//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Falling in Style // Story: Strange Winds // by Caelum //------------------------------// Chapter 4: Falling in Style Terror. Absolute, mind numbing, terror, actually. That was the best possible term to describe the emotions rampaging through your psyche, as you plummeted 2000 feet to the bone crushing, life-ending, ground below. Now, your mind racing at speeds previously unbeknownst to Ponykind, you can’t help but smile at the irony of the whole situation. You had wanted to admire the hills from above, and now they rush up to greet you, like familiar friends. Then again, none of your friends want to kill you. At least, you hope not. ’Less than two days in this world, and I’m going to leave it with no true memories. And to make matters better, I’m going to leave the same way I arrived. In a crater.’ As soon as the smile appeared on your face, however, it vanished, only to be replaced by the pure terror in your mind as the instinctual fear of death took over coupled with a generous amount of panicked adrenaline shot straight from your brain into your nervous system. You feel the world seem to slow around you as your brain kicks into overdrive from the overwhelming emotion of fear all but took over. But even with the dead weight of you fear you notice something, another emotion in the further reaches of your mind growing rapidly to push out the gripping terror. The will, no, the need to survive. Having just arrived in this world you thought it was your right to live a bit longer than two damn days, most of which you weren’t even conscious for! At this realization all of the built up fear and anxiety drained from your complexion, only to be replaced by the cold, hard, face of determination. The determination to live, breathe, and, in all aspects, not become an unknown pony-pancake to be referred to as ‘that poor soul’, or ‘the terrible tragedy’. Gritting your teeth, you slowly begin to reposition you body so that your hind legs were outstretched behind you, and your forelegs pointed to the ground. The rushing currents forcing you to squint your eyes to see without your eyes watering, you slowly begin to re-extend your wings, still sore after being frozen paralyzed against your flank. As you continue to hurtle to the ground you begin to level yourself out, attempting to slow your rapid descent. With a painful whipping sound your wings catch the billowing air ripping past your slender frame. Wings flaring at the mercy of the wind you begin to pick up speed yet again with renewed vigour. You snap your wings back against your sides with a grimace. As you stare at the rapidly approaching ground a feeling of despair washes over you. However, instead of this unwelcome emotion sapping the last remaining ounce of your resolve it just fortifies it. You redouble your efforts to stabilize your breakneck descent, and you vaguely notice that you passed the point in the sky where the initial velocity from your first down stroke on the ground had faded. Your face takes on an expression of grim-faced contempt as your memory reminds you of your soon-to-be- fatal mistake. As you began to slow in the air you started to raise your wings, preparing for another mighty down stroke of the cream feathered wings, yearning for a higher altitude as the adrenaline of being so high up pumped through your system. You quickly realize that, though the risk of falling immediately onto your face was significantly less, the prospect was of maintaining a level balance and stable posture was more than just a gentle suggestion. It was a life or death necessity, and due to your current situation you had obviously wandered down the second path. As your wings had reached their peak in preparation for another mighty flap, your center of balance (and therefore your entire being) began to roll to your right side and in a panicked reaction you twisted your body to the left performing a full barrel roll with your wings, much like they had earlier in the forest, reflexively whipping downwards with astounding force. Thankfully you had been facing the right way up when the cream coloured appendages caught buckets of air and propelled you far past the thin cloud layer and into the slightly thinner oxygen levels of the higher altitudes. Your wings, your only hope for salvation, at this point, are frozen against your sides. Despite any attempts to move the lightly coloured wings, in your petrified state the appendages refused to budge. That was the beginning of the terrifying plummet you started just moments ago. You tried, yet again, to extend your wings against the wind, as it pinned the two feathered appendages against your sides. Tearing your gaze from the unnerving sight of your wings pinned to your sides, you realise with a cry of despair that you are able to make out individual details on the larger buildings of the town. Vague details, mind you, but still! Those buildings had been little more than multicoloured specks a few moments ago! With one final burst of effort, your wings spring open like an umbrella caught in a windstorm. You grit your teeth, and clench your eyes shut, as you prepare yourself for the socket wrenching pain of the wind hammering your wings without mercy, hell bent on keeping you within its vice-like grip of death. With a whimper you feel the beginning sensations of your wings giving way under the stress and pressure being put under them. You tense what you assume to be your primaries in a desperate attempt to keep the two protrusions, and the braking action they were providing for that matter, stable. With growing dread you can feel the pressure and stress building up in the sockets set in the nook just behind your shoulders in the small of your back. You squeeze your eyes shut in preparation for the wrenching pain you were about to feel as your wings were ripped with astounding force back