but had left Vought's guide open where it lay, lest he himself strain a muscle if he dared to move it again. His quiet organizing was interrupted as Twilight barged into the library, hurriedly pushing one of Rarity's mannequins though the open door before slamming it shut behind her.
“What's with the mannequin, Twilight? Are you gonna make a companion for Cottonmouth?” Spike asked after his initial shock settled. He began to chuckle, but Twilight's glare of impending death silenced him.
“Spike, we agreed never to speak of that again! I am not making anything else sentient, especially not another overly-attached mannequin with extreme separation anxiety! Rarity still throws these things out every month because of that incident! We were lucky enough to get Zecora to agree to take care of... it.”
Her mind flashed back to that disastrous week. It had been fun at first, a new friend, eager to please, Pinkie even gave Cottonmouth a 'Congratulations-on-Becoming-Sentient' party. Things had only become a problem when Cottonmouth wouldn't leave Rarity at peace, always seeking her approval, purposefully frightening-off Sweetie-Belle, watching over Rarity as she slept, and that smile...
“Don't you mean 'him?'” Spike cut back in.
“I don't CARE!” She screamed while slamming the mannequin in the place of the old desk, “Point is, this mannequin is not becoming sentient any time soon! I just need a base to work off of...”
Another thought made Twilight turn her attention to Corsair's book. She began to tab through the pages, lazily turning a page every so often.
“Spike, you did say this was Corsair's complete guide, right? No omissions?”
“Yeah, I think so...”
“Oh, good,” She replied, calmly trotting over to the shelves now filled with flight texts. Suddenly, the whole collection, ensnared by a purple glow, evacuated itself from the shelves and heaped onto the floor. “We don't need these, then.”
* * *
Spike cautiously opened the door to the library's basement. Twilight had barricaded herself in after she removed Corsair's texts, absconding with the guide to flight and Rarity's mannequin. She had remained in place for the past two weeks, only making appearances above ground for occasional supply runs. As Spike crept down the stairs, cracked from Corsair's codex being dragged down them one fortnight prior, he caught sight of Twilight. She was asleep in the center of the room, her mane a greater mess than it had ever been before.
I guess insanity leaves no time for hair care...
For the past two weeks, Twilight had been adamant in keeping Spike out of her makeshift hangar, going so far as to have him leave food for her by the basement door. He had not seen a single note or sketch of the wing's design, but now gazed open mouthed at the objects of interest. The artificial wings sat folded patently on the mannequin positioned more-or-less at the center of the basement. Per usual when it came to these obsessions of Twilight's, papers with notes and sketches littered the floor around her and the mannequin. What appeared at first to be a new beige wallpaper were pages upon pages of sketches, all of which pertained to her wing designs. Some were more outlandish than others, and some showed what sleep deprivation could do to a brilliant mind. Metal scraps and wooden trinkets of what could only be imagined as failed wing pieces accompanied the scattered papers on the floor. A glint of afternoon sun shone off a metal fitting on the wings, capturing Spike's interest.
They were designed unlike any natural wing. On the outer portion of the wings, a set of artificial, individually adjustable feathers set the shape of the wingtips, while on the inner section a single airfoil made of wooden supports and canvas stood in place of the lift-producing secondary feathers. The two arms of the wing were joined together by a spring-loaded hinge made so the wing could be folded and unfolded quickly and precisely. The two wings were fused to a recycled work harness, which still carried the branding of Sweet Apple Acres.
Spike crept closer to the wings to investigate, being mindful to avoid stepping on any parchment, lest he wake up Twilight. He ran a curious claw along the leading edge of one of the folded wings. There, he found two sliders, one on each arm of the wing. He gingerly nudged the slider on the outer arm and watched as the artificial feathers slowly spread wide from each each other.
So that moves the- what did Twilight call them? He wondered as he felt the thin metal plumage. The mark of "P-12" etched into one of the "feathers" caught his eye. Primaries, right?
When he returned the slider to its previous state, the feathers tucked themselves tightly together again. He experimented with the second slider, but it didn't seem to want to budge in either direction he tried. Curious as to its function, he lifted the wing above his head to see what function the device served, not noticing the length of piano wire stretching from the wing's joint to the bottom of the harness growing tighter and tighter as he continued to lift...
KA-CHUCK!
The wing flared open violently, sending Spike reeling. Twilight was jolted from her peaceful slumber, screaming in panic. The wing dropped back down, snapping itself closed as suddenly as it had opened once it reached the bottom of its perceived stroke with the help of yet another length of piano wire. Her heart still racing from her unwelcome courtesy call, and realizing there was no clear and present danger, she turned to glare at Spike.
“Gah! Oh Celestia, you look terrib- good! I meant good, actually...” Spike said, trying to cover for his slip.
“Spike, why are you down here?” She asked flatly, one eye half closed, “I thought I told you not to bother me while I was was working. You didn't touch the SR-71C, did you?”
It didn't look like you were work- “The what?”
Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “The wings, Spike. I've designated them the SR-71C, short for 'Special Research, 71st Compound Design.'"
Spike just gave the wings a quizzical look. “Right... anyway, Applejack just stopped by. She said Dash was just released from the hospital at four, and that she's staying with her. She also gave us some Pegacodin in case Dash needs it during her rehab sessions with us.”
“'Rehab sessions?'” Twilight asked halfway through a yawn and rubbing a puffy eye.
“Yeah. Nurse Redheart said Dash needs daily stretching so she heals properly.”
“Oh, great. I'm sure Dash is happy about that.” She responded sleepily, her tiredness overpowering her happiness for her friend being on the road to recovery. She could only focus on finally getting herself a good night's rest as she began to shoo Spike ahead of her up the stairs.
* * *
Twilight woke up the next morning eager to continue work on the wings. While her one good night of sleep did little to fully make up for her past two weeks of research-based insomnia, it did well enough to get her out of bed early in the morning. She trotted to the basement after a quick breakfast, set on trying to hover before the day was out. Spike followed closely behind carrying a quill and parchement.
“This is it, Spike! This is the day I'm gonna fly, or at least hover.” A smug smile crossed her face as she imagined Corsair's shocked expression in seeing the formally flightless pony hovering before his very eyes. “Get that quill and parchment ready, I want you to take notes for me, Spike.” The little dragon readied himself.
As if I was gonna miss this! He thought gleefully.
She unbuckled a shackle at the girth of the harness, freeing the mannequin from the homemade device, and placed it on her back. She sinched the buckle tightly around her girth and took hold of the inner arms of the closed wings with her magic. Slowly, she brought the wings to their apogee, where with another KA-CHUCK, the two wings flared brilliantly, fully revealing their grandeur. The small amount of morning sun present within the basement glinted brightly off of the metal feathers and the couplings keeping the wings together. Twilight readied herself, angling the wings for optimum lift, at least from what she understood from Corsair's text.
“Okay, time to set the primaries..” She adjusted the outer slider, spreading the artificial feathers at the wingtips. “...and now the secondaries.” Twilight moved the inner slider towards her, causing the airfoils on the inner arms to drop slightly.
Huh, so that's what that second slider does, Spike mused.
“Alright. First flight test with the SR-71C, hovering! Primaries spread, check! Secondaries dropped for added lift, check! I just hope the wings can produce enough thrust.” Twilight inhaled deeply as her heart raced. This was it! She powered the wings down as hard as she could, and immediately became aware of several things:
One: The wings were definitely large enough to produce enough thrust.
Two: The harness was punching her in the chest as she was lifted off the ground.
Three: She was moving backwards.
Indeed, she was moving backwards, the force of the wings strong enough on the first stroke to cause her to lift off the ground momentarily. A sharp snapping sound erupted from the wings, echoing off the walls of the basement. Twilight had a moment to look back in dismay and see that her wings had folded back together, before crashing onto her back. Spike found himself turned turtle, but only from the force of his own hearty guffaws.
Another sensation grabbed Twilight's attention: a severe stinging across her shoulders had begun to develop. After scraping herself off the floor, she found two rough patches of skin where the piano wire had struck. She would need something to protect herself from her own creation.
“Okay Spike, post-test notes: One...” Twilight started as she replaced the wings onto the mannequin. She stopped when she noticed her number one assistant was still laughing uncontrollably. “Come on Spike, it wasn't that funny.”
“You... w-with the wings... a-and the... BWAHAH!” Spike managed to choke out before rolling back into another bout of laughter.
Twilight dropped her face into a deadpan before trotting up the stairs saying, “Okay then, well, see you later Spike. I'm heading over to Rarity's. Be back soon.”
Spike stopped laughing and immediately sat up. “Rarity's?!” He asked excitedly, a gleam in his eye.
“Oh, you can't come along, not until you finish re-cataloging the fiction section from F-35 to P-38.”
It was Spike's turn to deadpan.
“Do you want to work through to P-51 instead?”
“No, I'll get on it.” He replied begrudgingly. “But I can visit Rarity when I'm done, right?”
“When you're done, yes.”
She then departed for the Carousel Boutique, leaving Spike to his work.
* * *
“Come iiin!” Rarity sang as she pinned a loose fold of fabric into place on her latest work. Twilight cantered over the threshold, and eyed the dress wearily. An elegant, baby blue dress was sitting atop a mannequin in the center of the boutique. The edges were lined with soft, yellow pegasus feathers. A surprisingly simple line of rubies were placed along the center of the dress, catching Twilight's eye. Rarity hummed a little tune as she floated a large clump of what looked like cotton over to the hood of the gown, and sewed them into the fabric. She plucked the feather’s carefully, choosing only the smallest and softest ones to be woven into the cotton.
“Wow, that's...” Even with her extensive vocabulary, Twilight couldn't quite come up a word to accurately describe the gown.
