Letters From a Little Princess Monster
Lessons in Flight - Part One
South of Canterlot, beyond the little town of Ponyville, and past the Everfree Forest, there is a wild place of jagged rocks and deep crevices cut by an untamed river. At one time, ponies had attempted to make it a tame place for vacationers to take photographs and enjoy the raw beauty of the place, but that attempt was doomed to failure. Winds untouched by wing or hoof flow unceasingly through the jagged stones and sharp thorns, making a low moan that only the bravest can endure for any length of time.
The single train stop that was built during that ill-fated venture still stands, a lonely sentinel of civilization alongside the iron rails and walking bridge that spans the yawning chasm. Nopony strolls its empty corridors and floors. There is only an outhouse for those few travelers who walk the road alongside the tracks, pausing briefly to absorb the awesome beauty of the place before hastening their tread across the bridge in search of a settled zone where a tamer nature could be appreciated appropriately.
On a jagged claw of rock, far above the gorge, a small fleck of orange moved ever upwards. Although winged, it did not fly to those dizzying heights, but made its way by scrambling and clawing for every bit of distance, one hoof after another. This was her place, where she would make her mark upon the world or die trying. More than once, her unsupported flank hung over a terrifying fall, but with chipped hooves and considerable perspiration, Scootaloo scrambled and climbed until she stood on the flat top of the jagged precipice.
From here, she could see forever. Canterlot glowed like a brilliant torch on the mountains to the north, while off to the side, the distant rainbow glitter of Cloudsdale dominated the sky.
“Today is the day,” breathed Scootaloo. “Mom. Dad. You’re going to be so proud of me.”
We’re so proud of you, Scootaloo. It’s just… your mother and myself have been so busy at the factory that we don’t have the time to spend with you like—
“Like I need,” she muttered, turning away from the rainbows and clouds of the hated factory. “Like your ‘special’ daughter needs.” The Daring Do saddlebag clunked inside when she peeled it off of her sweaty back and sat it down on the gravel.
“So special that I have to be tortured every night. So special that you had to order these!”
Two hated devices clattered down onto the barren rock, one for each wing. Steel buckles and nylon straps were frizzed with use and the wear of young teeth. Night after night she had faced the pain and itching of their nightly application and been unable to chew herself free.
Scootaloo, this is your aunt, Quick Fix. She’ll be watching over you for a few weeks. We’ve ordered some special devices to help with your wing development, and they can only be applied with unicorn magic, so you’ll need to remain in Ponyville for a while.
“Forever, you mean.” She bit down on the first hated wing brace, sinking her teeth into the soft nylon and chewing one last time.
Scoots, I know you don’t like the braces, but you need to quit chewing through them. This is your fifth pair.
“I’m never going to outgrow them, am I, Aunt Quick? I’m never going to fly. Never!” With a twist of her neck, the brace went flying off the ledge, spinning as it fell. She watched the descent of the hated object until it vanished into the jagged rocks below.
You have to be patient, Scoots. When I was your age, I thought I’d never fly either. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.
“Yes you did, Dad. That’s why you put me on the ground!” She picked up the second brace in her teeth and shook it, rejoicing in the feel of the straps and buckles slapping into her cheeks with little spikes of pain. “That’s why you gave me…”
It’s a scooter, Scootaloo, just like your name. If you use it every day, your wings will get stronger and stronger until you can fly, just like us.
“It didn’t work!” A twist of her head sent the other brace into the air, twisting and flipping as it fell through the erratic gusts of wind until it vanished into the rocks too. “I can do anything with that scooter except fly! Why can’t I fly! Even little foals can fly better than I can!”
It is my professional opinion that your niece's wings have developed enough for flight. They’re still undersized for her weight, but there may be reasons other than physical for her present problems. Have you consulted a psychologist?
“I’m not crazy! I just can’t fly!” The saddlebag was next to be picked up and mangled by youthful teeth and hooves. “Daring Do can fly, and she’s broken her wings more often than Rainbow Dash!” One small hoof pounded repeatedly on the smiling face of the character, smudging it with dirt and tears.
So, Scootaloo. As long as you are my patient, everything you tell me is confidential. It’s obvious something is bothering you—
“I can’t fly! That’s what is bothering me! Everypony else just treats it like some foal’s issue like a loose tooth! I have wings! Why can’t I fly? I’m a pegasus! I belong in the air!”
As she pitched the saddlebag over the edge, a small flutter of paper fell out in a flicker of white and rainbow hues. It twisted in the gusts of the gorge, rising and falling at the whim of the currents, until a stray breeze blew it right back into Scootaloo’s face. The rainbow of colors was the only thing she could see until she wiped her eyes and looked at the autographed picture of Rainbow Dash smiling back at her.
So, you're looking for somepony to take you under their wing, huh?
“I’ll make you proud, Rainbow. You’ll see. I can fly just as well as any other pegasus. Better, even. I’ll make them all proud.”
A small noise drifted up to Scootaloo’s precarious perch in a voice nearly snatched away by the wind. Over the sound of falling pebbles as another pony scrabbled up the thready path she had taken, she could barely hear it call, “No, Scoots!”
“Go, Scoots,” she whispered.
Taking a moment to brace her hooves in the loose gravel and spread her useless wings, Scootaloo swallowed a lump in her throat. There was no more time for waiting. It was time for action.
She jumped.