Chapter 15: Learning to Fly with Bad News
A/N: After the last chapter I made a decision to change the way that the chapter header appears inside each page. It's only a cosmetic change, so there's nothing really to worry about.
A/N as of 1/19/(20)14: I made a mistake when calculating the days during the "process" in order to line up with the most recent chapter release (chapter 17). My mistake. It happens when someone (me) doesn't get enough sleep.
Chapter 15: Learning to Fly with Bad News
October 27 – Twilight’s Room, 5am
And that’s why we can’t get your daughter back as soon as we originally thought. Please do know that we are looking down every avenue possible to bring her back home. I will get her back, that I promise you. I’m so sorry that I can’t bring her back sooner.
Sincerely,
Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic
Twilight looked down at the fifteenth iteration of the letter she was going to send to Spitfire’s parents. She had poured her utmost sincerity into that letter. ‘I know I’m a perfectionist, but you can’t perfect sincerity,’ she thought as she found the address to her parents’ house. She wrote the castle’s address and Spitfire’s parents’ address. She picked up her phone and dialed the guard captain’s quarters.
“Captain Chrome Arrow speaking,” the guard captain said sleepily over the phone.
“Captain this is Twilight Sparkle, please send Private Sentry to my quarters,” she replied.
“Of course Princess, he’ll be there soon,” he said before hanging up.
A few minutes later a knock came on Twilight’s door. She walked over and opened it in standing at attention was a sleepy looking, yet professionally dressed Flash Sentry, “You needed me, Princess?”
“Yes I need you to take this to the address on the letter. Please deliver it post-haste,” she answered handing over the letter. He put it inside the breastplate of his armor.
“Is there anything else you needed me for?”
“That is all, you’re dismissed.” Flash gave her a quick salute before walking away. Twilight closed to door and sat back down at her desk. ‘Now to figure out another power source,’ she thought as she looked over notes on the power requirements. Even being as smart as she is these numbers were even giving her a headache. “Maybe I should check in on Spitfire and Andrew,” she said to no one in particular. “Plus she needs to know what’s going on.”
***
Mojave Desert (Literally the middle of nowhere), 7am
“Come on Andrew, it’s not that hard,” Spitfire said hovering a good twenty feet above me. She was wearing running shorts and a sports bra, allowing her wings free movement.
“Says the one who’s been flying her entire life,” I counter crossing my arms. I was wearing one of my old shirts in the back of which I slashed two straight holes for my wings to fold out of, and retract through. And people call me crazy for always carrying a knife.
“Oh come on, it’s not THAT hard. I mean yesterday you were watching birds take off and fly on the internet as well was watching a video on the physics of flight. You have all the knowledge, all you have to do is apply it.”
“Now you sound like my high school counselor, except he was less hot.” Spits gave me a ‘really?’ look. “What? It’s true, the guy was as ugly as fuck.”
She shook her head trying to clear out that image and landed. “Anyway just do as I do,” said before making a strong wing-stroke to take off while bending her knees to jump. As her wings reached the down stroke and plume of air rushed away from her she jumped while flapping harder to get more altitude before hovering about the same height as she was before. I looked at her with disbelief, “Come on, you’ll be fine. Plus I’ll catch you if you start failing, I wasn’t named Captain of the Wonderbolts for not being speedy,” she said that last part with a smug grin.
“Fine… But you’d better catch me!” I yelled while pointing at her.
“Would you expect any less from your wife?” she said still grinning.
“I guess, but I don’t remember ‘Elvis’ saying anything about catching your spouse from freefalling while flying.”
“Well then I shouldn’t have to catch you then,” Spits said turning her head in a defiant motion and closed her eyes. She opened one and looked at me before looking away quickly and closed it again. She was being playful again, I think. She turned back to me and was still a little miffed that I was still on the ground, “Well are you coming up or not?”
I sighed, it looks like I’m not going to get out of this one. But I want to fly now, it’s like it’s hardwired into my brain. Every time I’ve thought of flight a little itch starts in the back of my brain and my wings start to twitch. It’s like an addictive substance. I spread my wings in a stance like Spits had before bending my knees. Taking a deep breath I flapped downwards and jumped as high as I could. But let’s be honest, white guys can’t jump.
