> From Their Perch in the Sky > by pokeking95 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Kindred Spirits > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was curious how sorrow could make ten minutes seem like ten lifetimes.  That was precisely how Raindrops felt. Born Sunshower Raindrops, she was a rather average pegasus mare, young and unassuming-looking, with a coat of pale jasmine, a loose, light cyan mane, and a cutie mark matching her name.  She was a cute little thing, sweet and demure in personality, if rather shy.  However, her normally pleasant appearance was marred by her sullen expression and the gloomy aura that she projected. Goodbyes were never easy, after all. The obliviously cheerful afternoon Sun beating down on her, Raindrops slowly made her way down a narrow, empty street in a low-end but tranquil suburb of Cloudsdale.  Unlike the traditional, grandiose mansions and villas in the city’s heart—meant to evoke the Pegasopolis that Commander Hurricane had originally envisioned—the cloud houses here were small and humble, catered towards the less fortunate of Cloudsdale’s populace. It was here where Raindrops had spent the past few days visiting her parents.  Their little home had gotten somewhat cramped during her stay, but neither Raindrops nor her parents paid it any mind; it had been a precious gift to simply have their whole family reunited after so long.  Because of their usually conflicting schedules, such an event was all too rare, but that only meant that they had to make the most out of every moment.  Indeed, from chatting about recent events to reminiscing over old photo albums to eating together at the dinner table, it had been nothing short of a joyous time for Raindrops.  It was her one opportunity to be blissfully free from the worries and inhibitions of “the real world” and simply enjoy herself, as if she were a little filly again. Tragically, all good things must come to an end, however, and Raindrops’ little vacation was definitely no exception.  Those few days were over all too quickly: Just ten minutes ago, she shared her last moment with her parents for the foreseeable future, and now she found herself alone and trudging along on her grueling journey back to Ponyville, feeling absolutely miserable.  The bittersweet smile she had forced onto her face had immediately fallen away as soon as she left, homesickness quickly and unwantedly filling the void within her.  Her legs felt like lead, and her lightly-packed saddlebags may as well have weighed a ton each.  Her hooves delicately sank into the plush cumulus street, but the gait with which they moved could only be described as something that seemed more befitting for a funeral.  But perhaps it was appropriate after all, as Raindrops felt that her death knell had just been sounded the moment she parted ways with her parents. One would not be wrong to say that Raindrops was utterly dreading going back to Ponyville.  Though Ponyville was where she lived—and, barring the occasional monster or magical disaster, it was a nice enough place, picturesque and full of friendly ponies—it was not home. Home was Cloudsdale, where she was born, where she grew up, where her parents lived.  The cumulus buildings and waterfalls of liquid rainbow were familiar and safe to her.  She had always loved the freedom that the vast expanse of the sky had to offer.  The countless memories she made here were beyond irreplaceable. It was where she belonged, and the past few days had only reinforced that belief. But Raindrops could not stay in Cloudsdale, regardless of how much her heart protested.  Ponyville was where she had to be.  It was where she worked, and it was where she had tried and failed to make a name for herself.  Her financial situation, though far from dire, could definitely be better.  She barely made ends meet as a lowly weathermare, her “dream job”.  She did not have any friends.  Even mere visits to see her parents in Cloudsdale were few and far between. Above all, she was lonely. Raindrops so desperately wanted to escape Ponyville, but any opportunities to do so remained elusive.  To her, living there was like being trapped at the bottom of a well: No matter what she did, she could not find a way to claw herself out, and the longer she stayed, the more she felt like she was drowning.  Ponyville was a dead end, yet she had no choice but to shepherd herself back into her little corner there. On and on Raindrops went, one small, slow step after the other, inching her closer to her unwanted destination.  The more rational part of her told her to just get in the air and start flying, arguing that a short walk to the city limits would hardly prolong her remaining time in Cloudsdale.  However, the more empathetic part told her to just keep walking to stay in Cloudsdale, if only for a little bit longer, because who knew when would be the next time she could return home? The conflict within her would matter little, however.  Raindrops had maintained her pace for less than half an hour, and before she knew it she had already reached the edge of the city.  In spite of her glum disposition, however, Raindrops did manage to form a small smile at what would probably be the sole highlight of her return trip to Ponyville. She stood on the precipice of the City of Clouds, and the great expanse of Equestria opened up before her eyes.  Green forests and snaking rivers stretched from horizon to horizon.  A flurry of snowcapped mountains dotted the landscape.  Against a backdrop of perfectly cloudless sky, the Sun cast its motherly embrace over the land below.  Squinting a bit, Raindrops could make out Canterlot, the crown jewel of Equestria, sitting on its mountainside perch as it shone in the distance, its majestic white-gold spires standing out against the baby blue sky.  This view beyond the clouds could only be described as breathtaking.  It was a sight that never failed to leave Raindrops looking on in awe. In the shadow of the capital, though, lay her destination.  Pointedly ignoring the looming darkness of the bordering Everfree Forest, the quaint, rustic town of Ponyville dozed lazily amongst the hectares of tilled farmland that stretched all around it.  Raindrops wilted a little.  That is where she had to go.  That is where she had to stay. Raindrops mournfully took in the panorama for a few moments longer, as if trying to commit it to memory, but she soon sighed in resignation as her posture slumped.  Loathe as she was to admit it, there was no use in sticking around any longer.  She mentally prepared herself to say her farewells to her beloved hometown. Raindrops reluctantly unfurled her wings and crouched down into a pre-flight stance.  Here I go, she thought morosely.  Goodbye, Cloudsdale… She was just about ready to take off when something caught her eye from the corner of her vision. Or rather, somepony. It was a young pegasus mare with a light turquoise coat, a distinctive, sweptback, golden mane, and a bolt of lightning and a trio of stars adorning her flank. Lightning Dust?! Raindrops nearly choked on her breath.  She rubbed at her cyan eyes to make sure that she had not been imagining things, but there was no mistaking it—that was indeed Lightning Dust. Raindrops had not seen Lightning Dust since the infamous tornado incident back at the Wonderbolt Academy months ago.  She and everypony else knew that Lightning got herself expelled for that little stunt, but after she left there had been absolutely no word of her whereabouts or what she was doing.  In fact, Lightning was largely forgotten soon after, and nopony expected to ever come across her again.  It was purely coincidental that Raindrops had managed to spot her at this instant. What is she up to? Raindrops wondered quizzically, unconsciously canceling her flight as she stood back up and turned to watch the mare. At present, Lightning Dust was not doing much at all.  She was alone, sitting on her haunches on a bench not too far away from Raindrops, her gamboge eyes locked onto some unknown point in the distance.  She was apparently just enjoying the scenery much like Raindrops had been doing not two minutes ago.  Looking a bit more closely, however, Raindrops could tell that Lightning appeared to be deep in thought, her mind not quite seeing what her eyes were seeing. Raindrops was somewhat perplexed, quite frankly.  From their short time together at the Academy, she had gotten the impression that the other mare was always one for high speed, high risk, and high reward.  She lived for danger.  She was always on the move, refusing to slow down even for safety’s sake. Reckless. But she had never remembered Lightning Dust looking so sedate.  Raindrops had not believed it possible, yet there she was, sitting down and sitting still.  Honestly, it looked downright peculiar to see her like this, borderline catatonic.  What was going on?  What happened? Raindrops pondered it some more, drudging up the sparse memories of the pegasus from the Academy.  Back then, Lightning had constantly boasted and showboated to the point of obnoxiousness, deliberately making her presence known during the short time that she had been enrolled.  Everypony got to know her that way, and everypony either grew annoyed with her or simply paid her no attention.  However, Raindrops also remembered that she was unusually reserved off the training field, as well—much like herself.  She socialized surprisingly little and had mainly kept to herself in the barracks, mess hall, and other common areas.  