//------------------------------// // Illusion of the Past // Story: Vanishing Act // by Axel IV //------------------------------// The votes have been cast, and the winner... Is the Soarin Spitfire flashback! For those of you waiting on the Sky Strike and Starlight flashback, it will also be coming. Think of it like this: The best is being saved for last. Thank you all for your participation! Spitfire sat in her office, a fresh new stack of papers sitting at the corner of her desk. Her small container of ink was fresh out, and her quill pen sat idly in her desk drawer. She wore her military wonderbolt uniform decked out with shimmering metals and gleaming badges, a pair of sunglasses over her fiery eyes. Her mane was slicked back like it was for her shows. "Stupid paperwork," she scoffed, "being captain of the wonderbolts isn't worth it sometimes." Spitfire could hear the wind rush by her windows behind her, and she turned to watch the trainees in flight practice. Being a wonderbolt was something she would never take back, but sometimes she felt that she should be out there flying with the cadets instead of being stuck inside doing paperwork. But the sooner she finished signing the documents the sooner she could get outside. "Soarin!" she hollered from her room, "where's my ink?! I want to get this stuff over with now!" A few moments passed before Soarin opened up the door, a small container of ink in his hoof. "Gee," he frowned, "you could have asked nicely!" Spitfire rolled her eyes with a smile, digging into her drawer to yank out her quill. Soarin set the ink onto her desk before looking outside, watching the young flyers with a gleam in his eye. "Isn't it funny?" he chuckled, "we used to be the ones out there working our flanks off in Celestia's hot sun. I remember our first day of the tryouts." "Yeah," Spitfire smirked, "you woke up with a hangover and you barely managed to make it the first day. I, on the other hoof, got a perfect score in teamwork and technique." "Which is why you're the captain," Soarin smiled, "it's incredible how far we went in order to get here. We started as some punks off the street with nowhere to go in life. I guess we have Sky Strike to thank for that, huh?" "Nah, he said it himself," Spitfire replied, taking out a fresh sheet of paper. "It's your determination that will push you. I'm just here to do my best to guide you to the stars." she quoted. "But he really did get us onto our hooves, didn't he?" "I'm surprised that he put up with us," Soarin chuckled, "well, more like put up with you. Man, Spit, you're crazy, but back then you were really crazy." Spitfire twitched, "You're one to talk," she glared, "well, you weren't as crazy as you were stupid." Soarin chuckled at the remark, reaching his hoof back to scratch the back of his mane. "Yeah," Soarin gave her a nostalgic smile, "I just wish we could have said goodbye." Spitfire said nothing, but she stopped moving her quill. "Anyways, I gotta get back to work." He waved, turning to head out of her door. "Make sure that paperwork doesn't kill you... the wonderbolts anniversary show is coming up, and we need our captain!" Spitfire watched him leave, setting her sunglasses down onto her desk. "I just wish we could have said goodbye," she repeated, closing her eyes. "No. I just wish... I could say that I was sorry." Her mind began to wander back to the old days, her childhood with Soarin in Clousdale... and when they had their first meeting with Sky Strike. It was something that she would never forget. Eleven years ago... Spitfire knew Cloudsdale's streets like the back of her hoof. She knew where all the stands were in the marketplace, the factories far away in the industrial district, the large manors towering over one another in the upper districts, the homes and schools in the suburban districts, and every monument and every government building downtown. The Cloudsdale Stadium, the biggest attraction of the city, had its own large cloud island off to the side. She often spent her nights gazing at its wonders, day dreaming of performing there. She had a perfect view of it from her room in the orphanage. Like most cities, Cloudsdale had its darker side. The lower district sat on a large, dark cloud, with cheaply constructed cloud buildings and streets. The poor and the homeless made the district their home, scraping by with just the skin of their teeth. The orphanage was smack dab in the middle of it all, surrounded by lowly thieves and criminals. Crime, a rare activity in Equestria, was what ponies resorted to when they had nothing in the poor districts of Clousdale and Manehattan. Spitfire was no exception. The teen mare shivered, clutching her