//------------------------------// // Story Three: Lifted Hearts // Story: Clipped Wings // by Desrium //------------------------------// Chapter One Time does wonders to the broken and battered. He was young, but not too young. Though he was still young enough to be called one, he wasn't much of a colt anymore. Those few months he spent surrounded by harshness and adversity had done much to catapult him into maturity. He stood at the balcony of his home in Ponyville -which retained its name when the pony population was negligible compared to the Hellhounds. There he looked out at the restored town that had risen out of the ashes of destruction, leveled cottages such as the one he now lived in looking as good as new, homes for Hellhound families while larger buildings became places of work and commerce. Almost as if things were returning to normal, to better times that were centuries ago. His head rested on his forelegs, which in turn rested on the railing of the balcony, hooves hanging over the edge. He felt the cool morning breeze blow through his cloak and into his red pelt and saw the leaves quiver with it. He still remembered when the trees in Equestria were dried, shriveled twigs, blackened limbs reaching up to obscured skies. Those times made him appreciate these new days that much more. After his parents died...or rather, were killed; his life had become melancholy and as gray as the clouds that sprawled across the land. Each day and misfortune blended together. Each injury and doctor visit. Each awkward talk with Flint and Erasure. Every hour spent reading through the archives about a time when pegasi were not confined to the Enclave bastions. Every centuries old story he read to escape his reality. So it would remain until he was thrust into the realm of the damned...where he found peers and joy. He suffered. He shed many tears. Bled from many wounds. And he would not change that even if he were given the choice to do so by Celestia herself. To do so would be to take any meaning out of his life, for it was only with the pain and suffering did he develop his resolve. It was what brought him, Klaxon, Steiner and Alana together. They all went through the fires and came out bettered by it, though the burns had yet to truly fade. But that was an issue of time. For now, the good in life would be Falcon Wing's consolation. He watched the shapes of Hellhounds in the distance making their way through the streets of town, basking in the warmth of the golden sun, Pipeye resting on his forehead as it always had before. His hood was draped over his shoulders so that his mane could catch the soothing, somewhat crisp air. The peace, the serenity. It made him so happy. After all he had gone through, he had all he could ask for: a place to live, friendly faces and a world so bright and promising -as long as he did not consider the potential for cruelty it still had. The late Shadow Sweep was a testament to the dangers of Equestria even after the clouds parted and the land purged of its poison. But to linger on such things would surely drive him mad. The horrors of the past would be locked away in the annals of time so long as ponies strived to be decent, to live lives where goodness rewarded good and conflicts were resolved peacefully. Of course, such an age was was still far into the future, where the Wasteland generation would be no more; the generation which became used to murder and pillaging as a means of survival from day to day, the generation that dealt with raiders and other savages who would rather tear the world apart and toss the pieces into a sea of despair than lift it from the pit of annihilation. In these happy days, the goal of making an even brighter future was what drove Falcon Wing. It was why he woke up in the early morning to see the first rays of sun reach up over the horizon. It was why he watched the first of the Hellhounds leave their homes to wake the town up, enjoying every cool breeze and golden warmth. It was what gave him hope that one day ponies would look back upon the blood soaked history of Equestria, praise its heroes, weep for the innocence lost and press on, vowing never to make the same mistakes again. He heard the door leading out to the balcony open and the hoofsteps as the caramel mare trotted across the wooden floor and rested her forelegs over the railing. She stood beside him for some time, sharing the silence until she couldn't bear to do so any longer. "Any other pegasus I've known would be up in the air already," said Alana, green eyes turned up to the skies above, "and since you can fly again, I thought you of any pegasus would be inclined to fly at any chance you got!" "Leave? Without saying anything to you?" Falcon Wing scoffed, lifted his chin from his forelegs and waved a hoof. "Flying can wait. Good morning by the way." She playfully tapped his shoulder. "So why were you so quiet up to now?" "I was just thinking of a few things that make me happy. Standing out here... completely at peace with you by my side. I guess I wanted it to cherish the moment," Falcon Wing replied. "How cute!" Alana teased. Falcon Wing shrugged it off and replied "When you've been as close to death I have, things like this become a big deal! Like, to you going to bed may just be going to bed, but to me it's laying with one of the most awesome mares in Equestria with the hope that by some good grace I'll see her again in the morning!" Alana looked to him and cocked her head. "That so?" she asked simply. Falcon nodded. "Because going to bed for me means laying with one of the most courageous little stallions out in Equestria with the hope that he will still be there when I wake up and not off on some mission of good will!" she retorted, playfully scuffing his shoulder again. "Instead he's out on the balcony staring into town, lost in his thoughts." "And I enjoy every moment of it!" said the red pegasus, before gritting his teeth and muttering "I'm not little...!"