On top of that, she preferred to spend her free time practicing and exercising alone instead of hanging out with the other cadets. In short, Lightning Dust had been a lone wolf. And in that regard, the two of them were more alike than Raindrops had realized.  It was ironic, and that made Lightning even more of an enigma.  Raindrops did not know what to make of this epiphany, except that it reaffirmed the fact that there really was little she knew for sure about the pegasus. She had to rectify that. Raindrops smiled determinedly.  Ponyville could wait.  She needed to talk to Lightning Dust. And I know just how to make this work. Another moment of deliberating allowed Raindrops to finalize her strategy.  It was foolproof, and she would be talking to Lightning Dust, no problem!  Perhaps they would find some sort of common ground.  Raindrops did not want to get her hopes up, but there was even the chance that she would make a friend out of her, as well! Or maybe Lightning would just call her a weirdo and fly away. At least I tried, in that case, Raindrops deadpanned sardonically to herself. Shaking such pessimistic thoughts away, Raindrops hurriedly glanced to make sure that Lightning had not moved.  Lo and behold, she was still sitting on that bench in the exact same position she had been in when Raindrops last checked a minute ago, as was the case the last half dozen times she checked. Raindrops sighed.  It had already been ten minutes with no progress whatsoever.  Truth be told, she felt rather pathetic for being so anxious to even approach the mare, let alone talk to her.  But socializing was not something that Raindrops had ever particularly enjoyed or excelled at.  Actually being the one to initiate the conversation for once was even worse for her. At any rate, deep down she knew that she had to be brave and just do it. All right, Raindrops!  It’s now or never! Ignoring the hurricane of butterflies in her tummy, Raindrops steeled herself, took a deep breath, and summoned forth the biggest, friendliest smile she was capable of before trotting up to her target and standing close to her side. “Hi, Lightning Dust!” she greeted brightly.  “Long time no see!” The mare in question jumped a bit, apparently not having expected a random pony to just come up and derail her train of thought so abruptly.  Upon seeing this, Raindrops mentally berated herself for not being more subtle with her introduction.  She hoped that she did not just ruin her chance. To her credit, Lightning Dust recovered quickly, awareness of her surroundings coming back to her.  Her attention was instantly drawn to the strange mare grinning rather creepily at her.  How had she recognized her?  She eyed her warily.  “…Do I know you?” Raindrops’ smile weakened a bit, though in fairness she had anticipated this.  “…You don’t remember me?  We went to the Wonderbolt Academy together.” “The Academy?”  Lightning scowled darkly at its mention.  She examined Raindrops more meticulously now, taking into account her colors, facial features, and cutie mark.  She looked her in the eye, her face tense.  “Yeah…  You do look kinda familiar.” Her smile completely gone by now, Raindrops inwardly whimpered upon seeing Lightning’s hostility, praying that she would make it out of this situation in one piece.  In retrospect, perhaps reminding her of the Academy was not the best idea; of course Lightning Dust would get upset over it! Lightning continued muttering.  “I think…  I think I do remember you.  You were that one stallion’s wingpony, right?” Raindrops, starting to visibly tremble, nodded.  “Yeah.  I was Thunderlane’s wingpony.” Lightning hummed to herself.  “Ah, so that makes you…  Ugh, what was your name?  Showerhead Teardrops or something? Raindrops averted her gaze and pawed at the clouds.  “My name’s Sunshower Raindrops, actually,” she mumbled quietly.  “And just Raindrops is fine.” “Eh, close enough,” Lightning said dismissively, seemingly relaxing a bit.  “So whaddaya want?” Raindrops snapped to attention.  This was it.  This was the crux of the operation right here.  Sure, it had a few speedbumps simply getting to this point, but hopefully it would be smooth sailing from now on.  It was time to set the next phase of the plan into motion.  The execution had to be just perfect. Easily putting another, though mindfully gentler, smile on her face, Raindrops stated in a sure, strong voice: “I was thinking that we could have some coffee together, and we could get to know each other better.  What do you say?” Nailed it. Lightning Dust stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted a horn on her forehead.  “What.” Okay, maybe not… Raindrops found her confidence rapidly diminishing by the second as she saw her plan crumbling away into dust.  She frantically tried to salvage what she could.  “I mean, do you want to have a c-coffee with me?  I was hoping we could t-talk…”  Though she was stuttering, Raindrops managed an uneasy, timorous smile.  “It’ll be fun…” It sounded like Raindrops was trying to convince herself more than Lightning. Meanwhile, the bewildered look that Lightning Dust gave her was almost enough to send her scurrying away with her tail between her legs.  That scrutinizing gaze bored into her, and Raindrops nervously shuffled her hooves as she began to seriously regret even approaching the mare in the first place. At length, Lightning said flatly, “…You asking me out on a date or something?  I’m flattered, but sorry to break it to ya: I don’t swing that way.”  She flashed what appeared to be an attempt at a reassuring smile.  “I’m sure there are plenty of other mares you could ask, though.” The blush that dominated Raindrops’ downy cheeks was nothing short of radiant.  No, her whole face was practically glowing, threatening to outshine even Celestia’s Sun.  This was not what she had expected to happen!  By Tartarus, she would have preferred being outright rejected than having her intentions misunderstood like this; she had at least seen that coming!  Raindrops then realized a few seconds later that she had been simply standing there, all flustered and speechless and as fiercely red as a tomato, right in front of a now-puzzled Lightning Dust.  Her brain, panicking and struggling to reboot itself, worked overtime trying to formulate some sort of response, but what could she possibly say to save herself from this disaster? “I… I… I’m… I’m… n-not a… f-f-fillyf-fooler…” It was a miracle that Raindrops did not burst into tears from sheer embarrassment at that moment. Lightning furrowed her brow and cocked her head to the side, clearly confused.  “…Oh.  Okay.  Um…  Then why are you trying to ask me out on a date?  Is this a prank or a dare or something?  If it is, it’s kinda lame if you ask me.” To say Raindrops felt mortified would be a gross understatement.  Nothing was going right at all!  Everything was backfiring on her!  The poor mare looked like she was about to collapse.  Her chest felt tight, and she swore that she was on the verge of hyperventilating.  She so urgently wished that she could just run or fly away and pretend that none of this ever happened, but she was completely paralyzed, her hooves rooted in place and her wings glued to her sides.  It would have been an immense reprieve if the world would do her a favor and swallow her up, but the pitiless cloud floor did not even have the courtesy to open up and save her from further humiliation.  Sweating profusely, Raindrops forced herself to suck in great, ragged breaths in a mostly futile attempt to calm her frayed nerves.  Against all odds, she managed to stammer out, “I-I just w-want to… t-t-talk… to y-you…” Lightning blinked.  “So… it’s not a date, then?” Raindrops squeezed her eyes shut and stiffly shook her head, almost imperceptibly, from side to side. “Huh.  You’re just… trying to be friendly, I’m guessing?” Raindrops nodded her head meekly, trying her hardest not to cry. “…” “…” “Hey.” Raindrops’ eyes shot wide open when she felt a comforting hoof on her shoulder.  She saw that Lightning Dust’s previously cold and aloof demeanor was noticeably warmer, albeit a little sheepish, as well.  She looked guilty. “I… didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.  Um…  Sorry.  Don’t cry or beat yourself up over this, okay?”  Although it was obvious that Lightning was rather unused to playing the apologetic angle, she tried smiling again, more genuine and placating this time.  “What do you say we start over?  I’ll say ‘no’ to the coffee ’cause I don’t drink the stuff, but we can still talk if you want.  Sound good to you?” Stunned, Raindrops did not immediately respond, just looking back with those big, watery eyes of hers.  Finally feeling her brain catch up with the situation, however, she eventually gave a tiny nod of agreement. “Cool.”  Lightning clapped Raindrops good-naturedly on the shoulder once before pulling her hoof away.  She scooted over to make some room on the bench for Raindrops.  “Have a seat.” Raindrops said nothing, keeping her expression blank.  She took her place on the bench almost mechanically, setting her saddlebags down.  Despite her outward robotic appearance, however, on the inside she was simultaneously sobbing in relief and cheering herself on. Horrendously rocky as it may have been, she had successfully overcome the first hurdle. At this moment in time, the little cloud bench found itself accommodating a grand total of two occupants.  