worn brown jacket and shredded white scarf to her fiery colored body. Her mane hung loose and unkempt over her face, and she had to repeatedly blow on her bangs to keep them out of her eyes. Sitting on the corner of the eroded street, Spitfire sat alone. A few loud voices echoed from the house behind her and she shook her head, rolling her eyes. "I told you it wouldn't go well," she said, hearing the door open behind her. A teen stallion stumbled out of the door, his coat the color of the sky and his hair a dark blue. He wore a bulky black pleather jacket, a red scarf tied around his neck. He groaned, rubbing his cheek with his hoof. "Well, I thought maybe this time it'd be different, Spit." Soarin replied, smirking at his best friend. "I thought that maybe this time my marefriend's- I mean, ex-marefriend's parents would accept an orphan as her coltfriend. This is the fourth time I've been wrong." "Yeah?" Spitfire snorted, "well, for good reason. Parents can't be trusted, you know. We of all ponies should know that." Soarin frowned, "Well, not really. I really didn't know my parents, Spit. I wasn't abandoned like you- OW!" Spitfire had whipped around, clocking Soarin in the other cheek with her hoof. "You aren't making it better, Soarin!" Spitfire growled, crossing her hooves over her chest. "I hate adults... in the end, they only want you to succeed so that they can brag about how they 'made' you that way... and they expect you to take care of them when they get old. If you don't reach their expectations they'll just drop you off somewhere." "I don't know, Spit..." Soarin frowned, rubbing his other cheek now. "I mean, I've seen a lot of happy kids with their parents... I'm sure if we ever get adopted, we could see- OW!" Spitfire swung around, slapping Soaring right in the muzzle. "Foster parents are worse!" Spitfire glared, "since you aren't their kid, they'll do whatever they want to... they'll- they'll touch you, they'll hurt you... they just want somepony to clean up after them. It's not like they really want you." "Spit, are you really looking at the big picture? I mean-" Spitfire raised her hoof, making Soarin flinch- "I mean, um, you're right." "Good, I'm glad you see it my way." Spitfire smiled, patting Soarin lightly on the head. "Anyways, come one. The applestand is about to close, and I heard they have a few more baskets left from Sweet Apple Acres." Spitfire took off into a walk with a wide grinned Soarin strolling up beside her. "Do you think they'll have enough to make an apple pie?" Soarin asked excitedly, salivating at the thought of the delicious meal. "It depends on how many we can take back with us," Spitfire chuckled, "but if we get enough, I'm sure Miss Goldenbloom will make one right up!" "I can't wait!" Soarin exclaimed, "so, where's this applestand?" "Well, it's in the downtown marketplace..." Soarin's pupils shrunk to pinpricks. "T-The downtown marketplace?!" he stuttered, "um, Spit, we aren't exactly, well, welcomed there..." "It'll be fine!" Spitfire chuckled, "we'll be like ninjas. Come on, I'll race you there!" Her wings sprung out from her sides and she crouched, gathering the strength in her legs to propel her up into the sky. Her feathers immediately caught the wind and she soared upwards, ignoring the sharp, chilly air cutting into her face. Spitfire loved flying. Up in the skies and the clouds she felt free, like she felt she could do anything. All pegasi could fly, but when she did it she felt so liberated. Like there was no earth to tie her down and no gravity to work against her. She knew Soarin felt the same, and if they weren't planning their cheap schemes or hanging out at the coliseum they were in the air. Soarin darted up next to her, a wide smile displayed on his lips. "No fair, Spit!" he laughed, "you know you're fast than me! No way I can beat you!" "You never know unless you try, Soarin!" Spitfire laughed, spinning through the air, "come on, Soarin! Lighten up! Do a barrel roll!" Soarin rolled his eyes but laughed with her, following her as they glided elegantly through the wind. They turned heads with their forms, catching the eye of a few laughing fillies and colts as they tried desperately to follow them, scampering on the ground while their wings fluttered at their sides. Soarin gave them a nod and a wink, flying right behind Spitfire as she finally descended into the heart of Clousdale. Downtown Clousdale was much cleaner, brighter, and happier than the lower district. It's buildings were tall, its ponies friendly to one another. Easy chatter rang out on the streets and in the air as pegasi flew throughout the city, almost crowding the airspace and making it a tad difficult for