> Broken Wings, Broken Spirits > by Darkblaze15 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1: The Accident > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- There really is nothing better than the freedom of flying. The words constantly whirled around my mind like the very wind that whistled loudly in my ears. I zoomed past rooftop after rooftop, eyes focused on the dark gray target ahead of me. Flapping my wings as furiously as a hawk chasing its prey, I channeled all my extra energy into surging as far forward as fast as I could as the final rooftop loomed near. With a fierce growl that sounded a little too savage for a colt my age, I soared past my opponent and crossed over the rooftop, signaling the end of the race. After performing a few victory somersaults in the air, I landed on the front lawn of my cloud home. It was a humble little abode, at least by cloud house standards, that sat in the middle of one of the numerous cul-de-sacs within the Harbor Heights suburb of Cloudsdale. Three bedrooms, two baths, spacious living room and kitchen – perfect for me, my parents, and my younger brother Riley. Being born and raised in the same house for almost fifteen years has its perks; I knew pretty much all of the colts and fillies within my neighborhood pretty well, including the grey colt who landed next to me, panting as the adrenaline of the race wore off. “Well, Jacob, looks like another win for me,” I teased as I playfully pretended to mark down another tally on an imaginary scoreboard. I don’t usually like to brag that often, but when it came to beating my best friend in our little pick-up races, I can’t help myself. I remember the very first time he challenged me to a race in elementary school to show off to his friends. I will always remember the look of sheer shock and surprise on all of their faces when I took khim to the cleaners that day. “Yeah, yeah, talk it up all you want,” Jacob says, stretching the muscles in his powerful yet massive wings. Whenever ponies would see us race, they would get confused as to why I would win so much, since Jacob’s wings were bigger than most colts our age. While his wings may seem more powerful, years of practice and sprints have allowed me to advance my agility and perfect my technique so that I could easily outpace him in a race – even if he had the lead! “I’ll find a way to beat you one of these days,” he added. “Well, I think you’ll be waiting a long time for that, bud,” I said coolly, “I must be a natural or something if you can’t break your longest losing streak yet!” “Har har, you must think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he chuckled sarcastically. “I think so, don’t you?” I teased him again. Just then, my mother, a pale cream pegasus with dark blue and gold-streaked mane and tail, stepped out of our front door upon overhearing our debate. She worked in the local design firm, earning a respectable reputation as graphic designer and taking in clients almost every week. As such, she would often be working weekends either in town or at home, but she managed to schedule the day off to finish some housework she missed last weekend. “Everything alright out here, sweetie?” she asked with a hint of that instinctive motherly concern. “Yeah, we’re good, Mom,” I reassured her, “Jacob and I are just trying to decide who’s the better flyer. Spoiler alert; it’s me!” I added with all the intention of Jacob hearing me. Mom chuckled, “I’m sure, hon. Listen, I’ll be out back in the garden, can you keep an eye on Riley for the afternoon?” She stepped aside to let my younger brother by five years, a tan colt with light gray mane and tail, hopped out of the house, looking eagerly at us for entertainment. “Okay Mom,” I said, causing Riley to squeal with excitement and bound down the yard to meet up with us. “Thanks, John,” Mom said, “And if there’s anything else you boys need, I’m sure you know where to find it.” “Thanks, Mrs. Darkblaze,” Jacob responded as she walked around to her garden out back. “So, what’re we gonna do today?” Riley asked enthusiastically. “Hm, I dunno, what do you wanna do today?” I countered playfully. “How about we go to the weather factory?” he suggested, “We can wave to dad from one of the windows!” My dad, a navy stallion with reddish brown mane and tail like me, worked at the Cloudsdale Weather Factory for as long as I can remember. I’d anxiously anticipate the days when he’d bring Riley and I into work to show us around. I’d always thought it was so fascinating to see all the machines working together to create the weather of the land. (not that I could ever see myself working there) “What do you think, Jake?” I asked my friend. “Sure, we can say hi to my dad, too,” Jacob said nonchalantly. Coincidentally, his dad worked at the weather factory, as well, having started only a few days before my dad himself. This actually turned out to be a major factor in Jacob and I becoming close friends after our first race, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it. Although we constantly competed against each other, it was all in the name of good fun and we rarely held grudges against one another for very long. Nevertheless, we took to the skies on our journey