“Come on Andrew, you can do it!” Spits yelled in encouragement. I flapped harder and I felt as though I was launched into the air. “Yeah! Just like that!” I sped right past her and was heading straight up towards the sky. “Ok not like that,” she commented before following me. “Andrew slow down!”
“How?!?” I shouted back. I was still ascending faster still. I couldn’t stop flapping or I’d fall to my death. Call it fight or flight, wow that’s pun filled. I punched through a cloud, but instead of passing right through it I felt some resistance. As a reached the top of the cloud I exhausted myself and my wings just failed to catch any more air. I started freefalling and I fell right on a cloud, but I didn’t fall through like I thought I would. In fact I was lying on it, like I would on a bed. And to be honest it is the comfiest thing I’ve ever laid on. I can see why Spits speaks so highly of relaxing on them.
“Andrew, where are you?” Spitfire shouted as she burst out from the cloud a few feet away from me, looking around frantically.
“I’m over *pant* here,” I said waving my hand. She turned around and saw my exhausted body lying on the fluffy water vapor.
She came over and embraced me, “Oh thank Celestia you’re ok. Why didn’t you stop?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I didn’t want to fall but I don’t know how to hover like that.”
“You know I would have caught you, right?” she asked taking a seat next to me, making sure to avoid sitting on my, as of last night, preened wings. You'd be surprised how sensitive each one of those little mofos are.
“Yeah I know,” I sighed. “My brain though turned off all rational thought.”
We sat there for a bit, “You know you were pretty fast though, we’ve got to be what? 16,000 feet up?” She looked down off the side of the cloud, “Yeah that seems about right.” She did some mental math. “That’s roughly 180 miles per hour, not bad for a newbie.”
“Thanks, I think,” I replied. “Hey one thing’s been bugging me, why aren’t we freezing to death or asphyxiating at this altitude?”
“Well angels have a passive magic that creates a small barrier of heated air that keeps us warm for a time at these higher altitudes,” she said as she poked my bare forearm. I felt that her finger was indeed warm. “As for the breathing your lungs are able to get more oxygen out of this thin air. Even some of our best scientists aren’t quite sure how, but we can and we accept it. However at altitudes of over 20,000 feet we need oxygen tanks or pressurized planes to travel.”
“Well that makes sense,” I replied as I relaxed a bit. Then something hit me, “Uhh… shouldn’t we be a little worried about planes flying?” And almost as if on cue a Boeing 747 breached the clouds behind us and flew less than a few dozen feet above our heads.
***
Meanwhile inside the plane...
The young girl looked out the window and her eyes widened. "Mommy, mommy!" the girl yelled. "Those two people out there are standing on the clouds!"
The mother looked at her daughter angrily, "What did I tell you about being stupid? You don't get a birthday this year," she said as she turned away.
***
“Yeah let’s get out of here,” Spits said getting up in a hurry.
I stood up just as quickly and stood at the edge, “So uhh… how do you land?” I asked nervously.
“Do exactly what you did but in reverse, do one big stroke and crouch your legs when you’re about to touch the ground,” she said as she stepped off the ledge.
“Great- this can’t end well,” I said as I too followed suit.
***
Langley, Virginia
“You know why you’re here, correct?” the black suit clad man asked seated at his desk.
“Yes Director, I am to investigate the incident out West that happened last week,” the agent replied with little to no emotion.
“What exactly, Agent Finley?”
“To investigate what happened with the project listed as ‘Angel’ and to make sure the other projects in the facility have not been further compromised by any foreign intelligence agents.”
“And if you find a foreign agent?”
“Attempt to capture, if not then I am to terminate him or her with extreme prejudice,” he replied, again with no emotion.
“Good, your flight leaves in twenty minutes,” the director said handing over a file folder. Inside were files pertaining to the investigation, all were marked with the label ‘Top secret, eyes only.’ As the spy left the room the director picked up the phone, “Get me Colonel Hernandez, base commander of Area 51.”
