Manehattan was the city that never slept, but Ponyville was the town that always smiled. Anywhere Lightning Dust flew, she saw ponies playing in the park, playing in the street, or passing casual conversations about their day as they went shopping. Every pony seemed to have what they wanted.
Every creature, Lightning Dust corrected herself. It was still a bit weird to her. Tempest seemed fine with it, but she spent the latter half of her childhood outside Equestria and already said “anyone” or “everyone” when non-ponies were around. Honestly, it was kind of annoying.
She was supposed to be an ex-villain, a former invader of Equestria. How in the world was she so used to being around different creatures? Dragons and yaks and hippogriffs were all fine creatures. Even Changelings had proven they were good. It just took time to get used to, that was all.
As she started on her last lap around Ponyville’s skies, Lightning Dust flew over the main marketplace in town. It was near the spa, and a lot of the students from the School of Friendship spent their afternoons and weekends in the area just to hang out. This new school year had a lot of big changes, or so she heard from Starlight.
Apparently, more creatures were hearing about the young heroes from the schools, the student who were non-ponies but helped save Equestria. Two yaks walked out of the spa, their hair was done up in traditional yak braids but with pony-made hair dyes. Dragons played rough through the street, with some unicorn students putting a barrier around them to keep the action away from fruit stalls.
Everyone had the life they wanted. Except for her. Being the best competitive flier took more effort than anything else. Perfect form, perfect conditioning, perfect health, they all needed to be managed to have a shot at the Equestria Games. Lightning Dust came to a cloud ring she set up to mark her course and made a hard turn. She fought the force of lift acting on her wings, keeping delicate control as she flapped harder to pick up speed.
Most fliers slowed down on the turn, but that added seconds of time by the end of the race. She had to keep her speed up until the very last moment. The very last inch of space before the turn would come, and then she would turn. And then. And then...
And then Lightning’s wing cramped up, her back muscles felt like they were on fire and refused to listen. Suddenly all her forced turned against her and she went from flying to gliding, and then eventually to ungraceful falling. She only managed to angle herself towards a lake outside of Ponyville before she splashed down to the surface.
“Pfbleh!” she spat as she swam back to shore. She could tell her wing was too sore from the cramp to continue flying, but rather than take it as a sign that she needed rest, Lightning Dust only got madder.
“Stupid turn, I almost had it too.” She mumbled her way into some reclining seats by the lake and lied down. She wanted to get back up in the sky as soon as possible, but that meant having to sit still and let her wing recover.
She was so tired, she barely noticed the rustling in the bushes behind her.
“Woah! That was some crash--”
Lightning’s ears stuck up at a familiar voice. A young filly’s voice. She jumped out of her seat and stood on guard immediately, turning to face the source.
Scootaloo stood, her jaw hanging open and her brows upturned in a worried curve. “L-Lightning Dust? W-what are you doing in Ponyville?”
Seeing her face, Lightning Dust relaxed. “Nothing kid, just doing some flight practice, that’s all. What are you doing out here?”
“Oh, um,” Scootaloo hesitated, “I was just testing out some new wheels on my scooter.” She waved it around. The wooden base and handle were worn down, but the wheels were brand-new with off-road treading.
“That’s pretty cool,” Lightning said as she stretched out her wing.
“Really, you think so?” Her tail started flicking with excitement. But Lightning recognized a second look flash across her face. “Um… you’re not going to ask me to fly on a rocket again, are you? I still think your stunts are cool, but, I know you don’t care about safety, so I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
“What?” Lightning’s face scrunched up.
“Rainbow Dash said you’re really desperate right now,” she explained, “so she told me not to go near you, in case you tried anything dangerous.”
“How responsible of her.” Lightning Dust muttered through gritted teeth. “What makes her think I’m desperate?”
Scootaloo looked around at the dirt. “Well, she said you were homeless for a while, you had to accept help and stay in your rival’s house, and that you have anger issues. Also, she didn’t say to me, but when we were hanging out at the Apple family farm I also heard her telling AJ she thinks you’re just mad you haven’t had sex in a while.”
“Se-” Lightning Dust recoiled. “I take back everything I said about Dash being responsible! Why is she talking about stuff like that around a kid your age?”
Scootaloo raised her brow. “I don’t get it. Isn’t it just something adult do when they’re married?”
“Well,” Lightning Dust looked away, “they don’t have to be married. But that doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t be hearing adults talk about that stuff.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Scootaloo frowned, “I mean, I know foals have to come from somewhere. Just because I’m a kid--”
Lightning Dust stood up. “I can’t believe this is where I’m at in my life. I’m not talking about this with you.”
She started trotting back to town along a hiking trail. Just because her wing was overworked didn’t mean she couldn’t work on her cardio. Trailing close behind her, Scootaloo followed on her scooter. Lightning tried keeping her pace faster than the filly, but her wing beats pushed her surprisingly fast.
“So, why would not having sex make you upset?” Scootaloo asked her once they passed through a copse of orange-leafed trees.
“Can you stop saying se--” Lightning Dust caught herself. It was just too awkward talking about it to a kid. “Look, if you’re gonna ask, just say ‘doing it’ instead, okay?”
“Okay…” Scootaloo stared at Lightning for a second, trying to guess what was going on in her head. If you just called it something else, what did that change? But, since it made her feel better, she listened. “Why would not ‘doing it’ upset you?”
