> Best of Both Worlds
>  by Manaphy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Most Important Lesson
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The next day always felt longer than the last. That was what defined Spitfire's life.

Pressing her weight against a flagpole, Spitfire blankly stared at a modest structure constructed from head to hoof with clouds and marble. Cloudsdale Academy was printed across the building, the golden letters somewhat worn down and in need of a bath. And prancing through the open doorway with no end in sight were swarms of colorful foals, all of them wearing smiles that confused her more than anything.

"But isn't school awesome?" Spitfire asked herself, arching an eyebrow.

"Gosh, school was so boring!" a colt shouted from afar. "I need my emergency snack right away!"

There were always naysayers and those who weren't fond of school. Such was the norm for most foals her age, but Spitfire couldn't wrap her mind around why learning about how the world worked could've been boring. It wasn't exhilarating like some of her hobbies outside of school, but it captured her attention to where she'd focus on nothing but the lessons, lectures, or assignments. Everything else outside of flying practice was pushed off to the side.

Maybe that was why Spitfire stood out among the other foals.

Anypony would've been justified in saying that she'd earn a cutie mark based on such an intense desire for learning.

That wasn't the case.

As Spitfire glanced at her flank, the flame-like symbol still adorned it. A sigh left her lips. All she knew about it was that it came after practicing her flying skills. Why the mark came after something Spitfire never considered herself as amazing at, however, was a mystery she hadn't solved. Flying still got her heart pumping, the freedom and adrenaline it provided always painting a smile across her face, but it couldn't hold a candle to learning more about the world.

There was one other problem with such a strange cutie mark.

"What am I supposed to do when my special talent is just flying?" Spitfire muttered, pacing back and forth. "Besides, I'm not gonna learn about everything if all I'm good at is flying. And all pegasi can fly, so what's the point of a cutie mark with such a stupid meaning?" Growls left her mouth, muzzle scrunched up. "I hope there's a way you can change it."

With her head hung low, she glanced to the left and noticed a brown stallion flexing before his two friends, both of them wearing dopey expressions. Shivers rushed through her spine as she backed away, her throat tightening. That terrible trio—Dumbbell, Hoops, and Score—left an impact on the minds of everypony enrolled in the school. How any of those three managed to acquire a friend was a minor miracle, those brats usually antagonizing others they deemed as weird or lame. But Spitfire assumed they must've had something they enjoyed together outside of teasing foals. Even those who also had rotten attitudes most of the time lightened up on occasion and helped their friends. Those three, however, were seemingly always vicious to the core from what little Spitfire knew of them.

"Please don't notice me," muttered Spitfire. Sighing, her wings twitched a little. "Don't they have anything better to do than just being pests?"

Even if their words didn't hurt, the scenes Dumbbell and company crafted always produced the most embarrassing spectacles. Shoving him away whenever he tried fighting or noticing puzzled crowds gathering around such scenes churned Spitfire's stomach at the thought. And Spitfire knew the bleeding heart known as Misty Fly would've gotten involved the minute she was bullied by those morons.

Misty was always one of those foals who'd defend others, regardless of whether she was friends with them or not; finding her rationale for such behavior was harder than searching for a needle in a haystack.

Spitfire exhaled and stepped back. "Okay, maybe he won't bother me again," she whispered. "All I have to do is—"

"If it isn't Spite-fire!" a cacophonous voice shouted. As Spitfire shuddered and turned to the voice's source, she spotted Dumbbell and his henchponies slowly approaching her, their grins wide and the occasional laugh leaving their throats. "How come ya have to be such a brat? If ya actually didn't treat everypony like dirt, maybe you'd be friends with us!"

Blinking, Spitfire sighed and rolled her eyes. "This is—what—the third time you've tried that insult?" she retorted. "Look, I don't have time to deal with you brats. I just wanna go home, do my homework, and read a book or two. Why do ya gotta be such jerks toward everypony who isn't as whiny as you?"

"Whiny?" Dumbbell shrieked. His pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. "See, this is what I'm talking about! You just go off and are rude to everypony because you think you're so much better!" He motioned to his two friends, smiling. "But you're not better! You don't even have two friends to back ya up! Hoops, Score!"

"What?" Dumbbell's friends screamed in unison.

"Tell this lonely little witch about how amazing it is to have friends."

Spitfire's cheeks flushed, twitching as though hundreds of knifes struck her nerves. "Excuse me, but did you just say that I was lonely?"

Hoops nodded. "Yeah, Dumbbell only knows the truth." His cheeks tautened. "He'd never make something up."

"I'm not lonely!" Spitfire took a deep breath, legs wiggling. "Heck, if I was so lonely, then how come I'm not always whining about friendship? You three just want me to join ya to bully others. And for what, picking on some quiet filly who's done absolutely nothing to hurt you? Are you kidding me?"

"We know how ya tick," teased Dumbbell. "And you sure have a short fuse."

The three bullies laughed together, all of them trotting closer to Spitfire like a pack of wolves.

"Look, can we just forget about this and move on?" asked Spitfire. "Whether you're here to make me join you or just to act mean, just hurry it up. I have a million better things to do."

