//------------------------------//
// Does the Mark Make the Pony? 
// Story: The Cloudsdale Chronicles 
// by Boltstrike58 
//------------------------------//

Swift Wing had become indifferent to the incessant flapping of pegasus wings around him. He kept his own beating as hard as he could, flying in the same circle as the others, creating the familiar whirlpool of air, mist collecting in the middle of the flying pegasi, coming together to form yet another cloud. Swift panted, having not had any water since his break ended, but he kept up the effort, collecting the ambient moisture in the air until the cloud was fully formed.  

This was a task he'd performed many times, though not as much as some of the others. He hadn't been working at the weather factory for very long, and as a result, his superiors hadn't decided what he was best suited for yet, so they had him switching between jobs from day to day. Today, he was part of the cloud creation team, responsible for forming new clouds before bringing them back to the main factory, where they would be shipped wherever they needed to go in Equestria. Swift still didn't fully understand the complexities of the weather controlling system, but he was starting to pick up on the basics. At least it was easier to understand than the meteorology back home.

When the cloud was completed, Swift broke off from the others, swooping down to the cloud itself. He pressed his front hooves against the side of it, feeling his appendages sink into the surface. Clouds had always felt strange to him, like some kind of organic pillow mixed with cotton candy. He shrugged those thoughts off, knowing they weren't important, as he pushed the cloud back over to the weather factory, where a large, metallic funnel stuck out on the side. Swift shoved the cloud into the funnel, where it was immediately sucked downward, disappearing from sight. The cloud would be placed alongside an inspection line, where it would be inspected to ensure it was solid enough, before being sent off.

Swift heard a clapping of hooves. "Great job, everypony! That's a wrap!"

The blue-manned pegasus turned, finding his supervisor, Cumulonimbus, applauding their efforts. Swift and the others smiled through their exhaustion from the day's work. Cumulonimbus, an ice-white pegasus with an electric-blue mane, was a pretty tough taskmaster, but still kind enough to congratulate her workers when they actually did their job properly. Swift appreciated her better attributes, even as this work wore out his wings. 

As it was, that was the last cloud needed for the day, and Swift's shift was finally over. Across the sky, Celestia's sun was beginning its descent, bathing the world in a vivid mix of orange and yellow. Swift settled down on a nearby cloud, taking in the sight of Equestria's beautiful sky. Maybe it was euphoria of being in a completely different world talking, but things in Equestria always managed to seem more vibrant than they'd been back home. Or perhaps he'd simply never taken the time to notice them on Earth. He supposed it didn't matter.

The rest of the weather workers plopped down on to the clouds beside Swift, Gentle Breeze on his right, and Thunder Snow on his left. Swift felt a brief flash of pity for the latter, glancing at the other stallion's Cutie Mark, a snowstorm with lightning bolts. He imagined that particular weather pattern wasn't in very high demand.

"Alright, ponies!" called out Cumulonimbus, immediately drawing everypony's attention, "you did a lot of good work today, but there's always room for improvement. Rainy Day, you were going a little fast there, try to keep a rhythmic pace with the others. Wind Chill, cool it with the flips, you're throwing off some of others. Swift Wing, you're improving, but keep doing those wing exercises I've told you about, at least for now. We may end up assigning you to a different sector again tomorrow."

Swift nodded. The feeling of improvement, even at a task that was relatively menial, made him feel good. He was no employee of the month, but he was doing his best every day at work and—

Don't bother. They'll just throw you out once they see what a screw-up you are.

Swift flinched. There were the thoughts again, plaguing him every time anything remotely happy occurred. He'd gotten used to hearing them, but that didn't mean he was numb to the feelings they instilled. His ears visibly drooped a little, and his head sank. Of course they wouldn't even let him have this.

Gentle Breeze noticed her fellow pegasus' changed demeanor. "You okay there, Swift?" she asked, gently prodding his side with her wing.  

"I'm fine." The repeated and rehearsed line came out of Swift's mouth without much effort on his part. He might as well have those words in quotes for a Cutie Mark. Swift took a moment to glance jealously at the wisps of wind adorning Gentle Breeze's flank. If somebody had told him that one day his greatest desire would be for a magical tattoo to appear on his body, he would've asked where their lobotomy scars were.

The very idea of a Cutie Mark seemed to be taunting him nowadays. Nopony at this job knew he didn't have one—he constantly covered up his flank with a pair of pants he'd bought—but that didn't make him feel any less ashamed. Sure, humans didn't have Cutie Marks, but he wasn't exactly human anymore. To him, having a Cutie Mark was a sort of affirmation, something that said you'd found your place in the world, something that declared to the world "I can do this!" Yet when he'd come to this world, he'd found his flank bare. Perhaps he'd been pinning too much of his hope on getting a mark and discovering his purpose upon becoming a pony, but it still stung. In a sick sort of way, it made sense. He didn't know who he was as a human, and he didn't know who he was as a pony.