to the weather factory, Jacob and I matching a steady pace while Riley followed slightly behind due to his less-developed wing muscles. We soared past streets of ponies enjoying the breezy Sunday afternoon, waving whenever we’d see somepony we knew from school or our respective neighborhoods. As we rounded the last corner onto the long straightaway leading to the factory, Jacob gets that mischievous glint in his eye that signals to me whenever he’d be looking for a rematch. I accept his challenge with a grin and we take off down the street, leaving Riley in our dust. As we soar down the street, Jacob powers ahead, cackling with delight as he sees me fall behind. Little did he know that it was all a part of my strategy; I kept my pace all while feeling the wind around me for a particularly strong breeze. Suddenly, I felt it; a slight change in wind strength from behind, but just enough for what I needed. I flapped my wings furiously, allowing the wind to carry me further and faster than normal. Just as we approached the perimeter fence surrounding the buildings, I looked back at my friend, seeing his shocked face as I overtook him and crossed over the fence, signaling the end of yet another victorious race. I looked behind me again, whooping and hollering over winning our little sprint, as I took a few victory laps around the nearest building. What happened next is still a blank to me, but from what I’d gathered from Jacob and Riley after the fact, here’s what went down. A freak cloud-mixing malfunction from within the factory released a dark storm cloud super-charged with stato-electric energy into the sky – and I zoomed right into its core. Flashes of blinding white light and excruciatingly-loud booms filed my vision and hearing, all culminating in a searing-hot, painful sensation across my back. I remember falling back down to the ground, the clouds breaking the pain from the fall but not the pain in my back. Jacob and Riley entered my blurred vision immediately after hitting the ground, horrified looks donning their faces. Jacob muttered something about never seeing anything so terrible happening before and Riley said he would get Dad from inside. After that, the pain in my back intensified so much to the point that I blacked out on the spot, wondering what in Equestria could’ve happened to me… > Chapter 2: The Aftermath > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next time I regained consciousness I was lying on my back, staring up at a set of harsh white lights. At first, I thought I was reliving the horrible experience yet again, and I bolted upright on my bed, feeling the stinging on my back. As my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I relaxed slightly after realizing that I was only in a hospital bedroom looking up at the lights on the ceiling. My sudden movement awoke two slumbering forms to my immediate right, and I looked over to see my parents huddled together on a bench, sleeping with interlocked hooves. “Mo-om? Da-ad?” I croaked, surprised at how hoarse my voice sounded. Upon hearing my voice, their eyes shot open and gasped when they saw that I was awake, as well. “Oh, my poor baby!” Mom exclaimed and pulled me gently but passionately into a tight, heartfelt hug, holding on as if I would disappear if she let go at any moment. “How are you feeling, son?” Dad asked as he ran his hoof through my unkempt mane, looking at me with eyes filled with concern. “My back hurts,” I responded honestly, reaching around to rub the spots where I could still feel the pain. “Does it?” Mom said, laughing nervously, as if she was trying to hide something from me. Dad puts his hoof around her back to calm her down. “Where’re Jacob and Riley?” I asked, remembering what happened and how they were both by my side before I blacked out. “Jacob’s home with Magnum,” Dad explained briefly, “and we sent Riley to Nana and Papa’s for the day.” “Your brother was so brave when it happened,” Mom said, “Going to fetch your dad when he must’ve been feeling so scared. He also said that Jacob never left your side until he and your dad got back, even after you blacked out.” “Wow, really?” I said, awestruck over Riley’s heroics and Jacob’s perseverance, “Wh-what even happened?” I finally asked the big question of the day. “Well, Riley and Jacob told us that you flew into a storm cloud,” Dad explained, “Something about a cloud-mixing mistake and faulty procedures. I swear, when I get my hooves on whoever’s responsible for this…” he added menacingly, a sudden glare overtaking his normally soft expression. “Now don’t go wishing harm on others,” Mom scolded lightly, “Nopony purposefully targeted our son, and we should be grateful that he’s still with us after everything he went through yesterday.” “Wait, yesterday?” I asked, looking over to the jet-black sky through the lone window in the room, “How long have I been out?” Mom looks down slightly, almost in shame, “Almost twenty-four hours, sweetie,” she said, “T-There was a l-lot that they had to d-do,” she stammered, nearly breaking down into tears. “What do you mean?” I asked, “What did—” was all I could say before the door into the room opened up revealing a red unicorn stallion with silver mane and tail