Spitfire and Soarin to land. "Look at all these ponies," Spitfire frowned, "they don't look like they ever had a worry in their lives... I bet they don't even know what it's like to go hungry for days without any money." "I don't know, Spit," Soarin shrugged, "you're just kinda assuming that because of what they look like. Miss Goldenbloom always-" "Whatever, Soarin." Spitfire rolled her eyes, landing softly onto her yellow hooves. "Let's not talk about that now... we have some apples to eat." She licked her lips, merging into the crowd and blending into the citizens. Soarin followed suit, glancing around nervously for any pony officers out and about. "You sure this is safe, Spit?" Soarin whispered, moving his scarf up to cover his mouth. "I mean, we are familiar faces..." "Just lay low, Soarin," Spitfire frowned, "geez, you're such a baby." Spitfire carefully navigated through the crowd, her eyes on the lookout for the shiny red treasures. She spotted a ridiculous long line in the distance and grabbed Soarin's scarf in her mouth, dragging him over. "Ack!" Soarin choked, trying to grip his scarf, "S-Spit... I can't..." "Sh!" Spitfire grunted, smiling when she finally released his scarf. "Target... acquired!" Everypony in Cloudsdale knew that the apples products from Sweet Apple Acres were the best. Soarin and Spitfire only had them a few times, but it was easy for them to say that they were the best fruits they have ever tasted. The stand brought lines and lines of ponies from all over Cloudsdale, and many of the pegasi had to go home without them. Spitfire was going to make sure she wasn't one of them. "There!" Spitfire pointed her hoof, "jackpot!" A happy stallion trotted away from the stand, a bucket of fresh red apples hanging from his mouth. His mane was colored like a rainbow, his coat a dark blue. "Um, Spit?" Soarin blinked, "he, um... he looks pretty intimidating..." Despite the happy look the stallion was giving out, Spitfire could see his rippling muscle tone underneath his coat. This stallion was definitely an athlete of some kind... and she had to admit that he was easy on the eyes. "It's no problem," Spitfire smiled, "I have yet to meet a pony that could match us in speed! Here's what we'll do..." Sky Strike was having a rather grand day. For once he got to take his daughter to school, his work got off early, and he even got a raise! Now he had the whole day to himself, and what better way to celebrate it then to have a nice meal with the special apples from Sweet Apple Acres? He had to admit that his best friend, Apple Marston, certainly outdid himself with this batch! I'm going to have to remind Apple Marston to give me a discount, Sky Strike thought with a smile. I'm the one that helped him establish a little stand here in the first place! He suddenly felt something bump into his chest and tumble onto the ground in front of him. Blinking, Sky Strike gazed down to see a young pegasus mare writhing on the cloudy pavement, curling up into a ball and writhing in pain. "Ow..." she groaned, her eyes closed shut, "help..." she gasped out, "it hurts..." "Moh mo!" Sky Strike gasped, the basket distorting the words in his mouth "Erm rum rom might?!" (Are you alright?!) "Um..." the young mare looked up at the stallion, "what?..." "Erm rum rom might?! Erm mew mreed Memimal amemin?!" (Are you alright?! Do you need medical attention?!) "Uh," the mare blinked, looking around nervously, "say... say that again?" "Emru rom remmy ret? Em mew mreed memimal merumale marmimamala!" (??????????) The mare groaned, hitting her forehead with her hoof. "Just put down the basket!" Sky Strike blinked, leaning his head down to set the basket onto the cloudy streets. Suddenly out of nowhere a blue streak zipped by, snatching away his fresh batch of apples before lifting up and disappearing into the sky. The mare laughed, "Sucker!" she snickered before leaping into the air, taking flight after the thieving stallion. Sky Strike stood on the street, watching them with a gaping mouth. Spitfire laughed, spinning in circles beside Soarin, who had the basket clutched in his jaws. "That was a cinch!" she grinned, "no way anypony could catch up to us now!" "One does not simply escape Sky Strike," a cool, familiar voice spoke from above her. "Especially when one has taken his apples..." Spitfire blinked, looking up to see the rainbow maned stallion with his forehooves crossed in front of his chest, a disappointed frown on his lips. "Soarin! Step on it and follow me!" Spitfire shrieked. Soarin nodded, his speed steadily increasing with the strong beat of his wings. Spitfire took a nosedive, aiming for a narrow alley crowded with unsuspecting pegasi. Soarin