On Wings Of Fire

by Wings Of Gold

First published

Adolescence can be a turbulent time for any filly, but with Spitfire the world burns.

A teenage Spitfire must find her way through the turbulence of youth. Finding a path she can make her own, learning that if you play with fire long enough.

You will get burned.

Haunted

View Online

The rain poured outside hellishly as razor-sharp winds tore across Cloudsdale at record speeds. The clouds above pitch black with bolts of blue streaking across the horizon violently. It was a storm that Equestria would not forget for years to come, a terrible night full of loss and tragedy.

A humble home built amongst the heavens out of sturdy clouds and a wooden base. The dwelling swayed side to side harshly as the storm threatened to rip the house off its foundation. Within a frazzled and soaked pegasus clung to her filly desperately as the winds began to accelerate outside.

Her husband dashed about the creaking floors of the household trying with all his might to prevent the boarded-up windows and doors from shattering. The child screamed with a flood of tears down her rosy cheeks, barely old enough to fly, she could only sob.

"It's going to fall!" The male pegasus screamed as he rushed his family to the emergency flight pad located on the back veranda.

"It's too dangerous!!" The mare would scream as her husband tied their child to her with a harness.

The roof ripped off the home as a large funnel cloud moved across the opening violently. The world outside that of devastation and destruction, the only sound audible that of wickedly howling wind.

"Just fly as hard as you can!" He pulled his wife into a passionate embrace as they shared a lingering kiss, his lips breaking to kiss his daughter's forehead.

Without a second thought, both pegasi leaped from the crumbling flight pad and into the pitch-black abyss around them. The winds shredded the feathers off the wings of the mare painfully, her husband quickly shielded her from above as he grunted in pain.

Thunder boomed across the land in an earthshaking echo. A bolt of searing hot lightning crackled next to the stallion as he grabbed his wife out of the current airstream, both caught in a devastating tailspin as they plummeted towards the earth.

Debris of Cloudsdale hailing upon them as the mare felt her backside littered with splinters of wood as she curled into a ball to protect her daughter. Razor-sharp stones pelted the stallion like arrowheads as he forced himself to correct his wife's flight position.

She would scream as her husband tossed her forward away from harm. Her wings extended outward as she caught another airstream to shoot off into the horizon wildly.

Her husband was coated in crimson as his lifeless body plummeted towards the mist-covered ground below, with a sickeningly loud crunch.




Spitfire sprang forward on her bed with a gasp of fear. Her fiery mane of auburn drenched in a cold sweat as dark orange eyes darted around the room frantically. After a few moments, her heart rate began to normalize as she found her bearings within the claustrophobic confines of her room.

The sun hadn't risen yet as the whole city of Manehattan was covered in the calm blue light of the moon. Spitfire knew her day was a long one indeed, the mare rolled out of her wet sheets with a thud as she plopped onto the floor.

With the locomotion of a sloth without a place to be, Spitfire wiggled into a white tee and slung a dark blue jacket over her shoulders as wings extended through thin holes. She didn't see much reason to brush her mane, so she just let it spring up where it may.

The young pegasus cantered down the dark hallway towards the kitchen. She had a new brew of apple-flavored coffee calling her name. Entering the eerily dark room, her golden-colored hoof lit a nearby candle with the strike of a match.

"Going somewhere?" Her mother Stormy Flare spoke up calmly from the nearby table to the right.

Spitfire nearly jumped out of her fur as she bounced back with a loud squeal. "Dear Celestia!" She held a hoof to her chest while it heaved in place.

Stormy simply sipped on a cup of brew without a single word. Those calm collected eyes were able to see right through her daughter like glass, Spitfire was flustered and annoyed as she poured a mug of coffee for herself.

"Going to work, Ma!" Spitfire mumbled under her breath as she dashed a little milk into her blue mug.

"This evening is dinner with the sergeant…" Stormy could hear a loud snort from her daughter's direction.

"I know! To discuss Dad's accomplishments in da bolts!!" Spitfire suddenly lost all appetite for anything this morning before she slid the mug away from herself atop the counter.

"It would just mean the world to me if you could show up." Stormy let her voice enter a slightly different tune, one which was stern but understanding.

"Does it matter? Remembering a few dumb missions doesn't bring back the dead." Spitfire sighed and galloped to the open kitchen window in growing silence.

"Fire?" Stormy spoke in a loving voice from the table.

"What, Ma!?" Spitfire spun around to boop muzzles with her mother who smiled, placing thin wire-framed glasses atop her daughter's snout.

"You can't fly without your glasses." Stormy kissed the cheek of the embarrassed pegasus.

"I can if you'd let me!" She batted her mother away playfully.

"Dinner?" Stormy asked once more with a smile.

"Sure, Ma." Spitfire nodded respectfully before turning to leap out the window in a blur of orange.

The pegasus quickly darted out over the horizon as the world around her began to awaken from its deep slumber. Clouds above formed to promise a beautiful calm day, the sky now a lovely translucent blue as the sunlight basked the city in a new light.

Thoughts of the evening were a distant memory for the moment as Spitfire swung low to the roads below to catch a few glimpses of the new billboards just put on display. The gust from her wings blew the manes back of a few socialites caught in her path.

With a light giggle, she was on her way to work, the day couldn't begin for real until she was being clocked for a hoof full of bits.