"Come on, Flitter!" Cloudchaser called behind her, the mare's eyes thanking her for turning away from the wind. "Are you stopping to get a snack or something?" The wild-maned pegasus searched the air behind her, trying to find her sister. Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she spotted Flitter, crumpled in a ball at the foot of a tree. With a small yelp of shock, the pegasus immediately launched herself into a dive, landing next to her sister within seconds.
"Oh my gosh, Flitter, are you okay?" The mare knelt down next to her sister, her hoof gently brushing a bleeding laceration on the crown of the purple mare's head. "You're bleeding."
"I'm fine, sis," Flitter answered, looking up. Her eyes were slightly glazed, and her voice was lilting. "Come on, let's finish the race." The injured pegasus struggled to stand, and had to be helped by her sister.
"No, Flitter," Cloudchaser asserted, her hair becoming even more hectic as a strong draft of wind following a pegasi broadsided her. "You're hurt."
"I don't care!" Flitter said, stumbling forward. "I want to win!" The injured pegasus began a hobbling take-off run forward, and promptly fell on her face.
Cloudchaser rushed over. "Flitter? Are you okay?"
The injured pegasus turned her face to her sister, who found it to be streaked with tears. "I wanna finish, sis," Flitter choked out. "I wanna finish."
Cloudchaser playfully rolled her eyes and smiled. "Come on, Flits," She said, helping her sister up. "Let's get to the end. Together."
Cloudchaser helped her sister take to the skies again, the two slowly coasting towards the finish line. Upon approach, they began to hear a continuous sound of cheering.
They crossed the finish line to a crowd full of congratulatory ponies.
Pinkie Pie dangled from the ceiling, slowly lowering herself down via a contraption that resembled the fusion of a bicycle and a rope. As she neared the table, she shifted her weight to position herself just right. When she decided that she was in the right place, she lowered herself a bit more. The olive, lightly and precariously perched between her teeth, slid gently onto the toothpick.
The earth pony backpedaled a bit, then hopped out of the device. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. Sitting on the plate was a slice of bread, speared with a perfectly juxtaposed olive-and-toothpick combo. Pinkie liked to build her sandwiches backwards.
Immediately, Pinkie rushed into the kitchen. She grabbed multiple slices of lettuce, bits of hay, and some daises. These she expertly placed onto the toothpick, making sure every ingredient was cleanly centered.
Then Pinkie dashed into the kitchen, gazing into the pantry at her shelf of odd plants. Apparently making a decision, she grabbed a putrid voodoo lily and quickly returned to the table to add it to the sandwich.
No, no, no. A voice in Pinkie's head spoke up. Voodoo lilies don't go well with daises. You need to add a dash of... The rainbow.
Pinkie sighed and placed the lily before speaking up. "No, Pinkamena," She said. "I'm not using 'Essence of Rainbow Dash' or whatever you call it. Seriously, why are you so murderous?"
Oh come on! The voice, apparently named Pinkamena, objected. Voodoo lilies and daises don't mix! You know that!
"I don't care. I'm not taking culinary advice from a cannibalistic alternate personality." Pinkie said, placing the bottom slice on the bread.
Slowly, suspensfully, the pony took the sandwich in her hooves and raised it to her mouth. She took a big bite.
Lyra gracefully flitted about the stage, her hooves barely touching the boards before darting back up to land somewhere else. The mint green unicorn gazed out at the crowded audience, eventually spotting her lover, Bon-bon. The cream-colored earth pony was watching in awed rapture, obviously amazed that her lover had become this skilled in such a short time.
Lyra's thoughts raced through her mind at a thousand miles an hour. Sweet Celestia, this is amazing. She thought. This feels so perfect, so complete, so... So right. Like I belong here. An inexorable grin spread across Lyra's face. If only Bon-bon could feel this way. Too bad she has stage fright. But by golly, this feels awesome. I'm untouchable up here.