and Spitfire had done this countless times, dodging incoming ponies left and right with the smallest movement possible while retaining their speed. This is where they often escaped the authorities, and they've never ran into a pony or any structure with every attempt. The ponies around them gasped, jumping out of the way as the two teen pegasi shot past them, their bodies twisting and turning to avoid the obstacles in their way. Soarin kept a close hold on his apples, refusing to let one even drop from the basket. He was running on the thought of a delicious apple pie, and nopony was going to take that away from him. Spitfire and Soarin emerged from the crowded alley, victorious grins on their faces. They smashed their hooves together, laughing from their win. "Was that supposed to be impressive?" the blue stallion cooed behind them. "Because I'm still waiting..." Soarin and Spitfire turned their heads, looking absolutely horrified. The stallion didn't look like he even broke a sweat, his hooves stilled crossed with his wings beating softly into the air. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he pointed a hoof directly in front of them. "Look out!" He called, pulling the breaks. Soarin and Spitfire glanced at each other before turning to see the giant cloud wall in front of them. Everything went black. Before Spitfire could open her eyes, a wonderful smell invaded her nostrils. An unwelcome pain burned on her forehead and she groaned in response, finally cracking open her eyelids. The bright light in the room gave her a headache, but she gritted her teeth and pushed past it. Sitting up, she took a quick moment to observe her surroundings. She was in what appeared to be some other pony's room. The walls, because they were made from clouds, were pure white, and held up numerous pictures. There were two dressers side by side, near the doorway with a desk in the corner. A slightly cracked open window sat on the wall directly towards her left, overlooking the suburban streets. She glanced down, realizing that she had been laying in a very soft bed. And it was very warm. She heard snoring, and Spitfire looked to her right to see Soarin lying peacefully beside her, a bandage wrapped around his head. Frowning, she slowly brought up her hoof to touch the similar material on her own head. "What?" she blinked, "where the hell am I?" She heard a voice coming from the door and she slowly slid off the bed, creeping as quietly as she could. She pressed her ear against the cloud door, listening for anything suspicious coming through. ♪ I've been really tryin', baby! Trying to hold back these feelings for so long! ♪ Spitfire nearly threw up in her mouth. Whoever was singing... was terrible. She slowly opened the door and took a quick look around. There was a room at the end of the hallway that was slightly open. She could spot wonderbolt posters on the walls, along with brightly colored sheets with action figures lying on the floor. "A parent, huh?" she frowned, her voice full of disgust. ♪ And if you feel, like I do baby! Come on, oh come on! ♪ She sighed, shaking her head. "What the hell's going on?" she grumbled, turning the opposite way of the child's room. The wonderful smell grew more powerful until she entered the kitchen, its deliciousness overwhelming. Her eyes widened as she spotted the stallion they had attempted to steal the apples from... wearing an apron? ♪ Let's get it on... ♪ He sang before spinning in a rather flamboyant circle, his eyes widening when he spotted a gaping teenage mare in his kitchen. "Aaaaaah!" He yelped, nearly tripping over his own hooves. He finally regained his footing and looked up at her, a serious expression on his face. "It's not what it looks like," he gulped, "I was just... um... I'm actually very manly." He stuck out his chest, the apron suddenly becoming undone and flopping onto the floor. He glanced at it nervously before smiling at the teen, scratching the back of his mane sheepishly. "What the hell's going on?" Spitfire glared, "who are you?" "My name's Sky Strike," the stallion smiled, "and, well, you and your friend back there flew head straight into a highly compacted cloud wall. Knocked you two right out, so I brought you guys back here." He turned, looking down at his oven with a grin, "And the pie's almost done!" "Pie?" Spitfire blinked, peeking in the oven and keeping her distance. "Why... why are you baking a pie?" "Well, when I was carrying you and your friend, the only that came out of his mouth was pie." Sky Strike shrugged, closing the oven. "I had enough apples, so what the hay! I like pies. Pies are good." Spitfire's eye twitched, her feathers ruffling. "Yeah, right," she