wearing a traditional doctor’s overcoat. “Ah, hello there!” he greeted us, “Glad to see you’re up and moving again so soon, John! How are you feeling today?” “Fine, I guess,” I responded politely, “Back’s a little sore, but I’m sure it’ll wear off.” “Ah yes, well,” the doctor suddenly stammered, “I-I’m sure it will. How long has he been awake, Mom?” he then addressed my mom. “Only a few minutes,” she responded, inklings of tears still in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. “Good, good. Well, allow me to introduce myself,” he said, “My name’s Doctor Sparrow Flight, and I’ll be your doctor during your stay here at Ponyville General Hospital.” “Ponyville?” I pondered curiously. Cloudsdale did have their own hospital facility, albeit smaller than most in Equestria, and the doctors and nurses knew us well throughout our many years of visits, especially after Riley accidentally broke both his forelegs on a dare. It sounded ridiculous to me that the hospital chariot “Why Ponyville instead of Cloudsdale?” “Ah, well, you see,” Doctor Flight stammered, “According to the delivery ponies, there were not enough resources at Cloudsdale Memorial to patch you back up. I’ve been told that the damage—” he paused, searching for the right words, “—was quite extensive.” “What damage?” I asked inquisitively, stretching my wings to try and relieve some of the soreness; only, when I flexed them, I felt nothing. Perplexed, I peered around to look behind me, only to do a complete double take at the sight I saw; I threw the bed sheets immediately off me, vaulted over the edge, and rushed over to the narrow floor-to-ceiling mirror in my room. Sure enough, my eyes weren’t deceiving me, my wings were truly and completely gone, with two little stubs, covered in thick gauze, sticking up off my back as the only indication that I had wings at all. I stood rooted in my place, unable to speak or move, just trying to process my current state. Out of the corner of my eye, within the mirror, I saw Mom completely break down in sympathy for my situation, with Dad hanging his head low and holding her tight against him. Doctor Sparrow stood off to the side, nervously adjusted his glasses, as the scene unfolded in front of him. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, John,” he said sadly, “but we did everything we could possibly do here. The thing is, since you’ve already entered adolescence, fusing the bones together would not have been as successful than if this happened in early foalhood…” he continued to spout some scientific explanation, but most of it fell on deaf ears as the realization that I would never fly again crashed down around me. * * * * A series of knocks echoed on the other side of the door to my room; “Come in,” I called out as I sat in my room alone. After the initial shock of the news I received wore off the other day, Mom and Dad left to stay with Riley up at our grandparents’ house, promising to return the next day with everypony else in tow. The pony currently waiting outside my door, however, turned out to be somepony I’d been aching to see ever since the accident. “Hey John,” Jacob Braveheart stepped anxiously over the threshold. “Hey Jake,” I greeted brightly, beckoning him inside, “How’s it going?” “Well, I’ve been better, I guess,” he said honestly looking down at the ground, “What about you? I can’t believe they did that to you,” he adds, gesturing to my wing stubs. “Yeah, I guess it hasn’t really caught up with me yet, either,” I admit, even though I told my parents the other day that I would be fine while they were gone. As soon as they left, however, I had slowly made my way back over to the mirror and just stared at the emptiness left behind by my missing wings. Nopony else knew this, but I had cried myself to sleep last night, thinking about how I’d never feel the rush of the wind against my feathers, or the liberating sensation I would get every time I took to the skies. “I’ll bet,” he commented, still staring at the ground. “Well, on the bright side,” I said, trying to lift both of our spirits, “The soreness in my back is gone, and Doctor Flight says that we can take the bandages off sometime to..day…” I trailed off as I heard some faint sniffling coming from the only other pony in the room, “Uh, Jake, you okay?” I asked my best friend. Without warning, Jacob broke down right in the middle of the room, “It’s all my fault, man! It was my stupid idea to race to the weather factory; I didn’t warn you about the storm cloud in time; it’s all my fault!” “Wha-huh? Hey, don’t think like that, dude!” I rushed to his side and patted his shoulder as he fell back on his haunches, wiping tears from his eyes, “This was all just a freak accident, nopony here’s at fault. If anything, it’s my own dumb fault for not paying attention to where I was going.” Jacob’s sobs lessened a bit, but they still wracked his sturdy frame, “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t blame you for what happened any more than I blame my own brother. That’s not at all, in case you were wondering,” I whisper in his ear. That seemed to lighten his mood as he stood back up and gave me a quick hoof bump and hug combo. Not long after Jacob’s emotional