Cumulonimbus had been talking some more, but Swift hadn't been listening. He was brought back to reality by the mare clapping her hooves again, saying, "Good-night, everypony!" The pegasi began walking or flying back towards the main area of the weather factory to collect their stuff and go home. Swift Wing tailed behind the others, alone.





Swift trotted down the lane of the Cloudsdale street, his hooves making a soft squishing sound each time they touched down on the fluffy surface. He could've flown to his destination, but had decided against doing so, wanting to give his wings a rest after all the work they'd done today. Besides, Cloudsdale didn't have many real air traffic laws (pegasi thought that controlling the airspace was unnecessarily cruel), and there was always the chance of collision. It was a bit like driving had been back home, only the collisions were fatal less often. There were Flying Under the Influences laws, though alcohol and drugs were far less prevalent than they had been on Earth.

Cloudsdale wasn't much like Ponyville. Where Ponyville's population consisted mostly of Earth ponies, yet had ponies of all three tribes dotted around, Cloudsdale was almost entirely pegasi, though there was the occasional griffon or hippogriff. The other species had likely moved in after the School of Friendship had done wonders for Equestria's immigration. There were also a handful of unicorns, which were vital to the city's function. They placed permanent cloud-walking spells onto everyday objects, such as food or appliances, so that they didn't plummet down to the ground, even as they had to re-cast the spell on themselves every few days (the permanent spell couldn't be cast on living beings). Earth pony visitors showed up from time to time, but Swift had yet to see one actually live in the town.

Another interesting thing about Cloudsdale was that its location tended to vary. Sure, the city was made out of extra-dense clouds that had been enchanted by unicorn spells so that they didn't crumble apart in the wind, but they were still clouds. Being clouds, they tended to drift in the wind. Cloudsdale's exact location varied by a few meters, depending on the wind, though it wasn't enough that one would miss the city if they were looking for it. Of course, since ponies controlled all the weather, and Cloudsdale was the primary weather factory, sometimes the entire city had to be briefly moved to the proper location. When that was required, the entire staff of the weather factory would push Cloudsdale across the sky (it was made of clouds, after all) to wherever it needed to go. Swift hadn't been part of such an event yet, but he figured he would be. Assuming he stayed here, of course.

Swift quietly sighed to himself. Part of him wanted to just ditch Cloudsdale like he had Ponyville, but the rational aspect of his brain quickly chimed in, reminding him that it wouldn't do any good, and he only wanted to leave because he was afraid of something he couldn't even properly verbalize. He was frustrated, unsure of what he wanted to do with his life as a pony, beyond the vague goal of getting a Cutie Mark. He figured it had to be possible. If people from the Equestria girls dimension had Cutie Marks appear on the bodies when they came to this world in Spring Breakdown, there didn't seem to be a reason why he couldn't get one. But he had no idea how to go about doing so.

They just had them appear. You didn't. You know why, don't you? You're such a loser that—

Swift angrily slapped himself in the face, trying to pound the thoughts into submission. He didn't have time for this.

Thinking it over, he realized that the show didn't provide that much information on exactly how Cutie Marks worked. Swift needed more information. Luckily, Cloudsdale had a decent library.





The Cloudsdale Library wasn't as expansive as Princess Twilight's (Swift guessed only the Canterlot Archives could rival that), but the knowledge surrounding the lore of Cutie Marks wasn't forbidden, so it was readily available. Swift merely requested what they had on the nature of Cutie Marks, and was provided accordingly.  

As he flipped through the pages, Swift took a brief moment to reflect on how far he'd come with his pony dexterity. He could turn the pages with his hooves, but he was having a much easier time using the tips of his wings, slipping the edge under each page and pushing upwards. He supposed it fit that he ended up being a pegasus, as he enjoyed the use of his wings quite a bit. It was also odd, considering he'd been afraid of heights as a human.

After combing over a few different volumes, Swift found what he believed he was looking for in the recently published A Comprehensive History and Review of Cutie Marks.

"Though exactly who is responsible for the discovery is unknown, scholars generally no longer debate the origin of Cutie Marks. The Cutie Mark generally originates in the deepest part of a pony, or the soul. The Mark itself seems to be an expression of part of the soul itself. Many believe that this is why the majority of ponies have little to no dissatisfaction with the talent their Cutie Mark represents, though there are exceptions, such as the earth pony Trouble Shoes (however, it should be noted his dissatisfaction stemmed from misinterpretation of his Cutie Mark). It is believed that the presence of the Mark grants the pony the ability to perform the specified talent. This is supported by research uncovered by Princess Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer, in which a spell which removed the Cutie Mark removed the ability to perform the talent."

