//------------------------------//
// The Pie is the Spark 
// Story: The Pie is the Spark 
// by TomeScroll 
//------------------------------//

	It was a sunny day in Equestria. The sky was clear from any clouds and it was a pretty breezy day as well. All around Equestria, ponies were busy attending to their personal or group activities. In Ponyville’s marketplace, there were many ponies bustling through the market – browsing the available merchandise and street vendors calling out loud for potential customers. But through the cacophony of the marketplace, there was a pony standing still in front of a food stand. This pony was a light blue pegasus, with a dark blue mane who was wearing a Wonderbolt’s uniform and this pony was having an internal battle. 
“What should I choose?” he thought to himself. “This is a hard choice, I can’t take the pressure,” he mused again, this time scratching his mane in confusion. The food vendor was standing in front of him, where the vendor was slightly terrified by the situation. The food vendor had waited for the pony in uniform to decide either he wants an apple pie or another apple pie but did not get a respond except for the occasional mumbles of thought. 
The vendor was terrified because he felt like Soarin could be blow a fuse because of mental stress he was in. He tried to snap the pegasus back into the world of the living by tapping him on the shoulders. As the vendor reached out, Soarin suddenly exclaimed. “Aha!” Soarin cheered. “I’ll have this one, please,” he said cheerily as he dropped 5 bits onto the counter and picked an apple pie on his right. He put the apple into his saddlebag and headed into the sea of ponies – leaving the vendor confused. 
As he walked out from the marketplace, he heard someone calling out. “Hey, wait up,” the voice called. As he turned to look, he saw a light blue pegasus with a rainbow mane landing in front of him. “Omygosh!” she gasped. “Are you really Soarin?” she asked with a big grin. 
Soarin gave returned her smile and stroked a pose. “The one and only,” he answered proudly. “Besides,” he continued as he lifted his goggles. “You already know it’s me anyway, Rainbow Dash.” 
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure that if it was truly you from the sea of crowds,” she explained, giving a smile. 	
“True,” he responded. “But how can you not recognized me since I am wearing a Wonderbolt’s uniform?” he asked, smirking.
“Well, actually it was an excuse to ta-,” she stopped herself mid-sentence with a hoof in her mouth. 
“What’s that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 
“I-I mean,” she stammered nervously. “Today is a sunny day so I can’t see you very well from afar. So that’s why I want to be sure that it was you,” she answered with a wavering smile. 
Soarin accepted the answer with a nonchalant shrug. “So,” he spoke up. “Pretty good job keeping the sky clear today,” he said as he looked up.
Feeling proud from the appraisal she stood with her chest puffed forward. “Of course, only the best for Equestria,” she proudly stated with a salute. 
“Oh yeah, we’ll have another Wonderbolt show held in Canterlot next week. Be sure you’ll come,” he said invitingly. 
“You bet’cha,” She said with a smile. “Oh, pony feathers!” she exclaimed worriedly, looking at her watch. “I’m late for another weather patrol. See ya,” she said as she waved goodbye and flew off into the sky – leaving a rainbow trail in her wake. Soarin waved to the direction where she flew. 
“Nice girl,” he mused to himself, smiling at the thought. “It’s time for me to head on as well,” he thought as he opened his wings. “Time to jet!” he exclaimed loudly as he gave his wings a mighty flap. With that, he rocketed from Ponyville and headed towards Cloudsdale – leaving the ground where he stood scorched by the intensity of his takeoff.


 
Soarin was flying towards Cloudsdale in a slow speed as he was enjoying the perfect weather and anticipating for a delightful lunch he was about to enjoy at home. With that, Soarin was slowly drifting into a state of daydream that cost him greatly. While he was in his reverie, he was performing a midair spin that made his apple pie to drop from his saddlebag. He felt a slight change of weight and saw his apple pie falling towards the ground in a destructive speed. 
“My pie!” he exclaimed worriedly and bolted towards his falling treasure. Soarin and the pie were having a game of deadly catch as both of them were heading towards the ground at a dangerous speed. 
“Gotcha,” he celebrated as he caught the pie while heading towards the ground. His victory was short lived as he tried to pull up; his pie was snagged by tree branches and fell onto the ground with a thud. 
Soarin groaned as he tried to open his eyes and to move his body. He looked around and saw he was in the middle of a forest and tried to stand up. As he stood up, he noticed he had a cut on his fore hoof but it was a minor cut. When the thought of cuts arises, he noticed his pie was not there. 
