//------------------------------// // The Conspirators // Story: Winning, and Why // by 8686 //------------------------------// Carousel Boutique was the next logical stop on Dash’s route and she landed at the door, knocking briskly. “Come in!” Inside, Rarity was dealing with the heat the only way she knew how. By indulging in sheer, unadulterated decadence. Lying on an obscenely lavish chaise-lounge quilted in thick, red, velvet cushioning, and trimmed with gold inlaid with gemstones, Rarity reclined with perfect grace while her magic simultaneously wafted her with an enormous paper-fan of the kind normally held by royal ponyservants of yore, and repeatedly scooped spoonfuls of somehow-not-quite-melting ice-cream into her mouth. Not a bead of sweat sullied her pristine brow and only the occasional sip of a carefully placed tabletop glass of lemonade – complete with parasol and designer ice-cubes in the shape of cut diamonds – interrupted the contented little noises she made after every mouthful of dessert. “Rainbow Dash, come in darling,” said Rarity, as she floated the large fan over and began using it to waft lukewarm air into Dash’s face. It was, admittedly, cooler than the air outside. Dash braced herself. “Hey, Rarity. I need a favour.” Of all of her friends, trying to convince Rarity was always going to be the toughest sell. “Why of course dear. What is it you need? A new, streamlined flight-suit? Perhaps some stylish evening-wear?” “I need you to run in a seven-legged race with Twilight against me and Fluttershy, and Applejack and Pinkie Pie over at Sweet Apple Acres this evening.” The fan ceased its incessant wafting. From the chaise-lounge, Rarity raised her head enough to look at Rainbow Dash. The scrunchy-nose, twitchy ears and suddenly pallid expression were all clear indicators of her disinclination to engage in such an... ‘uncouth’ activity. “Augh, well, um, I need to make sure, ah, that is, I’m quite certain I’m washing my mane...” Dash lowered her head and drew a deep breath. “Please?” The scrunchy nose vanished and the expression turned worried, her eyes anxious. “Darling? Is something the matter?” “No. It’s just... hey, you’re a winner too, right?” Dash looked up again. “You’ve won like... fashion-y competition-y things before...” Rarity chuckled lightly. “Rainbow Dash, fashion’s not a competition, it's a way of life. It doesn't matter which designer you're wearing: when you look fabulous, everypony wins!” “Uh huh.” Rainbow Dash raised a skeptical eyebrow. Then she unfurled her wings and started flapping, heading for the staircase. “Rainbow Dash? Where are you going?” “Your room!” she called back, halfway up the stairs already. Rarity coughed and spluttered on her most recent sip of lemonade. “What? Without asking? Without permission? Rainbow Dash! Where are your manners!?” she cried. But though she sat up enough to yell, she made no further effort to remove herself from her comfortable seat as the fan once more began lazily wafting her. A moment later, Dash returned with a trophy in her hooves – a medium-sized gold cup set on a wooden base. The engraving on the plaque read, Manehatten Fashion Week. Winner: “Hotel Chic,” by Rarity. “Not a competition, huh?” “Ah, aeungh, I, well...” she stammered, a shade of pink highlighting her cheeks. She recovered quickly and another spoonful of ice-cream slipped its way daintily between her lips. “There’s nothing wrong with having your work objectively appreciated.” “Rarity? When you won this... it made you feel special, right?” Rarity thought for a moment, her hoof finding her chin. “I suppose that’s a succinct enough way to sum it up. It was nice to see that my hard work – and that of all my friends, of course – had been so highly regarded.” “That’s not the only thing you’ve won though. Like, you’ve ‘won’ important contracts and stuff before, right?” Did they count? They probably counted. “When Sapphire Shores comes to you and says she wants you to design her next batch of whatchamathingies, you still get that special feeling?” It really was a lot like winning. Coming first. Being the best. Rarity nodded reticently. “Yes, I suppose. But why are you asking, darling? Surely you know all this better than most. And why do you suddenly want us all to run in a silly seven-legged...?” Before she could finish the sentence, Rarity's expression transformed from confused to surprised in almost the blink of an eye. “Oh.” She locked Rainbow Dash's gaze. “Rainbow Dash, I'm so sorry. Of course it's not silly. I will be there with bells on, so to speak!” she said with a sudden, wide smile. Rainbow Dash found herself a little taken aback. “Huh? Just like that? Aren't you going to complain about the dust, the dirt, the sweat, the whole... uncivilised-ness?” Rarity made an eugh face, but hid it again quickly. “Yes, well, normally it wouldn't be my ideal choice of evening. But it wouldn't be the first time I've sacrificed a small amount of dignity in the name of a good cause. And this...” Rarity finally rose to her hooves from the chaise-lounge, standing next to Rainbow Dash with a smile. She placed a forehoof on hers and looked deep into her eyes– “Rarity, what are you doing?” “Why, I'm standing next to you with a smile, placing my forehoof on yours and looking deep into your eyes, darling.” “Why?” Rarity's smile only grew. “Because, Rainbow Dash, I believe this may well be the kindest, most generous thing you’ve ever done.” “Uh, it... is?” “Why yes.” Rarity fluttered her eyelids. “Because you do know how wonderful that feeling is. And now you're going to such extraordinary lengths... because you want somepony you care deeply about to share that feeling too. It really is... so...” – a small tear came to her eye– “...sweet.” She finished with a high-pitched eep, and wiped the moisture away with a levitated handkerchief. “Ooo...kaaaay,” said Rainbow Dash, carefully withdrawing her hoof from beneath Rarity's. “But, when you tell everypony else how great I am, could you maybe replace the word ‘sweet’ with ‘awesome?’” “Of course. Never fear, I will do my part to help you help Fluttershy, no matter how dusty or... uncivil... it may get.” “How’d... you know it was for Fluttershy?” Rarity smiled a knowing smile. “The process of elimination followed by an educated guess, dear.” “Oh.” And that was the end of the conversation. Rarity was on board, and on the same page too. They bid each other goodbye and Rainbow Dash left the Boutique, taking easily to the air. One more friend to go. * * * It was different this time. Every time Rainbow Dash had been into Viper’s office, events had followed a similar pattern. He’d yell, she’d yell; the topic would progress from her behaviour, to her punishment, to what was expected of her from now on. Then she’d be kicked out the door back to class. Before that happened though, she’d always give a good account of herself, and they’d already exchanged angry words for five minutes. But now, all of a sudden, Viper had stopped mid-tirade, let out a long, angry sigh, and turned to face the large, semicircular window overlooking the campus grounds with an odd scowl. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end in a way they never had before. If Viper had been angry on those previous visits, now he seemed furious, smouldering with barely contained rage. “I have tried so hard with you, Rainbow Dash,” he growled. “But I don’t know what to do anymore.” He turned towards her, his face a picture of thunder. “As a teacher, there is nothing that infuriates me more than seeing a talent go to waste. But you even seem determined to take that to new heights! Your juvenile pranks were bad enough, though at least meant in jest. Your continuing disregard for our rules was much less acceptable. And now, sleeping through classes? Displaying outright contempt for our lessons and, by extension, your fellow students!” Viper snorted so forcefully that she felt the breeze where she stood. “I have told you too many times to count, Rainbow Dash: you are one of the most naturally gifted young fliers I have ever seen. And yet all you seem to want to do with that ability is squander it. Of all the students this year, you have the potential to graduate with one of the highest grades we have ever awarded, and yet you... refuse! You are superbly capable, and yet have recorded scores against only four of the required twenty disciplines! And one of those, I am convinced only because you believed we were not looking! Why?” “Ugh. Because your ‘lessons’ are super-lame! I could pass all your stupid tests in my sleep!” yelled Rainbow Dash, meeting his stare. Viper sighed another angry sigh. “Yes. You seem determined to sleep your way to graduation, don’t you? And if it were only you that was affected by your behaviour, I would be far less irascible. Our lessons may be less challenging than someone of your ability would like, but there are other students at this school, Rainbow Dash! Ones who need more help than you. And when your pranks and hi-jinks, and the snoring from your mid-lesson naps, interferes with their ability to learn and do well... that, I find unacceptable.” He glowered at her again, his gaze piercing, as though it were a dagger of ice. She glared back, outwardly undaunted but inwardly... just a little guilty. She’d never meant others to suffer. Viper was getting to her again. He always managed it, somehow. “And what vexes me more than anything else... is that I don’t understand it! If you were lazy and selfish, content only to be a disruptive influence, that I could at least fathom. But you’re neither of those! I have seen you push yourself to astonishing levels and accomplish otherwise impossible feats while you have been here. And you have an altruistic streak that is wider than you’d ever care to admit. Look at what you’ve done for Fluttershy, for instance. Or did you think I hadn’t noticed?” That struck a chord and a pang of annoyance fired. “Hey! You leave Fluttershy out of this. She’s got nothing to do with it!” “No, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy is very relevant! Do you know how much her grades have improved? She used to struggle in every area. Now she is on course to graduate with a score in the sixties! That’s down to you! Because you give her something we cannot teach! Confidence! You could be a role-model to her and so many others. You could be helping them, but instead of working with us, by demonstrating your abilities and encouraging your classmates, you choose to sleep through lessons, and your infantile pranks only serve to distract and hinder their progress. Well I have had enough, Rainbow Dash! I will not see you waste your skills here, and I will not see other pupils suffer because of your behaviour. If you can’t follow the rules and participate with your fellow students, then there is no place for you at this school!” Oh. Snap. Dash looked up, momentarily shocked from her anger. Had he just said...? An instant later her frown returned, her teeth clenched and she spun on her hooves, marching for the door. She yanked it open roughly, stepped into the corridor, and slammed it shut behind her. The click the latch made should have sounded familiar. She’d heard it shut a dozen times before. But this time, somehow, it sounded different. Thicker. Denser. More final. And as she stood in the corridor of the staff building, opposite the receptionist’s desk, she knew... just instinctively knew... that she’d never be walking through that door again. She wasn’t welcome here any more. Fluttershy had been in the camp dormitory when it arrived. It was the most wonderful news ever. In fact, it was her best day ever. She was so happy. She had to tell somepony. Anypony. Well... actually, there was only one other pony in the school that she could even consider telling. But she just had to get it out, before she burst. And then, as though by magic, Rainbow Dash appeared! Trotting through the nearby dormitory door, past her, and straight to the far side of the long, thirty-bunk room. She was holding her head low, glaring at the floor, never even acknowledging her as the only other pony there. “Oh, Rainbow Dash! You’re here! Oh, I just have to tell somepony! I just got a letter from my parents and... it’s the most wonderful thing!” Rainbow Dash ignored her. She’d dragged her saddlebag out from beneath her set of bunk-beds with her teeth, hurled it onto the lower bed, whipped the flap open, and was now shoving her personal belongings into it. Hard. “Rainbow... Dash?” Fluttershy