Swift flinched at the thought. Starlight suddenly seemed a lot creepier in light of the knowledge that she was essentially ripping part of a pony's soul away before. Shrugging it off, he continued reading.

"What remains unknown is whether a pony is destined to receive a specific Cutie Mark, or has the potential to obtain any Cutie Mark, and just earns the Mark in the talent they work on. Likewise, there is usually a connotation between a pony's name and the Cutie Mark they receive. However, the idea that a pony's name determines their Cutie Mark has been largely dismissed in recent years, especially in light of the Cutie Marks obtained by the Ponyville Cutie Mark Crusaders. Perhaps a pony's name simply inspires them to pursue a specific skill, prompting them to obtain a Cutie Mark in that skill."

Swift mulled this over in his head. There wasn't a lot of new information here, considering his knowledge of major events over the past few years (at least those surrounding Princess Twilight and her closest acquaintances). It seems ponies themselves still didn't know everything there was to know about Cutie Marks. Still, the next paragraph seemed to address his biggest question.

"It remains unknown why ponies are the only species capable of receiving a Cutie Mark. Some theorize that ponies possess the strongest connection to the planet's magical field, allowing them to express part of their souls in the form of Cutie Marks. Some believe it dates back to ancient pony civilization, and that the ability to manifest a Cutie Mark was bestowed upon ponykind by the creator in order to help guide ponies through life. Research into Cutie Marks has been inconclusive. Suggestions have been made to attempt to magically bestow Cutie Marks onto non-pony species, but tests have never been approved, citing ethical concerns."

With a sigh, Swift used one wing to lift the cover of the book and close it. Based on what he'd read, his initial theory that, now that he was a pony, he was capable of getting a Cutie Mark seemed to hold water. On the other hand, there was no precedent for something like this, and there was no proof he could get a Cutie Mark. He briefly wondered about reaching out to some mage who had expertise in Cutie Mark magic, but dismissed that idea right away. It would only expose his secret to more ponies, and probably bring him back into contact with Princess Twilight. Consider how his last meeting the the Princess of Friendship had gone, that was something he wanted to avoid like the plague.

Swift placed a hoof on the side of his head. It was troubling to think about his time in Ponyville. In retrospect, he never should've chosen the home of the Mane Six as his home, even if he'd popped into this world less than a mile away from the town. Getting close to them was just asking for trouble. But he couldn't help himself. He'd loved them so much in the show, and the prospect of befriending them had been too great to resist. Especially Pinkie Pie, who he knew would never judge him. Heck, if it'd just been her who knew what he really was, he might've been willing to risk staying.  

He focused back on the book, skimming over the sections related to Cutie Marks and non-ponies, but found nothing else that could be of use to him in his current state. He flipped back a couple of sections, before he found what he was looking for.

"While the average age for obtaining a Cutie Mark is twelve, there have been many recorded cases of ponies obtaining their Marks earlier or later in life. The oldest pony ever to be recorded as a blank flank was Morning Glory, at the age of thirty. Morning Glory finally managed to gain his Mark in gardening, a hobby he'd taken up as a foal, but had previously abandoned. This lends more credence to the theory that ponies are 'supposed' to obtain one specific Mark, however—"

Swift shut the book at that point, uninterested in what remained. At least he wasn't the only one who had trouble finding his purpose in life. He'd been in his early twenties when he left Earth, so he was at least below the record. Age didn't seem to be a factor in obtaining a Cutie Mark. Of course, this still left him with his original problem: he had no idea what he could possibly gain a Cutie Mark in.

Back home, Swift hadn't had any real hobbies. He'd played the occasional video game (something he'd given up by coming to Equestria), tried his hand at writing (though it was mostly fan fiction), and attempted to play a few different instruments. None of those seemed like viable options in his current situation. Plus, based on what he'd just read, there was the possibility that he'd work long enough at his job, and simply get a Cutie Mark for that. But was that what he really wanted? Did the base desire for a Cutie Mark mean he didn't care what talent it was in?

Swift didn't know, and at the moment, he didn't think anypony knew. Resigning himself to the uncertainty, he returned the books to the shelves he'd found them on, and exited the library, lost in thought.





Exiting the library, Swift saw that Celestia's sun was nearing the end of its descent, lighting up the sky in a brilliant orange. There were fewer pegasi dotting the skies, most having presumably gone home. Swift had an unobstructed path back to his home, but he didn't really feel like going home now. Then again, there wasn't anything he really did feel like doing.  

The crimson pegasus walked down the cloud streets again, lost in thought. As he'd previously thought, he wanted a Cutie Mark, but he wasn't sure what he would get it in. He supposed getting a Cutie Mark in weather work wouldn't be too bad, but, again, he wasn't sure that was what he wanted.  The desire for the mark was more a longing for a purpose than anything. A Mark would be a good first step, at the very least. The problem was he didn't know how to go about it. He needed advice.