outburst, Riley, my parents, and my grandparents entered the room bearing small gifts and warm welcomes. Nana and Papa were pleased to see that I made it through the wing removal surgery relatively in-tact and were especially happy to offer me some of my favorite books to read while I stayed in the hospital. Mom and Dad were happy to see that Jacob had come to visit and, upon learning of his self-proclaimed guilt, gave him heartfelt hugs to reassure him of his innocence. Although I put on a happy expression for the remainder of their visit, deep down I couldn’t help but wonder about my seemingly-bleak future as a pegasi without wings. > Chapter 3: Rock Bottom > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It’s official. Now I know what it feels like to hit rock bottom. I’d been thinking about that ever since the last time my parents came to visit. It had been roughly a week ago, during one of their bi-nightly visits; I couldn’t figure it out at the time, but they had seemed a bit more distant than before, snapping at one another whenever they got the chance. The nurses had moved me to the rehab wing of Ponyville General only a week before then, and Mom and Dad seemed perfectly fine even before that. Ever since it happened, I’d been wondering what could make them so angry at one another, until one day when… “Hey John!” the voice of Sparrow Flight came from the other side of my door, interrupting my thoughts, “Time to clean your bandages!” He opened the door lightly, as if he thought I was still sleeping in the middle of the day. No, I’d been sitting straight up in my bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror for pretty much the entire day so far. “How are you doing today?” he asked for what seemed like the millionth time since my admittance into this facility. “Fine, I guess,” I responded melancholy as he prepared to remove my old bandages. “The nurses tell me that you’ve rarely left your room since you came here,” he stated, carefully and gently unwrapping the gauze from my wing stubs, “I’m sure you’re still in pain from what happened, but I think it would do you some good to go outside, get some fresh air, get those blood cells pumping!” he said enthusiastically while I continued to sit there, not saying a word in response. He sighed, pulling out a fresh roll of gauze from his neck pack, “Well, would you please consider it? Can you do that for me, John?” he adds with a hint of concern for my well-being. Not wanting to seem rude, but still wallowing over my condition, I nod slowly on his behalf. He seemed to take that as confirmation either way, “That’s the spirit! I might be back later tonight to check up on you before I leave, or I’ll have Charlotte do it. See you around!” With that, he departed, leaving me in my dark thoughts. For a few minutes after he’d left, I stayed sitting up on my bed, looking down at my hooves broodingly. I didn’t blame the doctor for what had happened, of course, but that still did little to help me get over the fact that I would never be able to fly again. It honestly felt like I lost a part of my soul with the loss of my wings, that a hole has opened up within me and I’d never get it back. I’d heard of other pegasi from ages ago that had lost a wing or both, but not one of those stories featured a pony as young as I was. They had all had a chance to live for most of their lives in the skies; I’d only gotten a little taste of my potential compared to them. The more I thought about my future as a flightless pegasus, the less excited I acted towards life and those around me. Jacob would visit me almost every day, looking for different ways to cheer me up, but I would often push his suggestions away and continue to stare blankly at the world around me. According to this imaginary schedule, he should’ve come in to visit today, but it was late afternoon and there was still no sign of him anywhere. I don’t blame him, though; I mean, who’d want to hang out with somepony who acted as dull and depressed as I felt now? As I trudged over to the mirror to gaze upon my misfortunes yet again, I remind myself of something Riley confided in me during his last visit. Something rather troubling about our parents ever since the accident. He had said that they were fighting and yelling at each other more back home, often over my predicament. The last time they were here together, it was close to my bedtime, but I had snuck out to listen to exactly what they were saying about me: “…Don’t worry, he can’t hear us. Now, what exactly are you suggesting we do?” Dad asked exasperatedly. “Well, it’s obvious we can’t stay in Cloudsdale anymore,” Mom said, “We should move down here.” “And why exactly can’t we stay?” he asked, temper rising slightly. “Have you seen our son lately?” she said, raising her voice, “He can’t fly! How will he get up to school? How can we make our house pegasi-proof? What do you think the teasing will be like?” “Well, there has to be a better way to get around this than picking up everything we had and dumping it down here,” he said, “Do you have any idea how long we’ve worked to make a living for ourselves up there?! We’d have to start all over agin!” “Well, what else do you suggest?!” Mom exclaimed, in tears