“First of all, that’s none of Dash’s business,” Lightning sped up her pace. “Second of all, that’s just what Dash thinks. I’m only mad because she got in my way and ruined my career!”
They passed out of the trees where the edge of Ponyville could be seen not too far away. Lightning realized she was running harder than she wanted, and talking messed up her breathing rhythm. A breeze sweeping up the autumn leaves felt cool against her coat, and before she knew it, she was sitting down at the top of a short grassy hill.
“Rainbow Dash was just protecting her friends.” Scootaloo parked her scooter and sat down next to Lightning Dust. “After you left, she told me the whole story about what happened at the academy. I don’t think she did anything wrong. Wouldn’t you try to save one of the Washouts if their stunt went wrong?”
“Well, of course, but--” Lightning realized it was hard to pinpoint the words to say how she felt. “It’s… that’s… that’s not the problem. Okay, fine! I know I made a mistake. Happy? I said it. She was the hero and I messed up. But I didn’t even get a second chance. We were wing-ponies, she could’ve stuck up for me when the Wonderbolts kicked me out. But she didn’t even give me a chance to prove myself.”
“And that’s what you’re still angry about?”
Lightning Dust crossed her hooves. “No. That’s what taught me that you can’t count on any pony else. The best thing to do is to go it alone.”
“But the Washouts-”
“Oh, Dash didn’t mention it?” Lightning snapped. “I had to crash at her place because I washed out of the Washouts. That rocket stunt gave us a bad name, wherever we went. So they kicked me out and told every pony they were ‘under new management.’”
“No, Rainbow Dash didn’t tell me any of that. I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Lightning Dust hung her head. “Great, now the kid I strapped to a rocket is feeling sorry for me.”
“I do have one question, though,” Scootaloo said. “If every pony you knew left you behind, then aren’t you the common factor?”
“What are you trying to say?” Lightning snarled.
“Well, I think if you stopped blaming other ponies, the only pony you left to hate is yourself. I used to kind of be like that. I used to think my wings would eventually grow, like other pegasi. And when they didn’t, the only pony I thought I could blame was myself.”
There was nothing but honesty in those words. The kind of close-to-the-heart truth that you couldn’t ignore, because that pony’s entire being was laid bare. Lightning Dust, for once, didn’t have something she wanted to say back. She only wanted to listen.
“My friends supported me every time I tried flying, so I thought I was letting them down when I couldn’t. One time, we were trying out for the opening ceremony to represent Ponyville at the Equestria Games. I wanted to quit since I couldn’t fly, and when my friends let me, I started to get mad. I wanted to blame them for expecting me to do something I couldn’t.”
Scootaloo looked right into Lightning’s eyes. “That’s what you’re mad about, right? Whatever the problem, it has to be at some pony else’s fault. Well, for me, it passed pretty quickly. Once they came back for me, I knew the only pony with expectations for me was myself.”
She pawed at the dirt in the grass, drawing out the Wonderbolt symbol. “It’s good to have expectations, but you can’t let those dreams ruin your friendships when you trip a little on the way. Sure, maybe Rainbow Dash could’ve helped you. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but even she’s not perfect. But, you were the one who put her friends in danger. Like me. The Washouts wouldn’t have kicked you out if it wasn’t for what you did.”
The image replayed in Lightning’s head, this time from Scootaloo’s perspective. Damn, that rocket was pretty big. Lightning Dust counted the houses on one of the Ponyville streets. How many houses long was that jump? Not only could that rocket have ruined Scootaloo’s life, but just being on it must’ve been terrifying.
“Hey, you know I’m sorry for that, right?” She told Scootaloo. “I shouldn’t have let you do that. I think…” she drew in a deep breath, “I think I started putting all my insecurities on Dash again. Proving I could do what she thought was too dangerous was just my way of pushing away those feelings. I’m sorry you had to get caught up in that.”
“Aw, it’s no biggie,” Scootaloo said. “It was a cool stunt, though the multi-stage rocket was a bit overkill.”
Lightning Dust chuckled. “Yeah. Hey, you know what? Starlight was right, you’re pretty good at this stuff. No wonder you’re a tutor at that school of hers.”
As the sun peaked and the morning workout was officially over, Lightning Dust felt a moment of change fall upon her as the day shifted into its later half. The sign came in the form of Scootaloo’s wonder-filled pupils.
“You know Headmare Starlight?”
Even if she understood what was about to happen, it could not have been stopped. Lightning Dust’s mouth worked as if on autopilot.
“Of course, we’re in Luna’s band together.”
Scootaloo, as if witnessing Lightning Dust crash for a second time, went slack-jawed. “As in the Nightmare Knights? Headmare Starlight’s one of Luna’s Knights?”
“You mean you didn’t know?” Lightning Dust tilted her head, getting a feeling as if she was missing out on something. “She’s the lead guitarist, she was right next to Luna when we performed in Canterlot.”
“What?” Scootaloo jumped off the hill and snatched up her scooter. “I have to tell some pony. That’s just too awesome. I have to tell… who should I tell?” A moment of hesitation passed before she gasped and jumped right into Lightning’s face.
Scootaloo hopped about with a dumb grin. “I think I have to tell every pony.”
And then she rode off, the temperate autumn sun warming her as she blew through the nippy breeze. Lightning Dust stood and watched, though she was otherwise disoriented and confused. Why would Starlight not tell any of her… Lightning’s ears drooped as she finally remembered why it was like a well-kept secret.
Because it was supposed to be a well-kept secret.