Whereas one of them remained stoic and laid-back, the other fretfully fidgeted in place.  However, the two had not exchanged another word in over ten minutes. It seemed that Raindrops had yet to fully recuperate from her earlier ordeal.  She personally considered it phenomenal that she had not fainted thus far.  Furthermore, she had opted to avert eye contact with the pony beside her.  Conversely, Lightning no longer seemed all that keen on being forced to share her bench with a stranger. It was awkward, to say the least. On edge as she was, Raindrops almost had a heart attack when the silence was broken at long last. “Sooo… Raindrops, was it?” Lightning drawled nonchalantly.  “Do you want to talk or what?” Pulse furiously racing, Raindrops just barely reestablished her grip on reality.  “W-What?” “You wanted to talk, right?  You know, the ‘get-to-know-each-other-better’ part of this thing.” Apparently, Raindrops could have used some coffee after all, since her caffeine-deficient brain did not quite process that last line of dialogue. Lightning shrugged.  “Hey, it’s your idea, not mine.  If you don’t want to talk, then I’ll just go.” Raindrops blinked and shook her head in panic.  “N-No, no! I still want to talk to you!” The other mare raised an eyebrow expectantly.  “Well, go on, then.” Raindrops bit her lip.  Unfortunately, her mind drew a blank, yet again.  Say something!  This was your idea, after all!  She cursed herself for not thinking this far ahead.  She grit her teeth, feverishly mashing together her brain cells to try and get them to cooperate, before she blurted out the first thing that popped up in her head. “I really like your mane!”  Raindrops wanted to slap herself silly for that.  Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid…! At first, Lightning just stared, unsure of how to respond.  What an odd way to break the ice.  She patted her mane to make sure that nothing was amiss.  Finding nothing wrong, at length she said cautiously, “Uh, thanks.  I style it every morning.” Roll with it, Raindrops!  “E-Every morning?” “Yeah…”  Lightning’s eyes narrowed.  “Why, is that surprising or something?” Um… “Lemme guess: You think I’m not the kind of mare to care about her appearance, right?” Um um um…!  “N-No…?” Lightning briefly scrutinized Raindrops’ pale, sweaty face but simply shrugged after a moment.  “Eh, whatever.  I know I’m not the girliest mare out there—and don’t get me wrong, I sure as hay wouldn’t ever be all frou-frou and wear tons of makeup and frilly dresses—but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to take a little time to make sure I look nice.  After all, a girl’s gotta work to get a mane as awesome as this.”  Lightning eyed Raindrops’ comparatively plain mane.  “I could show you how I do it, give you some tips for your own mane.” “Um…  Maybe another time?” “Suit yourself.” The awkward silence returned.  It had been one scant minute, and just like that, the conversation had already sputtered out.  At the very least, it had not been such a bad start, right? “Um…”  Raindrops scrambled to find something else to say.  “…S-So you don’t drink c-coffee?” “No.  Never liked the taste.” “Y-Yeah, I understand.  I d-don’t really drink coffee, either, since I personally can’t stand anything b-bitter.  But if I do have to have some, I put lots of c-cream and sugar in m-mine.” “You have trouble staying awake or something?” asked Lightning. Raindrops’ cheeks reddened.  “S-Sometimes…” “How come?” Raindrops mumbled, “I d-don’t like getting up e-early.” Lightning shrugged.  “Eh, it’s not so bad.  You get used to it after a while.” “B-But… how do you stay awake without coffee?” “Go to sleep early, eat breakfast, light exercises, et cetera.” “Oh…  I sh-should try that.” The silence descended upon the two pegasi again like a fog, seemingly thicker and more oppressive this time around. Lightning did not seem to mind the silence so much, but Raindrops was the complete opposite.  As the minutes passed without another word, she only grew more anxious.  This was not what she wanted to happen at all.  She switched tactics.  Perhaps she should play it safe from this point on?  “Um…  Wonderful w-weather we’re having.” Lightning’s previously neutral face adopted an expression that had “Are you serious?” written all over it.  Was it really going to be that kind of conversation now?  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she eventually said, “It’s all right.” “C-Cloudsdale always gets the b-best weather.” “Uh-huh.” “I m-mean, I guess it m-makes sense, because of the Weather F-Factory and all…” “…” “Th-This view is really n-nice, too.” “It is,” agreed Lightning. “…” “…”   Raindrops tried something else.  “Uh…  Do you have any hobbies?” “Flying,” said Lightning matter-of-factly. “…Anything else?” “…Flying fast.” “…I g-guess I like flying, too.  I’m not as fast as you, obviously, b-but I still enjoy it.  I-I’m not that good with stunts or fancy tricks, though,” admitted Raindrops somewhat self-consciously. “Practice some more, then.” “I know…” “…” “…I also like r-reading and watching c-cartoons.” “…” “…D-Do you like to r-read?” asked Raindrops tentatively. “…No.” “…H-How about c-cartoons?” “I don’t have a TV.” “Oh.” “…” “…Any favorite foods?”  It was woefully obvious that Raindrops was really running out of topics to talk about. Lightning thought about it.  “…Ice cream.” Raindrops brightened.  “Ooh, w-what’s your favorite flavor?  M-Mine’s strawberry.” “Strawberry?”  Lightning wrinkled her nose.  “Blech, I can’t stand strawberry.  I love chocolate, though.” Raindrops mumbled lamely, “I like chocolate, too…” “…” “Er…  W-What’s your favorite c-color?” Lightning inwardly groaned.  “…Yellow.” “Oh, that’s cool.  Yellow is a nice color.”  The words left Raindrops’ mouth before she remembered what color she was.  She looked very sheepish all of a sudden, worried that she sounded overly vain just then.  “I… I mean, th-that’s not to say that yellow is the only nice color or anything…  Green is nice, too!  Er, I mean blue!  Um…  Greenish-blue?” Lightning’s only response was an unamused frown. “…I’ll stop now.” “…” “…My f-favorite color’s p-purple, by the way.” Yet another agonizingly palpable moment of silence, even more unwelcome than ever.  Raindrops ruffled her feathers in agitation, shiftily darting her eyes towards the pony beside her.  Meanwhile, Lightning steadfastly kept her eyes forward on the view in front of them.  This whole thing was a mess, Raindrops would be hopelessly naïve to deny otherwise, but she was not quite ready to call it quits. Raindrops tried again.  “Are you—” However, Lightning suddenly let loose an exasperated groan that cut off whatever Raindrops was going to say.  “All right, that’s it.  This whole ‘conversation’ is going nowhere at all.  What the hay do you really want?  ’Cause I don’t think you’d go through all this effort just to make some stupid small-talk with me.”  She gesticulated wildly.  “I mean, you almost passed out earlier trying to introduce yourself!  You’d think that you’d just quit and run away after that, but no, you decide to stick with me anyway, even though you’ve clearly been uncomfortable the entire time!  I just don’t get it.  What’s your deal?” Raindrops gaped at her, her frame quivering.  She had not expected Lightning to just blow up in frustration like that.  She sat there dumbfounded, not knowing what to make of this development. “Well?” Lightning barked impatiently. Raindrops looked away, shamefaced.  Tears welling up in her downcast eyes, she mumbled softly, “I… I just w-wanted to know y-you b-better…” Lightning carefully weighed her words.  “…Why?” “I…  W-Well… it’s just…  Back at the A-Academy—“ Raindrops froze upon noticing Lightning’s mood darkening. “Oh, so it’s about the Academy, huh?” And Raindrops knew that she had just made a grievous mistake.  “N-No, I—” “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!”  Lightning jabbed an accusatory hoof into Raindrops’ chest, making her flinch.  “You just want to see what happened to the biggest disgrace the Wonderbolts have ever seen, do ya?  Well, fine!  Here you bucking go!”  She gestured roughly at herself.  “Take a good, hard look, ’cause this is what a failure looks like!” “Lightning, I—” “That not enough for ya?  Go ahead, do your worst!  Call me names, rub it in my face or something!  Doesn’t matter!  I was already humiliated in front of everypony at the Academy!  I already blew what was only the biggest opportunity of my feathering life!  Anything you do is just icing on the cake!” Lightning yelled, only getting more livid by the second, which made a petrified Raindrops cower even further into herself.  Her voice then lowered in volume but still retained that dangerous, razor-sharp edge.  She hissed, “But let me get this to you straight: I don’t bucking care.  It’s been months since I got kicked out, but I’m way past that.  I’ve moved on… so why the hay can’t you?” Raindrops squeaked, too terrified to even be upset anymore.  “I… I…” The glower Lightning sent Raindrops’ way could have drilled holes through her shaking body.  She growled venomously, “Leave.  Me.  Alone.” “But—” Pushed to her limit, Lightning screamed, “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!” Raindrops wisely kept her mouth shut. Meanwhile, Lightning panted heatedly in the aftermath of her volcanic rant, her words spent.  However, her fiery wrath soon burned out into nothing more than smoldering embers.  The mare’s posture sagged, and she looked more tired than anything else.  