//------------------------------// // II. In Practice // Story: Triptych // by saarni //------------------------------// Shining claret eyes that radiated an unbreachable confidence took in the whitish-blue canopy that hung over Ponyville; thankfully, the town was not noted for its plethora of tall buildings, so Rainbow Dash had an almost unimpeded view from one side of the horizon to the other. Despite the biting wind whipping at her face, she still managed to smirk as she recalled something that Twilight Sparkle had once told her, “Actually, what you’re seeing is an illusion. The sky is nothing more than sunlight bouncing off of molecules in the atmosphere.” Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but be amazed at her remembrance of that particular lecture. There’d been so many. Twilight, undoubted genius that she might have been, was also, according to Rainbow Dash at least, rather limited in her thinking. She wasn’t trying to be mean when she needled her about being a nerd and an egghead, but she wished that Twilight would learn to appreciate that there was more to life than science. Take flying, for instance, one of the few subjects that Rainbow Dash considered herself to be an authority in: as far as Twilight was concerned, it was all about vectors, angles of attack, wing-speed, wind-resistance, and so on and so forth. Those things were important, no question, but if that really was all there was to it, then wouldn’t she be the Wonderbolt and not Rainbow Dash? Her exhalation was lost to the gust surrounding her. Rainbow Dash knew that she wasn’t so good with words, so whenever she tried to convey thoughts like this to Twilight, it ended up coming off sounding like a veiled insult. Her mind could move pretty quickly, but adrenaline – as well as her own difficulty in thinking calmly and rationally once she was fired up about a subject – would make her say something stupid or offensive. Once she had that head of steam built up, though, it was nigh-impossible to stop herself from just blurting things out. All of which was to say, when Rainbow Dash took to the skies and felt its icy breath pressing against her from all sides, she didn’t see it as a trick of the light or, as Twilight might have it, a conflicting mass of science-y things all happening at once to present her with an interesting optical effect. She saw a canvas. A blank canvas which needed – demanded – an artist to take a brush to it. Again, she didn’t know how to explain this to anypony, but Rainbow Dash knew that the polychromatic trail that flowed in her wake was her own special brand of paint to be daubed upon the expectant canvas of the sky. As she circled the Castle of Friendship, shading her eyes against the glare as shards of sunlight played across its crystalline structure, Rainbow Dash thought about how she was often labelled an attention-seeker. Sometimes, even, by her own closest friends. The way they said it implied that it was a bad thing, and she thought of Discord and Trixie Lulamoon, both of whom were so obsessed with the spotlight that they’d developed showy, arrogant personas and delighted in even the most childish of tricks. They fed on the approbation – though, with Discord, he didn’t seem to mind whether he received positive or negative feedback – in much the same way that she fed on hayburgers and wheat cola. Rainbow Dash couldn’t deny that she also craved recognition; one only had to recall the events with Mare Do Well to know that, though it wasn’t something that she liked to spending too much time dwelling on. She’d been younger and more stupid back then. She was aware enough of her own ego to admit to that, and she didn’t consider it a bad thing either. Her own brand of seeking attention was based on something that was a tad more elusive. Something that was difficult to explain, even to her friends. She didn’t want the short-term buzz that so many got just from showing up and making a lot of noise about how great they were. She wanted to do something great. Something that would keep ponies talking about her for years to come. Sonic rainbooms. The Wonderbolts. Being a hero of Equestria. They were all wonderful achievements, but – and she had yet to admit this to anypony – she didn’t often feel a sense of fulfilment in spite of all that she’d managed to accomplish. Rainbow Dash knew that there were still so many other things she hadn’t yet tried. During her short time with the Wonderbolts, learning about its famous members of years gone by, she’d discovered that there were many techniques that they’d developed which were no longer performed for one reason or another. One in particular had caught her eye and … maybe today was the right day to unleash it upon the skies over Ponyville? It would certainly be a work of art worth remembering. “Twilight?” Rainbow Dash said in a bewildered tone, belatedly realising that she had company. Had she been following her ever since she’d passed by the Castle of Friendship? Her razor-sharp senses – probably the finest to have ever come out of Cloudsdale’s famed Flight School, if she did say so herself – normally would’ve alerted her to something crossing her path well in advance. Had she really been so lost in her thoughts? It was either that or Twilight had become exceptionally good at sneaking about. “How long have you been there?” Favouring