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// Chapter 4: Suspision 
// Story: Stroke of Luck 
// by Gboyd 
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'Every person, family member, close friend will always be cautious of others. Never trust someone completely.' - Ann Marie

"Dash!" Spitfire sighed. She peered around the corner, only to see Soarin' and Fleetfoot. Spitfire eyed them. "Where's Crash?" she inquired. Soarin and Fleetfoot shared a look. Fleetfoot shrugged. 
"You been out of the loop, Spit?" Soarin asked. "Dash left for Ponyville this morning. You gave her a break, remember?"
Spitfire sighed again. How could she have forgotten? Spitfire rolled her eyes at the now empty bed Dash usually occupied. Even though the new rookie still drove them crazy at times, the 'Bolts wouldn't trade her for any other promising pegasus on Equus. She really was a great asset to the team. 
Spitfire didn't mind Dash running to some extreme mission or other when Princess Twilight needed her. After all, Dash had her own life to live. She wasn't like Spitfire, who's whole existence revolved around Equestria's greatest ariel flight team. Still, HQ just wasn't the same without her. Spitfire had grown rather fond of her witty attitude and slight ego. It was nice to have someone who could spar with Fleetfoot on an equal level. 
"Right.... " she muttered, but Soarin and Fleetfoot had returned to their conversation. Spitfire trudged over, letting her ears pick up bits and pieces of the chatter across the locker room. 
"...... Maybe she's gone off on another Friendship Mission?" Fleetfoot suggested. Spitfire almost rolled her eyes. Friendship Mission. Honestly, the name was kinda cheesy. Princess Twilight may be in charge of the whole thing, it being her gig to spread friendship across Equestria and the lands beyond, but couldn't she have at least come up with a better name? Spitfire tuned back into the conversation. 
Soarin scoffed. "Really? I think she just wants to rest." Fleetfoot playfully pushed him in the chest. 
"Right, because Crash tells you verything huh, loverboy?" Soarin colored slightly. Fleetfoot rolled her eyes and shoved her dirty towel in the hamper, then turned to her own locker, hands clasped. For a fleeting moment, she looked like the little girl she'd once been. "Wonder what it's like?" she mused. Soarin slammed his locker shut. 
"Like to what?" 
"To go on one of those missions. What they encounter." Fleetfoot fluttered into the air. "Imagine the dangers they must face. To see Dash kick some monster butt." She dropped to ground abruptly, serious; all signs of her daydream gone. She turned to Soarin with an inquisitive gaze. "I've always wanted to see Princess Twilight shoot some kind of spell. You know, something epic."
Soarin chugged a bottle. "You have."
"When?"
"The Summer Sun Celebration. Eight years ago. Remember? It was after those crazy vines nearly ate up Ponyville. She did some kind of stunt between the moon and the sun, mid-rise."
Fleetfoot brushed it off. "Nag. That wouldn't count. I wanna see her blast away some evil. Or even see her wield the Elements! Wouldn't that be cool?"
Soarin shrugged. "I guess."
"Oh come on. Imagine it. All those rainbow colors swirling around you. They say it's extremely powerful." Fleetfoot gave a delighted shiver. "To see it swirling across my skin; the raw power rushing through my veins...." She froze. "Although, now that I think about it, I don't think I could handle it. You realize, all the times they've saved Equestria, no one has ever really even once seen them actually wield the Elements? Everyone witnessed it when Princess Celestia did it." 
Spitfire shrugged. "To each their own."
Soarin and Fleetfoot filed out, still talking. Spitfire closed her locker and noticed another locker still cracked open from across the room. Knowing the rules of privacy, and Precision Wisp's 'rituals' for cleanliness, she made to close the locker. Before she could, something colorful peeked out at her. Opening it all the way, Spitfire was greeted with Dash's gala uniform hanging on rungs below her shelf beside her jacket. A flash of gold caught her eye from the left, and Spitfire pushed the jacket aside to reveal a gold choker necklace. Curiosity spiked, and knowing Dash really wasn't the type to wear jewelry, Spitfire unhooked the clasp and held it in her hands. It was a simple gold band. A tiny, six-pointed star ameythist was set in the middle. Princess Twilight's emblem. 'Huh,' she thought. 'Odd.' She shrugged and looked up. A small duffle bag sat on the shelf, alongside Dash's certificates and awards. Behind the duffle bag, Spitfire saw her reflection. She reached in there and pulled out a small hand mirror. One corner was worn and cracked from years use. The material holding the mirror together on the back rustled, and Spitfire flipped it around. It wasn't matrial, it was pictures. 
Windy Whistles and Bow Hothoof stood beside a two-year-old Dash holding her first trophy, proudly displaying the award to the camera with a huge smile. A smile missing a tooth. Despite herself and her tough side, Spitfire couldn't help but smile. Another picture presented a teenage Dash mussing up her father's hair, her mother laughing in the background. And on and on they went. Dash signing autographs to excited fans with her fellow Wonderbolts. Dash caught hugging a tortoise. Dash flying alongside a little pegasus girl Spitfire was sure she'd seen somewhere before. Dash with her friends. Spitfire paused.