Finally looking away, she mumbled brokenly, “Just leave me alone…” Raindrops remained fearfully silent and unmoving, at first.  When Lightning made no further comment or action against her, she timidly lowered her guard and poked at the ashes.  “L-Lightning…?” No response. Raindrops did not know what to do.  After being the unlucky target of such an explosive outburst, she was painfully tempted to heed Lightning’s words and retreat.  After all, her attempt at befriending Lightning was a total failure.  The truth made her gut wrench, but perhaps she really had no other option but to just admit defeat and leave once and for all. Going directly against her instinct, however, for some reason Raindrops decided to go for one final gambit. “I don’t know if it makes you feel any better, but I didn’t make it into the Wonderbolts, either.”  After all that she went through, Raindrops sincerely did not know what compelled her to stay and keep talking.  It went directly against her rational mind screaming at her to abandon ship, but strangely at the moment she felt that she wanted—no, needed—to go against her better judgment. In the corner of her vision, though, Raindrops saw Lightning’s drooped ears twitch a little.  She had her attention!  Before Raindrops lost this precious opportunity, she continued talking, for better or for worse just letting her heart speak for itself.  “I’m not a super good flier like you, so I know I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.  But I thought I was doing so well…  Even though I was only a wingpony, I thought I was finally making a name for myself, for once doing something that I and other ponies could be proud of…” Her voice started to strain as she fought to recall those hurtful memories.  “But then, a few weeks after your tornado, Captain Spitfire called me to her office.  I didn’t know what to think.  Not making the cut had been the last thing on my mind…  But that’s exactly what happened.”  Raindrops let out a shuddering sigh and felt tears brimming in her eyes again.  “‘Mediocre’…  That’s what she called me.  The Wonderbolts want only the best of the best, and I was only mediocre…” Raindrops closed her eyes.  The memories, formerly entombed in the deepest recesses of her mind, were now so vivid, as if they had happened only yesterday, and slashed at her throat.  “I… I was devastated.  I really thought I could’ve been a Wonderbolt…  It would’ve meant the world to me, but I’m just… m-mediocre…” Raindrops opened her eyes to look at Lightning.  The mare had scarcely moved an inch since her tirade, but Raindrops knew that she was listening.  “That was months ago, but it still hurts to think about it.  And since then, I’ve had no ch-choice but to go back to living the same p-pathetic life I tried to escape f-from…”  Her wavering voice was no louder than a whisper.  “So believe me when I say I know how much it h-hurts to fall sh-short…” The air became still again, this time punctuated by the sound of Raindrops’ sniffling.  Raindrops waited for a response, and she withered even more when Lightning did not oblige. She knew that she had failed to get through to Lightning, and she was out of options. There was nothing more that she could do. Her time in Cloudsdale was over.  She had to go. She knew that the moment she was back safe in her tiny, lonely cottage in Ponyville, she would just hop into bed, curl up under the covers, and cry.  She had been a fool to hope that she would find even a little companionship in Lightning Dust.  But it seemed that she was simply cursed—or destined—to be alone.  Beyond dejected, Raindrops finally moved to get up and leave, even though she was dimly unsure if her wobbling legs and frail wings could support the weight of her emotional baggage. Raindrops was halfway through buckling her saddlebags in place when, in her despair, she almost missed Lightning call out, “Wait.” Raindrops reluctantly looked back with sad, red-rimmed eyes. Lightning said quietly, “What you said…  Is it true?” Raindrops listlessly nodded her head. Lightning weakly gave a harsh, bitter chuckle, startling Raindrops.  “I guess… we’re both just a couple of washed-up losers, huh?  Just two good-for-nothing rejects.  Might as well sort mail for a living, or something.” Though still upset, Raindrops frowned slightly in mild offense, but it seemed that Lightning either did not notice or simply did not care. Lightning’s acerbic mirth vanished as quickly as it appeared.  “Did it… get any better?” she asked solemnly. “…What do you mean?” Raindrops managed to croak out. Lightning exhaled.  “After… After you got ki—flunked out of the Academy, did… did your life get any better?  Did you move on?  Find something else to do and just… forget the whole thing ever happened?” Raindrops averted her eyes, if only so that Lightning would not see the pity they held. So that’s what she’s getting at…  Lightning hasn’t moved on at all. Her quiet voice took on a note of sympathy.  “…I’d be lying if I said yes.  I’ve gone back to my old job and life… but anything I’ve done since is n-nothing compared to shooting for the Wonderbolts.”  Raindrops whimpered.  She slowly sat back down, shrugging off her saddlebags once more.  “…It’s beyond humiliating to see the cadets that did make it through, though, and p-pretend that nothing’s wrong, that I’m not jealous, or trying to figure out what I did wrong, or w-wondering what it’d be like to be one of them…”  She sighed yearningly.  “It’s just… awful to hear everypony else getting closer and closer to achieving their dreams, when I’m the only one left behind in the d-dirt…” And neither have I… “No,  you’re not the only one…” Raindrops flicked her eyes towards Lightning, a spark of curiosity shining faintly through her melancholy shroud. “I get ya.  I really do.”  Lightning was staring straight ahead, but her eyes were distant.  She continued speaking, though seemingly more to herself than the pony beside her.  “I gave up everything for the chance to be a Wonderbolt—to be the best.  Getting into the Academy was the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me… and I b-blew it.  Now, I have n-nothing, and it’s all because of one dumb mistake.”  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “I keep telling myself that what’s done is done, that everything’ll get better eventually… but I’m still waiting.” “…How do you cope with it?” Raindrops asked softly. “Cope with it?”  Lightning opened her eyes and sadly shook her head.  “To say I ‘cope’ with it would be generous.” Raindrops motioned for her to explain. “The first few weeks after I got kicked out was… a blur, just a lot of screaming and crying myself to sleep, like I couldn’t even believe what was happening, my worst nightmares come true…  At first, I blamed it all on Rainbow Dash or Spitfire or even those civilians that just showed up in our airspace—anypony but me, really.  I wanted so badly to think that it was all a mistake, that it wasn’t me who messed up, that there was even the tiniest chance for me to get back into the Academy, somehow…”  Lightning sighed again.  “But looking back, I can only see that it was all my fault.  Rainbow Dash was right—everything I did, I was only setting myself up to crash and burn.  I only have myself to blame.  No wonder I was dishonorably discharged…  I don’t… I don’t deserve to be a Wonderbolt…” There was a brief lull in the air as Lightning finally paused in weariness.  The truth hurts—confiding it in a stranger, even more so.  Raindrops knew this, having done the exact same thing mere moments ago.  She felt a powerful urge to reach out and comfort Lightning, but she never got the chance. Lightning was not quite done yet.  She only continued speaking, despite the obvious difficulty in forcing the words out of her.  “I… I’ll never be a Wonderbolt.  Once I realized that, I just felt… lost.  I failed.  I didn’t know what to do after that.  I still don’t.  And I don’t know if I even want to do anything anymore.  It all just seems so pointless.”  She shivered, though Raindrops doubted it was because of the cool air.  “Why should I bother doing anything anymore?” “You don’t do… anything?” Raindrops asked. Lightning lowered her head.  “Not much, no.  Sitting on this bench here is just about the most exciting thing I do now.” “Why?” “Heh, didn’t think anypony would be so fascinated about a mare sitting on a bench.  You sure you don’t want to take me out on a date?” Lightning teased.  She smirked upon noticing Raindrops’ flushed cheeks, though the playful attitude did not last long.  “…It’s ’cause I want to think.” As Lightning grew serious again, Raindrops roughly regained her composure.  “Th-Think?” Lightning nodded.  “About… things.  Memories, the future, what could’ve been, where it all went wrong…  Same old, same old.”  She sighed and glanced at Raindrops.  “Although you’re the first pony to ever come up and actually talk to me, even though I sit here for pretty much the whole day.” “What about your job?” “Job?  I don’t have a job,” Lightning confessed abashedly.  “Not anymore.  Gave that up to become a Wonderbolt.  And we all know how well that turned out…” “But… how do you make a living?” “I don’t.” Raindrops stared incredulously, unsure if she heard that correctly. Lightning clarified, “It’s all right; I have a few bits saved up for food and to pay rent for a cheap apartment close by.” Raindrops spluttered, “Y-You’ll run out of money!” “I… I still have a few months.” “You need to find a job!” Lightning drooped.  “I… I know.  