growled, "you're just kidnapping us, aren't you? I bet there's some sort of date rape drug in that pie you're cooking." Sky Strike blinked, looking over at his oven. "That wouldn't be fun... I'm going to eat the pie too... does this mean we're all getting raped?" "I'm being serious here!" Spitfire shouted, "I... I should call the police on you!" "And are you going to tell them about how you and your friend should be arrested for attempted robbery?" Sky Strike smirked, "I'm pretty sure that I have several friends as witnesses, and you wouldn't want that now would you?" Spitfire's jaw snapped shut, and she found herself locked in a staring contest with the silly stallion. "I don't believe for one second that you're innocent here," Spitfire frowned, "you probably... did things to us when you brought us back." "Why would I do that?" Sky Strike shook his head, "I'm married, and I'm not interested in colts." he glanced at her and smirked, "or underdeveloped mares." Spitfire flushed a bright red, her ears twitching in irritation. "W-What did you just say?!" Spitfire growled, "I'll have you know that other ponies think I'm mature and attractive for my age!" Sky Strike chuckled, "Whatever you say, kid. By the way, what's your name? I don't think I caught it." "Spitfire," she answered, "and you better remember it... because I'm going to be famous one day!" "Oh?" Sky Strike cocked his head, "enlighten me. What makes you think that?" "Well... I..." her voice drifted, and her gaze dropped to the floor. Sky Strike watched her silently, a small smile slowly creeping onto his lips. "You know, you're a very talented flier," he stated, "you had me surprised when you and your friend flew flawlessly through that crowd of ponies in the alley. That takes tight turns and excellent control... you only see that in advanced fliers, and they're years older than you." Spitfire looked up at him and blinked, not expecting such a compliment. "You're saying... I'm a good flier?" "Well," he shrugged, "you've certainly have what it takes. But you guys are a mess out there, and your skills need severe polishing. "Hmph," Spitfire grumbled, "it's not like we could hire a teacher or go to flight camp or anything." "Oh?" Sky Strike blinked, "why do you say that? I'm sure your parents would be more than happy to help you two out." "What parents?" Spitfire inquired, glaring hard at the stallion. "Soarin and I are orphans. We live back in the lower district, and the orphanage barely makes enough money to keep everypony there. And I hate you adults," she growled, "always looking down on us kids... I've seen parents toss us out into the streets because we can't live up to your 'expectations' or... or you can't afford us anymore." Spitfire turned away so that he couldn't see her face. "I hate parents more than anything." She couldn't see him, but Sky Strike stared at her, his expression full of empathy. He didn't know exactly what she was going through, but he knew that it was tough. Both her and her friend had so much skill and talent... and he didn't want to see that go to waste either. A thought came into mind and he smiled. "Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at four in the afternoon in front of the coliseum." Sky Strike stated suddenly. Spitfire looked up and blinked, "What?" "Advanced flight lessons," he smiled, "I teach it, and first time's free. Why don't you and your friend show up?" Spitfire blinked, looking at Sky Strike like he was insane. "You're... offering to teach us?" Spitfire blinked, "why? We tried to steal your apples..." "Like I said, first time's free." Sky Strike smiled, hearing the ding of the oven. "Why don't you come by and check it out? And if you want to stay, I'm sure that we could work out some kind of deal." He put on cooking mitts on his hooves and carefully pulled the pie out, setting it onto the kitchen table. Spitfire frowned, "You bring us to your house, bake us a pie, and now you're saying that you're willing to teach us how to fly? No thanks." She shook her head, "I don't accept charity." "But yet you steal," Sky Strike shrugged, "why don't you give this a chance? Come for just one day. And if you don't like it, you don't have to ever come back or see me again. It's a win-win situation for you." "I smell pie..." Soarin called, making his way into the kitchen, "and it smells... delicious..." Spitfire growled, biting Soarin's tail. "No thanks," she growled, her voice muffled by Soarin's tale. "You're creeping me out. Come on, Soarin. Let's get out of here." "B-But the pie!" Soarin whimpered, his hooves dragging on the floor from Spitfire's tugging, "the piiiiiiiiiiie!" Sky Strike watched them leave, the door slamming shut