//------------------------------// // Prompt #18: Successor // Story: Ponywatching // by ThunderTempest //------------------------------// A Sonic Rainboom. The girl had pulled it off. Of course, Spitfire was relying on the words of her teammates; she’d been unconscious. Hardly a great first meeting, she’d say. Still, if even half of what Cloudsdale was saying about Rainbow Dash was true, Spitfire was sure that she’d be seeing more of the young flier. ***** The gala was a disaster, no two ways about it. Spitfire glanced around the destroyed ballroom, pointedly ignoring the nobles that were trying to get her attention. Her mind was flashing back over the events of the evening. Sure, Rainbow had been getting a bit show-offy towards the end of the night, but Spitfire could understand. She was meeting her heroes. Still, she’d shown a few pretty serious turns of speed- here one minute, gone the next, only a faint rainbow trail to mark where she’d been. Spitfire hadn’t seen anything like that for years. ***** If Spitfire was honest, the waterlift wasn’t all that impressive. Ponyville had only just scraped the 800 wingpower needed. On the other hoof, learning that initially Rainbow had been shooting for the record with 1000 wingpower, and dialled back her plan to getting the job done? Spitfire was getting more and more impressed with the young flier every time she saw her. ***** “If that’s what the Wonderbolts are all about,” said Rainbow Dash, clad in her trainee uniform, “Then I quit.” In a move that was then part dramatic guesture, part honest anger, Rainbow tossed her wingpony badge onto Spitfire’s desk. Spitfire stared at the badge for a few seconds, before darting out the office. There were a few ponies she had to talk to. She needed the full story. But if her instincts were right, and they usually were, then Lightning Dust would have to be talked to, and she needed to explain, and more importantly, apologise to Rainbow Dash before she left the Academy Grounds. Fortunately, Spitfire had always been good at going fast. ***** Spitfire watched from the corner of her eye as Rainbow Dash crept up beside her. She was going as fast as she could, flying for the finish of the Relay at the Equestria Games. Rainbow had come from practically dead last to second place. She really was a speed queen – Spitfire didn’t think she could have done that. For a second, Spitfire blinked, and instead of a rainbow-maned mare nearly two decades younger than her, it was a slightly older mare, with a pink coat and muted blue mane. Spitfire couldn’t help it. “Firefly,” she whispered. In her mind, she could see what was going to happen next. What always happened-She would race away, pouring on speed, accelerating impossibly fast, and winning. But Spitfire blinked, and it wasn’t Firefly she was racing against-it was Rainbow Dash. And Rainbow Dash, as much as Spitfire wanted her to be, wasn’t Firefly. She almost had the same impossible speed, but not the skill. Not yet. Spitfire crossed the line first. ****** Spitfire sat in her hotel room, staring at a pair of opened letters. One old and yellowed with age, the other fresh and new. Both were addressed to her. She could recite them by heart by this point, but she read them again anyway. “To Miss Spitfire,” she muttered, picking up the old letter first, “we are sorry to inform you that late last night, your sister Firefly passed away. We send our condolences, and invite you to a reading of your sister’s last testament and will. However, your sister did ask that we relay the following message: ‘Look out for my little Rainbow, Spits. She’ll throw you off your high horse one day if you’re not careful.’” Spitfire didn’t both reading the signature-it was only the standard form from the hospital. She turned to the newer letter. “Dear Miss Spitfire, we have reviewed the results of your test as you requested, and several outside opinions were consulted at your request. We can confirm that you are unable to have children. We apologise for the news. A copy of the results is enclosed for your own perusal.” Spitfire sat for a while. The news, along with the speculations in the papers about how the rest of the Wonderbolts were getting past their prime, eventually formulated a plan in Spitfire’s mind. The Captaincy of the Wonderbolts was a difficult position, and it wasn’t uncommon for it to pass from father to son, or daughter. And since Spitfire only had one, though admittedly exceptional, relative left, it would have to be her. Once she got back to Wonderbolts HQ, she would have a lot of paperwork to fill out, and then she’d have to see about giving a few tips to Rainbow Dash to make sure that Rainbow didn’t just pass the tryouts; she wanted her niece to set a new standard entirely. The way her mother had done.