In what seemed sudden to everyone but Lyra, the music switched from a slow, legato tempo to a fast, staccato one. Immediately, Lyra launched herself into a series of backflips, racing across the stage in an impressive feat of speed and agility. However, upon landing the last backflip, her hoof struck a particularly slick section of wood, and she fell.
Lyra fell backwards, instinctively throwing out her hooves to stop herself, which caused her to snap her right foreleg. A gasp erupted by the audience at the sound of the sudden snap. Lyra writhed in agony on the stage, oblivious to anything other than the throbbing pain in her leg.
Come on, Lyra. She thought through the pain, tears streaming down her face. You've spent months preparing for this, months practicing, months waiting for the recital. You can't let a broken leg stop you!
Lyra rolled onto her stomach, placing three legs firmly onto the stage and painfully lifting herself up. "I don't care that my leg is broken," She said. "I'm going to finish this dance."
Sweetie Belle moved the fabric slowly away from her, allowing the sewing machine to stitch a decorative white lace onto the hem. Once she was done with the hem, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. The bottom of the dress was done. Now for the rest.
Sweetie's sister, Rarity, entered the room. "Oh, Sweetie Belle, what are you doing?" The mare asked, reflecting upon vivid memories of her younger sister's past failures at dress-making.
"I'm making a dress for that funeral of yours, Rarity!" The filly chirped. "You know, the one for that young filly."
"Oh, Sweetie Belle," Rarity said. "I already have a dress for funerals."
"But Rarity, I wanna make this dress for you!" The filly pleaded. "Can I at least try?"
Rarity sighed. "Fine, fine. But I get to choose which one I wear, deal?"
"Deal," Sweetie Belle agreed, watching her sister exit the room. Immediately, she turned around and grabbed another piece of black fabric, sewing it onto the other piece. Once she was done with this, she discovered something horrible. There wasn't any more black fabric!
Okay, Sweetie, think! The filly thought. What can you use instead of black? Oooh! Blue! Bright blue! Wait, no, it needs to be black, it's a funeral. Well, I don't care! This will be the best funeral dress ever!
Sweetie ran to the fabric shelves and grabbed a few yards of electric blue silk. She rushed back to the sewing machine and sewed it together with the lacy white fabric just right to create a top half for the dress. Once she was done, she rushed the dress to her sister.
"Oh, Sweetie, it's - it's -" Rarity said, her eyes widening, Sweetie Belle's heart quickening. "Beautiful! It's so innovative, so amazing, so completely perfect! I'll wear it!"
Luna placed a warm cloth gently upon her sister's head. "Are you sure?" The princess of the night asked. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea."
"Don't worry, Luna," Celestia rasped. "You'll do fine. Raising the sun isn't so hard. You're just not used to it."
"Are you sure you can't?" Luna asked.
"Yes, I'm sure," She replied. "I'm too sick to do it today. I'll be fine tomorrow, though." The ivory princess looked out of the open doors onto the balcony. "It's time, Luna. Don't worry. You'll do great."
Luna stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath. She tapped into reserves of magical ether via her horn and channeled the magic towards the the sun. Rivulets of pain shot through her head as she slowly, strenuously lifted an object 72 million times larger than the moon. A groan of pain escaped her lips as more magic shot from her horn, the glow around her horn changing into a sporadically shape changing explosion of magic.
"Luna!" Celestia wheezed from her bedroom. "You're going to hurt yourself!"
"I don't care!" Luna shouted, increasing the magic. "I need to do this!" The princess of the night reared back on her hind hooves and halted her magic. She harnessed all of the magic she could and concentrated it all into the center of her horn. Then she let it loose.
The magic shot off so fast, it broke the sonic rainboom barrier, a poly-chromatic circle emphasizing the raw power of the blast. It reached the sun in almost an instant, and, with enough force to knock Luna back into the bedroom, the sun rose into the sky.
The sun was barely visible on the horizon, a small half-circle of bright light. She had done it. She had risen the sun.