into the slipstream of air behind you. Only the wrenching pain never came. Your eyes snap open, and you whip your head around to stare at the trembling appendages behind you. Your ruffled wings look as though they had just been through a baseball bat fight that they had brought a pillow to, after being pummelled by the harshest winds known to all pony-kind. Yet somehow the beaten, and battered, wings had won. There, just behind your shoulders, obviously on the precipice of their breaking point were your two fully outstretched wings. You turn your head back to the fast approaching ground, and blinked in confusion. All of a sudden you knew exactly what you needed to do. With no explanation whatsoever the information you needed to be able to pull yourself out of the steep dive was there. All in your head, seemingly unlocked from the dark recesses of your mind came forth multiple possible flight trajectories some complicated and some simple. There were also calculations of wind speeds and altitude to allow you know how long until you collided with the ground, and the locations of various updrafts and patches of dead wind to be wary of. Had you been thinking more deeply about the situation you might have realized that this newly discovered useful information could only have come from the vast memory banks still locked in the iron banded grip of your amnesiac attack. But currently your mind was focused on more, shall we say, pressing matters. Such as the daunting task of angling your trajectory so that it would bring you curving into the direction of the small cloud to your right, seeing it as the last piece of driftwood in a roiling sea, you direct yourself towards it. Hoping this last attempt to slow your trajectory could save you from becoming a pony-pancake. Almost expertly you begin to perform a combination of subtle adjustments to how your wings and different individual feathers within them were positioned, while ever so slightly leaning to the right, second by second coming closer to the cloud that was to save your life. It only took fifteen seconds, but to you they lasted an eternity. ***** Rainbow Dash flicked her tail contently. Happy with how she had oh-so-expertly beaten her previous record for sky clearing in under 8.5 seconds. Leaving Twilight shocked once again. Now that she thought about it though, something about the purple unicorn had seemed... off. Rainbow couldn’t quite place a hoof on it but there was something there, ’meh’ thought the self proclaimed (yet still not proven wrong) fastest flier in all Equestria, ’I’ll just ask the egghead later, she’s probably just freakin’ out about nothing again’ Reflecting on how her close friend had once enchanted a stuffed doll with some crazy spell just because she thought she was late for homework. Homework! Rainbow shuddered at the thought of one of the studious librarians more well known infamous ‘episodes’ , mentally making a note to check in on her ASAP to ensure nothing got out of hoof. “Ahhhh,” sighed the rainbow maned pegasus as she nestled deeper into the fluffy cloud for her nap, putting aside any of the days previous worries. Just before she retreated to the sweet reprieve of her daily afternoon rest period she heard a faint whistling sound. Confused she opened her eyes and scanned the sky. “Last time I checked nopony ever flew round this time.” She muttered under her breath pondering what the whistling sound could be. As the tone increased in pitch and volume the cyan blue mare stood up, scanning the sky more fervently for the source of the sound. Just when the sound reached a screaming crescendo and Rainbow had opened her wings with the intent to search in the air for the worrisome sound, the cloud which she had been using as shade from the sun above her shook, emitting a dull *WHUMP*, and an almost simultaneous *POP*, as the source of the odd whistling sound burst the cloud above a very surprised Rainbow Dash, and continued straight through the second cloud bursting it in a similar fashion as the previous one above. Unfortunately for the rainbow maned pegasus the aforementioned “second cloud” that the object had burst through just so happened to be the exact cloud that she was standing on. So, just as she began to comment on “What the buck” the cream coloured blur was doing, the solid cloud underneath her own hooves gave way, leaving the end of her sentence a high pitched yelp, as Rainbow entered freefall. She quickly righted herself in midair, though, and she tracked the fast moving cream hued blur, much like a hawk spotting its prey. Firing up her powerful wings Rainbow gave an evil grin, and she let out a snort. “So you think you’re fast, eh?” Shouted the annoyed pegasus after pumping her wings once, twice, and a third time before building up an impressive amount of speed for her size, “Let me show you what fast really is!” shouted Rainbow shooting off in the blink of an eye as she gave chase. As her crimson hued eyes tracked the blur she smirked as a single thought went through her mind. ’Somepony’s flank was about to get kicked’ ***** Whipping your head around you see the blue winged pony whom you had previously disturbed right herself in the air and start shouting something, just before turning your head back forwards. Wings flaring out behind you like dual parachutes you begin to rapidly dump the speed you had gained during you death defying descent. Now, however, with your newfound knowledge of flight theory and how your own wings worked, you couldn’t help but keep a stupid grin on your face as you decelerated with force. “Hey!” The shout just barely reached your ears over the roaring wind, you twist your neck so you can see past your, in your mind and somewhat truthfully, impressive wingspan. Behind you was the cyan blue pegasus that, judging by her unhappy expression, you had succeeded in making effectively and thoroughly annoyed. To make things