***
Briggs Residence
Spitfire helped me back inside the house after driving back from the middle of nowhere. Yeah my first landing didn’t go so well and fucked up my ankle. “Well that could have gone better,” I said as I plopped down into my recliner and pulled the release that allowed the footrest to spring up.
Spits walked back from the kitchen holding a bag of frozen peas. “Well it also could have gone worse,” she countered as she handed me the bag. I placed it on my ankle, the feeling of heat being stolen away by the frozen vegetables was nice. “You could have died, so that’s a upside,” she said as she took a seat in the chair next to mine.
“Hey can you grab the ankle wrap from under the sink,” I asked as I shifted slightly. Sitting with wings is a little different. “I want to get this wrapped up soon.” She left and a minute later was back with the wrap.
“Here let me wrap it for you, just let me know if it’s a little too tight,” she said as she moved the peas aside and started wrapping what I hope is just a twisted ankle.
“So what was your worst flying injury?” I asked.
She thought for a moment, “I once broke one of the bones in my wing after a crash landing practicing a new maneuver we were working on for a show. With magic assisted healing I was back flying in a week,” she said as she finished wrapping the ankle.
“What I wouldn’t give for a little ‘magic’ right now,” I said with a bit of sarcasm as I placed my impromptu ice pack back on my ankle. I picked up the remote and turned on the TV. “You want to watch something or should I pick?” I asked going into the DVR.
“We could watch some Archer, we’re on the tail end of season three, right?” she asked while getting herself comfortably seated.
“Sounds about right.” I started the episode we were currently on and soon the room was filled with our outrageous laughter. When one episode ended I started the next one. Hours were tastefully wasted as we watched the comical spy go on his misadventures. When we reached the end of season three I tried to stand up. As I tried to put a little weight on it I winced from the small spike of pain shooting up my spine.
“Sit down, you don’t want to make it worse,” Spits said as she pushed me back down into my chair and walked back into the kitchen for another ice pack.
“Yes, Florence Nightingale,” I said while rolling my eyes.
She came back in and put the ice pack under my ankle, “So other than landing horribly, how was your first flight?” she asked as she took her own seat.
I closed my eyes as I thought back to what I felt. Absolute freedom with nothing restraining me. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. I guess I just need more practice I guess,” I replied while shrugging. I winced as I felt a small jolt of pain from my ankle as a tried to move it, “Especially with the landings.”
“Spitfire are you there?” an ethereal voice said, we automatically recognized the voice belonging to Twilight. “Hello?”
“Princess Twilight?” Spits replied. “I thought you were going to try to talk to us next week sometime?” the confusion evident in her voice.
“I have to tell you guys something, I have some bad news,” she said before pausing. “It’s going to take a while longer before we can get you back home,” Twilight said with a pang of guilt.
“What do you mean?” I asked. She then proceeded to tell us about how both princesses disappeared for over a full day due to these black vines powered by ‘chaos mana,’ whatever that is. And in order to prevent the ‘Tree of Harmony’ from wilting to death they had to give it back the Elements, the same that were being used to power the eventual spell that would open the portal for Spits to go home, to kill off the vines and restore order.
“I’m sorry Spitfire, I really am,” Twilight again apologized, the sincerity of her words were true.
“It’s ok Princess, there’s a saying here: ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,’” Spits replied.
“Or the needs of the one,” I added. I feel as though I just quoted the ending achievements for Fable II.
“Listen I have to go now, I have to conserve as much power as possible for the future to give you more updates. We haven’t given up yet,” Twilight said as her voice dissipated.
“Now what?” Spits asked.
“We keep the status quo,” I replied hopping over to her on one leg. I sat down and put my arm around her, “They’ll keep us in the loop and eventually you’ll be able to go home.” She snuggled into me, like we would when we go to sleep for the night, but she was crying. As she did I rubbed her arm in an attempt to comfort her. I just hope that this doesn’t become some sort of hopeless venture, for her sake.
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When you mentioned Langley Virginia, I instinctively looked out my window to make sure that CIA agents weren't nearby
I live literally 10 minutes from there