Unfortunately, he didn't really have anypony he could turn to on such a sensitive topic. His coworkers were alright, sure, but he didn't consider any of them friends. The closest thing he really had to a friend was Cumulonimbus, who'd been responsible for his hiring, and was his supervisor on most days. That didn't mean he was comfortable telling the mare he didn't even have a Cutie Mark. There really was nopony.

As he meandered across the street, Swift casually glanced from side to side, seeing the various shops (formed of clouds, of course) along each side of him. There were wing care supply stores (Swift had finally managed to get the hang of preening himself not too long ago), sports shops (not surprising for such an active species), and Dr. Stray Feather's Psychological Counseling—

Swift did a double-take. No, he hadn't been hallucinating.  

There was, indeed, a psychologist's clinic right in front of him. It was rather nondescript, like most cloud buildings, but there was no mistaking the sign. In addition, according to their hours of operation, they were still open for half an hour.

Swift scratched his chin with one hoof. He'd been in therapy on Earth, of course, but admittedly, he probably hadn't been the best patient. He didn't know how different it would be on this planet, but he was guessing it wasn't so different, given how many similarities there already were between ponies and humans. One thing he knew absolutely nothing about was psychological medication, or if they even had it on this planet. Ultimately, he still had mental problems, and therapy could help with that. He did have a steady supply of bits coming in, so payment wasn't a problem.

His mind made up, Swift walked up to the clinic door, pushing it open with one hoof. The lobby was a lot like counseling offices he'd seen back on Earth. There were two large, comfortable-looking couches, three other separate seats, and a small box filled with books and magazines. At the back of the room was the receptionist's desk, covered by a purple pegasus mare with a deep orange mane. Swift strolled up to the desk, briefly wondering how unlucky a pony had to be to end up with that particular color scheme.

"Uh, excuse me?" he ventured, gently poking the desk with one hoof.

The receptionist pony looked up at him. "How can I help you, sir?" she asked. Her voice sounded rather disinterested, and Swift feared he was making a huge mistake. Still, this mare wasn't necessarily an indicator of Dr. Feather's manner.

"I was, um, hoping I could make an appointment with Dr. Feather?" he asked, trying not to fidget.

The receptionist flipped through a small binder on the desk, reading through the calendar.  

"She has an opening next Thursday. Would that work for you?"

Swift had been hoping to get in earlier, but he supposed waiting one week was pretty lucky.  

"I'll take it," he replied, simply.





Swift made his way back to his home without further incident. Upon his arrival from Ponyville, he scrapped together all the bits he had and moved into a small apartment on the east side of town. It helped that he didn't have any real possessions to move with. His landlord seemed like a reasonable pony, though she'd kinda gotten on his case when he'd first informed her that he didn't yet have a paying job. Thankfully, he didn't have that problem anymore.  

The apartment building itself was actually made out of brick, specially enchanted to not fall through the clouds. Clouds that didn't fall apart or get moved by the wind could be purchased, then used to build one's own house, shop, or whatever, but they were more time consuming to create, not to mention expensive. Plus, you have to pay a zoning fee if you were building a cloud house in the city. If you had one outside a cloud city, you had to have it registered, which Swift presumed was what Rainbow Dash did. Right now, he couldn't afford his own cloud house, so he was stuck with saving up.

Opening the door, Swift climbed up the stairs, passing no ponies on his way up. He produced a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and strolled into a modest, two-room apartment. Like the place he'd been renting in Ponyville, it had a reasonably comfortable bed, a desk, a magic-fueled refrigerator, and a small bookshelf that wasn't currently holding many books (Swift usually just checked them out from the library). This apartment at least came with its own bathroom, too.  

Swift settled down onto the bed, thinking about the day he'd had. He supposed he'd taken an important first step by going to therapy, but he didn't know for certain if he'd even like this doctor. He'd had more than enough bad experiences with some counselors on Earth to know that not all therapists were good, and there was no reason to assume that Equestria would be any different. Sure, Equestria was a nicer place overall, but it still had its fair share of selfish jerks and condescending smart alecks. He supposed there was nothing he could do but hope, as well as ditch Dr. Feather if it didn't work out. The fact that, if he really wanted this to work out, he'd have to tell Dr. Feather that he didn't have a Cutie Mark didn't help his nerves.

Then he thought back to the letter he'd sent to Princess Twilight and the others. He'd regretted sending it, afraid it would convince them to come out and find him, but two weeks had passed since then, and no ponies had shown up at his door. He supposed it was a shame. He had really wanted to be friends with the Mane Six, having grown to love them so much from watching the show, but he couldn't, not while they knew his past and his "immigrant" status. And there was no way to make them forget or anything, so he was just stuck. The ability to belong was just something that seemed to elude him.

Sighing to himself, Swift ate enough food to constitute a meal, then climbed into bed and fell asleep.