//------------------------------//
// Chapter 59 
// Story: Fine Print 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Winter came to Ponyville exactly as scheduled, with regular snowfalls and cheerful decorations and lots of adorable winter clothes. Everwake might be coiling its medical grip around his hooves one at a time, but in the meantime it meant that he could go out into town with Rose almost whenever he wanted. 

Among other things, Tracy used his credit with the flight school to schedule a week of no-crash lessons. If he was willing to take the lessons during the day, they even volunteered to send an instructor to Ponyville, rather than forcing him to commute.

I'm doping anyway. Might as well take advantage. Of course individualized instruction brought more pressure, since he couldn't just hide near the back and repeat what everyone else said. 

If I'm leaving Equestria behind forever, I'm going to learn to fly first. It was either this, or let the urge to put on a squirrel-suit and jump out of planes fester in the back of his mind until he actually did it. No way he could let that happen. Rose even came to cheer him on.

In the end, there wasn't much to jump on, nothing close to as tall as Canterlot. One special permission later, and they were jumping off city hall. It was either that or the castle, and Tracy didn't think Twilight would be terribly enthusiastic about that.

"You might look over the edge here and see a shorter drop," Giselle said, careful not to scratch the wood as she walked forward with her claws. Whether the gruff bird had decided to be his teacher out of guilt, or maybe obligation, he didn't know, and wouldn't ask. "That's not a good thing the way you think. Your marefriend watching from down there—she looks close by. She's not. What if I told you I've seen pegasi break legs from a fall like this?"

Tracy gaped, wings snapping to his sides. He took a few steps away from the edge, so he wasn't looking down into oblivion. "This is like... six or seven stories. Where I come from, no one would survive this fall. You saying I'd live?"

She laughed, clasping him over the shoulder with one peremptory wing. "You fell a lot further than this, Spark Gap. Do ponies where you come from carry boxes of lead with them when they go climbing?"

He shook his head, looking away awkwardly. But explaining his origins was obviously way too much detail for the flying teacher. "So why is a smaller jump worse?"

Giselle was bigger than he was, and when she shoved him, his hooves slid along the wood without resistance. She could probably have picked him right up into the air if she wanted with mean strength alone. "If you do it right, it won't be. We glide right down to the street over there, by the sweet shop. But if you fall... I might not be able to catch you in six stories."

"Don't screw up," he said, wings opening slowly to either side. "Can't be that hard, right? Gliding is easy."

The griffon nodded. "Let me see a proper stance. Wings open."

He demonstrated, muscles taught to resist the pressure of the fall. She circled him once, using her wings to push up from below. He wobbled to one side, then the other. But ultimately, he held.

"Good. Now I tell you to hover. How do you do that?"

He moved, flapping his wings in an exaggerated up-down motion. It wasn't exactly the one the textbook showed him. He'd learned this from Sable, out in a grassy field beyond Ponyville.

"Good enough. Now do exactly what I said. Jump, glide. I'll catch you. If I don't catch you, land on your legs. Medicine is great for fixing a broken leg, as you know." She laughed. He didn't. "But heads, not so good with heads. Don't hit that."

She didn't give him much more time to pace nervously back and forth by the side of the building. "Two, one, jump!"

Tracy took one look down. Rose noticed, waved, then started backing up. She made her way towards Sugarcube Corner. Duh, look the way I want to go. I don't want to go straight down.

He jumped. Air smacked up against him from below, bending his wings upward. But this time he had a week of personal instruction, not skimming an old book. He lost a little altitude, but not much. Mostly he glided forward.

"Good, good!" Giselle appeared beside him, rotated so she was flying backward ahead of him. How the hell do you do that? "Hold that way! You're doing great, Spark! For ponies it's all in the magic, and I'm seeing a ton. Little too fast, actually. Let's try pulling up into a hover."

She was right, he was speeding up, just like last time. But during that first jump he'd been falling rapidly along with moving forward. He could still see the rooftops. He was actually gliding!

Somewhere far below, he imagined he could hear Roseluck running, cheering him on. "You got this, Tracy!"

He did. Tracy spread his wings, bending backward to eat up forward momentum and turn it into a hover. His back strained at the effort, and he began breathing hard—but he stopped. 

"Too fast, pony. You're climbing. That's the worst way to gain altitude. Slow it down."

He did, and it became a little easier. Tracy was almost directly above Sugarcube Corner, up high enough that it started looking a little more like an actual gingerbread house under his hooves. 
 
"I'm actually... I'm actually flying!" he gasped. Between amazement and the sudden physical strain, he could barely talk. But what was there to say? Tracy wasn't just gliding anymore—even humans could do that with the right clothes. He was staying in the air.


 


"Sure, pony. Flying in place, but that's where it starts. First time, I expected you'd have fewer eggs in the nest. But no, you're..." She pointed back the way they came. "Back to where we jumped. No reason to glide down to the ground if we're past that. We'll work on a level landing. That's harder than coming down from an angle."