behind him. He sighed, turning to look at the pie before noticing a pile of clothes on top of one of his chairs. "Huh, they left their things..." He blinked, his voice trailing off before his lips curled into a devilish grin. "So let me get this straight," Soarin frowned, "the guy offered us one free flying lesson, a totally delicious smelling apple pie, and you were so overwhelmed that you dragged me out of there and forgot our only jackets and only scarfs?" "I wasn't overwhelmed!" Spitfire bit back, crossing her forehooves. "He... he was creeping me out!" "He's married, has a kid, and he bandaged us up after our accident. He didn't even call the police or anything and you were creeped out? No offense, Spit, but I think you're a little off your rocker." Spitfire grumbled, turning in her bed so that her back faced Soarin. The two had shared a room ever since they first met, having a bond similar to brother and sister. The cloud walls around them were just like the city; they were dark, grey, and were very cold to the touch. Just like the entire lower district, the orphanage was in desperate need of renovations. Soarin sighed, shaking his head on the pillow. "Look... tomorrow's Monday. I'm sure he's expecting us to come by and try to get our clothes back, so why not accept his free flight lesson too?" "I don't need somepony like him to teach me," Spitfire pouted, "he's gonna touch me and stuff! He won't be able to keep his hooves off of me!" "Spitfire, I don't think anypony wants to get their hooves on you." Soarin grinned. Spitfire answered him by throwing her pillow directly at his face, nearly knocking him off of the bed. "Look, I don't want to see that guy ever again!" Spitfire humphed, "he's... he's just weird!" Soarin gave her a look. "Are you only acting this way because it's weird that a complete and total stranger who's an adult is being this nice to you? Excluding Miss Goldenbloom, I'm pretty sure he'd be the first parent to not look at you in disgust." "Whatever..." Spitfire grumbled, clutching her blankets into a bundle. "I don't need you to tell me what my life is like..." Soarin sighed, reaching up and combing back his mane. "Mares," he rolled his eyes, "I'm never going to figure out how to handle you guys... anyways, I'm going to go see him tomorrow to grab my things. If you want to tag along too that's completely fine. I won't stop you and I won't force you." "Fine!" Spitfire threw her hooves into the air. "Go! Do it! See if I care!" Soarin rolled his eyes and tossed her back her pillow before sinking into his own. "Alright," he smiled, "goodnight, Spit." Spitfire didn't answer, and instead wrapped her raggedy blankets around her body like a cocoon. She waited a few moments, hearing Soarin's familiar snoring soon filling the room. She sighed, shivering in her tattered blankets. Was her bed always this cold? The next day, Soarin emerged from the orphanage doorway, stretching out his wings and taking in a fresh breath of the chilly afternoon air. Celestia's sun hovered over the horizon, not quite touching its fine line. The business of the streets were soon dying down, the clopping of hooves growing quieter by minute. He looked up at the old clocktower in the center of town, checking the current time. "Three thirty," he smiled, "I should get to the coliseum in about ten minutes." He heard the door behind him opening, the shuffling of hooves approaching him. He grinned, turning his head to see Spitfire staring at the ground, a snarled expression on her face. "Look who decided to show up," Soarin chuckled, "you ready to fly on over?" Spitfire looked up, glaring at her friend. "I'm only going to get my clothes back... nothing else. I don't want to spend any more time near that guy than I have to." Soarin rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, Spit. Let's roll!" The teen pony duo took to the skies, catching the cold afternoon wind on their way to the coliseum. Spitfire shivered, grabbing at her absent scarf that should be wrapped around her neck. "Stupid pony," she grumbled, "he's totally planning this out..." They spotted the giant coliseum looking as brilliant and enormous as ever. The coliseum was used for flight shows, mainly for the wonderbolts. It was ancient, and legends say it was a place for fighting and slaughters during the time of Commander Hurricane's rule. Time had definitely treated the old structure well, and few repairs were needed to keep it going. "Why do you think we're meeting directly in front of it?" Soarin asked, spotting a group of gathering pegasi near its entrance. He spotted the athletic stallion from the day before, a pair of worn goggles resting around his head. "Who