“This is ridiculous,” Trixie grumbled.
“You promised,” Flash countered.
“I wasn’t aware that it was going to be in the air,” Trixie countered.
“It’s the Junior Wonderbolt’s Flying competition, where else would it be?” Flash snarked back, “Now get on my back.”
“Can’t we rent a balloon or something?”
“You saw the prices, it’s only a day.” Flash countered, “You said we have to save money if we’re going to take her to…”
“Take me to where, daddy?” the voice of a younger filly cut in. Trixie and Flash glanced towards the speaker: An azure pegasus filly with her mane tied back in a ponytail.
“It’s nothing, Curtain Call. Your father’s just being stubborn.” Trixie responded.
“I’m not being stubborn, your mother wants to take a Balloon to Cloudsdale.”
“Balloons are fun,” Curtain Call continued, “We got to ride one on a field trip and it was fun.”
“I know, sweetie,” Flash tussled his daughter’s mane, “But they’re expensive.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“They’re going to take a huge chunk out of our budget.”
“I make enough to replace it.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t been paid yet,” Flash countered, “They’re going to take it out of my money.”
“...I just don’t like flying on the back of others,” Trixie grumbled, “Your father nearly dropped me.”
“It was an accident, how many times do we have to go over this?” He grumbled, “The flock came out of nowhere.”
“If we don’t hurry up, we’re gonna be late,” Curtain Call cut off her mother’s response.
“...She’s right,” Trixie admitted, “This is her day and I promised.”
Trixie reluctantly climbed onto Flash’s back and tightened her grip around his neck.
“Don’t crash into any birds,’ she muttered.
“Did you cast the cloudwalking spell already?”
“I did. I’m not that stupid.”
“Then let’s go.”
Flash lifted off the ground as Curtain Call followed after him.
“After can we go to visit Aunty Headdress?” Curtain asked.
“Probably not, sweetie,” Flash responded, “We’re only staying for the day.”
“Awww.” Curtain Call pouted. After a moment she flittered higher, above her father’s head.
“Race me!” the filly challenged.
“NO!” Trixie yelled, tightening her grip around Flash’s neck. The pegasus’ eyes bulged out as he sputtered.
“...Sorry,” Trixie’s grip slackened.
“Not when I have your mother on my back,” Flash coughed, “Besides, you need to save your energy for the competition.”
“Fine….If I win can we get ice cream?”
“Maybe,” Flash shrugged. Trixie’s grip tightened and she glared at him.
“Sorry.”
“And you wonder why I hate this,” she muttered.
“We’re here.”
Flash touched down on the clouds. Trixie scrambled off of her husband’s back, landing in an ungraceful pile on the clouds. After a moment, she got back onto her hooves, dusting herself off. Curtain Call continued to flitter around her parents.
“Alright, we better get you checked in,” Flash chuckled, “No more flying until the competition.”
“...Do I have to walk?”
“Yep.” Flash responded.
“Mom, do I have to walk?” she turned her attention to her mother. Flash frowned as Trixie stifled a chuckle.
“Listen to your father,”
“Aww…” Curtain Call pouted as she landed.
The three made their way into the city, passing shops and homes. Curtain Call paused and stared at one of the buildings.
“Dad, what’s that?” she asked as she pointed at it.
“That’s the Rainbow Factory.”
“Do they put the bad pegasi in the rainbows?”
“What? Of course not, who told you that?” Flash demanded.
“Crasher’s big brother did. When she had her birthday sleepover, we stayed up late and told scary stories. He said that pegasi that failed their first flight test were made into rainbows.”
Trixie stared at her daughter, “Who comes up with this nonsense?”
“It’s a urban legend in the pegasus community,” Flash sighed, “You know, like the boogiemare or the Lost spellbook of Catrina.”
“...I’ve never heard it,” she muttered.
“So what do they do with the pegasi that fail their first flight test?” Curtain call asked.
“Hm? Oh, they make them into pies.” Flash chuckled. He looked at his wife and daughter, with a grin on his face: Trixie looked back at him with an unamused look of disgust, while Curtain Call’s expression was one of horror.
“...I was joking,” He meekly apologize.
“It wasn’t funny,” Trixie crossly replied before walking away from her husband.
“...I don’t want pie any more,” Curtain Call muttered as she quickly followed.
“...Alright, I guess that joke was in poor taste,” Flash admitted as he trailed behind them.
The family continued down the street before heading towards a stadium. Trixie and Curtain Call trotted past a sign reading “CHECK IN” and stopped at a desk. An overly chipper pegasus mare beamed at the two of them.
“Hi there! Here to sign in?”
“Yep!” Curtain Call fluttered upwards, into view.
“Aren’t you adorable. Name?”
“Curtain Call,” Trixie answered.
“Hmmm…” the mare flipped through a few of the sheets in front of her, “Curtain Call...Curtain Call...Ah!” she pulled out a paper, “Here it is. Just sign on the line and have her sign as well.”
Trixie’s aura flared up as she picked up one of the pencils. With flair, she signed her own name and set the paper down so that her daughter could sign. The filly quickly jotted down her name and passed the paper back up to the clerk.
“Everything looks good, she’s free to enter the waiting room.”
“By herself?”
“Well, parents are allowed in, but they might not be able to get seats,” the receptionist responded, “But we do have some volunteers back there to keep them calm, and we will call for parents if there’s a problem.”
“...Very well.”
Trixie looked down at her daughter, “Do you want one of us to stay behind with you?”
“Nuh-uh.” Curtain Call shook her head, “I can do it.”
“Very well. But before you go…” Trixie’s aura flared up. Her saddlebag opened up, and she pulled something out. She smiled as she held out a small cape, made out of the same sparkling cloth as Trixie’s. She smiled as she fastened it around the awestruck filly’s neck.
“A little good luck charm for my little magician,” Trixie leaned down and kissed Curtain Call’s forehead.
“Thanks mom,” the filly hugged Trixie before trotting off into the waiting room.