her friend with a slight smile, her wings thrumming softly as she kept pace with Rainbow Dash, Twilight replied, “Just a couple of minutes. Long enough to see that look in your eyes.” Twilight’s own mulberry eyes registered a slight hint of amusement. “And what look is that?” asked Rainbow Dash, recovering quickly from her shock. “The I’m-about-to-do-something-incredibly-awesome look. Your tongue is practically hanging out in anticipation, Rainbow.” Idly, she wondered if that was actually true. Still, if she did indeed have such a look and Twilight wasn’t just messing with her, then it was at least reasonably accurate. Rainbow Dash didn’t mind being made fun of; there had been plenty of digs aimed at her one-track mind, or her perceived lack of foresight, so it made a change to have it be about her appearance for once. “As it happens,” Rainbow Dash said in her typically-brash tone, “I do have something in mind that I’ve been working on recently.” “Oh?” Twilight’s eyes went wide expectantly. “Can you tell me more about it? Is it a new addition to the sonic rainboom?” Where she’d previously struggled with it, Twilight knew that Rainbow Dash could now more or less perform the technique at will. In her mind’s eye she could still see the delighted faces of the guests at her brother’s wedding when it had lit up the skies above Canterlot so spectacularly. “No, it’s nothing to do with the rainboom,” replied Rainbow Dash, hiding the irritation in her voice. Sure, it looked amazing and had rarely been done successfully, but the number of times it had been brought up in connection with her was frankly ridiculous. She didn’t want to get to the end of her life and have the sonic rainboom be the only thing that ponies remembered her for. It had been fine at first, but now whenever she was travelling with the Wonderbolts it was pretty much all anypony wanted to know about her. Tartarus, some ponies had even wanted her to tutor their kids in it, and they’d become angry when she’d explained that it wasn’t exactly something that could be taught. “While training with Spitfire, she showed me some new methods to quickly pick up speed, so I was hoping to apply them to this trick I was reading about.” “What?” Twilight said in astonishment. “You were reading something that isn’t Daring Do?” There was a gleam in her eyes to indicate that she was kidding around. “Funny,” Rainbow Dash said dryly, rolling her eyes. By way of revenge, she beat her wings a bit harder, just enough to disturb the airflow and slightly offset Twilight’s delicate balance. “All right, I’m sorry!” Recovering herself after Rainbow Dash finally relented, Twilight said primly, “Please, tell me more about this technique you were reading about.” With a wry smile, Rainbow Dash continued, “Have you ever heard of Lunar Aura?” “Only very vaguely,” Twilight replied, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched her memory for the name. “Until Spitfire came along, she was the youngest ever captain of the Wonderbolts, right?” Nodding, Rainbow Dash said, “That’s the one.” With something very much like awe in her voice, she added, “She was the pioneer of the one technique that was said to be even more impressive than the sonic rainboom: the light-speed dash!” “Ah,” Twilight said. “Now that I have heard of.” She stole a glance at Rainbow Dash and was disturbed to see that she was wearing a very placid expression on her face. Either she didn’t realise the import of what she’d just said or she didn’t actually care. What she said next didn’t help matters. “Being the narcissist that I am,” said Rainbow Dash with just the slightest trace of mocking humour in her voice, “there was no way I was going to pass up a technique that pretty much has my name in it, right? Anyway, while passing through Ponyville this morning, I was looking at the sky and thinking about giving it a trial run. I mean, it’s practically asking for something to happen to it, isn’t it?” She indicated the overwhelming blandness of the empty space around them with a hoof. There weren’t even any clouds today. That brought Twilight up short; she didn’t even notice Rainbow Dash pull away from her, so focused was she on the dark clouds that were now forming in her mind without the need for a weather factory to produce them. If there was something that everypony agreed on, it was that Rainbow Dash was optimism and enthusiasm incarnate. Even in the worst of times, when it seemed like they wouldn’t pull through against their worst foes, she’d have something bolshie and encouraging to say to them. That said, when it came to weighing up consequences and thinking before acting, she was decidedly … lacking. She’d definitely gotten better about it over the years, no doubt in part thanks to her relationship with her adopted little sister, Scootaloo, but she would hardly be Rainbow Dash if she’d lost her impetuous spirit entirely, would she? “Twilight, are you all right?” asked Rainbow Dash, who’d realised that her friend was no longer by her side and had circled back to find her. “You look worried.” That was putting it mildly. Meeting Rainbow Dash’s eyes, she said, “Let me see if I have this right: you want to perform a technique that you’ve literally only just read about right over Ponyville? Said technique makes the sonic rainboom look like a box filled with wet sparklers by