But I just… don’t want to.  Besides, who would want to hire a disgraced Academy reject, anyway?” “You have to do something!” “But… I don’t.  I don’t do anything…” “Hobbies!” Raindrops blurted out.  “You said you like flying fast!  Don’t you still do that?” Lightning wilted further in genuine remorse.  “No…  Why should I?” she lamented.  “I’m not… I’m not gonna be a Wonderbolt, so w-what’s the point?” Raindrops was panicking at this point, seriously worried for Lightning’s well-being.  No job, almost no money, not even flying or training interests her anymore! “What about your family?” Raindrops cried, desperate to hear something—anything—that Lightning could still cling on to. Lightning froze.  “My family?” Raindrops nodded vigorously.  “Yeah!  Don’t you have any family you could go back to?  Your parents must be worr—” “I hate my parents,” Lightning cut her off, grounding out in a voice so frigid that it belied her reignited fury.  “I never want to see them again.” Raindrops was horrified.  How could anypony hate their own parents?  Such a thing was unimaginable to her.  She herself dearly loved her Mommy and Daddy—after all, they were the ones who brought her into the world, unconditionally took care of her no matter what happened, stood by her when she had nopony else to turn to…  They were her heroes, and she could never hate them. “B-B-But—” “If you’re gonna start preaching about how I should ‘make up with them’, then I don’t want to hear it,” spat Lightning poisonously.  “There’s no way in Tartarus that I’d ever want to see their bucking faces again, end of story.” Convincing Lightning otherwise was clearly futile.  Left with no other choice, Raindrops reluctantly decided to just drop the issue.  “Well… w-what about your friends?” Lightning sighed miserably, her caustic ire evaporating away in an instant.  “I don’t have friends.” The words rang hollowly through Raindrops’ being.  She found them all too familiar—that was the common ground that she had initially sought from Lightning. But that was neither here nor there.  There was something far more important at stake now. Grasping at straws, Raindrops pleaded, “Isn’t there somepony you can go back to, Lightning?” “No…”  “N-Nopony at a-all…?” Lightning wanted to deny it but instinctively stopped herself.  “Well…” she mumbled uncertainly after a moment’s thought. And that was the light shining in the darkness.  Raindrops pounced at it before it could wink out.  “Who?” “…My sister.  But… it’s been y-years since I last saw her,” Lightning said heavily.  Raindrops could not tell whether it was longing or regret she heard in Lightning’s voice—probably both.  “I miss her…” “Then go to her,” Raindrops insisted softly. “I… I don’t know…” Lightning mumbled. “Don’t you want to?” “…More than you realize.” “Then what’s wrong?” Lightning struggled to find her words.  “I… haven’t seen her in so long.  Could I really just… show my face to her after all these years?  How do I know she won’t reject me?  …Would she forgive me?” Raindrops found the notion hard to believe.  “Why would your sister not forgive you?” “Creator above, I hope I’m wrong,” Lightning murmured.  “But I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t.” “I don’t understand.” The thought of the truth being laid bare made Lightning Dust hesitate for the briefest instant, but something told her to let it come to pass.  “…I ran away.” Raindrops only became more confused.  “Ran away… from what?” “From home.” Raindrops recoiled.  “You what?!” Lightning squeezed her eyes shut in excruciating reminiscence.  “I ran away from home, from my family.  When I said I gave up everything to become a Wonderbolt, I meant everything.” “Why?!” “It’s ’cause I didn’t have a future back home, all right!” Lightning abruptly snapped in irritation.  She instantly reined in her temper upon seeing Raindrops flinch.  She bit her lip, partly out of guilt, and softened her voice.  “I had to run away.  I was only a teenager then: young, excited, stupid—well, stupider—but I wanted to be a Wonderbolt more than anything else.  It’d been my dream since I was just a little filly, and I focused all my time on training to join their ranks one day.  But at home… There was nothing for me at home, let alone the Wonderbolts.  And even though it meant dropping out of school and having almost no money to live on my own, I told myself I couldn’t stay, no matter how much of a dumb idea it was.” Raindrops kept quiet, simply allowing Lightning to give exposition of her own volition. “My parents couldn’t care less, of course,” Lightning sneered.  “They never cared about me, only my sister.  Since she was older, that meant she was groomed to be the mare of the family, inherit the family name and all those horseapples.  Didn’t help that she was also smarter, prettier, a goody four-shoes… the list goes on.  So they never bothered with me.  She was ‘perfect’.  I was… worthless.  The runt.  The sideshow freak.”  She scoffed.  “Who would give a flying feather about stupid, little, pathetic Lightning Dust?  So when enough was enough, I left and never looked back.” Raindrops was aghast.  How could Lightning Dust talk about herself so depreciatingly?  For that matter, how could anypony say that she was worthless or a runt?  Not only was it cruel, but it was completely asinine and nonsensical: “But you’re such an amazing flier, one of the best I’ve ever seen!  Your parents wouldn’t be proud of you for that?” Lightning snorted derisively.  “Yeah, right.  They hated how much time I spent on flying and practicing stunts; a waste of time, they called it.  Hay, they never even sent me to flight school, like every other pegasus foal.  I had to practically teach myself everything I know.  And then I got the ‘wrong’ cutie mark…  There’s just no way they would’ve even let me try for the Wonderbolts.”  She then grimaced and muttered under her breath, “Though maybe I should’ve listened to them, considering where I am now.  Bet they’re laughing at me…” “Well, couldn’t your parents—?”  Raindrops winced upon seeing Lightning’s deadpan expression.  She could tell that it would be fruitless to continue this line of questioning.  “R-Right.  Sorry.  I’ll stop asking about them.” Still, she could not fathom how one’s parents could be so indifferent towards their own child; Raindrops’ own parents had been nothing but supportive throughout her whole life. “Um…  And your sister?  What about her?”  Raindrops felt very worried all of a sudden, as a troubling thought invaded her conscience.  “Your sister doesn’t… h-hate you… does she?” To her shock, Lightning unexpectedly and uncharacteristically looked very scared.  “W-What?!  No!” she exclaimed.  “No no no!  Why would you think that?!  My sister was a lot of things, but she would never hate me!  She loved me!  And I loved her, too!” Raindrops shrank back against the force of her outrage, but she was secretly thankful that there was at least one joyful facet to Lightning’s startlingly pitiful life.  “Sorry,” she squeaked out.  “I didn’t know…” Lightning fought to quell her raging emotions.  “No, you didn’t.  Just… don’t ever say anything like that again, okay?  Goddesses above, the idea seriously scared me…” Raindrops felt ashamed but relieved at the same time.  It was a bizarre combination, to be sure. Lightning sighed, now a bit wistful.  “My sister meant the world to me, you know?  I owe her everything.  She really made my childhood… bearable.  It wasn’t fun growing up, but I still had lots of awesome memories, and they were all because of my older sister.  Even though she was often really busy, she always did try to make a little time for her baby sister.  She was… the best.”  She smiled fondly, nostalgically, and Raindrops could not resist smiling, either.  Fragments of a time long since passed flitted through Lightning’s mind, painting a grainy picture of two little fillies, all wide grins, giggling and shrieking as they played with each other.  Lightning chuckled at such carefree innocence.  “I mean, sure, we didn’t always get along—just like any other pair of siblings—and we didn’t exactly share a lot of the same likes or interests, but we would’ve stuck with each other ’til the end.” Lightning’s smile vanished, and her whole expression sunk as the two fillies faded away, forever condemned to the graveyards of the past. “At least, that was before I ran away,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.  “No matter how many times I tell myself that it was for the best, I can’t help but think that I… betrayed my sister.” “Betrayed?” “…I ran away from her, when I know she wouldn’t have done the same thing to me if we had swapped places.” “Oh.” Lightning could barely keep her voice steady.  “We loved each other.  She gave me so much, and I repaid her by disappearing from her life.  I don’t know if she could forgive me for that…” She turned her head to look at Raindrops, appearing despondent, almost heartbroken.  “You know, maybe you’re right.  Maybe she would h-hate me, after all…” “What?!”  Raindrops’ eyes bulged in horror, fearing that Lightning’s last remaining lifeline, the frayed thread that it was, was now dangerously close to snapping apart completely.  “No!  Don’t think that!”  She frenziedly waved her hooves as her mind raced to find ways to remedy the situation.  “I didn’t mean what I said earlier!  Your sister wouldn’t hate you!” “And how would you know?” Lightning asked dismally. Raindrops hesitated, not quite sure what to say.  “Um…  Well, I guess I can’t say for certain.  