and she fell (wild blue yonder)
“Off we go, into the wild blue yonder,
Flying off, into the sun!
They’ll all run, soon as they hear our thunder,
At ’em lads, ’til the day's won!
Down we dive, then we attack from under,
Off with one helluva roar!
We’ll come with fame, or go down in flames. Hey!
Long live the Equestrian Air Corps!"
It seemed like there wasn’t a place you could go in Cloudsdale without hearing that song. It was a song left over from the glory days of the old guard, when the Wonderbolts were more military than show. Even in the solitary atmosphere of the Cloudsdale cemetery she couldn’t escape it as it played in the back of her head.
When other ponies talked about Cloudsdale, most were surprised to find that Cloudsdale had a cemetery. It wasn’t like the cemeteries based on the ground that earth ponies and unicorns used. Fleetfoot always found that fact interesting.
From the funerals of earth ponies and unicorns, she learned that those groups mostly preferred burials and coffins. But the idea of spending eternity in a coffin shocked her.
After a pegasus died, it was tradition for them to be cremated. Then their ashes would be released, letting them take one last flight before they moved on to… whatever came after life. That very thought sent a shudder down Fleetfoot’s back. She'd been thinking about death a lot lately.
The cemetery was dotted with markers, made of enchanted materials like stone and wood, and in many shapes and sizes. They bore the names of those that passed on, who spread their wings and faded away into the sky they loved. Or something, Fleetfoot scoffed. She always thought it just sounded… sappy.
“Pegasi, flyin’ to bring the thunder
Flying off, into the blue
Hooves and wings, blasting the world asunder
Where it ends, nopony knew!
Hearts and minds, dreaming of skies to conquer,
Take the air, and then take more!
With clouds above and the ground beneath,
Long live the Equestrian Air Corps!”
Fleetfoot wandered through the cemetery, making her way through the paths in between the gravestones. She was dressed in her formal uniform, a deep blue dress coat over a light blue shirt, complete with a row of medals over her heart and a white, black brimmed hat on her head.
She stopped in front of three large monuments near the cloud cemetery’s edge. A frown formed on her muzzle. She had been here when the first was constructed, and she returned when the second was built. And now there were three.
The funeral itself passed quickly for her. She didn’t remember much of it, other than it was like all the other funerals she had been to. The pegasi had two ceremonies: one traditional one with a wake, eulogies, and remembrance speeches, and the ceremonial release of the ashes. The last flight, it was called. She had learned all of this at her first funeral, that of her mother.
A chill ran down her spine as she approached the crowd gathered in front of the monuments. There were pegasi in black suits and dresses, and dotted in the crowd were deep blue uniforms, the same as the one she wore.
“Here’s a toast, it’s no boast,
To know we own the vastness of the sky
To the end we'll fight onward, never afraid to do or die.
We’ll remember those who never got old
Then down we soar to give them hell in blue and gold
Here’s a toast to the ones we boast, the Equestrian Air Corps!”
Fleetfoot blinked, fighting to keep the song out of her head. Focus, she chided herself. It was a nice song, but it was one that usually came with fanfare and cheering, with large brass bands and parade days. A song for ceremony and celebration. There was a reason they didn’t play it at a funeral.
Avoiding eye contact, she went to the base of the monuments. Each monument bore the same inscription, the Wonderbolts’ motto. “Who flies, lives. Who lives, dares. And who dares, wins,” she said to herself.
“Please, I’ve heard enough of that for a lifetime.”
Fleetfoot’s ear twitched as a voice chuckled from behind her. She turned around to see Soarin’, dressed smartly in uniform with his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, a habit he picked up from his predecessor.
“Soarin’,” Fleetfoot said. “Nice to see you.”
Soarin’ smiled in response. “Of course, it’s always nice to see me. Wish it was under better circumstances though.”
“Don’t we always,” she replied, turning back to the monument.
Soarin’ walked to her side, following her gaze. “Aw, come on, Fleety. Don’t be such a downer.”
After all these years, Fleetfoot grumbled to herself, Soarin’ still loved butchering names.
“A downer? Soarin’, we’re at a frickin’ funeral.”
The pegasus nodded with a sad smile. “I know.”
“Then what are you saying,” Fleetfoot snapped back. “That I should be happy? Do you think this is a joke?”
Soarin’ took off his sunglasses, clipping them onto his uniform shirt. “Death is nothing to joke about, Fleety. Even I know that. What I’m saying is that you’ve been like this for a while now, before the funeral.”
“So?” Fleetfoot rubbed her eyes. “I’m scared of death, okay? When I first heard about it, I didn’t want to believe it. Is that so bad?”
Soarin’ lay a hoof on her shoulder. “Listen. You can be scared of death. I am, Spitfire was, everyone is. But it’s a part of life, even if it’s the end of it. Let me ask you this. If we lived forever, would we do anything?”
Fleetfoot blinked at the question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that if you knew that you were going to live forever, why would you do anything at all? Now, I know Spitfire always said I never did anything, but in the end I had to accept that I wouldn’t be around forever. We all did.”