at this point, “I am NOT leaving my son down here while we sit up there and…and…” she suddenly broke down completely and put her head in her hooves, crying over a week’s worth of stress and tension out of her system. Dad hesitated for a moment before wrapping his hooves around her sobbing form. “Listen, things seem to work themselves out somehow,” he said, “Let’s just take everything in stride and see what happens from here on out, okay?” She nodded through her sobs as I rushed back to my bed as quietly as I could. Thinking back to that argument now, I realized that what scared me the most wasn’t just the prospect of moving. Although I’d lived in Cloudsdale most all of my life and moving would prove difficult, especially in my current state, I wasn’t all that close to anypony at school, other than Jacob, who would visit me regardless of where I lived. No, what scared me the most was that my parents were fighting over me, and if they kept at it, they might’ve eventually broken up. If I ended up being the cause of their divorce, then I’d probably never pull out of this funk I was in. I knew of plenty of foals at school who lost one or both parents either to divorce or death, and after seeing how sullen and somber they looked, I had no desire to become one of them. While these thoughts circled and somersaulted in my head, I trudged back to the bed, pulled my broken self over the edge, and crawled under the covers, prepared to never come back out ever again. > Chapter 4: Unexpected Salvation > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- As I lay in my bed moping and tuning out the world around me, I heard a light rustling outside the window in my room. I initially thought nothing of it as I went back to my moping. When the noise sounded again, this time closer, curiosity overtook my sorrow and I pulled myself out of bed, walking promptly towards the window. Upon opening it, I look around my surroundings from the first floor of the building, not seeing anything suspicious. Just as I was about to close it, I heard the noise again, this time coming from directly beneath me. I looked down and gasped at what I saw; a small, orange tabby kitten lay just underneath the window, looking mangled and in need. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the kitten was missing its left hind leg, making its walking and standing wobbly and off-balance. Mom had a thing about Riley and I bringing home stray animals as pets, but something about seeing how helpless the cat looked made me feel pity for the poor creature. As I watched it roam around in the leaves for a little bit, I eventually made the decision to bring the kitten inside my room, setting it down on the floor and letting it roam around my room. I lay there in front of it, watching it earnestly, and the cat hobbled across the hard floor as best as it could. It crawled up on my back and sniffed at my wing stubs, almost as if it could that I was disabled, as well. As it hopped – well, fell – off my back and continued its journey across the floor, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for it and wonder what had happened to its leg. The more I watched this poor kitten wander about, however, the more I began to think about how, despite everything that might’ve happened to it, the cat still managed to retain some semblance of wonder and life, which was more than I could say about myself. Suddenly, an idea began to form in my mind, and I promptly stood up, the kitten looking at me curiously with big, watery eyes, as I searched my room for the supplies I needed to fulfil my plan. It’s not until late afternoon when my plan finally came to fruition in the form of a temporary prosthetic leg. Although it was basically a couple of pencils bound with rubber bands and a makeshift harness made of string, I hoped that it would work well enough until I could take it to a vet where they would have better and more extensive resources. All while I worked on attaching my leg to the kitten’s flank, it stares up at me with all the wonder and curiosity of a newborn foal. I chuckle at the thought as I set it down on the desk in my room and wait for its reaction. The kitten briefly tested its new leg as it walked around the desktop, its movement still wobbly but somewhat more static and seemingly more comfortable, at least from my perspective. After a couple of laps, it walked up to me and paused before licking my face with fierce but inviting gratefulness, purring loudly. I chuckled at the kitten’s antics – something I hadn’t done in weeks – and brought the kitten in close with a hug as I mentally adopted it, knowing full well that Mom will have a fit when she finds out about my new friend. The more I looked at my handiwork, however, the more I thought about my own predicament. Here was this kitten, happy as can be, while I was sitting there, still feeling sorry for myself; all the time I wasted moping around could’ve been put to better use trying to cheer myself up. As We both sit there, the kitten snuggling into my lap, I couldn’t help but think about how similar we both were. We both had missing limbs, needed assistance in our time of need, and were lost until we found each other. As the kitten began to