cautiously dared to approach her, tucking her letter beneath her wing. Still she was ignored. The sound of things being stuffed forcefully into a canvas bag continued without respite. “Is... something wrong?” “I’m leaving,” said Dash, brusquely. Fluttershy let out a small gasp. “L-leaving? Why? What’s happened?” “Viper just kicked me out. So, I’m outta here.” “Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean you to leave. He’s never expelled anypony before.” “Yeah, well, he made it pretty clear he didn’t want me around. So, fine, I’m gone! And I’m never coming back here as long as I live!” “But... we’re so close to graduation.” Rainbow Dash spun with a rapid fury. “Hey! I don’t need to graduate from this two-bit place, okay? There are other flight schools out there! The Arrows, the Angels, the Speedsters! Advanced places that would be thrilled to train an awesome flier like me!” Fluttershy winced and flinched a little, taking a step backwards. Dash snorted and turned back to the bed, stuffing her final few trinkets haphazardly into the bag– “I’ll miss you.” Everything stopped. Rainbow Dash turned back to look at Fluttershy. The poor, timid pony in front of her was utterly crestfallen, and seeing her thus just leeched the fury all away until there was none left. “Hey, c’mon, it’s not like you got kicked out. And, from what I hear, you’re gonna get an okay final grade. Besides, I thought you said you had some good news. So? What is it?” Dash even managed a smile. Fluttershy looked downcast at the floor. One of the most exciting days of her life was suddenly one of the saddest. “I’m leaving too. After graduation.” “Uh... everypony leaves after graduation. That’s kind of the point, Fluttershy.” The joke was horribly misplaced, meeting only a moment of awkward silence. “I mean, I’m leaving Cloudsdale.” “You... are? Why?” Fluttershy removed the letter from beneath her wing. She looked at it a moment before offering it to Rainbow Dash, who began to read. “Wow. Your parents are just giving you a house? What are they, rich?” “Um... not really... well... kind of. It actually used to belong to my great great aunt, but nopony’s lived there in a long time. And... when I told them I wanted to live on the ground... well... it makes sense I suppose.” “The ground? Ugh. Seriously? And, ‘Ponyville?’ I’ve never even heard of this place.” “Oh, it’s only a small, peaceful village, and the cottage is just on the outskirts. I can restore it and live there quietly and have lots and lots of animals to look after. It’s going to be wonderful. It’s everything I could want. Well, almost.” Rainbow Dash looked up from the letter and raised an eyebrow. Fluttershy felt her cheeks flush. “Well, I just thought it would be nice to have a visitor every once in a while.” Dash sighed, handing the letter back. “Sorry, Fluttershy. I mean, good luck and all, but... I gotta stay in Cloudsdale and really work on getting myself into the Wonderbolts. Especially after this.” Fluttershy dipped her head again. “I know.” A moment of silence passed, threatening to stretch into awkwardness. “Look, uh, I should go,” said Dash as she flipped-and-tossed her saddlebags onto her back, securing the strap with her teeth. She’d calmed completely though, and her movements were no longer abrupt and coloured with rage. With her baggage firmly in place she sauntered to the door, leaving Fluttershy stood next to her old bunk. This was where they parted, it seemed. She was leaving the school and never coming back, and in two weeks, Fluttershy would be leaving Cloudsdale for good. They’d probably never see each other again. As she reached the door to the dorm, a quiet voice from behind caught up to her. “Thank you,” it said. It didn’t need to say anything else. Dash turned, flashing her cavalier smile one final time. “So long, Fluttershy.” It might have sounded like a, ‘see you around.’ But they both knew it was goodbye. The cottage was dilapidated. Certainly in a far poorer state of repair than she’d expected. Most of the windows were broken with the shutters hanging off. Plantlife sprawled and spread into cracks in the wall and other places it had no business being. The only mercy was that the thatched, leafed roof at least appeared intact. She pushed and pressed on the door, struggling to budge it. It was ill-fitted into the door-frame which seemed to have cracked and distorted, and at least one of the hinges felt like it had seized. After a few moments of effort she finally shoved it open. Inside, ivy and vineweed had invaded the floor and climbed many of the walls. The paint was peeling, the floorboards were warped, most of the furniture that was still recogniseable was damaged or unusable, and the musty scent of damp pervaded the ruined house. At her entrance, a host of small animals – chipmunks, birds, squirrels and the like – scattered, heading for the open window at the rear, startled at the loud bang of the door. One of the animals – a white rabbit – began bounding away with his cohorts, but tripped on a vine, tumbling and landing awkwardly on a hindleg, giving a small, pained cry. “Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry!” gasped Fluttershy as she hurried to help. “You poor angel, are you okay?” The rabbit looked up, no longer attempting to flee, and allowed Fluttershy to scoop it into her forelegs. Fluttershy gave it a soft hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” She sat there cradling the rabbit, and looked around the cottage, a colossal list of things that needed doing to make it livable forming in her mind. She had a lot of work ahead of her, but she knew it would be worth it. This was her home now. It was everything she could ever want. Almost. * * * The castle was Rainbow Dash’s final stop. The glittering spires and crystal walls reflected the afternoon sun’s rays so intensely that it was almost difficult to look at. But when the light hit a faceted surface just so, it refracted into a stunning rainbow of colour. The castle might have seemed out of place just a few short months ago, but it really was the kind of place that grew on you the more you were around it. Rainbow Dash might not appreciate it in the same way that Rarity did, but even she had to admit that it was a pretty cool