Princess Twilight was on the side, her smile lighting up the entire picture. She looked so different that what Spitfire had seen before. Gone was the big, fancy regalia and crown. The royal posture. Here, Spitfire saw a girl just relaxed to be there with her friends. Spitfire stared at the photo stunned. She absentmindedly traced one finger alongside the pictures edge. She had never seen royalty without their bling, and had always wondered why Dash addressed Princess Twilight as just plain 'Twi' or 'Twilight'. Now she knew. Of course, Dash mentioned they were friends, but Spitfire never really considered just how close they were.
No wonder Dash always rushed off to Ponyville whenever she could. If Spitfire had friends like that....   She looked back at the picture. 
Dash was hugging the princess tightly, showing off the lavender wings. According to the date, this must have been taken sometime after the princess's coronation. And by the look of the picture, it was obviously Dash's favorite. It was dog-eared and worn. Spitfire put everything back and shut the door. Rainbow Dash. Spitfire smiled, thinking of the name. Now she had a new reason to like the Wonderbolts newest rookie. 
***
Canterlot. The city of prestige, wealth, royalty, and success. A place where every dreaming designer, artist, and athlete dreams of living. After all, you'd be living right next to the princess. Life can't any better that, can it? But for a young woman named Lily Sapphire Rose Rich, Canterlot was just home. Her mansion, was just a house, and all attention she received and the privileges she possesses were just perks. Because she had plans. Big plans. But those plans would have to come into play later. 
Right now, she had to get through the week first. It was summer vacation for Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, and as far she knew, all her friends had escaped to the ice-cream shop down the street. Not her. She was stuck in her room. Packing. Why? Her  dad just HAD to leave on the first day, didn't he? 
Lily groaned, slapping another outfit on top of the towering pile of clothes, which was dangerously teetering to the left. And that was another thing. Why did SHE have to do the packing? They had servants, didn't they? Well, if you could call the tremebling pimple-stricken, eye-glasses nerd in the doorway a servant to who stuttered like his life depended on it. 
Lily scoffed and pointed a finger. "What are you standing around for? Take my luggage to the carriage." The servant, or as her mother liked to call him, 'My daughter's butler', gulped. Lily raised an eyebrow. "Well?" she demanded. The shivering teen raised an objective finger. "B-but M-mis-s, d-don't you t-think that's t-too--" 
"Of course it's not too much, you idiot!" Lily snapped. "It's just a small load." The 'small' load consisted of ten trunks stuffed to the brim with who knows what, along with two hand-bags whos stitches were working really hard to keep everything in place. Lily silded up to him, her voice suddenly sickeningly sweet. "Oh, but I'm sure a man such as yourself can handle it." She drew a finger down his chest as she spoke, causing his pale face to turn many a shade of red. "You can handle it, right?" Lily side-stepped him, snickering inwardly as he put a very shaky hand up to his forehead with a goofy smile, as if saluting her. "Y-yes, ma'am!" 
Lily gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, then raced down the stairs as fast as she could. Honestly, young men his age were SO easy to manipulate. 
Lily made it through the grand hall, avoiding servants and bumping into maids, and found herself in the parlor, tapping her foot.
After about five minutes of waiting, Lily's patience ran out. "Mother!" she called. "Come on!" 
Lily's father raised an eyebrow in disapproval at her, but otherwise didn't say anything. Lily rolled her eyes. Her father, Patented Gold, was one of Princess Celestia's advisors. He worked with Equestria's top agents and did many service commissions for the country. But you would never guess his work by the way he looked. Patented Gold was something out a novel, what with his white gloves and perfectly manicured hair and all his little excessories. He was very traditional, a sculpture straight from the Rising Era. 
"Coming, darling, I'm coming." Her mother, all frills and curls came clacking down the hall, holding her most likely powdered hair in place. 
Her mother, Chrysanthemum Dazzle, was an artist, and everything about her showed it. From her hand-stiched shoes to her carefully styled hair, she was the epitome of perfection. Her mother was first noticed by the Princess herself, after seeing a well-done painting of one of Equestria's folk-lore legends. 
After a few hours of losing patience, yelling at the servants for their 'incompetence', as her father put it, they were off. 
Lily stared glumly out of the carriage window, ignoring the constant shaking the buggy was under. Her father sat beside her, hands folded crisply in his lap, head lying back against the headrest, eyes closed. 
Small, white clouds of powder came from the other end of the buggy, where her mother was busy primping again. 
Lily groaned and slumped back. Her mother peered out at her from behind her compact mirror, features twisting in mild disapproval. "Do stop slouching. You're not in bed." 
Lily rolled her eyes. "Where are we going anyway?" 
Her mother patted some blush on her cheeks. "Why to visit your uncle and cousins in Ponyville of course!" 
Lily only heard the last part and frantically sat up, heart racing. Ponyville? They were leaving the richest city in the world for some water-hick town in the middle of nowhere!? "What!?" she shrieked. "You made me leave my friends for....  For a dirt street with a couple of houses!?" 
Her father gave her a glare. "Lily, calm yourself," he commanded. Lily didn't hear him. Her mother gazed at her. 
"I thought you would be excited, dear. That's where the Princess of Friendship lives. You know? Twilight Sparkle, your old childhood friend?"
Lily let her head bang against the headrest, ignoring the slight headache it gave her. They were going to Ponyville. To visit her most hated nemesis. Could this day get any worse?