knows," Spitfire shrugged, "I just want to get my things and go." Spitfire and Soarin took a dive, landing softly on the coliseum cloud. Spitfire and Soarin were rather intimidated by group of ponies surrounding Sky Strike. They were expecting ponies their age, but what they got were stallions and mares looking to be either in their late teens or early adults. They were all fit, some rippling with tight muscles and imposing physiques. "Um," Soarin glanced around, "Spitfire, I'm a little scared... mares with jagged muscles make me queasy..." "Oh! There you two are! I was wondering when you were going to show up." Sky Strike chuckled, the crowd moving apart so he could get through. "I want my jacket and scarf back," Spitfire glared, "that's all." The pegasi gave the two teens an overwhelming stare, causing the two young fliers to take a small step back. "Hm," Sky Strike tapped his hoof on his chin, "I somewhat recall something like that... maybe a quick flight practice would jog my memory?" "You're joking," Spitfire blinked, "are you doing what I think you're doing?" Soarin nudged her, a small smile playing on his lips. "C'mon Spit! Let's just give it a shot!" Despite his energy and words, Soarin looked uneasy in the presence of the athletic pegasi. Spitfire glared hard at Sky Strike, her hooves twitching in anger. She had enough of this stallion... if the only way she could beat him would be at his own little game, so be it. "Fine," she growled, "we'll join you in your little lesson today. But afterwards I'm taking my stuff and leaving... and I don't plan on seeing you ever again!" Sky Strike grinned, "Sounds good to me! Everypony ready to start?" The pegasi all nodded, smiles played on their faces as they shifted their goggles over their eyes. "Oh!" Sky Strike blinked, "almost forgot about that!" he reached back into his saddle bags and tossed Soarin and Spitfire two pairs of goggles. Spitfire lifted her hoof, the goggles looping around her appendage. "You might need these," he smiled, "keeps the sweat out of your eyes along with the crazy wind. Alright, first we all have to get a little warmed up!" Spitfire and Soarin looked at each other and shrugged, slapping the goggles onto their faces. They both slightly crouched, their wings springing from their sides, ready to catch the wind and soar into the- "We're running two laps around the coliseum!" Sky Strike stated, "let's go, ponies!" Spitfire and Soarin almost fell over. "W-What?!" Spitfire blinked, watching the ponies take off in a dash. "W-What does running have to do with flying?! I thought these were flight lessons!" "Cardiovascular endurance among other things," Sky Strike smirked, "besides, you guys need to be a bit more 'chiseled'. It slows you down when you have some extra flap going on." Spitfire's face grew red from anger, grinding her teeth. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" she growled, "fine... you're on! Come on, Soarin!" Spitfire took off into a sprint, with Soarin hesitantly keeping up behind her. Sky Strike chuckled, pulling his goggles over his eyes before he trotted after them. For Soarin and Spitfire, the first lap came easy. Their second lap came like a nightmare. In her eagerness, Spitfire sprinted ahead of all the other ponies, leaving every single one in the dust with Soarin right behind her. When she finished her first lap, she was panting like a dog, sweat drenching her mane. She was barely running for the second lap, the other pegasi passing them with chuckles and smirks. Sky Strike finally made it up to her, trotting at her side without a visible drop of sweat on his body. "Lesson number one: pace yourself." he chuckled, taking off ahead of her. When the two teens finally finished their second lap, the others were completely refreshed and ready for some more. Spitfire nearly collapsed onto the cloud, leaning her side against coliseum wall. Her heart beat like a drum, a cramp clenching at her side, her lungs desperately trying to pull in some air. She glanced back, seeing Soarin flopped onto his back in exhaustion. "Okay, ponies!" Sky Strike grinned, "drop down and give me twenty wingups!" The pegasi all dropped down to the ground, their wings pumping their bodies up and down." Spitfire groaned, dropping to the ground. Her wings pushed hard against the cloud, her body working against gravity. Soaring rolled over, his own wings heaving to get himself up. "Come on, you two!" Sky Strike encouraged, "I've seen you two fly! This should be nothing!" Spitfire would've shouted back in anger if she could. For some reason her wings were already tired, her body feeling as heavy as lead. When the two teens finished their exercise they dropped to the