place to live. Making her entrance through yet another open window – the summer heat really was her friend in this respect – Rainbow Dash found herself in one of the palace’s long, crystal hallways, just outside the room that Twilight had designated the castle library. The first thing that she registered was the smell of smoke coming from the library doors. The second thing she noticed was the smoke pouring out of the crack between the library doors. She gawped. “Twilight?!” The doors flew open with a crash and a beleaguered Twilight sprinted out, coughing. Her mane was singed, and her coat bore patches of soot-stained grey, along with a superficial scratch or two. Drawing to a stop with a skid just beyond the doors, she took note of Rainbow Dash stood there with a look of utmost shock. “Hi, Rainbow,” she said with somewhat unwarranted calm. “Would you excuse me just a moment?” Then she turned her head in the direction of the lengthy corridor. “Spike!” “I’m on it!” replied a familiar, scaly voice, and a moment later Spike – dressed in bright yellow wellington boots and a similarly coloured fireman’s helmet – sprinted forth and straight through the doors. Rainbow Dash only caught a brief glimpse of the scarlet fire-extinguisher he carried, but she made out the most important words written in large white letters. FOR USE ON MAGICAL FIRES. A moment later there was a loud, deep hissing sound from within the library as the extinguisher was deployed. Several seconds passed while Twilight looked awkwardly at Rainbow Dash. “Uh... he’ll just be a minute.” CRASH. HISS. HIISSSSSS! “So, how are you, Rainbow?” “Gah, Twilight!” “Um... excuse me.” Twilight took off sprinting through the doors. HISS. CRASH. FWOOMPH. BK-AWK! The noise died and a minute later, Twilight and Spike re-emerged from the library wearing weary but triumphant grins and wiping sweat from their brows. Twilight turned back to Dash. “Sorry about that. So, what can I do for you, Rainbow Dash?” Rainbow Dash could only look on in bewilderment. In fact, bewilderment and confusion were pretty much her go-to emotions this afternoon. “Uh... what just happened?” “Oh, that? Well, the castle doesn’t have a basement. At least, not one that I’ve found yet. So I thought I’d set aside a corner of the library for science.” “And now the library has a whole new corner that wasn’t there before,” said Spike irritably, discarding the spent extinguisher. “That’s enough, Spike. If every experiment worked exactly as planned, we wouldn’t need to do them at all,” admonished Twilight. She turned back to Rainbow Dash with an expectant smile. Ooo...kay? Dash roughly shook her head. First Pinkie and now Twilight. The heat was really doing weird things to some of her friends. Never mind. To business. She had this routine down pretty well by now. “Alright Twilight. Where's yours?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “My... what?” “Your trophy cabinet. Or cupboard or whatever. You know, where you keep all your medals from stuff you’ve won?” The eyebrow fell and Twilight gave a light chuckle. “Oh, I don’t have anything like that.” What? “What? You don’t have any trophies?! But you’re a super-braniac! You’ve gotta have won like, magic contests, or science competitions, or book-reading marathons – if they exist – or something!” “Well, I guess most of my ‘victories’ haven’t come from competitions, per se. More, ‘climactic battles with the fate of Equestria hanging in the balance.’ I don’t think they usually give trophies for those–” “Just gigantic stained-glass-windows,” muttered Spike under his breath. “I did win first place at the Canterlot Science Pageant when I was a filly at school. Is that the sort of thing you meant?” Dash rolled her eyes. That would have to do. Pretty lame, but still a win. “Okay, right. And when you won it, you felt special, didn’t you?” Twilight’s muzzle found the sky. “I most certainly did not. At no point did I think that winning a science competition should set me apart as more important than any other pony.” Uh... okay... this really wasn’t going to plan. “Right... but it was a contest. You were trying to win it, right?” “Well, no, actually,” said Twilight. “I was much more interested in the learning, and the experience behind it. Winning was simply a by-product of my thoroughness and attention to detail. I entered it to further the cause of science. After all,” she said, “How to build a potato-battery powered alarm-clock is something ponies need to know.” “So, you don’t even care that you won?!” “Rainbow Dash... you look a little pale. Is everything okay?” “No!” she cried, the word bursting forth before she’d even had a chance to catch it. She sat and slumped. Twilight put on a worried look. She walked close to Rainbow Dash and put a foreleg gently on her shoulder for a moment. Dash sighed. “Every week, Fluttershy and I play a game over at her place. Every week it’s the same game, and every week I win. And it’s not fair. Why doesn’t she get to win sometimes?” “Well, why don’t you just play a different game?” “No... you don’t get it. Fluttershy’s never won any games. She’s never won anything. I mean actually, literally anything.” “What are you talking about? She won a silver medal with you at the Equestria Games! That was an amazing achievement!” Rainbow sighed again. “Yeah, I know. And believe me, that was awesome, and it’s not like I’m not super-proud of it. But... it wasn’t a win. It’s not something she can point at and say, ‘right then, I was the best.’ “And then today, she actually says she doesn’t know why winning’s so important to ponies. Like, why should we bother trying to win? And the only explanation that anypony’s been able to come up with so far is because it gives you a kind of special feeling inside.” “Well that’s certainly... vague,” said Twilight with a little frown, apparently affronted that ‘vagueness’ should exist at all. “I know, right? I can’t do any better though.” Twilight brightened. “Oh, well I can help with that.” Dash looked up. “What?” Twilight turned her head to address her dragon assistant. “Spike, I need my copy of Triumphs and Tragedies.” Spike looked over at the still-shut library doors, from which thin tendrils of probably-not-poisonous smoke continued to emanate, and then back with a nonplussed expression. He drew a deep, deep breath and dashed into the library. “Uh... is he gonna be okay?” asked Dash, noting the fumes that had by now faded from billowing and jet black to wisps of pale grey. “Oh, he’s just being melodramatic,” smiled Twilight. A moment later Spike, grasping a large hardback and coughing theatrically, re-emerged from the library. He held up the cover to reveal the full title: Triumphs and Tragedies – a Treatise on the Psychological Aspects of Victory and Defeat. Twilight took the book in her aura and opened it, flipping expertly through the pages. “Ah, here we go. ‘Attaining victory confers many benefits, both tangible and intangible, on the victor.’” She finished the quote and began to skim and summarise. “Let’s see. Victory often leads to measurable boosts in self-confidence and self-worth. It can earn one respect and perhaps fame, if briefly. Winning can also improve subsequent performance as a byproduct, and it can serve as inspiration for others to achieve. Plus there are often literal rewards that go with winning. Trophies, medals or other symbols of achievement are often given, or perhaps even monetary prizes may be offered, depending on the competition. All of these can be seen as incentives to achieve victory.” She closed the book and used her aura to offer it to Rainbow Dash with a smile. “There’s more in there if you’re interested in the psychology behind it.” Dash stuck out her tongue and gently pushed the book away. Yeah, yeah, that all made sense. But there was something else. Something that she was becoming more and more convinced that you just couldn’t define in words. Heck of a job she’d have convincing Twilight of that though. Twilight thought that everything could be researched, calculated, explained. “Twilight... when you won first place in that faire–” “Pageant.” “– Pageant, what actually happened?” Twilight’s brow creased as memory sparked to life. “Well, myself and the other foals were all gathered in the castle entrance hall. The judges took a slip of paper up the stairs and gave it to Princess Celestia. She opened it, and said, ‘Twilight Sparkle.’” “Yeah. And?” “She... she called me to come up the stairs to her. I stood right next to her. She gave me the prize and told me, ‘Congratulations.’ She said... she said that I’d worked hard. That I’d earned it. That I deserved it.” “And how’d you feel?” asked Dash. “I... was thrilled. I mean, right then, it was the most...” Twilight blinked and looked up, a trace of moisture in her eyes. “Oh.” Dash nodded. “See? Whatever that is; whatever you want to call it, I just... I want Fluttershy to have it too, y’know?” Twilight nodded quietly. She let out a breath. “Okay. So, we’re going to need a plan.” Dash blinked. “Oh, nonononono. Heh. We already have a plan. I just need your help is all.” “Oh, okay,” said Twilight, not quite able to hide her disappointment. “What’s the plan?” “It’s a seven-legged race over at Sweet Apple Acres. You and Rarity versus me and Fluttershy versus AJ and Pinkie Pie.” “Huh. I’d have gone with a Staring contest...” said Twilight, a little absently. Then her brow furrowed once again. “Who came up with that?” “Me. And Applejack,” said Dash. Then, after a reflective beat, “Mostly Applejack,” she admitted. “Why?” “Rainbow, a team in a seven-legged race is only as fast as its slowest runner. I might not be able to beat you in a race, but what if I can beat Fluttershy? What if Rarity can too? What if we win?” “Well... don’t!” “Rainbow Dash,” said Twilight kindly, “If you want Fluttershy to have that feeling you’re talking about; if you want her to win because she’s the best, then she has to win for real. We can’t just fix the race to let her win. That’s not fair on her.” “I do want her to win for real,” protested Dash. Twilight’s expression softened and she sat, “Rainbow? Do me a favour and just think for a second. Why are you doing this? Is it because Fluttershy wants to win... or is it because you want her to win?” Dash looked back at Twilight. Eventually she sat too. “I just... want her to know what it’s like. I don’t want her to miss out on having something that everypony else seems to have. And I want her to feel like a winner because otherwise... she might think she’s not special, or something.” Twilight nodded subtly, wrangling some sort of decision from her brain. At length she took a breath and let it out. “Okay then. We can make this work... somehow. But you’re still going to have to win fairly. And since we’re all going to be in the race, we’re going to need a neutral adjudicator to make sure things stay fair,” she said, half-turning to her dragon assistant. Dash also turned to the final member of their small group. “Whaddya say, Spike? Wanna help us out?” Spike smiled and shrugged. “Sure. Not like I have anything better to do right now anyway.” He gave a little kick to the empty fire-extinguisher, still on the floor. Dash was about to turn back to Twilight when she caught herself. “Hey, uh, Spike? You wanna weigh in on the whole, ‘what it means to win’ thing?” “Me? Undefeated Ponyville Top Trumps Champion, Hoofball edition,” said Spike with a smug smile. “Oh yeah, and uh, special feeling yadda yadda yadda, totally get it. On with the show, already.” “Awesome. Okay, I’ll see you both at Sweet Apple Acres. Now all I gotta do is go get...” She trailed off as a stray thought attacked. She looked back at Twilight. “Prize?” Twilight looked back, confused. “You said Princess Celestia gave you a prize. But you don’t have it anymore?” asked Dash. Then she buried her forehoof in her face and answered her own question. “It was a book token, wasn’t it?” For Twilight, shock didn’t cover it. “How did you kn–?!” “Please Twilight, a school competition? It’s always a book token. Lemme guess, five bits from the Amarezon bookstore, right?” “It was ten bits, actually,” said Twilight haughtily. “And you don’t have it anymore because you spent it, didn’t you? Ugh, you know, you’re probably the only pony in Equestria to ever win a book token and actually use it to buy a book! What was it, huh?” asked Dash with a grin. “Well, it was the first time I’d ever won anything. I guess I wanted to study the psychological effects of winning, so I used it to buy...” Twilight