Fleetfoot just sighed. “So what are you saying? That no matter what we do we’ll run out of time?”
“Well when you put it that way, sure. But time’s all we have. Why waste it? It’s what Spits told the recruits every single morning. It’s what she told me, and it’s what I’m telling you.”
She frowned at the name.
“I miss her too,” Soarin’ said. She winced as he extended a wing and gave her a hug. “But do you get what I’m saying?”
Fleetfoot cast her eyes on the ground. “Sort of. But this isn’t like you, Soarin’. You don’t give philosophy lessons.”
Soarin’ rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. But I think that if you spend your whole life worrying about when things end, you’re never going to get anywhere! Like eating a pie!”
“And there’s the normal Soarin’,” Fleetfoot muttered.
“No, hear me out! Life’s like eating a pie. You know that eventually you’re going to run out of pie, but if you just stay really sad because you’re going to run out of pie, then you miss the joy of eating the pie!” Soarin’ stood proudly with that, a wide smile on his face.
Fleetfoot just chuckled, shaking her head sadly. “Can’t get your mind off of pie for one second.”
Something was still wrong to her. It felt just like old times, where she would sit in the captain’s office after practice, cracking jokes and mocking the new recruits. When Spitfire would rant on about how the higher-ups were trying to screw them and Soarin’ would chime in with a horrible joke. “Do you miss her?”
Soarin’s goofy grin faded. “Of course I miss her. I always have, Fleety. But I had to get on with my life. You were all counting on me. I didn’t just forget her, or stop missing her, but the world still moved on.”
With a defeated sigh, Fleetfoot lowered her head. They did have a point. “Right, sorry. I’m just… having a hard time--”
She felt a hoof on her shoulder. “Trust me,” Soarin’ said. “I know.”
“Does it get easier?” she asked.
“No,” Soarin’ answered. “It never does. And moving on and letting go doesn’t come easier either. Every one hits harder than the last.” He paused, letting out a remorseful sigh before continuing. “You remember what I told you when you became captain? You see the best of the team and the worst of them. But no matter what they think of you, you’re still their friend and they're still your team. And that’s why every loss will hurt. But it’s good, because it means you care. If you lose someone and don’t care...” Soarin’ shuddered as he trailed off.
In the silence, a wind blew through their uniforms, chilling Fleetfoot to the bone.
“It’s like falling,” he finally decided. “When we learn to fly, we’re scared to fall. But even after we fly, we’re still scared to fall. That fear is always there, isn’t it? Especially for the Wonderbolts. But we still fly. We don’t let a fear of falling stop us.”
“But how? Every day I wake up scared that I might just forget her. Or that they’ll forget me. Think about it. Who’ll even know us in ten, twenty years?”
Soarin’ stood silent for a moment. “You won’t be forgotten,” he said. “That’s what tradition is for. It’s why every captain before Spitfire had recruits sing 'Wild Blue Yonder' every morning before PT.”
At the mention of the song, Fleetfoot could almost hear the chorus of giddy recruits, fresh out of the Academy and ready to finally become a Wonderbolt.
“Off we go, into the wild sky yonder,
Keep your wings, level and true!
Streaks of light, flying with bolts of wonder,
Rushing off, into the blue!
Pegasi, guarding our country’s border,
We’ll be there, ready for more!
The fight is on, we’ll carry on,
No, nothing can stop the Air Corps!
Nothing stops Equestria's Air Corps!”
“Yeah. I never understood it at the academy. But I didn’t change it after I became captain,” Fleetfoot said. “You didn’t either.”
“And there’s a reason for that,” Soarin’ replied. “A reason besides boosting morale and camaraderie. It’s tradition. That song is dedicated to every past, present, and future Wonderbolt. It’s why every old 'Bolt gets misty eyes when they hear it. Tradition is always with us. We bring it with everything that we do. And with it we bring along everypony that’s a part of it.” He sighed, staring up at the sky. “You’re not the first pony to ask this. I asked myself the same questions a long time ago. And I’ve given it a lot of thought, but I still don’t know if I’ve got all the answers. But long story short, you won’t be forgotten. Neither will Spitfire.”
“Yeah… I guess. I guess you’re right.” Fleetfoot dried her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “Sorry,” she said absently.
“It’s not wrong to cry at a funeral,” Soarin’ chuckled. “But you know what always helps? A flight.”
A flight sounded good right about now. A chance to spread her wings and set her mind free.
Before she could respond, something caught her eye. The group of ponies was moving away from the three tombstones. The crowd broke, allowing three ponies to advance to the cloud’s edge. A smile fell upon her muzzle. “You go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll be right there. There’s something I have to do first.”
Fleetfoot set off, weaving through the crowd until she ended up near the front. She watched as the three ponies turned to face the crowd. Two were wearing the same dress blues that dotted the crowd. The first shuffled nervously. Her eyes never left the urn that lay on the cloud by her hooves.
“You ready, Cap?” Thunderlane gently nudged her.
Failing to elicit a response, Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat. “Rainbow?”
