• Published 30th Sep 2019
  • 1,293 Views, 52 Comments

Scars in the Sky - Toriandthehorse



War isn't easy for anypony. Not even for mares like Rainbow Dash. What's her before and after?

  • ...
3
 52
 1,293

2 - Everlasting Scar

It was dark tonight. That was the first thing I noticed when I step off the large, covered hot air balloon. And it was silent. There weren’t any cheers for those of us who returned; the amount lost was just too great for that. The stallion in front of me steps out of line, greeted by a silently weeping mare. I watch as they embrace, pulling each other tight. I shift my pack, wince when it hits my sore wing. I was so tired. Every part of me was stiff and heavy.

Ponies were starting to come forward, searching for one of us. I had told Twilight and the others I didn’t want them here now. I didn’t want them seeing even a fraction of what my life had been like the past few months. I didn’t want to lose it when I saw them.

A light chatter picks up when more ponies are reunited with each other. The sounds of crying are audible. I keep my head down. I’d heard crying far too often these last few months.

“Rainbow Dash? Dash?” I hear faintly. No. He shouldn’t be here. I heard the yells again, closer this time. A sigh escapes, but I halt, waiting. They’ll see me eventually. Sure enough, familiar hoofsteps signal their arrival.

“Rainbow?” A more feminine voice asks, quietly. As though war had made me fragile. I square my shoulders, still don’t turn around.

“You aren’t supposed to be here.” I answer, tone flat. A hesitant beat before the hoofsteps come even closer. I almost laugh. Before I left, Spitfire would have marched right up to me. But now, silence.

“Dash?” The first voice speaks up tentatively. I exhale, sharply.

“Soarin.” I say in response. My voice wants to break; I can feel it. This was exactly why I didn’t want anypony here. Silence again. I was sure that by now, they were right up behind my tail. So. They’d already seen the first of many battle scars. The one that dipped from the top of my tail to my left hindquarter before crisscrossing over my back. The recent work of a knife.

“Here… let me take that.” Soarin steps closer, reaching for my bag. I tense, instinctively ready to fight.

“It’s fine.” My guarded position forces a hard edge into my voice.

“Okay.” He whispers, stepping away.

I start walking in the direction of my cloud house. If they want to come, they’ll come. After another pause, hoofsteps start up again, walking after me.

The roads of Ponyville are almost… foreign to me now. Though it was so late, light still spills out of brightly shuttered cottages. Ponies walk the streets. Delicate flower gardens give off such sweet scents, my eyes water. I don’t know what to make of it. I’m used to cries of war, and shell stained floors. The bitter smell of blood my nose had grown accustomed to.

The ponies shoot me glances, when I walk past. Some are of admiration. Some are of pity. Most of respect. Once upon a time, I might have bragged. But now… I was just too tired. I want to go home, and sleep. I want to get away from the pain, get away from the scars, and get away from the memories.

“Rainbow Dash! Wait up!” I hear a voice yell. No. No, no, no, please no. Not her. I keep walking, keep my head down. Very rapid hoofsteps race after me. The thuds came quick, like the loud blasts of magic from enemy teams.

“Rainbow Dash! I’msogladyou’rebackandImissedyousomuch *gasp*
andhowwasityouwon’tbelievewhatyoumissedherebutthatdoesn’tmatternowwhatmattersisthatyou’rebackandnowwecandostufftogetheragainandI’mjustsosogladyou’reback!” Scootaloo finishes with a gasp, skidding to a halt next to me. Maybe she expects me to stop and talk. I keep to my path, not even looking at her. “Rainbow Dash?” She jumps to her feet and trots after me. I feel her teeth grab my tail lightly and tug. Pain shoots through my dock, burning and familiar. The scar throbs.

“Leave me alone.” I mutter. The words make Scootaloo freeze.

“B-but Rainbow Dash! You’re finally back! Can we go do something? Maybe go for a fly?” She stammers.

“No, Scootaloo. I’d really appreciate if you just left me be.” I pull my patience together.

“A-are you okay?” Her voice is so innocent, and small. I give her a sideways glance.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” In truth, no, I guess I’m not. But I won’t tell her about what I’ve seen. I won’t tell her about why I’m not okay. She murmurs something I can’t quite understand. I still don’t turn toward her. The sight would scare her too much.

By now, we’ve reached the border of Ponyville. There aren’t as many ponies still out here. I can see my drifting cloud house above. I’ll have to fly up. I duck my head and gaze behind me. Spitfire and Soarin are both still flying low behind me. Spitfire is staring straight ahead, at everything and at nothing. Soarin’s jaw is clenched, gaze darting around, always looking; never settling.

“Thanks for coming this far. But I’m fine now. I’ll see you in the morning.” I shift uncomfortably. I’m not sure I can make it up to the cloud like I used to. I don’t need my captain and coltfriend seeing that. Seeing me like that.

“I’ll fly you up.” Soarin lands lightly and steps closer. Spitfire pauses, then briefly lays her wing over Soarin’s back. I can see her muzzle moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. Soarin nods and gives an attempt to smile.

“No… that’s okay. It’s fine.” I murmur.

“Dash. I will fly you up.” This time, he puts extra weight into the words. Fine then. If he wants to see what war did to my wings, that’s his choice. I tried to warn him.

Spitfire lets her eyes linger on mine for an extra moment. Then slowly, she beats her wings and takes off, ever so gracefully. She’s like a bird; like she’s meant to be in the air. She’s aggressive, sure, but so agile. I missed her.

“You coming?” Soarin calls. I look up. He’s hovering above me, looking down and waiting. I glance back at my wings. Start to unfold them. Several feathers are still misplaced, having never gotten a proper preening after the bandages were removed. On my left wing, a long scar trails from the edge and laces around and around.

“Y-yeah.” I manage. But now that day is coming back to me. My pulse starts to pick up. The loud blasts. Our unicorns firing off protection spells. They’re too far away; the spells won’t work. But the call’s coming – it’s time for the pegasi to go. The ice and snow is making it hard to fly; pelting against our wings. The red-hot glow of enemy unicorn magic. My wings snap back into their folded position. Tremors rush through my hooves. They’re starting to fire blasts at us. Blossomforth goes down. So does Crafty Crate. The yells are all around me, so loud and shrill. I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

“Rainbow?” Soarin’s voice cuts through my thoughts. My breaths are coming in gasps. Only now do I notice that I’d squeezed my eyes shut. I force them open to see Soarin standing next to me. He’s studying me. “What’s going on?”