Flight.

I remember it like it was just yesterday.

It’s a thing that we pegasi hold to us dearly.

It’s the main reason why we live.

Without our wings, we would be nothing but earth ponies…

...not that being an earth pony is a bad thing.

Anyway, I always identify flight when I first joined the Wonderbolts.

Yes, the prestigious flight group that is known across the country, is the team I joined.

I know, it’s a weird place to identify flight with.

Most pegasi actually identify flight when they first began to lift off the ground.

I, on the other hoof, live with the wind.

I didn’t need to remember it in order to be sane.

I just needed to know that I had the wings that could make me soar in the sky.

When I was younger, I was the fastest pegasus on the block; the other boys in the neighborhood couldn’t even catch me.

I was the fastest, the fastest of them all.

They couldn’t even pass me.

They couldn’t even beat my times.

I was always ahead by several minutes, sitting at the finish line and staring at them with a hardened gaze.

I couldn’t even believe how quick I was.

I was the best...

...and I wanted to prove it.

At the Wonderbolt tryouts, I was up against the best of the best in the entire land.

Many who came here were from all corners of Equestria.

Manehatten, Hoofshire, Appleloosa, Ponyville were just the few among the many locations of the competitors who were competing.

It was great to know there were several who had the same dream…

…the same destination…

...and the will to test one’s internal and external strengths to their limits.

I was just so hyper!

I couldn’t handle the excitement.

The hype was real...

When it was my turn to perform, all eyes were set upon me, their gazes glued to my form.

I was magnificent at that age.

My body made stallions drop to the floor, their jaws dislocated and their noses bleeding.

According to them, I was hot.

I was scorching hot.

Any stallion would want me in their bed.

The thing is, I didn’t want them.

I wanted to win.

When they said “Go.”, I shot off that stage in less than seconds, causing many bad mane days for many mares who were onlookers of the event.

I remember when I went for my first trick, I looked over to my right to see an angry mare glaring at me, her mane puffed up and tangled in knots that I didn’t know were even possible.

I felt bad for her, but even worse for the stallion who sat next to her.

He had to deal with her moaning and groaning throughout the whole entire tryout.

I bet you he was either married, on a date, or simply a friend of hers.

And if he was the first two options, he better dip out quick.

Drama queens aren’t good flyers.

Anyway, my first trick was pretty simple. I needed to show my speed and my ability to turn on a dime.

I tilted my wings at the sky, my projectory being the fluffy clouds above.

After I reached a certain peak, I immediately changed direction, my form now traveling westward.

I couldn’t exactly pin how performing this part of the move felt, but it felt like I was swimming in a pool.

I was relishing in the air around me.

Then, I realized, I had the act to perform.

I had to act fast.

As quick as I changed direction, I quickly angled my wings for a straight dive, something that most Wonderbolts had trouble doing.

Fortunately, I wasn’t like most flyers.

I was ace.

I was the fire.

I was Spitfire.

I engaged in this act, my wings pointed downward to begin my descent.

I shot straight down, my speeds were like a speeding bullet.

I was going fast.

I knew I had very little time to act upon.

I couldn’t let this first maneuver go to waste.

So I didn’t.

I acted upon the move, slowly angling my wings in a three hundred and fifteen degree angle.

I didn’t even know what I was going to do next.

I simply “winged” it.

I did several loops, causing many onlookers to applaud or say “Wow.”.

I did corkscrews, slow curves, barrel rolls, all the basic maneuvers a Wonderbolt should know.

After a few more basic maneuvers, I was ready for my final trick.

My Blazing Fire.

I was going to call it something else, but I realized I needed to call it after something or someone important in my life.

Blazing Fire, my father, who was a former Wonderbolt enthusiast, was the pony I dedicated my move to.

He was a stallion who collected every action figure…

...photo…

 ...newspaper article…

...video clipping…

...fanmade clothing...

...and wrote any story about the performers of the group.

I thought that he deserved a place as one of the best fans the Wonderbolts has ever had.

I just wish he was there to see my tryouts…

At the time of my tryouts, my father was missing.

A few days before the tryouts, my father went to a fancy dinner getup with a couple of friends from Hoofshire.

I told him to be careful and stay safe…

Did he not do what I said?

Should I have said that I loved him?

Why did I not say that…

...I loved him?

I could’ve said it…

But…

I just didn’t think he would be gone…

So I dedicated a move to him two days before the tryouts.

The Royal Guard said they would send guards to Hoofshire to investigate on the disappearance of my father.

I don’t know what happened to him, but I didn’t want him to be dead.

As I practiced this move, I began to be more worried about him.

Then, at the tryouts, I performed the move, thinking of him as I did it.

The tight corkscrews…

The burning of the wings…

The tears I shed as I did the move…

All this and more, I did for my father.

To this day, I still don’t know if my father is out there, alive and well.

I did achieve my dream though.

I’ve been in the Wonderbolts for the longest time and yet, I don’t feel satisfied.

Should I try and search for my father?

Yes, I should.

But where should I start?

Should I try to remember my flight again?

Should I try and find our secret hiding spot and…

No.

He’s probably dead.

He would’ve written to me by now.

He would’ve written multiple letters, just like he usually does.

It wouldn't matter where I was.

Even when I was sitting on his lap, he would write to me.

Even if I was at school, he would write to me.

Even if I was living in Canterlot, he would write to me.

Now, it's been several years since the disappearance.

I live in the Wonderbolt Headquarters and I am Captain of the squad.

Yet, I’m still waiting for that letter.

I still can't let go.

Daddy…

I miss you.

Where are you?