I mean, I’m an only child, you see…” she admitted shamefully, idly rubbing one foreleg.  Before she eviscerated the last of Lightning’s tattered hopes, she quickly added, “B-But I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have a sibling, and I’m honestly jealous that you grew up with such an awesome sister.  You told me she never hated you before, and I sincerely doubt she’d hate you now.  From what I can tell, your sister is a good pony—” “She is,” Lightning readily agreed. “—so I think if she truly loved you, she would also be able to forgive you.” Lightning bit her lip.  “I don’t know…  I mean, I’d love to see her again, but… it’s been so long.  It… It can’t be that easy…” “Maybe not,” Raindrops conceded after some thought.  “But you’ll never know if you don’t go back to her.” Lightning said nothing, offering no rebuttal. Raindrops smiled.  Checkmate.  She prompted gently, “Go to her, Lightning.  You need to do this.  Promise me you’ll see your sister.” “I… I don’t like making promises, not when they’re so easily broken…” she mumbled.  For some reason, Lightning resolutely avoided eye contact and bit the inside of her cheek, apparently hesitating to proceed.  Raindrops was on the edge of her seat as she awaited her answer.  What Lightning says next could very well define the turning point of her life, a chance for her to begin again in spite of all of her doubts and hardships… yet she would not say anything, letting the silence stretch to infinity.  It was maddening.  Raindrops was all but ready to drop to her knees and beg Lightning to say something when she finally responded: “…Can I ask you something first?” Raindrops blinked.  After all that anxious waiting, she did not expect to be answered with a question, of all things.  Part of her knew that this would divert her attention away from the current subject matter, but she could not help but feel a bit concerned nonetheless.  She took the bait.  “…What is it?” If Lightning heard the slight apprehension in her voice, she did not make any immediate sign to acknowledge it, looking all pensive and serious.  Eventually, Lightning seemed to have worked up the nerve to go on with her original question, and she turned to face Raindrops to ask with honest curiosity: “What’s your ultimate goal in life?” Raindrops blinked again.  That was a big question, rather out of the blue.  “Um, what do you mean?” Lightning closed her eyes, thinking of how to rephrase her query.  Another moment of silence passed.  When she opened her eyes, there was a distinctive glint of… something in them.  Was that desperation Raindrops saw?  Lightning began speaking again, this time with a tone of weariness in her voice.  She sounded decades older than she really was.  “Like, what is it that you work or fight for?  Life… isn’t easy.  It’s not fair, either.  But ponies have found reasons to make it worthwhile.  I want to know what’s your reason, Raindrops.”  She looked away and mumbled quietly to herself, almost inaudibly, “’Cause then maybe I’ll figure out what my reason is.” Raindrops’ eyes widened.  So that was what Lightning was asking for.  Deep down, she knew that Lightning was looking for an answer from the very core of her being, an answer carved by every aspect of her individuality, by what made her who she was.  Lightning Dust sought salvation from her purgatory, and Raindrops held the key.  However, the unwanted words of a failure tumbled out of Raindrops’ mouth before she could stop them. “I don’t…  I don’t really know…” Lightning sighed, evidently disappointed, but resignedly gave a nod of acceptance before looking away.  “…I understand.  Really, I do.” Raindrops winced, looking at Lightning sadly.  She was more than a little ashamed at not being able to give a clear, immediate answer to her question.  She herself truly was not so sure.  For the longest time, she had avoided thinking about the subject.  She had been scared to know.  In the depths of her psyche, she had always believed that this line of thinking would only remind her of how little she had and how much she had failed in her life.  But now, the question was presented right in front of her, and she knew that she had no choice but to plunge into the icy waters and say something. So, with all of the disappointment in her life, just why would Raindrops persevere?  Why would she even bother?  She simply did not know.  Of course, she could always just remain silent, and undoubtedly Lightning would not press the issue anymore.  However, the fact of the matter was that Raindrops also wanted—no, needed—to know the answer. In the end, there was simply no point in running away any longer. Despite her reservations, Raindrops thought back to her life—her dull, lonely life as a boring, friendless, unflattering weathermare stuck in Ponyville, with no real ambitions, dreams, or interesting stories to tell of.  Raindrops quickly felt her heart aching, a familiar pain that had plagued her for Goddesses-know-how-long already.  It hurt, it really did hurt, to think of her life—of reality.  So many things missing…  So many things that she yearned for…  But what would be needed to help mend those gaping wounds in her soul? Having a friend or two to make her world feel a little less empty… Earning enough money so that she and her parents could live comfortably and never be so far apart… Settling down in Cloudsdale, where she truly belonged… Maybe even finding that special somepony to hold her close and remind her that she was loved, after all… Raindrops thought about it some more.  Those were goals, yes—only a few out of countless others—but were any of them the goal that Lightning wanted to know about?  Indeed, all of them were worthy goals, and any of those possibilities, farfetched as they may be, would certainly ameliorate the torturous stagnation that was Raindrops’ life.  But in the back of her mind, she knew that she was missing something from the equation, something so fundamental that there would be absolutely no substance, no meaning in achieving any of those goals as long as it remained absent in her life. And it was then that Raindrops knew. “Happiness.  That’s my goal.  I want to be happy.” Lightning Dust looked back at her and just stared uncomprehendingly.  Raindrops did not back down, unwaveringly returning her gaze, for she had never been so certain of something before in her life.  Lightning slightly tilted her head to the side, a wordless gesture for her to elaborate.  Knowing that she would never again muster the courage to express herself so truly, Raindrops sucked in a deep breath and tried to keep her voice as level as possible once she continued speaking. “It… It sounds stupid and cheesy, I know.  But for me, nothing else in my life will matter if I don’t end up being happy.  Life sucks.  You and I know that better than anypony else—it beat us down and told us that our dreams are impossible—but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy.  And I think that’s the whole point of it all.  It’s up to us to find something—anything—that will make us happy, and… and that’s why I keep going.  Even though it hurts, and even though sometimes I wish I could just curl up and let it all end…” Raindrops offered a wide-eyed Lightning a soft, shaky smile.  “I know someday I’ll find the one thing that will make me happy, and everything will be worth it.” Lightning continued staring.  She wanted to respond but could not find the words in her.  She turned away, her eyes becoming half-lidded as she sat there in silence to contemplate Raindrops’ words. Raindrops’ melancholy but determined expression fell away from her face after a half-minute with no response.  She felt confused and somewhat worried.  Had she made a mistake?  Was this some sort of test that Lightning had given her, and she had said the wrong answer?  Did she insult Lightning in some way without realizing it?  Quickly growing uncomfortable with the awkward hush that fell over them both, she was about to speak up, but she was thankfully beaten to it. “…Happiness, huh?”  Lightning’s voice was low, but it held no trace of hostility.  Raindrops secretly let out a sigh of relief.  “That’s your goal?” “…Yeah.  I… I want to be happy,” Raindrops repeated quietly. Lightning lowered her head and closed her eyes.  She murmured, “I think… I’d like that, too.” Raindrops’ eyes widened.  After all of that tense waiting, she had not expected Lightning to understand her, let alone agree with her.  “Wha…?” “I think that’s what it all boils down to, really…  That, regardless of cutie mark or ‘destiny’, everything ponies do is for that chance to find whatever makes them happy…  And you and I aren’t any different.”   Her voice dwindled into a mere whisper.  “But in the end, it’s like… no matter what I do, no matter how much I try, I only end up hurting myself.  I… I just…  More than anything…”  Lightning looked up, and there was nothing but fragility in her eyes.  “I wish… I could be… h-happy…” And the dam finally broke. Lightning wept.  Try as hard as she could to hold them back, the tears sprang unbidden to her eyes and coursed down her cheeks in thin rivulets.  Her shoulders shook as small, choked sobs began wracking her body.  She could no longer ignore that keening song in her heart.  Like trying to stop a flood armed with but a sieve, Lightning found herself utterly defenseless against the onslaught of emotions that resounded throughout her being.  Mourning for all that she had lost and suffered, she wept. At first, Raindrops was at a loss.  