looked down at Triumphs and Tragedies. “What. That book?” Twilight nodded, but her eyes seemed glued to the cover now, a wistful expression a fixture of her features. Finally, she looked up. “We’ll be there, Rainbow Dash. We’ll make it work somehow. For Fluttershy.” * * * The year she spent at the Junior Speedsters, Dash would count as among the happiest times she’d had, growing up. And as she rapidly approached the end of the semester she couldn’t help but look back at just how awesome it had all been. She’d made a lifelong friend in her room-mate and flight partner, Gilda; the instructors expected more but were actually pretty easy-going; and the lessons were more free-form, allowing her to do things her own way. Where Cloudsdale Curriculum had given her Tasks to carry out and Requirements to fulfill, the Junior Speedsters instead gave her Objectives to accomplish and Achievements to strive for. They encouraged her to perform, rather than beat her over the head with a stick, and perform she did! The exercises were challenging, but she achieved and excelled in every one of them, breaking more than one record along the way. And everything about it was so much more relaxed. It was, put simply, her kind of place. The only problem was it was coming to an end. Gilda was heading back to her home after graduation, and so for Dash, whatever came next – and she didn’t know what that was for sure – she was going to have to start it by herself. On her own. She... wasn’t really looking forward to it. But she wasn’t thinking about it yet. Now, still with a week to graduation, she was being called into Dex’s office. She suspected she was in for a bit of a dressing down over what had happened the previous night, but she wasn’t worried. Being called to Dex’s office was a world away from going into the Viper’s nest. Dexter Stable – though nopony ever referred to him as anything other than Dex – wasn’t the head of the camp, but for all practical purposes might as well have been. His official title was ‘Admissions Tutor,’ but that didn’t even scratch the surface. In his time at the Speedsters, he’d seemingly acquired every other student-facing role going: counsellor, careers advisor, activity-planner, confidant, student liaison to the rest of the staff, even a little instruction. He was basically a glue that held the school together, and if it didn’t involve specialist training, back office record keeping, or being moody and distant from the students like the actual headmaster, then Dex did it. Because he loved it. Because he understood that the students at the camp didn’t want to be treated like foals anymore. He’d relax with them and have an adult conversation about whatever was on their minds, and it didn’t matter how stupid it sounded. He walked a narrow path between professionalism and friendliness, but he did it very well, and it was common consensus among the camp – staff and students – that if you had a problem, Dex could fix it. And now here she was outside Dex’s office, a couple of butterflies maybe, but nothing else. Dex was cool. This’d be fine. She knocked. “Come in!” replied a cheery, upbeat voice. Rainbow pushed the door open and sauntered into the office with a smile. If Viper’s office was stark and sterile, this place was alive with colour and character. Along one wall hung probably two dozen framed portrait photos of past students, across which had been scrawled signatures and messages of goodbye made out to him. In a corner, propped on a stand, was a trombone which he still insisted he was learning to play – though he’d been learning for an age it seemed and never gotten past the basics. His desk was festooned with colourful paperweights, office-toys, and pictures of a wife and two foals. Every other square inch of its surface though was covered with a mishmash of paperwork which never seemed to increase or decrease – which was hardly surprising since he rarely spent much time at it. He was behind it at the moment, though. A chestnut pegasus with a black mane and brown eyes, and with a cutie mark represented by three gold, five-pointed stars arranged in a triangle. He was a little thicker-set than most stallions, but presented the appearance of being burly rather than muscular. “Rainbow Dash, come in! Have a seat,” he said with a grin, motioning towards the seat in front of his desk. Except where most offices would have gone for a chair or a floor-cushion, Dex instead went with a large blue cloth bean-bag. Dash ambled over and sat, relaxing into the ridiculously comfortable furniture. “You know why you’re here?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Rainbow’s back straightened and she sat upright – which wasn’t easy, given the beanbag was trying its best to absorb her. “Look, I can explain. I have almost no idea where those fireworks came from! And... they weren’t really all supposed to go off at once.” Dex’s other eyebrow raised a little. He looked down at the desk in front of him – though his chances of finding anything remotely useful in the huge mess of paperwork must have been zilch – and then looked back up. He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I suppose we could do that first,” he said. He cleared his throat and tried to make himself sound sternly professional. He was awful at it. “Ahem. So, Rainbow Dash. The illicit, unauthorised fireworks display-slash-aerobatics demonstration that you and Gilda pulled over the campus last night was...?” “Uh... a total accident?” “A loud, colourful, extremely well choreographed accident that happened to showcase just about every advanced aerial maneuver with textbook precision?” “Uh... yes?” Dex couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping. Suddenly, sternly professional wasn’t on the menu anymore. “The fireworks woke the headmaster up, you know? And when he realised you’d enticed almost the entire student body out past curfew, he really wasn’t happy. Me? I think he’s just bitter he didn’t get an invite. He’s insisted I take you to task, but unfortunately for him, I loved it, and so did every single student I've spoken to today.” Dex grinned. “So, if you’re asked, you and I had a long, grueling talk about it, you saw the error of your ways and promised never to do it again, and