comparison. Is that correct?” Oblivious to the concern in Twilight’s voice, Rainbow Dash replied, “Yeah, it’ll look absolutely amazing, won’t it? The photos are only in black and white, so I wonder what the colours will be like.” She was off in her own little dream-world now, her wings flapping excitedly. “I know the townsponies will absolutely love it!” How was it possible for a pony to be so utterly brilliant and yet completely clueless at the same time? Twilight had often wondered this when dealing with Rainbow Dash. It was almost as if her mind worked on a completely different level to everypony else’s. Not better, not worse, just different. It saw things in a way that nopony else did. Her own mind could only see the possibility of immediate and catastrophic consequences for Ponyville if Rainbow Dash performed the light-speed dash. “Well, I’m sure they’ll love it up to the point where buildings start collapsing on them, and they’re running and screaming for their lives.” “What d’you mean by that?” asked Rainbow Dash, her enthusiasm now fading away to be replaced by suspicion. She narrowed her eyes in confusion at Twilight. “Well?” Collecting her thoughts quickly, Twilight said, “You know what the sonic rainboom is, right? An immense shockwave borne out of kinetic and magical energy colliding. That alone has enormous potential for devastation, but luckily it bleeds away into the atmosphere so quickly that it usually doesn’t do much damage. The light-speed dash, however, requires that you be moving so fast and that you take all of that potential energy into yourself, releasing it all at once very much like a bomb going off.” The allure of the trick, she understood, was in seeing the performer moving so fast that they appeared to be in multiple places at once. At the climax, when they rejoined into one, was when the potential and magical energy of the ghost copies – as they were dubbed – came flooding out in an explosion that one commentator had described as being akin to a collision between Helios and Selene, enough to shake the heavens themselves. Maybe Rainbow Dash had skipped over that part in her reading? With a dismissive wave of her hoof, Rainbow Dash said, “All I have to do is make sure the energy is directed away from Ponyville at the end, right?” Twilight made a face. “And you know how to do that, do you?” “Yes.” Rainbow Dash muttered something under her breath that Twilight didn’t quite catch. “Could you repeat that?” she asked sharply. “In theory,” said Rainbow Dash, scratching abashedly at the back of her neck, not quite meeting Twilight’s direct gaze. “I know how to do it in theory. I won’t know for sure until I’m actually up there. You of all ponies should know that there’s a difference between theory and application.” “Yes, I do know that, thank you,” replied Twilight, not appreciating the jab. It was truly astounding how Rainbow Dash could remember her words, but not always the lessons she wanted to impart. “Which is why you rigorously test something new under controlled circumstances instead of blindly charging into it and hoping for the best. You won’t find anypony in Equestria who’ll doubt your credentials as the finest living flier, Rainbow, so I can’t understand why you’re wanting to do something as dangerous as this just to prove it.” “Oh, so you don’t think I can actually do it, do you?” Rainbow Dash’s voice was filled with venom. “All those jokes you and the others tell about me, about how stupid I am, how little attention I pay to anything unrelated to flying, how much of a one-track mind I have … they’re not actually jokes, though, are they? They’re what you really think about me.” It was too easy to lose your temper when arguing with Rainbow Dash, and Twilight found herself biting back much harder than she’d intended to when faced with the accusation. “You’re being silly, Rainbow. You’re acting like a spoiled brat who’s just been told that they can’t have dessert before dinner. If you want to go crashing into the ground at eight-hundred miles per hour, feel free to go ahead and do it!” With barely a pause, she added, “Just don’t do it somewhere other ponies might get hurt. All I’m trying to do here is make you aware of the fact that your little trick comes with some serious repercussions if you screw it up. You’re a brilliant flier, Dashie, but you’re not infallible and the Wonderbolts would definitely not let you perform a routine you hadn’t drilled yourself on a thousand times in advance, would they?” All at once, Twilight felt guilt and shame course through her body. She was aware of how deeply tired all of a sudden she’d become, too, and it was getting harder and harder for her to stay afloat. The whole conversation had been incredibly draining, and she wished it could be over and they could go back to being friends now. The words themselves had been harsh, and the loss of temper had been just as childish as she was accusing Rainbow Dash of behaving. No good was going to come of treating her like an idiot who couldn’t figure things out for herself, and the use of the diminutising nickname was equally as reprehensible. Surprisingly calmly under the circumstances, Rainbow Dash said with an edge of strain in her voice, almost as if she was pleading for permission, “I know I can do it, Twilight. Why are you trying to stop me?” Her body was tensed, ready