Stroge
The ability to fly is a curious thing, and like the great magic I have, I can only imagine what life without it would be like. They are curious thoughts to entertain, and I sometimes let myself get carried away with them, thinking about what it would be like to not have divine flight magic and powers. Though it may be no more than an occasional bout of whimsy, I like something in all my daydreams, for I am prone to many. They always stay there, for I am more than content with my own, differing nature. Envisioning the numbness to the world mortal senses and capabilities can bestow is dull after enough time.
Tonight, I had no such meditations. Of all the dreams in the world that called to me from the mysterious astral plane, I was here, and I was laughing.
At this moment, I only had to fly! My mane billowed behind me and my ears were filled with the whoosh of air, and the familiar whip of wind flowing through my feathers. Neither rough nor gentle, it streamed past my face as I soared, coldly caressing my cheek. To think that I had been able to resist the thrill of a race with my friend, and the tug of the winds that inspired such a powerful urge, threading their way through everything they could.
Even my flight magic, which was starting to manifest properly, was showing. When my flight was sure and strong, and my power given greater reign, my nature was plainer to see to all who looked upon me. About my feather tips and spreading outward towards the purple highlights of my mane were the sure signs: brilliant sparks of white had begun to crackle to life. While bursting and bright, they were harmless to me, though they were lightening-bright.
Among the waking world, this was a spectacular sight for any mortal see, regardless of the constant natural displays of my power I made every single day. Here, it was no less beautiful, but it appeared more like the contents of this dream: starry lights floating far above, the dark whorls of the colored void we found ourselves in, and mists and winds that tugged at us with an exciting chill.
How I melded with this environment, and still managed to stick out reminded me of the ponies who thought they had control over their dreams. There were those who wandered them, of course, and those who influenced them all the same. None of them could weave and master them so much as be at peace with them like I could, or be in harmony with the worlds their slumber opened. No other creature, mortal otherwise, could walk dreams, know them, and rule them like I. For that, I felt nothing but grateful and delighted. When I found such ponies who thought they could 'beat' their dreams — yes, it was put that childishly and nothing more — I wished to laugh. It was no different than trying to run from one's reflection in a maze of mirrors.
And laugh I did! Though, often for different reasons. Cadance's dream agility allowed her to do wild spirals of flight that I had not seen from her in some time. She hollered joyously, lavender feather tips caressing swirls of mist while she flew freely a few pony-lengths behind me.
It certainly appeared that I would be victorious!
...Until that musical voice erupted into wild cheers behind me and a pastel blur came careening overhead, bringing the sound of feathers and chaos flying upon the dream-winds.
She fell, purposefully, in a plummet. Far, far below from where we took off. To most, this place would be a monotonous and alien sight, but all was plain to me. This dreamscape had many of the hues of midnight and the chilly colors of the great Arctic skies, every one of them vivid and reaching across this expanse.
I dived downward with more prowess, feathers carving the air with my own swoops and the swiftness that stunned many and fueled the rush of the activity. That rush, the great adrenaline this brought, was more magic to be than my crackling white that danced along my feather tips, than the sheer glow that overcame my vision, the delicate pale spiral of ghostly aura that flashed to life upon my horn from freed excitement alone, and how my dark mane had shifted to a beautiful pure white. My body emanated a pulse of fair and powerful light. This made my whole form cheery and pale, and behind me, the white-blue lightning speed trail I called my own was free.
Hope was light in my chest; I was happy, so very happy, that Cady and I could enjoy ourselves so.
I was a sight, and my display greater than her more spastic one. She was still sprawled upon the ground, but squinting up at me, one forehoof used to protect her eyes from my cold, dazzling light...
...and I plowed into the intangible ground of the dream. My wings were spread wide and flinging sparks as I slid past her, as an arrow does fly past an obstacle. All of my mane whipped behind me, and I just screamed in wild delight because I could.
I had to canter back to the spot where I left Cady, my overall display of ultimate divinity dimmed, yet my blood still burned for more, and my mind still buzzed with the lingering excitement that was not to vanish soon. Artful recklessness was a wonder and pleasure to me no matter the era. Playfulness was not something I could outgrow. And my smile, bright and oh-so-earnest, was still upon my face. Murky white aura climbed up the spiral of my horn at my will, and I skillfully mended any minor tears and disruptions I had caused to Cady's dreamscape, flashing an honest, if awkward, smile when needed, not that she would be mad with me. When I had finished, I trotted up to her, for she still sat. Alone. Her curls were in disarray, and she looked at me with the quiet sparkle in her eyes that I knew to be the little bit of foal-like wonder that crept out when she saw my magic at work.
I smiled. "After all these years, are you still so surprised by my magic?"
Head tilted at me, she gives a lopsided nod. "Yeah," she mumbles, giving a faint chuckle that betrays her experience. "Always," she adds with clarity.
I extend a hoof to her, to help her up.
As a sister would.
Stats
Page generated in 0.018 seconds
Total duration
1,040 users online
1,919,871 hits today, 1,822,946 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Don't you dare you fucker
Also, I really enjoyed this little chapter. It was so different than the last, in both tone and content. I can't wait to see where this thing goes. Or... maybe I can, if you do what I think you'll do.
9101983
S’added already yo.
For all that they drifted apart, I can't help but think these four still do love each other. Though I'm wondering what's going on between Cadance and Twilight that was mentioned last chapter.
I do have one question that doesn't go to the story. How did you get to use the cover art? I've asked the artist if I could, and they haven't given me an answer.
9106170
Yes and no, because it depends on the pair. Some still get along, others have long since broken away from one another, with nothing to be rekindled. Cadance still loves Twilight as a sister, and Twilight still loves Cadance as a sister. Luna does not regard Twilight as much beyond a naive child any longer, and hasn't for a long, long time. Cadance and Luna clearly still get along. Celestia's relationship with all of them is not touched upon in this one, nor is the conflict between Twilight and Cadance, though another story, Remember When, does have that. But it also takes place much later than this one.
As for the art? The artist isn't one that gives any kind of warning against using their art, or a request not to. You don't really need to ask so long as you credit them.
So much vivid description in this one. Whereas the last chapter had a sad, yet wistful air to it, this one was very colorful and playful. Cadance being truly free and still full of wonder in her dreams is such a cute sight to see. Flying scenes can be difficult, but the one you've painted here is absolutely beautiful.