“I know Twilight, it's magnificent, isn't it?” Rarity finished for her, enthralled by her own work. She herself had been working for the past two weeks on a project of her own, a new line of dresses for her winter lineup. Rartiy, however, was able to keep her sanity throughout the ordeal.
“Um, yeah. It is.” You wouldn't go unnoticed, at least. “You're not too busy, are you? Could you help me out with a little problem?”
“Of course I'll help, darling! What's the issue?”
“Well...” Twilight didn't want to reveal the project she had been working on. After all, it was a strange concept to say that you had just spent the last two weeks locked inside your own basement trying to build a set of artificial wings. Scratch that, an insane concept.
I've gotta tell somepony sometime, and at least Rarity has had an experience with wings, albeit a bad one...
“...I've kind of spent the last two weeks making a set of wings so I could fly, but when I tried them, I got these.” She turned slightly to show Rarity the rashes on her shoulders. “It was piano wire. I was thinking you could make some panels that could prevent this. Is there anything you have that could stand up to this?”
“You've made wings?!” Rarity excitedly asked, ignoring the latter half of her friend's inquiry. “I simply adored those Morning-Dew wings you gave me!” Her eyes sparkled as she reminisced on own brief flight experience, seemingly forgetting the near-death experience that came with them entirely. “Are they anything like what my wings were? Do they shine?”
“No, now can you help me with this?” Twilight flatly responded, a twinge of frustration making its way into her voice.
Rarity looked contemplatively at the two sores before uttering her response with a firm expression on her face.
“Dragon scale.”
“'Dragon scale?'”
“Oh, my, yes!” Rarity began as she searched the boutique, “Dragon scale is far, far more durable than any snake skin leather, and it looks simply marvelous!”
“But where do you get dragon scales? Surely Spike can't be your source, he's still got all his.”
“Oh, I don't take them from him directly,” the white unicorn responded, now digging through her chest of drawers, “I simply collect the ones he sheds. Oh, here they are!”
She pulled a single shoe box from the dresser with her magic and turned, revealing dozens of purple and green scales, all of various sizes. Twilight held back a look of disgust.
“So, these are all of the scales he has shed since...?” She nervously asked as she politely nudged the box of scales away from her face.
“Since right after you two moved into town! What's the matter, don't you save them?”
Twilight just continued to give the open box of scales a confused look. Rarity pressed on.
“Let's get you measured, dear. I should be able to make two panels easily enough.”
“Actually,” Twilight said as she stepped up onto Rarity's fitting podium, “I need four.”
While Rarity set to work taking the necessary measurements, Twilight was still turning a few things over in her head. Her first test that day had been a complete failure. She needed a mentor, somepony who could teach her the proper method by example. Dash was out of the question, not only because she was grounded for the next few months, but she'd require another surgery if Twilight told her she was testing a set home made wings in the library's basement. She needed Fluttershy, one of the best hovering pegasi Twilight knew. Surely she wouldn't be critical of Twilight's wings, and be all too eager to help.
“Done! I should have the panels finished by tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest!”
Twilight hopped down from the podium. “Thanks again, Rarity!” She began cantering toward the door, but Rarity stopped her.
“I almost forgot, Fluttershy checked this out almost two weeks ago,” she floated a copy of Primary Care: A Guide to Proper Pegasus Preening in front of Twilight, “The poor dear just entered 'her time of the year,' and can't return it on its due date. You'll take care of it for her, right?”
Twilight took the book, but paused. “Sure, but 'her time of the year?'”
“She's molting, Twilight. She doesn't like to be out in public with all her feathers dropping out.”
“Oh, okay. I was going to see if she could help me with learning to hover. Guess that'll have to wait..."
“Well... if she isn't early this year, you could ask Derpy for lessons." Rarity replied, tapping a hoof to her chin. "She should be a week out, if I recall correctly.”
“If you 'recall' correctly?”
“Yes, I've made a note of when each pegasus in Ponyville molts. Oh, don't give me that look, it gives me a cheap source of feathers for my gowns! Just look at how brilliantly these turned out!”
Rarity floated two of her mannequins over so Twilight could view them. One had the blue dress she had seen earlier, while the other wore a white gown of the same design, with blue feathers around its hem.
“See how Fluttershy's feathers add a distinctive softness to this?” Rarity asked, “Ooh, and Dash's radiant shine really sets this one apart! I still haven't the slightest clue as to how she does it.”
“Yeah, me niether...” Twilight said, now throughly uncomfortable, “I'm just going to... head home now. I think I left the kettle calling...” She added as she slunk past the boutique's door.
“Tu-tah, darling!”
Halfway home, her mind still focused on Rarity's oddities, she bumped into Spike on his way to the boutique.
“Hey-a Twilight! I finished re-cataloging those books! Can I go to Rarity's now?
“Erm, not today Spike, sorry. She's...busy."
“Aw, ponyfeathers...” a dejected Spike cursed.
Twilight gave an involuntary shudder.