fall asleep, I began to think about if and how I could improve my own situation in a similar fashion to this kitten’s new leg. As I looked across my room and my gaze fell upon the blinds on the window, I formulated another idea and set to it immediately, racing out of my room to collect more tools and supplies. * * * * The next morning, my parents and brother were walking down the hallway towards my room, anxious for their next visit with me. “I wish we left earlier,” Mom said, “Curse these darn bangs and their need to be brushed!” “It’s still early, dear,” Dad yawned slightly, “If he and his brother are anything alike,” he says, gesturing to the small slumbering form on her back, “then he won’t be up for a little while, so we’re good.” “Maybe you’re right,” she said, slowing her pace as they approached my door, “I’m worried about him, dear.” “What makes you say that?” he asked curiously. “I don’t know, but he didn’t seem like himself the last time we visited,” she continued, concern filling her voice, “He barely responds to our questions, and looked almost completely removed from the world around us. What if it’s because of us? What if he overheard of the other night? What if he gets so upset over this that he starts hurting himself?!” “Woah, calm down there, honey,” Dad said, pulling her into a hug as she hyperventilates, “After all we’ve taught him so far, he’ll know better than to do that kind of thing to us. Give him a few weeks, and he’ll come around, I’m sure of it.” Mom looks up at him, sniffling yet smiling gratefully, “What would I ever do without you, hon?” “You’d probably be with Buck, that stallion who couldn’t keep his eyes off you in high school,” Dad said, winking slyly as he opened the door and stepped aside for Mom to enter first; She chuckled and walked through, ready to wake me up from my bedside. When she gazed upon my bed, however, she screamed in shock and horror; “What is it?” Dad exclaimed, galloping into the room. "He’s gone!” she cried out and rushed over to my empty bed, setting a waking Riley on the floor as she crossed the room. As soon as Dad crossed the threshold into the room, I jumped down from my hiding place on top of the cabinet and dropped him in a playful tackle; Mom turned on a dime to see the cause of the commotion. “Surprise!” I exclaimed, hugging Dad fiercely with my tackle. “John?!” she shouted, “Wh-What were you doing up there?!” “Sorry for scaring you,” I said, “but I wanted to surprise you and show you my new wings!” I twirled around to display my latest creation. Using the slatted blinds as feathers, I made a crude pair of makeshift wings that could be tied around my wing stubs. They didn’t actually serve any function other than looking cool, of course, but, then again, that wasn’t my reasoning behind making them in the first place. “Well, I never,” Dad stood up, admiring my handiwork, “That’s certainly the most, um – unique pair of wings I’ve ever seen!” Even Riley, who managed to fully wake up, trotted over to see them. “Wow, those look cool, John!” he exclaimed, “Can I have a pair for my Nightmare Night costume?” “Maybe, Riley,” I chuckled, “Oh, and that’s not all!” I added as I found the pull strings from the blinds and gave them a tug. With some help from Doctor Flight, I developed a simple mechanism that allowed the “wings” to fold up along my sides when not on display. “So, whaddaya think?” “They’re beautiful, sweetie,” Mom says sincerely, “But, I don’t understand; last time we saw you, you weren’t quite this…enthusiastic about your injury. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what happened?” “I know, and I’m sorry for potentially causing you two to have a divorce,” I said, glossing over their shocked expressions, “but I’ve finally decided to not let this injury get the better of me. And I owe it all to my new friend, Shiloh!” “Isn’t that the name of the dog from that book series you’ve read?” Dad asked. “Yes, but it’s also the name of my new friend!” I explained, opening the cabinet to let the kitten out, who hobbled up to my parents and snuggles into their legs. “Oh my!” my Mom exclaimed, though more out of surprise and not necessarily shock or anger, “Where did he come from?” “He was just outside my window there,” I explain, pointing, “When I saw he was missing a leg, I couldn’t let him stay stranded, so I brought him in and made a new leg for him!” I point to his makeshift hind leg, which everypony marvels over for its simple yet effective construction. “I thought, well, if I could make a new leg for Shiloh,” I continued, “then why not a new pair of wings for me? So, I spent the entire evening making these!” “It’s true,” a voice suddenly came from behind me, and when I turned around, Doctor Flight himself was standing in the doorway, “Though, I made sure he went to bed at a reasonable time, of course.” “You helped me make these, too!” I said enthusiastically. “Oh, please,” he chuckled lightly, “I simply offered my limited knowledge on basic mechanics, but John here’s the one who built it all,” he said, addressing my parents now, “He really seems to have a knack for this kind of stuff, Mom and Dad. Best not to let it go to waste,” he added, winking. “Certainly not,” Dad said as he