I gave you some sort of hideous paperwork to fill out as punishment. Just... no more illegal aerial displays before graduation. Deal?” Dash grinned back. “Deal.” Dex was awesome. She relaxed, falling back once more into the beanbag as Dex spoke again. “Now that that’s out of the way we can get back to business. You're actually here because I wanted to see you in my role as careers advisor. I make a point of grabbing all the students in here just before graduation, to try and get them on the right track for after they leave, ask them if they know what they want to do and how to get there and so on. Though for you... I imagine that’s not much of an issue...?” He paused, looking expectantly at her, but she was grinning smugly now and waiting for him to commit to the question before she pounced. “So, Rainbow Dash... do you know what you want to do after you le–?” “Wonderbolt,” she said confidently, grinning like a cat with a bowl full of cream. Dex chuckled. “Yes, I thought so. It’s not exactly a secret, is it?” Dex looked down at the desk, shuffled some papers around and, astonishingly, seemed to find one that he was looking for. He sighed and looked back up at Rainbow Dash, meeting her gaze. There was still a smile there, though it was reduced in size somewhat. “Rainbow Dash, one of the more difficult parts of this job for me comes when I have to encourage students to be... realistic about their expectations. Often times it feels like I’m disappointing them. Sometimes I get to surprise them. But with you... it really is a double-edged sword.” His gaze turned to the paper. “It starts with bad news. Because if you believed you were going to apply straight from here into the Wonderbolt Academy, and get on the fast-track to a blue flight-suit... well, it isn’t going to happen. The Wonderbolts won’t take you.” Dash’s jaw dropped, her face horrified. “What? Why not?! I’m the best–!” “Whoa, whoa,” said Dex, holding his forehooves up defensively. “Calm down and hear me out, because there’s good news too.” He waited for her jaw to slowly climb back off the floor before continuing. “Firstly – and I know they don’t exactly put this on the brochure, but trust me, it’s true – you’re still at least a year too young for their Academy. The Wonderbolts don’t accept any applicants fresh out of school, and there are a couple of reasons for that. “You have to understand that the Wonderbolts want three basic things, Rainbow. Capability, Responsibility, and Reliability. They’re the best flight team in the world, and the emphasis there is on ‘team.’ They don’t have the time to waste training somepony it then turns out they can’t work with. They need to know that every candidate they accept is a team player, who can be counted on no matter what. Now, I’m lucky because I know you and I know that’s you to a tee. But even though I flatter myself that I wield some influence in these circles, they won’t just take my word for it. They need to see proof of it firsthoof. And when they’re trying to find it in somepony, there are a few things they look for that, again, they don’t exactly tell you about. “First off they’ll look at your academic record here.” Dex smiled a conspiratorial smile. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but when you graduate next Monday, you’re going to be getting the highest grade this school can award. Only four other students in history have achieved it, so try and look surprised.” He winked. “Two of those students did go on to become Wonderbolts. The other two found their calling elsewhere as it happens. So, yes, they’ll be able to see you’re technically capable from the qualification you get here... but what they really want to see is you showing your stuff out there. With style and flair, making a name for yourself. Entering races, tournaments and competitions – remember the Best Young Fliers contest we took you all on that field trip to see? That’s a perfect example. You need to let them see you do your stuff, but don’t forget those other qualities. Being responsible and dependable are just as important, but you can’t really demonstrate those effectively in a structured environment like a school, which is why they don’t accept applicants straight out of education. They need to see them in the real world first.” Dex propped his elbows on the desk and tented his hooves, meeting her gaze. “Rainbow Dash, you have a huge talent and the right attitude. Since you’ve been here you’ve performed flawlessly, and broken five or six of the camp records along the way. Heh, actually, I owe somepony a beer, thanks to that...” “A what? Beer?” “Hmm? It’s a drink. Like cider, except made with hops and wheat instead of fermented apples.” Dash made a surprised, disgusted face. “Fermented apples? You mean like... rotting? Eugh! Who’d wanna drink rotten apples?” “Well, it’s all an acquired taste I suppose. The point is: you are good enough to be a Wonderbolt, Rainbow, and I truly believe one day, if you want it, you’ll get there. But before they’ll take you, you need a proven track record that you can be everything they want, and as I say, an excellent flying ability is important, but only one third of the equation. So in the meantime you’ll need a good job that can inspire confidence, allow you to continue to hone your skill, but still give you the potential to let you catch their eye.” “All right, Dex, now we’re talking!” said Dash, encouraged. “Have you thought about weather-work?” Dash’s face fell completely flat. After a moment she raised a forehoof to her ear, rubbing it hard. “Uh, Dex? I think you’re pronouncing it wrong. It’s supposed to sound like this: ‘Dare... Dev-il.’” Dex laughed. “Yes, as intriguing and no-doubt-profitable a career choice as ‘Daredevil’ is, it’s not exactly ‘responsible’, or ‘dependable,’ is it?” “But come on, how is pushing clouds around all day going to impress the Wonderbolts?!” complained Dash. Dex leaned back in his chair with a smile. “Rainbow Dash, I’ve been doing this for a good while now, and I need you to trust me a little bit. Weather work might sound menial, but if you think about it for a moment, it actually has a lot going for it for someone like you. For a start, it’s almost entirely sky-time. Think about how many other careers you actually