You trot back and forth across the cloud you’re on. It’s not your cloud, not your home at least. It’s just a cloud, just something you had to land on. It’s high above Ponyville, far away from Cloudsdale, and easily beyond the sight of Canterlot. It may not be your cloud, but it doesn’t belong to any other pony. That’s why it’s easy for you to use it.
You’ve been trotting circles along the cloud for hours. It began as a cirrus cloud, high above the normal working conditions of pegasi, but then you landed on it without trying to dampen your fall. That flattened the billowy cloud. You may have been still on it for a while, but thoughts of Twilight continued to plague you.
She asked you to leave.
She wanted you to leave.
It didn’t matter that you wanted to stay, that you wanted to help her. She wanted you gone and you couldn’t think of a reason to say no. It tears you up inside, knowing that there should be something you can do, but not being able to think of what to do.
That’s when you got up and started trotting across the cloud, moving your hooves back and forth across the puffy surface as you try and generate even the slimmest of ideas that could help you talk to Twilight. She doesn’t want any books. She doesn’t want to go anywhere with you. She doesn’t want to take anything from you. She doesn’t even want to see you.
That eliminates every possibility you can think of.
But you don’t give up, you never give up. That’s the one thing about you any pony can admire, that you hope everypony can see. Even after hours of walking across the cloud, of pushing down the surface with every step of your hooves, hours of generating nothing but steam in your head, you still don’t stop moving.
The cloud has moved down closer to the ground now. You know you’re no longer on a cirrus cloud, but an altostratus. It’s usually the type of cloud you have to break up in order to generate nimbostratus clouds closer to the ground. An altostratus is just cover, just a large thin sheet of condensed air and water molecules, ready to be split and reformed into proper condensation materials for the weather team.
Your hooves stop moving for a moment. The idea comes to mind that maybe you could talk to Twilight about this. She loves to learn about absolutely anything. You’ve seen her read up on ancient pony cultures that either don’t exist or don’t matter to the world anymore. She’d tell you otherwise, but it never stopped her from reading more about them.
Maybe she’d listen to you if you wanted to talk to her about something she didn’t know. She wasn’t a pegasus, and you’re rather sure she’s never had wings before. You’d remember if she had. There would be no reason for her to know about cloud formation in any of her classes.
But then you shake your head with a heavy grimace.
You know she knows all about clouds. Maybe better than you do. She organized the entire Winter Wrap-Up, telling every team exactly what they needed to do. She knew how the pegasi had to fly in order to collect the snow off the ground while simultaneously reducing the amount of condensed water within the clouds.
There’s no way Twilight would plan on something without knowing about it. That wasn’t like her. She needs to know exactly how something works before she can trust using it.
You know how she thinks, how she wants to act and learn. You know that she loves to learn and you even know what she has already learned. Not everything, of course. You don’t know everything about her life. But then, she also doesn’t know about yours.
The thought makes you smile.
Your legs give out beneath you as you have the sudden urge to lie down. You hate thinking for too long. It makes you feel like you’re wasting time, no matter what kind of time you have. You look down from your altostratus cloud, only to realize as you look to the ground beneath you that your cloud is now just a stratus cloud, as close to Ponyville as you can get without letting some pony know that you’re in the sky above them.
A sigh leaves your lips as you squirm backwards over the fluffy material, making sure you’re invisible to any pony on the ground below. No hanging mane or tail, no holes in the cloud, nothing but you, a few stray clouds, and the blue sky above. You are completely alone with your thoughts.
You scowl into the white material. You really hate this.
It feels like you’re hiding from every pony, trying to keep yourself invisible to him or her. But that’s not you. That was never you.
You are Rainbow Dash, the fastest pegasus in Equestria, famous for being the first mare to ever perform the legendary Sonic Rainboom as just a filly. Now… you’re able to pull it off almost on command, straight up from the ground! There isn’t a pony alive that can match your speed.
You’re supposed to be surrounded by ponies that adore you, fillies and colts who want to be like you, mares and stallions who want to fly like you… or with you. You aren’t supposed to be hiding from the world, cowering away like you’re fragile. You’re not.
You’re strong. You’re invincible. You’re Rainbow Dash, Element of Loyalty, Master of the Sonic Rainboom. There’s no reason for you to feel like you do now. You know you’re strong. You know it like Twilight knows magic. It’s innate to you.
It’s who you are.
It’s not in you to just stop something, no matter what any pony says. You never stop defending your friends. You never stop trying to fly faster. You never stop anything until you’ve done what you set out to do. That’s what makes you Rainbow Dash.
Even if you can’t see a way out, you fly until you find one.
A cocky grin spread across your features.
You welcome it with open hooves, because it comes with an idea. It’s not an idea that can help Twilight, but it’s the only one you have. Spreading your wings, flexing your legs, you look up into the blue sky. With a strong flap of your wings, you launch yourself into the endless blue.
You’re going to fly. You’re going to fly for as long as you can. You’re going to fly until you can think of an idea to help Twilight.
You collapse on the cloud beneath you without breath in your lungs.
Momentarily, you’re glad the cloud was there, because you know the ground wouldn’t have been nearly as kind to your harsh landing. At least the cloud is soft and forgiving to your fallen form.