"Now why would we just let ya go?" Dumbbell responded. "Now say that you're lonely and you wish you had a weird cutie mark."

"Or else?"

"Hey!" a familiar voice shouted. "Leave her alone!"

Spitfire swallowed a lump. On cue, a pegasus with a light blue mane slid in front of her, the filly scowling at the bullies. And if her cutie mark of a stylized snowflake amidst a breeze was anything to go by, it was none other than Misty Fly. Anything that could've made such a confrontation more embarrassing was unfolding before her eyes; even a group of colts gathered around and watched the shouting match, their ears twitching as they leaned closer to the action.

"She's done nothing to offend you, yet all you're worried about is making her squirm or lash out at ya!" Misty shouted at the top of her lungs. Her muzzle scrunched up, the filly pawing the cloudy surface beneath her."Now apologize to her this instant! If ya don't, I'm gonna have to tell Miss Cumulonimbus about what you've done!"

"Are ya really gonna do that?" asked Score, a smug smirk running across his face. "Nopony likes tattle-tales."

"And nopony likes rotten bullies like you!" Misty clenched her teeth and stomped closer to the three colts. "Apologize right now if you don't wanna get detention!"

"Detention?" Dumbbell blurted out. He sighed and whipped his tail, cheeks flushed. "Fine, the rotten little twerp can win this one." Dumbbell's lips quivered. He swallowed a lump, his friends following suit. "S-sorry for messing with ya." Turning around, he trotted away from Spitfire and Misty, Score and Hoops trotting beside him. "But don't think we're done for good."

As Misty glared at the three bullies, Spitfire quickly glanced behind her shoulder and noticed a small crowd of foals quickly dispersing. Garnering a large, curious crowd was the problem of having to deal with Dumbbell and Misty's antics, even if their motives were direct opposites. It wasn't that Spitfire loathed being the center of attention, her willingness to perform some flying tricks in gym class one day proof of that, but rather being the center of attention for something embarrassing.

Spitfire hopped onto a marble pathway next to her, hurrying away from the scene as she clenched her saddlebag. Misty trying to console her or promise her friendship and protection would've been too absurd and sappy for even the foals obsessed with drama classes. Heck, Spitfire knew she would've just tried squirming away or keeping her mouth shut, if just to prevent any future awkwardness. But as she noticed more parents approaching the front of the school, Spitfire cracked a smile upon spotting a mare with the same coat and mane color as hers.

Her mother, Stormy Flare, was the perfect pony in Spitfire's eyes. While telling her about the more troublesome elements of school was something Spitfire tended to avoid, there was something comforting about a pony who understood her, taught her valuable lessons, and made sure she was happy without showering her with presents. Spitfire knew she couldn't be lonely with Stormy helping her along.

However, something was amiss, Spitfire's smile vanishing like a mirage.

Stormy wore a somewhat glum expression as she gazed into Spitfire's eyes; it was something that never happened.

Spitfire froze in place, mouth agape. "W-what's wrong, mommy?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong," said Stormy. She knelt down to Spitfire and patted her on the head. "However, according to what your teacher has said, I'm worried about whether you're happy in school. They've said that you're not playing with any of the other foals. And you seem upset about your cutie mark."

Spitfire blinked, no words leaving her mouth.

"Spitfire, you don't have to tell me everything right now, but maybe we should take a walk and chat for a little." Stormy stood upright once more, her eyes focused on Spitfire's. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, dearie. However, I cannot stand by and do nothing when my daughter is upset about something."

Shuddering, Spitfire avoided eye contact and pursed her lips. "I'm not upset."

"Tell your mother the truth." Stormy's brow furrowed. 

A sigh left Spitfire's lips, head hung low. "Fine, I'm upset about my cutie mark.'

"Anything else?"

"And maybe I'm not making friends, but why is that important?"

Stormy cracked a faint smile and nodded. "That's better." She motioned a hoof to Spitfire and trotted forward, the filly catching up in a flash. "Come along, dearie. There's something I want to show you."

Spitfire bobbed her head. "Works for me."

As both Spitfire and Stormy made their way along the pathway, the school became smaller and smaller from where Spitfire was until it was a mere speck on the horizon, the earlier dramas no longer squeezing her throat as she thought about it. At least there were some sights within Cloudsdale worth gawking at, Spitfire wondering when she'd visit the library again and what kind of books she'd read next. And failing that, any trip to a museum or something she'd learn through experience would've been a suitable substitute.

"Maybe there's somepony out there like me," said Spitfire. A soft chuckle left her lips. "Maybe there's a prodigy somewhere in Cloudsdale or even Canterlot who's always focused on her studies and destined to perform great things." Her tail whipped about, a slight smirk adorning her visage. "Maybe not, but who knows?"

"Don't worry about what others may think or do," said Stormy. She gently tapped Spitfire's head. "Just focus on being yourself. You'll be happier that way, even if some ponies may argue otherwise. Your father and I love you for who you are. Your teachers appreciate how much effort you put into things. And I think there's somepony out there who'd love to be your friend."