He became worried and yelled, “Pie, where are you?” into the dark forest. He knew that it was a lost cause and a bit silly but he would try anything to get his pie back. Saddened by the thought of losing his pie, he suddenly noticed the scent of the apple pie nearby. He perked up and began searching. 
As he looked around the area where the scent of the apple pie was the strongest, he was struck down onto the ground with a hit at the back of his head. “Looking for this?” a raspy female voice asked menacingly. 
He looked up and saw a female griffin covered with apple pie. Soarin was stunned to the fact that his precious apple pie has been destroyed rather than the fact there was a hostile griffin standing over him. “My pie!” He screamed agonizingly.	
“Why you little,” the griffin snarled and rose her clamped claw into a fist as she was going to punch him but stopped as the blue pegasus said something that caught her attention. 
“Wait, I know you. You’re Gilda!” Soarin exclaimed surprisingly. 		
Gilda pulled her fist back. “How did you know me?” she questioned angrily as she lifted him to her eye level. 
“Don’t you remember me?” he asked cheerily as he lifted his goggles. “It’s me! It’s Soarin from flight camp.” He exclaimed happily, hugging Gilda tightly. 
She dropped him onto the ground unceremoniously and tapped her chin in thought. Then she remembered when she was still young at flight camp, she always being annoyed by a pony who always offered her pie – which she responded by dumping the pie on his head. “Oh yeah,” she said with a smirk on her face. “You’re the pie pony,” she said as she looked Soarin in the eyes. 
“Hey, you remembered me,” he responded with a smile on his face as he jumped onto his hooves. “So, how have you been?” he asked as he dusted himself. 
“None of your business,” she answered with a steely gaze. 
“I see,” he replied with a silly grin on his face. 
“Wipe that grin off your face or I’ll rip it off,” she said dangerously. 
“Sorry about that,” he said as he tried to pull off a serious expression. “Also,” he continued apologetically. “I’m sorry that I dropped the pie on your head, I was daydreaming when I was flying and before I noticed, the pie had fallen from my saddlebag,” he explained, poking the ground. 
“You better be sorry,” Gilda said accusingly. “You know how hard it is to wash off apple pies from these feathers?” 
“Yeah,” he responded guiltily. “Oh!” he exclaimed excitingly. “You can use the showers in my cloud mansion. It can clean the apple pie from your feather as easy as pie,” he explained, chuckling to his pun. 
Gilda rolled her eyes in annoyance but gave a shrug. “Fine,” she sighed. With that both of them flew of the forest and headed towards Soarin’s home. 
As one would expect from a Wonderbolt, Soarin’s house was big. His home was a small mansion with a lot of vacant rooms and a big courtyard complete with a racing track. Gilda’s mouth was wide open in awe as they enter his home. 
“This is a big house for one pony,” she said as she looked at his home in amazement. 
“It is a big house and a bit lonely sometimes but I have gotten used to it,” Soarin replied with a shrug. “So,” he continued as he pointed to a hall. “The shower is the third room on the left.” Gilda responded with a shrug and headed towards the pointed area. 
“I should make lunch,” Soarin thought to himself. Just about he went to the kitchen. He heard a knock on his front door. He opened it and saw a fellow Wonderbolt in uniform. It was a yellow coated pegasus filly with a fiery mane. “Spitfire!” Soarin exclaimed excitedly as he hugged her. 
“Hey, Soarin,” Spitfire replied, returning the hug. “What are you doing right now?” She asked as she entered his home. 
“I’m about to make lunch,” he answered, closing the front door. “Want to join us for lunch?” He offered with a smile. 	
“Sure, but ‘us’?”, she asked inquisitively. “Do you mean you have another guest?” 	
“Yeah, I met her when I was on the way home. I dropped an apple pie on her and she’s currently in the shower right now,” he answered as he entered the kitchen.
“Who is ‘she’?” Spitfire asked again, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“You’ll meet her soon enough,” Soarin yelled from the kitchen while he was preparing lunch. 
Spitfire became curious and sat down in the living room, waiting for the ‘guest’ to appear. As she waited, she remembered Soarin had a cut on his fore hoof when he invited her in. “Did something happen to him on his way back?” she mumbled to herself. While in thought, she heard a door opened and a voice called from the shower room. 
“Thanks for letting me to use your shower, it does make the cleaning easier,” the strange yet familiar voice said. 
As Spitfire turned to look, Gilda and her made eye contact and both of them simultaneously gave a cold look to each other. “You,” both of them growled. 