She was in disbelief.  She had never expected somepony as strong as Lightning Dust to ever break down and actually cry.  But hadn’t the past hour or so proven that perhaps such strength was only skin-deep?  That beneath that veneer and tarnish of confidence lay a shattered spirit begging for help?  It was then that Raindrops realized it, that she and Lightning—despite vast differences in their upbringing and personalities—were at their core the same kind of pony: ponies who were tired and lonely and tired of being lonely, when nopony ever deserved to be lonely no matter who they were or what they have done. Raindrops saw in Lightning Dust a pony who needed a friend. Just like her. Kindred spirits. She was broken out of her reverie as Lightning continued to blubber, “I… I just w-want… to be h-h-happy…” It took her only a second longer to hug the crying mare.  She encircled her hooves around her, allowing the other pony to bawl on her shoulder, months, if not years, of pent-up agony at long last being released from a soul who had nopony else to turn to for far too long.  It took only another second for Lightning to lean into the embrace and reciprocate it, wailing and clinging on for dear life, hoping against hope that this warm beacon in such a cold, lonely world would never leave her. The arrow of time was a constant, but neither of the two mares were aware of exactly how long they stayed locked in their embrace.  Lightning was no longer outright sobbing, but she still clutched onto Raindrops like a newborn foal, shuddering and hiccupping the last of her sorrows away.  Meanwhile, Raindrops continued to gently cradle Lightning and had unconsciously taken to softly humming an old lullaby, recalling times from her childhood when her mother would do the same thing for her when she was upset. That was their whole world now, their bastion against the cruelty of reality, but neither of them minded.  An eternity or two could have passed, but neither would have noticed. But alas, nothing lasts forever. It was Raindrops who spoke first.  “Lightning?” Lightning did not respond or raise her head, lacking the will to pick up the shards of her strength.  It was unclear if she even heard her. Raindrops was patient, though.  “Are you okay?” At length, Lightning whispered, “…No.”  Her voice was cracked and throaty, as if it physically hurt her to merely speak.  It would not be a surprise, given how much she had cried. Raindrops’ voice was nothing but sympathetic.  “…Things’ll get better, you know.” “…No, they won’t.” Raindrops winced for foolishly using such a tired cliché.  Of course things would not just magically get better in an instant.  It was not that easy.  However, Lightning needed help, and she knew she had to keep trying.  “I… I know it’s hard.  I know how tempting it is to just give in.  But you have to keep going…” “I… I c-can’t.” “Lightning…” “…W-What am I even supposed to d-do?”  At this, Lightning finally lifted her head from Raindrops’ damp shoulder and feebly pushed herself away, a herculean feat in and of itself.  She was a mess, eyes all red and puffy, cheeks still stained with tears, lip quivering.  Raindrops hated seeing her like this.  “I worked so hard and s-sacrificed so m-much, and for what?  My dream’s g-gone…  I gave up my job…  Everypony h-hates me…  I have no f-future…  My life is over!  It’s…  It’s o-over…  There’s n-nothing left for me…” Each bleak, hopeless word chiseled away at the fissure in Raindrops’ heart.  It would not take much more to rend it wholly asunder. But Raindrops would not have any of that. If anything, it only strengthened her resolve to see Lightning rise up once more. “Then change it.”  They were but three simple words, yet they easily managed to pierce Lightning’s brittle armor. Lightning froze.  “Wha…?” Even Raindrops was surprised by how blunt she sounded, but it did not show on her face, nor did she fail to take advantage of the momentum she had arguably been granted.  “Nothing will get better if you don’t do anything.  And believe me, it can get better.”  Her voice was firm but not unkind.  “It’s not easy, I know, but you have to make an effort.  Don’t just throw away your life like this.  You’ve got so much potential that it’d be a tragedy to let it all go to waste.” Lightning whimpered.  “…B-B-But the W-Wonderbolts—” “The Wonderbolts are just one possibility,” Raindrops swiftly countered, shutting Lightning up.  “You didn’t get in, but neither did I, and neither did a whole bunch of other ponies who tried before us.  But that doesn’t mean we should just give up.  Do you know why?”  Raindrops gestured to the horizon and the golden lands before it.  “It’s because in a world as big and beautiful as ours, who’s to say that there isn’t something as good as or even better than the Wonderbolts waiting for us?  Sure, I personally haven’t found it yet, but other ponies have, and I know I will, and so will you… one day.” Lightning looked away, not daring to believe her.  “…W-What if I d-don’t find a-anything?” “You will.”  Raindrops’ tone established that there was no room for argument here.  “I can’t say I know what it’ll be, but I do know you’ll find it eventually.” Lightning was not so easily convinced, though.  “But I… I’m… I’m just a f-failure…” However, Raindrops was more determined than ever to prove her otherwise.  “No, Lightning.  Don’t say that.  You’re no failure.”  She reached over and planted her hooves on Lightning’s shoulders, forcing eye contact.  Lightning’s wide eyes stared right into Raindrops’, and they saw nothing that suggested even the slightest hint of deception on the other mare’s part.  She truly meant every word. Raindrops did not waver, only pushing the offensive.  “You haven’t given up yet.  You’re hanging on.  Even after all you’ve been through, you’re still here.  Whether you realize it or not, that shows you want things to get better.  And I’m so proud of you for that.”  Raindrops then leaned forward and wrapped a thunderstruck Lightning in another warm hug.  She murmured, “Just know that you don’t have to go on alone anymore.” Lightning was petrified.  She could feel herself wanting to cry again.  “I… I…” “It’s not much, but I’ll walk with you every step of the way if I have to.”  Raindrops tightened her grip and whispered, “Just please… please promise that you won’t ever give up.” Lightning said nothing.  She remained still as a statue, her eyes misty and vacant.  But her mind was abuzz with activity.  A chaotic storm of thoughts and emotions raged on, and myriad voices howled at each other for dominance.  Some vouched for rejection, telling her that everything she had just been told was only meant to deceive her.  Others demanded that she just run away and pretend that nothing ever happened.  And yet others wished that she could just disappear forever.  After all, who would care for somepony as worthless as her?  Her life was over… But coming from nowhere, Raindrops’ words resonated like the dulcet chiming of a silver bell and silenced everything else.  They gave birth to something new, something different and unfamiliar, but that something shone with hope.  Its newborn existence banished the dark clouds that had constantly plagued her mind for so long.  It consoled her, caressed her, protected her.  It assured her that this was not the end.  It called out to her. It told her that one day she would have found a new purpose to follow… That she would have finally moved on and put her mistakes and broken dreams to rest… That she would not even be alone in her endeavor, not anymore… And that above all… She would be happy. It was beautiful, and she wanted it more than anything. And all she had to do was keep moving forward. Lightning sniffled and blinked, finding her vision blurry once more, but this time the tears she felt gathering in her eyes strangely did not feel so bitter.  Her mind was clear for the first time in ages; the only thing remaining was that vision of happiness.  She reached out for it, and it did not disappear.  She felt like flying again.  A small, genuine smile finally graced her muzzle. Lightning gently returned Raindrops’ hug and whispered back, “Okay.  I promise.” Companionship was truly a powerful thing.  Both Lightning Dust and Sunshower Raindrops would no doubt remember and cherish this moment together for the rest of their lives, forever imprinted on their hearts as it was.  Unfortunately, it was slightly marred by the sight of the Sun’s descent towards its cradle beneath the horizon, signaling to Raindrops her overdue departure from Cloudsdale and prompting her to hurriedly throw on her saddlebags. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” “Raindrops.” “I’m so sorry, Lightning!  I know I just said I’d stick with you, but I lost track of time and I really need to go now!” “Raindrops.” “I’ll visit as soon as I can, but that might take a while.  I’ll see if I can spare some time next month.  I hope that’s okay!  Again, I’m so sorry!” “Raindr—” “Please, don’t be mad at me!  I swear, if I could stay longer, I would!  But I need to be home before it gets dark!” “Rain—” “I’m—” “RAINDROPS!” Said pony jumped and halted fiddling at her straps.  With wide eyes, she turned her attention away from her saddlebags and towards Lightning.  “Sorry…” she whispered intelligently. Lightning sighed, though it was less from annoyance and more from amusement.  