When other ponies talked about Cloudsdale, most were surprised to find that Cloudsdale had a cemetary. It wasn’t like the cemeteries based on the ground that earth ponies and unicorns used. Fleetfoot always found that fact interesting.
From the funerals of earth ponies and unicorns, she had found that those groups mostly preferred burials and coffins. Being a pegasus, the idea of spending eternity in a coffin shocked her.
After a pegasus died, it was tradition for them to be cremated. Then their ashes would be released, letting them take one last flight before they moved on to… whatever came after life. That very thought sent a shudder down Fleetfoot’s back. She didn’t like thinking about death.
The cemetary was dotted with markers, made of enchanted materials like stone and wood, and in many shapes and sizes. They bore the names of those that passed on, who spread their wings and faded away into the sky they loved. Or something, Fleetfoot scoffed. She always thought it just sounded… sappy.
Fleetfoot wandered through the cemetery, making her way through the paths in between the gravestones. She was dressed in her formal uniform, a deep blue dress coat over a light blue shirt, complete with a row of medals over her heart and a white, black brimmed hat on her head.
She stopped in front of three large monuments near the cloud cemetary’s edge. A frown formed on her muzzle. She had been here when the first was constructed, and she returned when the second was built. And now there were three.
The funeral itself passed quickly for her. She didn’t remember much of it, other than it was like all the other funerals she had been to. The pegasi had two ceremonies: one traditional one with a wake, eulogies, and remembrance speeches, and the ceremonial release of the ashes. The last flight, it was called. She had learned all of this at her first funeral, that of her mother’s.
A chill ran down her spine as she approached the crowd gathered in front of the monuments. There were pegasi dressed in black suits and dresses, and dotted in the crowd were deep blue uniforms, the same as the one she wore.
Avoiding eye contact, she made her way to the base of the monuments. Each monument bore the same inscription, the Wonderbolts’ motto. “Who flies, lives. Who lives, dares. And who dares, wins,” she said to herself.
“Please, I’ve heard enough of that for a lifetime.” Fleetfoot’s ear twitched as a gravelly voice chuckled from behind her.
She turned around to see an ever familiar orange pegasus, dressed smartly in uniform with ehr eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.
“Spitfire,” Fleetfoot said. “Nice to see you.”
The mare nodded in response. “Same to you. Wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Don’t we always,” she replied, turning back to the monument.
Spitfire walked to her side, following her gaze. “Well, I hate to say it, but you can’t say we didn’t see this coming.”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” Fleetfoot asked, sighing in frustration. “That everypony just expects to die?”
Spitfire shrugged. “Maybe, deep down.”
Before Fleetfoot could protest, another voice from her right chimed in. “Spits, since when do you philosophy?” Another uniformed pegasus apperered, with a white coat and blue mane. “Hey, Fleety!”
After all these years, Fleetfoot grumbled to herself, Soarin’ still loved butchering names.
“Hello to you too, Soarin’.”
The pegasus fired off a quick salute, touching his hoof to the brim of his hat. “But seriously, why are you guys talking about philosophy and stuff?”
“We’re not,” Fleetfoot snapped back. “I was just asking what Spitfire was saying.”
Spitfire sighed, adjusting her sunglasses. “I was just saying that when you get old enough, death just becomes a part of life.”
Soarin’ nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
“How?” Fleetfoot rubbed her eyes. “How does it make sense? How can you guys just be okay with death?”
Spitfire lay a hoof on her shoulder. “Listen. You can be scared of death. I am, Soarin’ is, everyone is. But it’s a part of life, even if it’s the end of it. Let me ask you this. If we lived forever, would we do anything?”
Fleetfoot blinked at the question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that if you knew that you were going to live forever, why would you do anything at all? Now, some of us don’t do anything anyways,” she continued as she shot a glare at Soarin’, “But for most of us, we do what we do because we’re not around forever.”
“You and your philosophy,” Soarin’ said with a roll of his eyes.
Spitfire punched him in the shoulder. “The fact of the matter is that we’re not here forever. That’s what I’ve told recruits again and again. The minute we’re born, we’re running out of time.”
Fleetfoot just sighed. “Why are you telling me this?”
“You looked like you needed to hear it.”
The mare snorted. “Great. Now I feel worse about myself.”
“Aw, cheer up!” She winced as Soarin gave her a hug. “Don’t let Spitfire’s fancy words scare you.”
Soarin ignored the glare Spitfire gave him through her glasses. “I’m not trying to scare you,” she said. “I’m just telling you what I believe. And I believe that life’s too short no matter what we do. There isn’t enough time in the world for us to do everything we want.”
“You want to know what I think,” Soarin asked, releasing Fleetfoot from the hug.
“Not really,” she muttered.
“I think that if you spend your whole life worrying about when things end, you’re never going to get anywhere! Like eating a pie!”
Both mares rolled their eyes. “Of course you’d make that connection,” Fleetfoot muttered.
“No, hear me out! Life’s like eating a pie. You know that eventually you’re going to run out of pie, but if you just stay really sad because you’re going to run out of pie, then you miss the joy of eating the pie!” Soarin stood proudly with that, a wide smile on his face.
Spitfire just chuckled, shaking her head sadly. “Can’t get his mind off of pie for one second.”
Any other time Fleetfoot would have laughed, but something was still bothering her. It felt just like old times, where they would sit in the captain’s office after practice, cracking jokes and mocking the new recruits. “How are you guys so calm at a time like this?”
Spitfire’s face hardened. “It comes with the job, Fleet. I thought you would have learned that by now.”
Soarin’s goofy grin faded. “Yeah, Fleety. Trust us, we know what you’re going to. We were there too.”