to spring into action. Ready to fly away and do what she wanted instead of listening to this doubting voice in her ear. “I’m not debating your abilities, Rainbow Dash, I’m really not,” said Twilight, too worn out to even be properly frustrated any more. It amazed her how easy it was to fall into these sorts of traps, even with your best friends. Despite the fact that they were having the same conversation, they were stuck in an endless loop of arguing about different aspects of it. How often did this happen across Equestria and how often did it lead to problems when you just couldn’t make each other see the opposing point of view? “If there was one pony in Equestria who I thought could do this safely, it would be you, but if you lose control of that energy, even for a moment, it could spell disaster for Ponyville. Do you really want that?” As if she were coming out of a trance, Rainbow Dash blinked suddenly. Perhaps the surge of adrenaline that had been propelling her had finally worn off? Perhaps Twilight’s blunt words had penetrated her thick skull? Perhaps she’d just come to her senses? Whatever the reason, she finally said in a plaintive voice, “No, of course I don’t want that.” Looking back over the preceding conversation, she was almost impressed with herself at just how monumentally boneheaded she’d been. She sighed softly, realising that her inflated ego – to say nothing of her raised hackles – had been making her misinterpret Twilight’s actions toward her. It was such a feeble excuse and she felt a deep sense of remorse flood her being. “Hey, Rainbow, are you still with me?” Twilight waved a hoof in front of Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “Huh? What?” “You looked like you were spacing-out there for a second.” “I was thinking.” For once, Twilight had no pithy attempt at humour, and Rainbow continued, “I’m so incredibly sorry, Twilight, I really am. I got so caught up in thinking about the trick, how it would impress everypony if I pulled it off successfully, that I was blinding myself to everything else surrounding it. In fact, if I remember the book correctly, Lunar Aura only ever did the light-speed dash at events that were held way outside of city limits.” Breathing more easily now that Rainbow Dash had finally realised what she’d been trying to tell her, Twilight said, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I was worried sick about what might happen to you and Ponyville if something went wrong, but that’s absolutely no excuse for the way I acted.” She managed a rueful but sincere smile. “Sometimes, I just get this horrible feeling that we’re not on the same page and never will be.” “We usually aren’t.” Rainbow Dash gamely returned the smile, but inside she was still disgusted with herself for what she’d almost allowed to happen. With a shake of her head, she said, “You know, earlier today I was thinking about Discord and Trixie, and how I was different from them. Unlike those two, I don’t actively go out looking for attention, but if I do something that gets ponies interested in me, then that’s okay. It’s okay to enjoy and bask in that glory.” Looking away, she added, “But that was the slippery slope. Once I gave myself that excuse, that I was doing it for them and not for me, I just went looking for bigger and more dangerous stunts to satisfy the itch.” The realisations weren’t done with her just yet. “I almost put the town in danger for the sake of an adrenaline rush, for the sake of my ego. That’s … pretty messed up, isn’t it?” Twilight looked to the skyline for a moment before replying. The sun had shaded into midday. She idly wondered how they must’ve looked to the ponies around Ponyville, having been hovering here arguing for ages now! Everything could’ve looked so different if she hadn’t been able to stop Rainbow Dash from going ahead with her risky scheme. It was fortunate that she’d just happened to spot her from the castle’s parapets and decided to check in with her. Understanding Rainbow Dash was a difficult proposition, and Twilight longed for a more comprehensive sense of her friend and what drove her. “It is,” she finally said, “but you realised that you’d made a mistake and you stopped yourself.” “With some help.” “With some help, yes. Like Celestia had to help me out when the Want-It/Need-It spell went a little astray.” Twilight knew that she’d made more than a few blunders of her own since moving to Ponyville, and her friends had always forgiven her for them. “So long as you learn something from the experience, don’t think of yourself as a bad pony, Rainbow Dash. You aren’t.” “Nah, I’m not bad.” Rainbow Dash smiled forlornly. “I’m just an idiot.” “You are not,” said Twilight firmly. “You just lack a little forethought is all. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She corrected herself quickly, “There’s usually nothing wrong with that. You just have to learn a little patience, to analyse and weigh up all the options before choosing a path.” “Will you help me with that?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Of course I will.” Twilight pulled her into a quick hug. “And I think, in a few days when you’ve had a chance to study the light-speed dash a bit more, we should head to the outskirts of Ponyville and give it a proper trial run there.” “Sounds good to me.” Rainbow Dash returned the hug.