//------------------------------// // The Starting Gate // Story: Sisters Forever // by Arya Stark //------------------------------// “Name?” “Lu-…Midnight Stroll.” “For?” She hesitated, and then decided; “Fillydelphia.” If she said Canterlot, feared her identity would be discovered all too easily. “Step into the sling, please.” Luna could feel the excitement ebbing from the crowd above her, adding to the pace of her hammering heart. Nerves made her pelt tingle, and under her borrowed leather racing mask, her pelt was damp from sweat. The sling wrapped around her middle, lifting her into the air. As the pony at the other end held her up, a status recorder wrote down her weight. While another measured her wing span, she was able to see above and over the race course. She knew it would be no ordinary race course – what races had she known that were underground?! – and her first view confirmed it. The course itself was a trail between the jagged rocks sticking from the ceiling; stalagmites, if she could remember, or where they stalactites? Either or, the deadly cave teeth were sticking out from the bottom and the top, making a tight and dangerous narrow course to dodge through. She figured she was smaller than the rest, so her dodging skills would come to handy. Then the course disappeared into dark worm tunnels, separate caves, and how deep they went in and what was inside, she could only guess. Letting her gaze travel further to her left, she saw another opening to the other end of the track near the finish line, where racing officials were busy copying down the information the officials taking the racer’s stat got, a runner in-between buzzing between the two ends. Her sling was lowered, and once on her own four hooves again, she hoofed her way over to the starting gate, letting an official pin a large number onto the side of her racing attire; a large 15. Once the official was sure it was pinned on securely, he jerked his muzzle to the corresponding gate with the bold numbers on it, the white paint old and chipping. The gates themselves were rusty, bits of corrupted metal falling off as the gate swung open for her. Luna stepped in hesitantly, her gaze narrowing in on the slim opening, just enough for her to stand in there. As soon as she was in, the doors behind her clanged shut with a resounding sound, and she couldn’t help but shudder lightly as a shiver traveled up her spine. The gate reminded her too much of a cage, and her hooves clattered anxiously on the cave floor. Bars separated her from the other racers. To her right, number 16 was a large burly pony sporting a checkered white and blue racing mask and shuffled in, looking like his bulge could hardly fit into the gate. His wings had to be twice the size of hers, and she noticed the orange wing feathers looked unusually groomed and polished, something that her sister would do. Luna briefly wondered where her sister was, and how furious Celestia would be once she discovered that Luna had pulled the wool over her eyes. She felt a small stab of guilt, but quickly shook her mane with a snort. She could worry about her sister later, she had a race to focus on. To her left a smaller red mare entered the gate, her leather mask a solid deep blue. She was number 14, with her deeper maroon wings furled gently at her side. She looked more fit for the race, a long slender body that would have an easier time slipping through the cave obstacles than number 16. “A scrawny little filly, aren’t you?” Luna’s ears swiveled to her right again, and her gaze followed, realizing that the large stallion, number 16 had spoken. He leered at her through the bars, nostrils flaring as he tried to pick up her scent past the overwhelming smell of cavern mold. “Beg your pardon?” she spoke politely. The stallion snorted, tossing his mane proudly. “I didn’t know they let fillies in the race.” “I’m no filly; I reached my ten-and-eighth name day just a few months ago, sir.” She corrected him. “Right, so just a filly,” the stallion smirked. Luna flicked her ear, turning away, refusing to be roused up into an argument. But the mare to her right had caught wind of the conversation, and was eyeing Luna up curiously. “You do look rather young,” she offered innocently. “Does your mother know you are here?” Luna gritted her teeth, trying to keep her pelt from prickling in anger. She knew that all she had to do was reveal that she was the princess, and they would take back their words instantly, and the whole stadium would be lowering a knee at her. Celestia would love it, but it would take away the essence of the race for Luna. She reveled in the competition, and didn’t want any other pony feeling obligated to give her any advantages in the rivalry for the race. She planned to win fair and square. But as her gaze traveled to peek at the figures in the next few gates, she couldn’t help but wonder if she even had a chance of winning. Her opponents looked like seasoned racers. But before any doubts could coil around in her mind too much, there was a squeal overhead as a megaphone was turned on, making all the ponies groan, but it ensued silence, which Luna supposed worked better than barking for attention. “Testing…testing…ah ha! Welcome everypony, to the 13th annual Valerian race!” A cheer bloomed through the crowd, and the competitors in the gates whinnied, adding their voices to the crowd. But Luna stayed frozen in her gate. 13th annual race?! That meant that this was a developed event, and the fact that she hadn’t known about it until now didn’t settle right in her stomach. Was it a secret for a reason? What would her parents think of it? “..Put your hooves together for new racers and seasoned alike!” the announcer was going on, oblivious to Luna’s anxiety. “Today we have our three year champion, and Solar Dancer!” To her dismay, the large pony, 16, tossed his head and whinnied loudly for the crowd, rearing the best he could in the gate for show. Luna felt dread gather in her gut as she realized her judgment had been wrong. The announcer was talking about the course now, and she forced herself to pay attention. “…meander through sharp turns, jagged rocks, and other rumored dangers in the cave! Twists underground, passages too narrow for some wings! This isn’t just a race; this is survival of the fittest!” When the crowd erupted into another excited cheer, Luna suddenly wondered if she had made a bad decision. “And now the racers! In gate one, mare Slender Tender! Gate two, stallion Table Dancer! Gate three, last year’s runner up, Mud Skipper! In gate four...” Luna let her gaze travel among the crowd, wondering if she could catch a glimpse of Forest Canter before the race started. She wondered what he was thinking, and if he would feel the same nerves about the race as she did. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had known about the race all along, and how many more of the residents in her castle knew. The thought disturbed her. “…Number fifteen, Midnight Stroll!” Luna jerked her gaze back when she realized they had said her undercover name, and she forced herself to rear her head and give a little whinny. But her cry sounded small and lost, and Solar Dancer snickered, glaring at her. “Dead meat,” he decided with a sneer. “You will be dead meat the second the bell rings.” Luna shifted in the gate, a sudden burn of fierceness in her gut burning low, then traveled through her body with fiery intenseness. “Not today,” she growled, centering herself. The names were all called, and now the countdown had started. 10…. Was it her imagination, or did she hear Celestia’s whinny? 9….8…7… No, no, that was definitely her whinny. But from where?? 6…5…4… Luna chanced giving the crowd one last recon. 3…2…. There! She caught sight of her in the highest riser, in the gloom, and saw her sister rearing, barely able to make out her expression past the cloak over Celestia’s face. She was desperately trying to communicate something to Luna, but the fledgling moon princess was at a loss. …1! There was a loud clang, and a flurry of hooves as the ponies raced out, gaining speed before they hit the white line where they were required to take off. Luna cursed violently, lunging after them, her hooves a flurry as she loosened her wings at her side, letting them catch air before she reached the white line. Leaping into the air, she snapped her wings open, stroking them down hard to gain altitude, her tail streaming after her. With a few more wing strokes, she reached the herd of racers again, and the race officially began.