ground, groaning at the burning sensation in their wings. Sky Strike chuckled, walking up and nudging Spitfire with his hoof. "See? You can do it if you try." he nodded, "now we can finally get on to the flying part. You two ready?" "Of... course..." Spitfire grunted, climbing onto her hooves, "I'll... show you what I can do!" Soarin got up as well, gritting his teeth to get on all fours. Sky Strike smiled, reaching his hoof forward to ruffle Spitfire's sweaty mane. "That's the spirit, kiddo." Soarin and Spitfire lay on their backs, the stars slowly twinkling into existence from the skies above. Their bodies were completely drained, their muscles tense and groaning at the slightest movement. The other pegasi were chatting with each other after practice, with most of them already gone. They were moving around like the practice was nothing, flying away almost as if it didn't faze them. The flight lesson consisted of drills, aerial stunts, and polishing techniques. Sky Strike had them perform move after move, watching them closely and giving them the best advice he could offer them. The other pegasi never teased them, and they often encouraged them or gave them tips whenever they had a chance. The two teens were completely overwhelmed by how friendly the others were, and that tension that was present earlier had completely disappeared. Spitfire was confused. Her muscles ached and quivered, but she somehow felt... refreshed. With Sky Strike's advice, she found her moves to be sharper, and she was in much better control of her stunts and tricks. Her wings had felt satisfied cutting through the air, and she even felt faster than before. Sky Strike waved goodbye to the last of his students before trotting over to the two exhausted teens. He turned, fumbling into his saddlebag before dropping their jackets and scarfs into a pile beside them. "You guys did great," Sky Strike smiled, "I don't think anypony has ever gotten through the full practice on their first time." Spitfire groaned, "You really are a demon..." Sky Strike chuckled, sitting onto his haunches between the teens. "How do you know so much about flying?" Soarin asked, wincing to turn his head. "Well," he smiled, "I was actually a runner-up for the wonderbolts." "You're joking..." Spitfire blinked, her mouth gaping. "Nope!" Sky Strike smirked, "I actually have a few pictures with Sonic Speed himself!" "Sonic Speed... the captain of the wonderbolts?!" Soarin gasped, "no way!" "Yep!" Sky Strike chuckled, "he came to me personally to ask me to join." "Wait," Spitfire cocked her head, "did you say no?" "I sure did!" Sky Strike nodded rather happily, "turned him right down!" "What?!" Spitfire and Soarin gasped simultaneously, their eyes wide. "Why?..." "I wanted to start a family," Sky Strike answered, "I wanted to marry the mare of my dreams... and now I have the cutest, greatest filly in the world as my daughter. I don't think I could ever ask for more." "You didn't want to be one of the most famous flyers in the world... because you wanted to start a family?" Spitfire asked, her voice coming in as a whisper. "Yep," Sky Strike confirmed, "a lot of other ponies think I'm crazy for that. But you can't have everything... and my daughter wouldn't be here if I made the other choice... and I can't bear the thought." Soarin and Spitfire laid silently on the cloud, with the latter contemplating Sky Strike's words. With her energy depleted, she somehow was able to think much more clearly than before. She turned to look at Sky Strike, his back to her face. The air was cold, the sharp wind feeling like ice on her sweat. But somehow... being next to him... She felt warm. "You said we could make a deal," she started, "if we decided to stay... right?" "I did," Sky Strike smiled, "I'm in charge of the weather team here in Cloudsdale... and it just so happens that two positions opened." Soarin looked over at Spitfire, his eyes filled with confusion. "Really?" she inquired, "would they be enough to pay for flight lessons?" "Enough to have a little extra for yourselves," Sky Strike looked back at her, his lips curled into a grin. "Are you saying that you're interested?" Spitfire glanced at Soarin who nodded his approval with his own smile. "I have to warn you that it's tough like this all the time," Sky Strike stated, "but if you stick with me and believe that you can make it... one day, you'll find yourselves where you always dreamed of being." Spitfire grinned, a gleam in her eyes that Sky Strike rarely saw. It was a gleam he hadn't seen since his old days training with the wonderbolts. It was the same gleam that he had seen in the eyes of Sonic Speed, the captain of the wonderbolts. "Count us in."