Rainbow Dash blinked, then adjusted her cap. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Ready.”
Her hesitation made Fleetfoot shake her head and chuckle. It wasn’t like the carefree pegasus to be nervous, but who was she to judge? She hadn’t been much better when she led the ceremony. Still, there was something stirring inside of her as she watched her friends standing on the edge of the cloud. She couldn't quite place the feeling.
Twilight gave a small nod. “Okay. Captain Dash, Lieutenant Thunderlane, shall we proceed?”
Thunderlane nodded, but Rainbow hesitated again. “Uh… Sorry, Twi. It’s just--”
Twilight Sparkle raised a hoof, silencing her friend. “It’s fine, Rainbow. You need to let go. Everyone here does, that’s why we’re here.”
Rainbow took a deep breath, still staring at the urn by her hooves. “I know that. But it’s hard, you know?”
Twilight lay a comforting hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “Rainbow--”
“I remember her,” Rainbow said aloud. “I remember that day, walking onto the stage and shaking her hoof. I remember her looking into my eyes and smiling as she said, ‘Congratulations, Captain.’ And I remember everything she told me about being captain and, and… And I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Hey. She knew what she was doing,” Twilight said. “She made you her lieutenant, didn’t she? She could have picked anypony, but she picked you. She believes in you, Rainbow, and look around.” The mare waved a hoof over the crowd. “She’s still here, with us. In us. We’ll carry on her legacy.” She pointed to the three monuments. “We’ll remember her, just like we remembered Spitfire and Soarin’.”
Rainbow closed her eyes, dropping her head. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s gone, just like they are. Twi, does loss get any easier?”
“I can’t say that it does, Rainbow,” Twilight replied sadly.
Rainbow finally looked up. Her eyes scanned the crowd, seeing the familiar ponies in suits, dresses, and uniforms. Then, she nodded. “Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Let’s do this.”
A hush fell over the entire cemetery as Twilight picked up the urn in her magic. She raised the urn until it was eye level with Rainbow. Rainbow and Thunderlane took a step back and saluted. The uniformed pegasi in the crowd returned the motion, tears in some of their eyes.
“Okay, Captain Fleetfoot,” Twilight said gently. “Time for one last flight.”
Rainbow turned to the crowd and nodded. “Who Flies, Lives. Who Lives, Dares. And Who Dares, Wins,” the uniformed pegasi shouted.
Twilight opened the jar and floated the urn over to the edge of the cloud. “Celestia be with you,” she whispered. The urn tilted, and the ashes flew off into the breeze.
Fleetfoot blinked, then frowned. She remembered now, the long talk with her doctor. The words 'incurable' and 'terminal' hanging in the air like storm clouds. Breaking the news to the team. Stepping down. Closing her eyes for one last time.
"Huh. I'm dead," she said aloud. Fleetfoot looked around, seeing familiar faces walk past her. "I'm dead," she said again.
Turning around, she found Soarin’ standing at her side, a kind smile on his face. "Yeah, I guess you are. But, Fleety, you're still holding on. It's time for you to let go."
Fleetfoot frowned. "But... but what if I don't want to?"
"You have to," Soarin' replied. "That's what this is all about. The memorial service, the release of the ashes, everything. It's about letting go. Not just for the, but for you too. You can be scared. That's fine. I sure was when I passed. But you're not alone. I'll be here, so will Spits. So let go."
She wasn't sure how to feel. Was she supposed to cry? No, she had done enough of that before passing. Should she smile, because the pain was gone? No, it didn't feel right. Fleetfoot closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt her fears and worry melt away. None of it mattered anymore, she realized. She could rest now.
When she looked up, Soarin' was gone. She shot a glance backwards and gazed longingly at the three monuments. At the legacy that she was leaving behind, and the life she had lead. And she remembered her success and her fear, and the things she wished she'd done.
But it didn't matter now, Fleetfoot thought. Because that was in the past. She was gone now. Nothing would change that. Fleetfoot watched as Rainbow stood in front of the monument, speaking with Twilight in a low tone. And she smiled. Because she was proud of what she had done. Proud of the life she lead. And looking back, she realized how trivial her insecurities were. Death was the end. Certainly not for her memory, but for her.
From somewhere behind her, she heard Soarin’s voice calling out to her. “Come on, Fleety. Skies are waiting. You coming or not?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Fleetfoot smiled, bliss filling her. She walked over to the edge of the cloud, staring up at the endless horizons above her. She pulled her cap down so the brim was over her eyes and turned around. The crowd of ponies was talking now, turning their eyes away from the edge and back to the monuments. Nopony was looking in her direction, except for Rainbow Dash. The new captain stared blankly at her as she stood unmoving.
With a broad smile, Fleetfoot saluted her. Rainbow blinked and saluted back, not completely aware of what she was doing. “Thank you,” Fleetfoot whispered. She reared up on her hind legs as the noise died around her. Finding her balance, she looked up one last time and closed her eyes. Fighting the urge to spread her wings, she leaned back. And she fell.
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End.