Spitfire paused for a moment, Misty immediately coming to mind. Being friends with somepony like her poked Spitfire's nerves at the thought, especially with Misty's tendencies to break up conflicts involving bullies being awkward at best. "Well, that last one is kinda complicated. I don't know of many ponies who'd want to be my friend. Besides, I don't even talk to any of them unless I have to, and we don't do group projects that often."

"It may seem hard at first, but I know you can do it." Without warning, Stormy tapped Spitfire's shoulder, the pair stopping. "Anyway, we're here. You'll want to take in the sights and think about what's going on over there." Stormy cracked a smirk for a moment. "It helps having a husband working with the Cloudsdale Weather Factory, so be sure to thank him, too."

Standing before Spitfire and Stormy was a lone bench. Off in the distance was a plateau, bluish specks dancing around it like fireflies. The trails of smoke forming wherever they went created patterns that resembled flowers or stars. The grass adorning this strange landmass shone under the sunlight, the cloudy structures next to the landmass decorated with lavish details. And Spitfire couldn't help herself from rubbing the top of her head upon noticing a series of rings. They appeared as if they floated above the plateau at first, though the faintest hint of supports made themselves known as Spitfire squinted at them.

The plateau was like a foreign land. Spitfire's eyes twinkled; she had to know more.

"I bet you're curious about what that place is," said Stormy. She approached the lonesome bench and sat down, Spitfire sitting right next to her. "That's the famous Wonderbolt Academy, a place where talented acrobats and those training to join their ranks practice and learn all sorts of tricks and moves."

"So they're training to become Wonderbolts, right?" Spitfire turned toward Stormy and cracked a smile. While Spitfire loved diving into a good book, there wasn't much she knew about the Wonderbolts outside of their shows and some of the stories about them. "Why did you want to show me this?"

"Your cutie mark was earned through amazing flying feats, remember?"

Spitfire bobbed her head.

"The Wonderbolts are where those with such incredible talents come together to entertain audiences with dazzling shows. Yet they're more than just a team of acrobats. They fly all around Equestria and perform shows outside of Cloudsdale, help others in need, or even go on dangerous missions."

"Dangerous missions?" Spitfire cocked her head. "Well, with the Everfree Forest a source of trouble for some Equestrian towns, I guess somepony has to help take care of things." Closing her eyes, Spitfire took a deep breath, opening them again a second later. It sounded exciting, but whether it was for her was something entirely different. "But as I've said, I'm more focused on knowing as much as possible, even if flying is fun."

"What if I told you that the Wonderbolts can combine some elements of both? Adventure, flying, exploring, and so much more are among the things they do while on the job. Some of them can be spectacular from what I've heard, a few of the more famous Wonderbolts stumbling on some amazing discoveries."

Spitfire gasped, her smile brighter than the sun overhead. "Really?"

Stormy nodded. "Really."

"How did I not know that before?" Spitfire hopped onto Stormy's lap and gawked at the plateau. Even the aerial moves the ponies from afar performed caught her attention, Spitfire unable to blink. "This is amazing! And I don't know if I'll be strong enough to become a Wonderbolt, but I'd be all for it!"

"Your father and I will always support you." Stormy's grin widened. "What we want most of all is for you to be happy."

"Thank you so much for showing me this!"

Stormy giggled, gently patting Spitfire's head. "You're welcome, dearie." Pausing, Stormy then took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. "Now, I should talk about why you're hesitant about making friends. I know that you've been bullied by others and you're unsure whether friendships can last. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

Spitfire's smile twisted into a blank expression. She slowly nodded. "Yeah, ya got me."

"Spitfire, there's a program at Cloudsdale Academy that help shyer ponies like yourself chat with fellow fillies and colts. It can also help you with making new friends." Stormy tapped Spitfire's shoulder, the latter looking up. "And while I know you may have some issues with this filly, I think Misty Fly would love to be your friend."

As much as Spitfire wished it was more of Misty just being herself, she couldn't deny that Stormy was right. Somepony who jumped in to protect her at all costs couldn't be doing it without a purpose, even if they were a bleeding heart like Misty was. Misty was probably the kind of filly who'd scold anypony—regardless of age or fame—if they dared messed with her friends.

If Spitfire was going to prove Dumbbell and the bullies wrong about loneliness, her first friend would probably have to start with Misty. And if it all went well, perhaps making new friends would've been in her future as well. While it wasn't guaranteed that Spitfire would've found friendship with Misty or even anypony in the school right away, it was worth a shot. The worst that could've happened was receiving a friendly rejection.

Then again, Misty would've likely been ecstatic at the thought of making a new friend.

"Okay, mommy," said Spitfire, smirking once more. "I'll talk with Misty tomorrow during lunch."

"And if you ever have any troubles, I'm here to help."

Spitfire resumed watching the faraway Wonderbolts practicing their latest stunts and feats, wondering if she'd ever join them in all sorts of spectacles or adventures. While it wasn't exactly the most scholarly of pursuits, perhaps this melding of her talents and interests was what she needed all along. And as for friendship, maybe the answer to that problem was there all along in the form of an odd filly.

A new chapter of Spitfire's life was awaiting her.