“How did you get in?” Spitfire asked in a low dangerous tone. 
“I was invited,” Gilda answered in equally dangerous tone. “Why are YOU here?” she asked the yellow pegasus. 
“I always visit Soarin during lunch because I am his friend. What is your reason to be here?”
“Well, your friend there dropped apple pie on me so as an apology, he let me used his shower.”
Suddenly, Spitfire gasped in realization and gave the griffin an angry look. “So, you are the one who hurt Soarin,” she growled angrily. 
“What do you mean?” Gilda asked with a steely gaze. 
“You are the one who caused the cut on Soarin’s fore hoof,” she answered accusingly. 
“Are an idiot or something?” the griffin retorted. “It was obvious that he got that cut on the way down. You know how sharp tree branches can be,” she replied with a smirk. 
“If you ever hurt him, I’ll show you the reason why they call me ‘Spitfire’,” she threatened. 
“Oh,” Gilda responded with a fake gasp. “I’m so scared, “she said mockingly. 
“You better,” Spitfire growled. 
As both of them continue their deadly game of stare, Soarin enters the living room – pushing a food cart with freshly prepared salad on it. “Oh, hey, you guys already met each other,” he giggled, oblivious to the situation. 
Spitfire cut her gaze to look at Soarin. “Why did you invite her to your home?” Spitfire asked him as she stomped her hoof in protest. 
“Like I told you, he offered me to use his shower as an apology,” Gilda answered her question, smirking. 	
“And you made him to make you lunch too?” she asked again, looking at the griffn, this time her voice was getting higher. 
“Now, now,” Soarin spoke up, trying to calm down the angry pony. “I decided myself to make lunch for all of us.”
“What about the cut?” she asked again, gazing coldly at Gilda who was checking her claw. 
“Oh, I got this cut while I was trying to catch my pie,” he answered with a smile. “Right,” he said as he clapped his fore hooves together. “Let bygones be bygones and let’s have lunch.” 
“I can’t accept the fact that you invited her here,” Spitfire protested, pointing a hoof at the griffin as she looked at him. “She used to bully you when we were in flight camp.”
“Hey, it was because you bully me too during flight camp,” Gilda responded angrily. 
“I was bullying you because you used to bully Soarin while he just being nice to you,” Spitfire replied with a cold tone. 
“Now, please calm down. It’s okay, Spitfire. Let the past be the past,” he said softly as he looked Spitfire and Gilda pleadingly. “Can we have lunch together without bringing up sour memories?” 
Both of them looked into Soarin’s glistened pleading eyes and sighed. “Fine,” Spitfire answered. Gilda’s respond was only a dismissive shrug. During lunch, Gilda and Spitfire sat across each other and were exchanging cold stares while eating while Soarin sat between them - leaving him feeling quite uncomfortable and awkward. 


	
After the three of them finished lunch, Spitfire collected the plates and headed to the kitchen to clean them – leaving Soarin and Gilda at the living room table. “So,” Gilda started as she leaned back on a chair. “You finally reached your dreams to be in the Wonderbolts.” 
“Yeah,” Soarin answered with a nod. “It’s crazy, huh? A few years ago I never thought I would be a Wonderbolt. But with determination and hard work, I finally made it.” He gave her a wide grin. 
“Isn’t that nice,” she replied, looking uninterested. 
“What about you? Haven’t you thought about joining a flight team?” he asked Gilda, while cleaning his goggles. 
Gilda let out a laugh. “I don’t need to join a flight team to show how good I am. Everypony knows I’m an awesome flier,” she answered proudly. 
“Want to prove that?” Spitfire challenged as she walked out of the kitchen. 
“You’re on,” Gilda accepted the challenge, cracking her knuckles. 
A few moments later, the three of them were on the racing track at the courtyard of Soarin’s home. Both Gilda and Spitfire were standing on the start line of a 100 meters race track. “Right,” Soarin spoke up. “This is a race challenge and I expect a clean race. No punching, no kicking and no clawing. If any of you break the rules, the winner will be the opponent by default,” Soarin explained in a stern tone. 
Another few moments later, Soarin was standing at the finish line with a starter gun. “Get ready,” he started and both Spitfire and Gilda went into position. “Set,” he continued. “Go!” he yelled as he shot the starter gun into the air. With that, Gilda and Spitfire rocketed from the start line in an incredible speed. Their takeoff was so intense it made a giant cloud of dust as their takeoff. Both of the racer put all of their effort into the race, their back muscle began to ache and their eyes watering. With just a few seconds, both of them zipped by the finished line – creating a strong gust of wind in their wake. 