get that with, and then consider that every day you’re working you’ll be practicing as well, keeping your skills sharp. Plus, managing the weather for an entire population is a fantastic way to demonstrate responsibility and inspire trust. You’re also demonstrating effective teamwork with the other weather-ponies and, if you can keep on top of it, it will give you enough free time to pursue contests or competitions as you like. And lastly... and again, I’ll have to ask you to trust me on this, but it’s true...” he met her gaze more seriously. “It’s not quite as easy as it looks, managing the weather for a whole settlement. It takes a fair bit of skill. And when a town’s weather goes exactly to schedule, every time, every day, week in week out? Believe me, that’s the sort of thing that gets noticed up in Cloudsdale. You remember how I said there are things they look for that they don’t exactly tell you about? Weather-work demonstrates almost all of them to a tee. Don’t believe me? Ask me what those two students who went on to become Wonderbolts did for the first year after they left here,” he said with a grin. “Winning a race or a contest can show them you can be a great flier. But this sort of thing – doing a job excellently, reliably and with discipline – that’s what shows them you can be a part of their team.” Dash breathed out a long breath. A weather-pony? Not what she was expecting to be sure. But... it did make sense... sort of. And it wouldn’t be for long. Just until she built up enough cred that they’d take her in. “Okay,” she said under her breath. “Of course, if you’re not convinced, I’m sure I have a ‘Dare-Devil’ application form around here somewhere,” joked Dex, shuffling some random papers on his desk as though searching. Then he looked up. “But I do genuinely think this is the best way forward for you.” He pushed the sheet of paper he had retrieved earlier across the desk towards Rainbow Dash. She had to struggle up back to her hooves from the bean-bag to read it. It just looked like a list of half a dozen place-names. “What’s this?” “It’s a list of every town in Equestria that currently needs a weather-pony. Say the word, and with a little gentle cajoling from me, I can have you starting in any of them by the middle of next week.” Dash scanned the list, but the one city she was hoping to see was conspicuous by its absence. She looked up. “Where’s Cloudsdale?” Dex’s smile turned sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Rainbow, but Cloudsdale is over-subscribed for weather-workers as it is. But I actually think that’s not a bad thing for you. You need to get out there, make a name for yourself. Go to somewhere like Manehatten. It’s a high-profile patch with a lot of weather to manage, but you’d do very well there if you can stick it out. Or Trottingham – historic, famous. Not quite as large perhaps, but you’d have more scope to make your own mark. Show ‘em what you can do.” Dash tried not to make her face look like she’d just drunk an entire pitcher of rotten apples. Leave Cloudsdale? Leave everything she’d ever known behind and go someplace completely new? Where she’d have no friends and no family. A complete fresh start in a big, strange town, far away. By herself. It was too fast. It was too much to think about, especially as she’d avoided thinking about it for too long already. Suddenly graduation was a precipice she was hurtling towards, and by this time next week she’d be flung out over the chasm, alone, with no safety net to catch her. She would either fly or she would fall. And boy, did that drop look sickening all of a sudden. But... she tried hard to steel herself. If being a weather-pony could eventually get her into the Wonderbolts then she had to give it a shot. She took a not-nervous-at-all breath, returned her gaze to the paper, and tried to decide just which unfamiliar place she... Hey... was that–? “Ponyville?” She looked up at Dex, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. He too looked down at the paper in front of Dash. “It’s a quiet, rural village. Their weather-patrol is fairly meager – almost entirely part-time and volunteers. They only have one full-time weather-pony, and he’s just retired. They’ve hardly had any applicants for the vacancy.” He looked up at Rainbow again. “It’s not exactly a... prestigious posting.” “But still good, right? For the Wonderbolts? All that reliable, dependable stuff?” “Yes... but for someone of your ability, you'd likely find it–” “Ponyville, Dex,” said Dash, sporting a cocky grin and a firm stare. “Sign me up.” Dex’s eyebrows climbed even higher for a moment. Then gradually his expression returned to normal. “Okay, Rainbow. If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.” “I’m sure.” The knock on the door was so unexpected and so fleeting that Fluttershy wasn’t even sure she’d heard it the first time. Then it repeated itself and her surprise turned to confusion. “Who could that be?” She didn’t have visitors except for the mail-pony, and he’d already been today. Heading over to the door and opening it, confusion turned right back to surprise and her face just lit up. “Uh... hey Fluttershy. You might not remember me, but we were at–” “Rainbow Dash!” she cried. Her smile spread from ear-to-ear. “What are you doing here?” Dash’s face, initially slightly hesitant when the door had opened, immediately coalesced into a picture of confidence, complete with smirk. “Me? Just getting my bearings as Ponyville’s new weather-pony is all!” “You’ve moved to Ponyville?” Fluttershy couldn’t believe it. She felt giddy. What were the odds that the only friend she’d ever made would happen to move here? “Uh... yeah... about that,” said Dash a little sheepishly. “I... don’t exactly have the bits for a hotel right now, and I don’t know anywhere else in town. I know this is super-uncool, but... would it be okay if maybe I crashed with you for a little bit?” Fluttershy gasped. Then smiled. Then squee’d. With the speed of a striking serpent she reached out with her forelegs and wrapped them around the hovering Rainbow Dash in a tight bear-hug, pulling her quickly into the cottage, closing the door, and leaving the surrounding countryside peaceful and ponyless once again. “I’ll take that as a yes.”