The lesson went on for a solid hour after that, until Tracy's wings and back were so sore that he really did start to droop in the air. His question—why didn't winged ponies fly everywhere all the time—now had an answer. Flying could be exhausting!

Or maybe it's just that you've never used those muscles before. Roseluck met him near the ground, with a few steaming cups of hot chocolate she must've ordered right before he came down. "Equestria's valliant befriender returns," she said, holding out the tray in a hoof. "Are you cold?" 

He nodded, exhaling another steamy breath. Between his scarf and coat, he'd barely even noticed the cold during the lesson. But now that he'd had an hour to work out a sweat, the winter air seemed to cut straight through it. 

He felt a little better when they made it back inside. He felt a lot better with a blanket on between them. "You should be freezing," he said between sips. "You were just standing there on the ground. Moving keeps you warm."

She shrugged a dismissive shoulder. "Earth pony. So long as I've got magic, it takes a lot more than a little snow to make me feel cold. But you... bats are all about being light, and dream stuff. Those don't help in winter."

Dream stuff? But it was probably best not to complicate his situation with more questions and just take her at her word. The warmth made him not want to think, just lay there and relax. 

"Giselle said that today. During the night class too, I guess, but I thought she was just being superstitious or something. I still hadn't understood Equestria yet. I mean, I still don't, but I'm getting better."

She nuzzled up against him, then took his empty glass from his grip and tossed it onto the table. "The only ponies who understand Equestria are the princesses, maybe the Elements of Harmony. The rest of us just get to enjoy it."

He didn't question her on that either. Now that he was finally giving it a chance, finally leaving his bedroom, there was a great deal there to enjoy.

For the first time in two years, Tracy didn't spend Christmas alone. The ponies called it something else, and they didn't have quite the same beliefs about what it was for. But Rose's sisters didn't mind having him along, even if the decorations he brought over from Earth didn't quite match the aesthetic.

It was way more fun than their obligatory few hours at the work Christmas party. But Roseluck found a way to make that her own, and absolutely dominated the karaoke machine, even after half a dozen fizzy cocktails.

But she didn't invite him along a few days after. "Every year my sisters and I go up to Hoofington," she said apologetically. "I know it seems really unfriendly, but doing it alone is kind of a tradition."

He looked away from the old Christmas movie playing on the downstairs TV, which he'd barely even been watching. Mostly he was not working, what he did was secondary. "What's at Hoofington?"

She pressed her neck up from below him in a typical pony hug. "It's where the family came from before we moved to Ponyville. It's where the family plot is... where my parents are buried."

"Oh." He embraced her, without any of the usual tension. But the longer they were together, the more that dissolved. Two months were long enough to move past the honeymoon phase of the relationship, and into something more sustainable. "It's fine, then. How long will you be gone?"

"One night. We'll take the morning train, and come back tomorrow night."

And just like that, he was alone, practically for the first time since November. Here he ran into Equestria's weaknesses—technology. He couldn't keep in touch with an occasional text to know Roseluck was alright. Couldn't call her before bed when she'd be feeling a cocktail of painful emotions he knew all too personally. Couldn't do anything at all, other than order some really delicious breakfast takeout from the Earthside cafe to pick up for her before she got home.

Without work to get to, Tracy could've used this chance to give up his potion vials. But do that, and he'd be lying in bed until Apex needed him again next Monday. He couldn't leave Rose on her own for a whole week.

So instead of doing that, he visited Barnyard Bargains to pick up his resupply, then ate a modest lunch indoors at Ponyville's cheapest local restaurant. He stepped inside, then would've dropped the expensive glass bottle if it wasn't tucked securely into a saddlebag.

Shane was sitting at a corner table, chatting loudly with several other earth ponies.

He'd changed a little in the last several months. Shane was leaner now, covered with the muscle that could come only from hard labor. He also dressed in nothing but a tuque without sign of embarrassment. He also had a cutie mark, a simple standing cement mixer.

Not that Tracy cared. He'd only bothered with a scarf and hat himself, since he wouldn't be outside much today.

Shane looked up. "Tracy! I was just at your place, but nopony answered." He rose. "I'm gonna eat with an old friend, if you don't mind." He crossed the room swiftly, extending a hoof towards him. “You remember me?”

“Of course I do.” Tracy rolled his eyes, then took the offered hoof. Some gestures were universal, even across species. “How was community service, Shane?”

“Great!” he patted him on the shoulder, hard enough that Tracy stumbled. Damn earth ponies were strong. “But they don’t call me Shane anymore. It’s Load Bearing now. Real official and everything.”

“I’ll try to remember,” Tracy said. “I hope you don’t mind if I’m still Tracy.”

Load Bearing only laughed in response.