The yellow Wonderbolt and the griffin slowed down to a stop and were panting in exhaustion. “W-w-who won?” Spitfire asked Soarin with a pant as he reached to both of them. Soarin did not respond and just stood in front of them. 
“Tell us,” Gilda insisted impatiently. 
“Both of you finished at the same time,” Soarin said in a hushed tone, anticipating the inevitable. Like he predicted, both Spitfire and Gilda protest to the result. “It is proven that both of you are equally fast,” he said in finality. 
“Whatever,” Gilda responded with a dismissive wave.
Spitfire looked into the sky and noticed it was almost night time. She stood up and gave Soarin a hug. “I’ll have to go for an errand. Thank you for lunch,” she whispered into his ear. 
“You are welcome,” he replied, returning the hug. With that Spitfire gave Gilda a last cold look and took off into the sky.  
“Yeah, I should be going too,” Gilda said as she opened her wings. 
“Why don’t you stay for the night?” Soarin offered with a smile. 
Gilda looked at him questioningly. “Why?” 
“Well, I have a lot of vacant room,” he explained. “Besides, it will be hard navigating back during the nigh.” 
Gilda looked at Soarin’s home and shrugged. “Sure, why not?” 
Soarin perked up and smiled. “I’ll prepare a room for you,” he said as he trotted inside. 
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she offered. 
“Why? I have a lot of empty rooms,” this time Soarin was the one who looked at her questioningly. 
“Just let me sleep in the living room,” she responded coldly. 
“Sure,” he replied, unaffected by the harsh tone. 
Nighttime arrived fast and Soarin and Gilda had a quiet dinner together. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he did not want to be prying something that might not be his business. When both of them went into their respective sleeping area, both of them seem to be awake.
Gilda was staring into the ceiling, remembering the past where she and Rainbow Dash were still friends. She remembered the time where both of them used to pull pranks all over flight camp. Then she remembered the time where Spitfire always gave her a hard time during the camp. Spitfire would challenge her to races that she always loses. Finally, she remembered the time where Soarin would always offer her pie whenever she was feeling down but she always respond by dumping the pie onto him. 
As she was still in reverie, she heard a whisper. “Want to have some pie?” She sat up to look and saw Soarin with a plate of apple pie in his mouth. He set the pie down and pushed it to her. 
“No thanks,” Gilda declined by pushing it back.
“Can’t sleep, huh?” he asked as he nibbled a small piece of the pie.
“Yeah, I was remembering stuff,” she answered somberly.
“What kind of stuff?”
“You know, the past. I was remembering the times where Dashie and I were still friends.”
“Were?” Soarin asked with a surprised expression and a piece of pie stuck onto his chin.
Gilda chuckled lightly. “Yeah,” she answered sadly with a nod.
“What happened?” Soarin scooted closer.
“I snapped because I was overly possessive of her and couldn’t control my anger,” She confessed, looking out of the window.
“I met her yesterday, y’know,” he said as he wiped his face.
“Did she say anything about me?” she asked with a hint of hope.
“No, I didn’t think so,” he answered honestly.
“Oh,” Gilda said with a somber expression.
“You two should apologize,” he suggested.
“Why?” she asked, looking at him.
“It is obvious that you are apparently feeling guilty about it and for the fact that friends shouldn’t fight,” Soarin explained with a soft smile.
“How?” she said questioningly.
“Have you tried to talk to her?” he suggested, tapping his chin in thought.
“I don’t have the courage too,” she answered somberly.
“What about writing a letter?” he suggested again.
“A what?” Gilda looked to him questioningly.
“A letter. More specifically, an ‘I’m sorry’ letter,” he explained.
“That’s right!” Gilda exclaimed excitedly. “I should write a letter. Thank you, Soarin”. She thanked him with a light punch to the shoulder.
“No problem,” he replied with a smile.
Then suddenly, Gilda let out a yawn. “I’m tired, I think I’m going to sleep,” she said as she gets comfortable on the couch.
“Of course, good night,” Soarin said as he walked away.
“G’nite”.
As he about to enter his bedroom, he decided to visit Spitfire. He wanted to spend time with his childhood friend.