You hold back a grimace as your wings slowly relax, stiff from the long endless flight you had pushed yourself through. You don’t bother to let them flex back to your sides. It’s much more comfortable to let them hang out and open over the cloud.
It’s dark out now.
You’ve known that for a while, but you didn’t pay attention to the sky. You were too busy thinking. You only have a faint memory of the sun setting, falling over the horizon in what you are sure was a brilliant display of blue, lavender, and gold.
All you really know, and all you care to remember, is that it’s nighttime now. There’s no other way to say it’s nighttime other than to show that the stars are out and the sky is black.
The cool night air is more than generous to your tired wings. You feel the perspiration on your coat and feathers chill under the air. It makes your muscles shiver with an odd sense of pleasure. Normally you’d be seeking the nearest water pool to cool yourself off after a flight like the one you just took, but Luna’s sky is taking care of that for you.
A groan leaves your lips as you flip yourself over, forcing yourself to lie on your back as you stare up into the sky. Your body may be enjoying the cold air, but you’re still as sore as Applejack’s rear legs after a day of apple bucking.
You’ve been tired and sore before. It’s nothing new to you. You’ve been flying for years, training for just as long to hone your skills as the fastest pegasus in Equestria. Resting is the first thing you do after a long workout, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do now.
But usually, when you stop flying to rest, it’s to fall asleep, to let yourself enjoy the soft material of a cloud while you let your body recover. But again, you’re not letting yourself sleep. You can’t. You still haven’t thought of a way to help Twilight.
It was easily hours, very possibly half a day, of non-stop flying. Flying from dawn to dusk in the blind hope of finding an idea somewhere in the sky. But, you found nothing. Nothing but tired limbs as the blue sky fell away for the stars above.
You grit your teeth, angry with yourself. This is your problem; you should be able to fix it. Just like everything else. You’ve screwed up before, tons, but you’ve always made good on correcting it. But now, you can’t even dream up an idea of how to make up with Twilight.
A sigh leaves you, slipping through your teeth. It’s hard to tell if it’s out of aggravation, fatigue, or annoyance. There is one thing it definitely is though. Your fault.
You look up, and you see the stars above you.
There’s nothing blocking your view of them. Every white dot in the sky is visible to your eyes. They all sit there across the black canvas, shining across your vision.
You were never a star gazer, no matter how much time you spent in the sky. It’s not that you never noticed them, it’s just that you never cared to study them. You don’t care about how many there are, or how far away they are, or what makes them so special. You’re not Twilight Sparkle.
You know as well as any pony in Ponyville the adoration the lavender unicorn has for the night sky. She had every single spark of light memorized by location and name, picking out patterns you wouldn’t be able to see. One side of you wants to laugh at the idea of memorizing details like that.
No pony is ever going to walk on the stars or be able to use them in some special way. They’re just there, simple as that. To you, they’re like the mountains to the north or the seas to the west and east. Maybe they can be a marker for remembering where you are, but they’re never going to move for you, or change for you. You’re not Princess Luna.
You raise your hoof over your head, watching as your tired forelimb blocks the faint light from each star.
It’s almost fun to you, watching as your hoof slowly blocks them out one by one, like an unseen force is controlling them. But like you know, like you told yourself, you’re not Princess Luna. You can’t control the stars, no more than you can control anything magical.
It’s fun to pretend though, make believe that you are some sort of alicorn princess. Like a fillyhood story of growing up and becoming something more than what you currently are. A sigh leaves your lips as you let your hoof fall back to the cloud you're on, feeling it bounce off the fluffy material.
You gave up those kinds of fantasies a long time ago. You stopped dreaming of being given things and started dreaming of earning things. You didn’t want to be given anything, not unless you proved yourself worthy of it.
Still though, you can’t help but think how much easier life would be if you could do anything you wanted. Change the weather with a flick of your head, teleport anywhere you wanted with just a thought, even moving the sun, moon, and stars above.
The idea hits you hard enough to earn a small gasp of air.
You twist on the cloud, standing to your tallest as you crane your neck to look at the night sky. Your pink eyes trace the stars like a map. You search for the brightest of them, connecting them with invisible lines. Your neck twists left, then right, and then your body spins to see the rest of the sky.
Just like the blue sky of the day, the dark skies of night are just as endless, just as large, if not larger. There are so many stars, so many possibilities.
The idea in your mind doesn’t just take root. It starts to grow.
You don’t wait to think about it; you don’t hesitate to spread your wings again. This is the idea you had spent all day searching for, the one possibility that you have, to make Twilight listen to you.
You don’t know that it will work, but there’s nothing telling you that it can’t.
Your wings carry you through the night air, letting you soar like a ghost below the stars, silent and unseen. You know where you are going, it’s impossible not to see you.
You ignore that faint reminder in the back of your mind, that shadow of a doubt that won’t leave you. It’s chasing you, haunting you, holding on to you. But you don’t stop. You’re faster than it. You can outfly it. And once you do, your idea will turn into a plan, and that plan will help fix your problems.
It’s going to work. It has to work.
You know it will.