With a defeated sigh, Fleetfoot lowered her head. They did have a point. “Right, sorry. I’m just… having a hard time-”
She felt two hooves, one on each shoulder. “Trust us,” Spitfire said, her gravelly voice softening. “We know.”
A tear fell from Fleetfoot’s face, disappearing into the cloud under her. “Does it get easier?”
“No,” Soarin’ answered. “It never does. And moving on and letting go doesn’t come easier either. Every one hits harder than the last.”
Spitfire nodded in agreement. “Fleet, I could tell you what I told Soarin’ when I gave him the reigns all those years ago. That the job is hard and that it messes you up. That you see the best of your team and the worst of them, and that you’ll learn to be hated. I could weave up some stupid story to tell you where everything works out fine in the end.”
“But it won’t matter,” Soarin’ finished. “Because that’s exactly the same thing I told you when you became captain. But no matter what they think of you, you’re still their friend and their still your team. And that’s why every loss will hurt. But it’s good, because it means you care. If you lose someone and don’t care...” Soarin’ shuddered as he trailed off.
“It’s like falling,” Spitfire said. “When we learn to fly, we’re scared to fall. But even after we fly, we’re still scared to fall. That fear is always there, isn’t it? Especially for the Wonderbolts. But we still fly We don’t let a fear of falling stop us.”
“Yeah… I guess. I guess you’re right.” Fleetfoot dried her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “Sorry,” she heard herself say.
“It’s not wrong to cry at a funeral,” Spitfire chuckled. “But you know what always helps? A flight.”
A flight sounded good right about now, Fleetfoot thought. A chance to spread her wings and set her mind free.
Soarin’ seemed to agree, his ears perking up. “Yeah! Come on Fleety, let’s go flying!”
Before she could respond, something caught her eye. The group of ponies was moving away from the three tombstones and headed to the edge of the cloud. The crowd broke, allowing three ponies to advance to the cloud’s edge. A smile fell upon her muzzle. “You guys go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll be right there. There’s something I have to do first.”
Fleetfoot set off, weaving through the crowd until she ended up near the front. She watched as the three ponies turned to face the crowd. Two were wearing the same dress blues that dotted the crowd. The first, a rainbow maned pegasus, shuffled nervously. Her eyes never left the urn that lay on the cloud by her hooves.
“You ready, Cap?” The second pony of the group, a black and white pegasus, gently nudged her.
Failing to elicit a response, the third pony, a non-uniformed purple pony, cleared her throat. “Rainbow?”
Rainbow Dash blinked, then adjusted her cap. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Ready.”
Her hesitation made Fleefloot shake her head and chuckle. It wasn’t like the carefree pegasus to be nervous, but who was she to judge? She hadn’t been much better when she led the ceremony.
The third gave a small nod. “Okay. Captain Dash, Lieutenant Thunderlane, shall we proceed?”
Thunderlane nodded, but Rainbow hesitated again. “Uh… Sorry, Twi. It’s just-”
Twilight Sparkle raised a hoof, silencing her friend. “It’s fine, Rainbow. You need to let go. Everyone here does, that’s why we’re here.”
Rainbow took a deep breath, still staring at the urn by her hooves. “I know that. But it’s hard, you know?”
Twilight lay a comforting hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “Rainbow,-”
“I remember her,” Rainbow said aloud. “I remember that day, walking onto the stage and shaking her hoof. I remember her looking into my eyes and smiling as she said, ‘Congratulations Captain.’ And I remember everything she told me about being captain and, and… And I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Hey. She knew what she was doing,” Twilight said. “She made you lieutenant, didn’t she? She could have picked anybody, but she picked you. She believes in you, Rainbow, and look around.” The mare waved a hoof over the crowd. “She’s still here, with us. In us. We’ll carry on her legacy.” She pointed to the three monuments. “We’ll remember her, just like we remembered Spitfire and Soarin’.”
Rainbow closed her eyes, dropping her head. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s gone, just like they were. Twi, does loss get any easier?”
“I can’t say that it does, Rainbow,” Twilight replied sadly.
Rainbow finally looked up. Her eyes scanned the crowd, seeing the familiar ponies in suits, dresses, and uniforms. Then, she nodded. “Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Let’s do this.”
A hush fell over the entire cemetery as Twilight picked up the urn in her magic. She raised the urn until it was eye level with Rainbow. Rainbow and Thunderlane took a step back and saluted. The uniformed pegasi in the crowd returned the motion, tears in some of their eyes.
“Okay Captain Fleetfoot,” Twilight said gently. “Time for one last flight.”
Rainbow turned to the crowd and nodded. “Who Flies, Lives. Who Lives, Dares. And Who Dares, Wins,” the uniformed pegasi shouted.
Twilight closed her eyes, doing a quick calculation to take account for the wind. She opened the jar and floated the urn over to the edge of the cloud. “Celestia be with you,” she whispered. The urn tilted, and the ashes flew off into the breeze.
From somewhere behind her, she heard Spitfire’s gravelly voice calling out to her. “Come on, Fleet. Skies are waiting.”
“We don’t have all day,” Soarin’ chimed in. “You coming or not?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Fleetfoot smiled, bliss filling her. She walked over to the edge of the cloud, staring up at the endless horizons above her. She pulled her cap down so the brim was over her eyes and turned around. The crowd of ponies was talking now, turning their eyes away from the cloud and back to the monuments. Nopony was looking in her direction, except for Rainbow Dash. The new captain stared blankly at her as she stood unmoving.
With a broad smile, Fleetfoot saluted her. Rainbow blinked and saluted back, not completely aware of what she was doing. “Thank you,” Fleetfoot whispered. She reared up on her hind legs as the noise died around her. Finding her balance, she looked up one last time and closed her eyes. Fighting the urge to spread her wings, she leaned back. And she fell.
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End.