The next morning, as Soarin was preparing breakfast, he noticed that Gilda was in his courtyard. She was practicing on the race course, trying to become better. He smiled at the sight and prepared the living room table for breakfast. He made stacks of pancakes with maple syrup and a jug of freshly made apple juice. As he was finishing preparing the table, he saw a letter was hidden under a pillow. He took a look and saw it was a letter from Gilda to Rainbow Dash.
Suddenly an idea popped into his head, he wanted to send the letter in behalf of Gilda so that she would not have to feel embarrassed about it. With that, he fastened his goggles, and jet towards Ponyville by the front door.
While he was on the way, Soarin familiar heard a voice, “What are you doing?” Gilda let out an eagle screech from behind him. Before he had the time to look, Gilda rammed him downwards and grabbed hold of him. Before both of them could pull up, they hit series of tree branches and fell onto the ground unceremoniously. Gilda stood over Soarin and grabbed the letter. “What are you doing?” she asked again, angrily.
“I was,” he tried to answer as his breath was knocked out of him. “I was trying to do you a favor by sending the letter in your behalf,” he explained, trying to get up.
“I changed my mind, I don’t want to send a letter,” she said as she put the letter away.
“You must,” Soarin insisted.
“Why?” Gilda said incredulously. 
“Friends should not fight!” He screamed, making her took a step back. “Friendship is something you should cherish, not throw away,” he explained as he tried to take a breath.
“I...” Gilda stammered.
“Go,” he commanded her, pointing to Ponyville. With that, Gilda took a long breath and flew towards Ponyville. As Gilda was slowly fading into the sky, Soarin was getting tired and a few moments later, he went into deep slumber.
Almost an hour passed by and Gilda came back to Soarin, looking excited. “We did it, we made up!” She said cheerfully but Soarin did not give any respond. As she got closer, she noticed there was a large cut on his side and he was breathing slowly. She quickly lifted him up and headed to Cloudsdale Hospital. While on the way, Soarin was conscious enough to hear Gilda’s apology. “Sorry... I’m sorry.” 
While under the darkness, Soarin noticed that he was in a hospital because he sometimes listened to the doctors and nurses conversing about his condition. As minutes turns to hours, he heard somebody was having a heated conversation next to him. It was between Gilda and Spitfire. 
“Why in the wide world of Equestria that I left him with you?” Spitfire asked angrily to no one in particular. “Why did you do this to him?” This time it was for Gilda. 
“I was... I just snapped,” Gilda answered in a hushed tone.
“Why?!” Spitfire’s voice getting higher.
“I was surprised that my letter was missing and I got a little mad for Soarin for taking it,” she answered again, this time a bit quieter. He heard somepony was sniffing.
“Did you ask him why he took the letter?” Spitfire’s was voice getting raspy.
“I did but it was after I struck him. He said the he wanted to send the letter in my behalf so I wouldn’t get embarrassed”.
“He was just being nice! I know he is a little bit silly at times but his heart is in a right place. He wouldn’t do anything that would cause trouble or harm,” Spitfire voice was shaking with sadness. “Last night, when he visited at my home, he told me how cool of a friend you were. Now, look where you got him, in a hospital bed!” She hissed.
“I know and I’m sorry, okay!?” Gilda screamed which was filled guilt and remorse. 
“You better be,” Spitfire hissed again. “You better apologize to him or I’ll –“Spitfire was cut mid sentence when both Gilda and her heard a whisper. It was Soarin. They saw he beckoned them to come close and both of them stood closer to the bed to hear him.
“Don’t... fight,” Soarin said in a raspy voice. “Friends... should never fight,” he whispered, smiling. He took Gilda’s claw and Spitfire’s hoof and put them into a handshake. “A...apologize,” he whispered. 
“I’m sorry,” Spitfire apologized to Gilda, feeling ashamed. 
“I’m sorry too,” she responded, with mutual feelings. 
After that Spitfire half-heartedly had to leave as she has a performance soon. She gave Soarin a hug and Gilda a nod and then she was off – leaving once again Gilda and Soarin alone. There was a period of silence between the two as Gilda had a remorseful expression on her face. 
Soarin reached out a hoof and pointed at a piece of pie near his bed. As Gilda took the piece of pie she noticed that it was left by Spitfire before she left and gave it to him. 
“I’m sorry,” Gilda spoke up quietly.
“It’s fine,” he whispered. 
“But it was my fau-“she was cut by Soarin as he lifted the piece of pie to her. 
“Pie?” He whispered, smiling softly. 
“Yes, please,” Gilda answered, smiling yet tears flowing out of her eyes. Soarin gave her a big smile and whispered to her. 
“Friends”.