better she was closing the gap fast. Looking forwards again you see the signs of a wind tunnel approaching, in response you straighten your wings stopping your rapid deceleration and begin to glide through the tunnel. Looking back you see the rainbow hued mane out of the corner of your eye, and you hear what seems to be an angry catcall after you. You don’t know why but this pegasus seemed to set your nerves on edge. As the cyan blue mare got closer you made up your mind about a certain number of things. One, the blue pegasus was indeed chasing you. Two, she was gaining on you fast. And three, she was pissed off beyond belief. Deciding upon your course of action in a millisecond you pump your wings downwards. You were no longer fearful of the vast expanse of sky with your newfound aviator knowledge. You rocket away from the approaching pegasus, ascending into the blue sky. Looking over your shoulder you see her expertly mirror your sudden ascent and begin to gain on you yet again. With a smirk you realise that she was taking the bait, just as you’d hoped. Seeing the last remaining clouds in the sky, you choose the one closest to you, straight above you, it was a little under 100 yards away. Pumping your wings harder your face sets into a grim mask of determination, staring daggers at the cloud you fail to notice the humour in the situation. Not less than a minute ago you were hurtling to the ground and required a cloud to stop, and now you required it again, but for vastly different reasons. As you close on your target, you can hear the constant *WHUP WHUP WHUP* of your rainbow maned pursuer, and right as the sound of her powerful wings are right on your tail, you touch into the cloud and as soon as it fully immerses you, your wings give a powerful beat sideways sending you slightly to the right. Concealed by the cloud your sudden transference of location goes unnoticed by the cyan pegasus as she zooms past with a confident “Got you now!” ’Not quite,’ you think to yourself as you do the equivalent of a back flip, so that your nose was facing the earth. You tuck your wings tightly against your sides, on purpose this time, and you begin to pick up speed, moving at a rapid rate back to the earth you hoped to find refuge in, should the pegasus not catch on to your ruse. Thinking of what you’re doing you suppress the urge to laugh out loud. The aspect of going this fast to the ground had been terrifying just moments before, but now after the miraculous unlocking of one of the many inaccessible memories and skills of your past flying was like second nature. As you begin to be able to pick out details on the rapidly approaching landscape yet again you prepare to open your wings to pull out of the dive. When the grasses and trees of the ground were no longer green blobs and smears you began to count off the distance to the ground. ’1500 feet.’ Calculating the distance rapidly in your head you tense your wings in expectation for the coming change of course. The ground rushing up to meet you getting closer by the second you gulp suddenly getting nervous flutters in your stomach as you think of what might happen if you mistimed your wing extension... ’1000 feet.’ You physically shake your head in an attempt to clear the mutinous thoughts from your head lest Panic begin another colourful commentary, focusing on the task at hoof. Nevertheless a bead of sweat rolls partway down your forehead before being whipped away by the wind. ’500 feet.’ As you reach the 500 feet mark you feel a multitude of different sensations, your heart hammering in your chest, the rapid expansion and decompression of your chest as your breathing increased immensely, and the involuntary muscle spasms of your wings as every instinct in your body was screaming at you to open the feathered appendages as the ground got even closer. Still you pushed on. ’400.’ So close. Risking a quick glance over your shoulder you see the rainbow maned pegasus emerge from the cloud looking around confused, turning your head back forwards your feeling of determination returns with renewed viciousness. ’350.’ Glancing back again, you can’t spot the tell tale rainbow mane against the light blue of the sky. You give a slight nervous huff at the sudden absence of your pursuer, ’no matter now,’ you think to yourself. ’250.’ So close to the point where your life would be decided you became intensely aware of everything in your surroundings; The roaring of the wind past your ears, the rushing feeling given to you by the buckets of adrenaline being injected into your system, the tightened clamp of your jaw as you gritted your teeth, and the building screaming sound of something pushing the limits of speed behind you. Whipping your head back you see what appears to be a silver cone falling after you, shrinking in size as it elongated due to the high velocities it travelled at. ’200.’ You briefly hear yourself shout “Now!” as your wings spring open on either side of you. Pulling up almost immediately you skim the top of a rather tall pine tree, very nearly spinning out of control. You right yourself, and turn sideways to dodge between the smallest of gaps between two more branched giants. Leveling out over a flat expanse of long grass you look back up again to see that the disk had become a silver spot in the sky. The screaming sound had become an ear piercing shriek, and the disk still seemed to be coming straight for you! Turning your head back in front of you, you tense your primaries ready to take evasive action. ’If I can just dodge it once then I can double back to-‘ your thought process is cut off by an explosive *KRAAACK-BOOOOOOOOOOMMM* behind you and a concussive wave of force slamming into your back as Rainbow Dash, unbeknownst to you, performed her signature Sonic Rainboom. ’Aw crap’ you thought as you began to ride the wave of pressure down to the rocks and solid ground below.