talked to Doctor Flight regarding some particulars about my condition while Riley played with Shiloh. All the while, Mom couldn’t take her eyes off of me, but it at least seemed that hope and pride were in her gaze. When I asked her about it, she simply sighed, “Oh sweetie, we couldn’t be prouder of you,” she said, pulling me into a heartfelt hug with tears in her eyes. “And don’t think for a second that you’ve caused us any grief,” she said, “There are some things we’ll need to work out, but we’re still as much of a family now than we were before all of this.” I smiled, tears starting to form in my own eyes, “Thanks, Mom,” was all I could say at that moment. And with that, we enjoyed the rest of our visit that day, relishing in my newfound enthusiasm and vigor. I can’t remember exactly what we did, but I vividly remember that, at some point during their visit, I received my cutie mark. > Chapter 5: Epilogue > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10 years later.... “There, that should do it!” I exclaim as I finish unpacking the last box of knick-knacks and organizing them upon the mantle. Once that is done, I walk over to my sofa and sit down to relax, taking in the surroundings of my new home. It’s not much to brag about, I suppose, just a one-bedroom expanded bungalow with a simple kitchen and ample space for a small living room. I say expanded, though, because the entire back half of the house and addition off the side is one big, empty warehouse space, where I intend to set up my shop. After all the tension of moving from Vanhoover to Ponyville, I can’t believe I’m actually going to become the town’s first official blacksmith shop and prosthetic limb pioneer! I take a short walk out back to the warehouse, thinking about all the equipment I’ll need and the number of ponies’ lives I’ll improve once I start my business up. As I trot over to another short stack of boxes and start to unpack them, a flash of gray streaks out from behind the boxes, followed by a larger streak of orange. I chuckle as I call out, “Shiloh! Leave that poor mouse alone!” Shiloh, my ten-year-old orange-tabby cat, pauses and looks at me before looking longingly back at the mouse. “Come on, we’ve still got work to do, bud,” I say as he walks back over to me and rubs his head against my legs. Just as I take the first item out of the first box, however, I suddenly hear a voice coming from my left. “Wow, dude, this place looks awesome!” the voice of my colthood friend says. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in!” I say with surprise and delight, “How are ya, Jake?” I ask as we exchange our signature hoofshake. “I’m good, I was in the area and thought I’d stop by to see how you’re getting on,” he says, looking around, “Feel like you’re ready?” “I think so,” I say, “Ready as I can be, I guess.” “Dude, don’t sound so unsure of yourself, you’ll be great!” he says encouragingly, petting Shiloh as he purrs contently, “I mean, just look at what you did to his leg! If this or your wings don’t say that you’re ready, then I don’t know what will.” “Fair point,” I say, briefly flexing my wings. In the years since my accident, I studied all I could about quantum mechanics and went to school for mechanical engineering, during which time that I developed my first official prototype for a pair of fully-functional mechanical wings. After several years of perfecting my design and making improvements, I created the pair of wings that I wear now, made from a blue-metal alloy to match my coat and full articulation to allow for maximum lift and agility. Not only that, but I’ve also improved upon Shiloh’s prosthetic leg, which now has as much movement and flexibility of a natural leg. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I say, “If anypony should open a business like this, then I guess I’m best qualified.” “Absolutely. Hey, think they could use a little tune-up race after your move?” Jacob asks cheekily, “How about a quick sprint to Sugarcube Corner, loser pays?” “Uh, I wouldn’t get too cocky there,” I say teasingly, “After all, I’m not the only cripple here, remember?” I add, pointing to the braces along the back of his own wings. “Wow, cheap shot, there Darkblaze!” he exclaims, “Now you’re in for it!” he adds as he trots out to my front lawn, waiting for me. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this,” I sigh to myself, “Come on, Shiloh!” I say as I trot back into the house and locate the special harness I made for Shiloh whenever I go flying. He obediently sits still while I strap him in; once I make sure he is secure, I trot out through the front door. Jacob is already there, stretching his wings in preparation for our race. “You sure you can keep up while carrying him?” Jacob asks jokingly. Once I made my wings, Jacob immediately challenged me to a race; since I was not fully accustomed to them yet, he won by a mile. Since then, he has been winning more of our races than he used to, but Ive managed to keep pace with him as I grew into my wings. “Why don’t you just worry about your own self while you’re busy eating my air!” I say, and after a quick three-second countdown, we shoot into the skies, ready to seize yet another win from the other.