Presently, she looked much better than she did a few moments ago: Her eyes were still somewhat bloodshot, but her tears had been wiped away and her mood had considerably improved, though her poor throat was still very sore.  She barely held back a wince from aggravating it just now.  For everypony’s sake, she wisely decided to keep her volume to a minimum, speaking in only a hoarse whisper.  “Didn’t mean to yell, Raindrops, but really, it’s cool.  No need to go all Caneighdian on me.” Raindrops blushed slightly.  “I really am sorry that I have to go so soon, though.” Lightning shrugged.  “Then just go.  As much as I’d love for you to stay, you have your own life to worry about first.  I can still take care of myself, believe it or not.  Besides, I think I have an idea of where to go from here.” Raindrops grinned brightly and clapped her hooves together in excitement.  “Really?” Lightning smiled, as well.  “Yup.  I think first I’ll visit my sister, probably in a few days.  For better or worse, it’s something I need to do… and should’ve done years ago.  Here’s hoping she hasn’t moved away or something.” Raindrops’ grin faltered.  “Um…  What if she has?” Lightning was quiet for a bit before responding.  “I’ll find her.  And if I don’t… well, I’ll just have to keep looking.  In the meantime, I can find a job; maybe I’ll even practice my flying again.  I’ll be busy, but I think something good will come out of that as long as I keep trying.  Plus, at least I can still see you, right?” Raindrops enthusiastically bobbed her head up and down.  “Of course!  Like I said, I’ll try my hardest to visit Cloudsdale more often.  Oh!  Wait a minute…”  Rummaging through her saddlebags, she produced a small scrap of paper and a pencil.  She hastily scribbled something on the paper before giving it to Lightning, who scanned it curiously.  “Here.  That’s my address.  You can write me or even visit me, if you want.  I’m home most of the time, but if I’m not then you can just ask around.  Everypony knows everypony in Ponyville, even… even though nopony is really friends with me there…” Looking up from the paper, Lightning noticed Raindrops’ suddenly glum demeanor and immediately patted her shoulder comfortingly.  “Hey, don’t let that get you down.  It’s their loss that nopony there has realized how awesome you are.” Raindrops visibly perked up as she felt a surge of joy envelop her, scarcely believing Lightning’s words.  “R-Really?  I’m a-awesome?  You mean that?” “Uh, yeah!” Lightning exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  “You talked to me.  You listened.  You’ve convinced me to keep trying and get my life back on track.  Hay, you even let me cry on your shoulder!”  She coughed sheepishly and blushed lightly.  “Uh, sorry about that, by the way.  I swear, I don’t normally cry so much.” Raindrops smiled bashfully, unconsciously wiping at her now-dry shoulder.  “Aww, it’s okay.  Besides, I was just doing the right thing.” “Well, then most ponies don’t know how to do the right thing, because you’re the first pony in a long time to actually care about me,” Lightning said sincerely.  “And if that isn’t awesome, then I don’t know what is.” Cheeks tinged pink, Raindrops beamed.  “Wow…  Th-Thanks.  Nopony’s ever called me awesome before…  That really means a lot to me.” Lightning winked at her and quipped, “You should feel honored, you know.  There aren’t a lot of ponies I consider awesome, besides myself, of course.” Raindrops, playing along, puffed out her chest and boldly declared, “Indeed.  Henceforth, I shall treasure your words forevermore, Lady Lightning Dust, even after I have departed this mortal coil and find myself standing before the Gates of Elysium.”  She topped off her gallant proclamation with a gracious bow of her head. Lightning dramatically swooned in response, holding a hoof to her forehead.  “You speak truly!”  With an exaggerated, pompous tone, she decreed, “By my power, all of Equestria shall know your awesomeness, Knight Raindrops.  This I swear, and may there be mercy for those foolish enough to challenge that fact.” Unable to contain herself, Raindrops burst into a fit of mirthful giggles, a melodious sound that enticed Lightning to drop her façade and join in, as well.  The air became filled with soft laughter and warm camaraderie.  It was a joy that neither pony had truly experienced for the longest time until they had met the other.  It was almost difficult to imagine that the two were virtually total strangers to each other just earlier this day, and now… now they shared something special between them, something precious and irreplaceable and not easily broken. It was all that they had ever wanted, and so much more. It was therefore with no small amount of reluctance that they finally parted ways.  Goodbyes were not easy, no, for they all too often carried with them the unsaid message of finality, that there would not be a next time.  They were a bittersweet melody, and the two would have been lying had they claimed that neither felt a pang of sadness as Raindrops’ time in Cloudsdale drew to a close.   They shared one final hug.  Words were exchanged—exactly what they said, only they knew.  Perhaps it was Lightning giving her thanks.  Perhaps it was Raindrops promising yet again to visit soon.  Or perhaps they simply said their farewells and well wishes.  Nopony but them knew, but nopony else needed to know. As Raindrops rocketed forth into the twilight sky, she could not help but sniffle, already feeling that accursed dampness welling up in her eyes.  She did not want to leave.  She tried to even her breathing, but a few small whines managed to slip past her flimsy defenses.  It would surely not be long before they became full-on wails.  Akin to a helpless child reaching out for her mother, she shot one last, desperate glance backwards at her hometown… and saw Lightning smiling and waving back at her. Raindrops slowed down a little.  She sucked in a breath and wiped at her eyes.  Somehow, the sight managed to ease her despair, but why?  She was still leaving her beloved Cloudsdale behind.  She was still as pathetic as ever.  Nothing in her life had changed, right? But what about Lightning? Raindrops bowed her head in reflection.  She thought back to the events that transpired this day, how a single unexpected meeting, with all of its painful truths and heartfelt moments, ended up helping a pony who had been lost and alone for the longest time, even more so than Raindrops herself.  Indeed, her original intent may admittedly have been selfish, a laughable attempt at kindling friendship, but what had ultimately happened was far more important: Lightning now knew where to go from here on out.  She would not give up.  And even if they were apart, deep down Raindrops understood that no amount of physical distance would matter. If Lightning could still smile after all that she went through, then so could she. And she did just that. The flight back to Ponyville did not seem so daunting anymore.  Lightning made sure of that.  Though Raindrops’ life was currently far from the idyllic fantasies she had as a daydreaming filly, she knew that it could still get better—she would be a hypocrite to think otherwise.  Moreover, as a result of this tumultuous day, perhaps she was one step closer to realizing her lofty visions… Raindrops giggled.  Maybe. Could she and Lightning be considered friends, now?  She dared not push her luck so soon and jump to conclusions, but she had a feeling that her worries were unfounded.  Hopefully, it would not be too long until they meet again, but for now her cottage awaited her.  Her spirits lifted, Raindrops soared away, and her smile did not waver. Meanwhile, Lightning loyally watched Raindrops become nothing more than a speck in the distance, smiling and waving all the while.  She had not expected her day to go the way it did, but she would be forever indebted to the other mare for it.  She idly remembered the little slip of paper she had been given, now safely tucked under her wing. Ponyville, huh? How fortunate it was that she could knock two birds with one stone—a visit to Raindrops, as well as the opportunity to once and for all set things right with an old partner of hers… She shook her head.  No, not yet.  That can wait. When Lightning could no longer see Raindrops, she finally dropped her hoof and sighed contentedly.  To think that after all that she had done, there was still somepony who cared about her.  She vowed to treasure that fact, to never betray such undeserved kindness.  She had to return the favor someday.  For now, the setting Sun told her that it was time to go home.  Before she left, however, her eyes lingered on the shining, beckoning city of Canterlot for a moment longer.  Her smile softened. Soon… Finally, Lightning turned away and began making her way back to her little apartment, a spring in her step and a promise in her heart.  Thing were looking up, at last.  Raindrops had helped her take the first step in a new direction of her life.  It would be an uphill battle, no doubt about that, but Lightning knew that she would not have to tackle it by herself. After all, nopony ever deserved to be alone. And to have a friend to ease such an arduous journey as life… It brings with it a promise of only happier days to come. As nightfall descended upon Cloudsdale, a little bench at the edge of the city remained empty. It was still empty the following day, as were most days after that. It did not receive very many visitors. But occasionally, two little ponies would come and sit, with stories to share. And they would talk.