She was the only one.

Pinkie Pie frowned at her plain, wingless flank. Every day she'd expected to see a brand new bunch of feathers, and every day she was disappointed. She still had the same boring hide she'd been born with, and she didn't know why.

Pinkie hopped off her bed and pulled open the curtains. The morning sun flapped its wings and flew over the horizon. Nopony walked in the streets because they all flew overhead. They flew with their wings—wings Pinkie didn't have.

Pinkie sighed and pulled the curtains shut. Not even the cheery pink fabric with the blue and yellow balloon pattern could cheer her up. Often times she'd rub it in her face and giggle at its musty scent, but not today. She couldn't muster her usual cheerfulness today.

With a sigh, Pinkie entered her bathroom and looked herself in the mirror. Her mane lacked its normal poofiness and hung limp at her side. It looked the way she felt: droopy. She was half-tempted to go straight back to bed, but there was a town full of ponies out there that needed cheering up—not that they needed any cheering up; they were far too excited over their wings—wings Pinkie didn't have. How could Pinkie know how exciting wings were if didn't have any? She frowned.

“I'm going to see Twilight about this,” Pinkie said to her reflection as she brushed her teeth.

“Twilight cannot fix me.” Pinkie's reflection scowled as she brushed her teeth. Her reflection made a show of brushing twice and only on her left side, making a mockery of Pinkie.

“But, she knows a lot. If anypony—”

“I'm obviously not special enough—duh.” Pinkie's reflection rolled her eyes and walked off.

Pinkie Pie stared blankly at the blank mirror. She spat out her toothpaste and stormed off. Why was she brushing her teeth anyway? She hadn't even had breakfast yet.

Downstairs in the diner, the room was vacant save for shadows.

“Good morning, Pinkie,” a shadow said.

Pinkie looked up to see Mr. Cake flying above her. He and Mrs. Cake were hovering in the air and doing all of their baking with their orange and blue magics. Their foals were cradled in the chandelier and all of the chairs and tables were hovering off the ground and out of reach—where ponies with wings could use them.

“Mr. Cake, why is everything in the air?” Pinkie asked.

The large orange stallion with the square jaw flapped his wings and loomed above her. “Everything's better in the air,” he said. “Why fly down when we can have everything we like up here?”

“But I'm down here. Are you saying you don't like me anymore?” Pinkie asked. Her eyelids drooped and her eyes felt watery.

“I'm sure we'll like you just fine once you get your wings.”

“Wha-what?” Pinkie's ears drooped too and tears ran down her cheeks. “Why do I need wings? Why can't I be special the way I am?”

Mr. Cake scratched his mane. “Well, it's just that—”

“Now dear, can't you see that you're upsetting the poor thing?” A portly blue mare flew over and nudged her husband out of the way. “Let's not talk about wings right now and have breakfast instead. You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Mrs. Cake pointed at a plain white cake sitting on a silver platter on the floor in the middle of the room. It hadn't been there a moment ago.

Pinkie walked over and sniffed at it. It looked and smelled like an ordinary vanilla cake, but something seemed off. Ignoring the fact that cake is terrible breakfast food, Pinkie looked up to see numerous other cakes floating in the air. Any one of those she might have liked better.

Pinkie Pie pointed at her cake. “Is something wrong with this one?”

Mrs. Cake shrugged, which was easy for her to do because she was flying. She could move her legs however she liked without having to worry about falling over. “We don't want it anymore. It's been on the ground.”

“But I'm on the ground!” Pinkie couldn't restrain her tears and ran out the bakery crying. She meant to tear through the empty streets, but her legs felt sluggish and her gallop was more of a canter, nay, a trot. Pinkie walked alone. She could hear voices of the winged ponies above her, but they weren't interested in the earth pony. She couldn't be their friend without wings.

Pinkie walked up to Twilight's library and rapped on the door. “Twilight, it's me, Pinkie. I don't know if I can take it any longer. I want to know why I don't have wings. I-I really need my wings. Please, can you fix me?”

The door creaked open, and a shadow greeted her. “Oh, it's you.” The lavender unicorn with wings landed on the ground in front of her. She made a face as if she'd stepped in something. “You might as well come in. I have your answer, but you won't like it.”

Pinkie Pie stepped inside. The shelves were lined with books as they always were, but the furniture was all on its side, on the left wall. The rug was draped on the table like a tablecloth. Twilight walked up the wall and rummaged in a cabinet. She pulled out a mass of wires which snaked through the air and wrapped around Pinkie Pie. They had numerous lights on them, but none of them were lit.

“What is this?” Pinkie asked. She tugged at the wires. They were too snug and constricted her breathing.

“It's my wing-readiness meter. It measures how ready you are for wings.”

“Why aren't any of the lights on? Is it working?”

“Oh, it's working all right; you're a zero, Pinkie Pie.”

“Wha-what!? How can you say that? How can you be so cruel?” Once again, her eyes felt wet with tears.

“It's not me who's cruel, Pinkie. It's the universe. Spike was upset too when I first measured him.”

“Spike?” Pinkie looked around the room. She didn't see him. The wires and lights fell off her body. They weren't doing her any good anyway.

“I'm up here, Pinkie.” Spike did the backstroke in the air on his leathery dragon wings. “I was upset because they were taking so long to come in, but I finally got them today. Aren't they amazing?”

“But, how can you have wings? You aren't a pony.”

“I'm a dragon. All dragons get wings, silly.” Spike fanned his wings and stretched them out to their full size. “Seriously, though, these things are great. I feel like I should celebrate somehow.”

“Oh, you mean like a party?” Pinkie asked.

“A party! Of course.” Spike scratched his chin. “I wonder which cloud I should have my party on?”

“C-c-c-” Pinkie stammered, unable to say the 'c'-word.

“We can't have a wing party on the ground,” Twilight said. “That would be silly.”

Pinkie let loose a torrent of tears and walked, not ran, out of Twilight's library. Outside, she rubbed the tears from her eyes and looked at the sun lazily flapping its wings to rise higher in the sky. Next to it, the moon was trying to fly up too.

Pinkie glared at it. “Moon, what are you doing? It's daylight! You can't be out now.”

The moon yelped in surprise and vanished beneath the horizon.

Pinkie held her head up with a smug expression. Silly moon, it was always trying to sneak in when it wasn't supposed to.

Pinkie's smile faded when she spotted a rainbow tail hanging from a low-flying cloud. “Rainbow Dash! It's me, Pinkie! Do you want to come down and hang out for a while?”

“Huh?” The cloud vanished in a puff and Rainbow Dash flew down in front of her. She hovered off the ground and didn't land. “What's up? Oh right—not you.” Dash snickered at her own bad joke. Pinkie felt like she'd been punched in the gut.

“Uh, Dash, you look different since you got your wings.”

“What? You mean this?” The cyan pegasus tapped on her unicorn horn. “Yeah, it's pretty cool. If you thought I was awesome before, just wait until you can see what I can do now.” Dash's wings glowed with magical light. Her aura couldn't decide what color it wanted to be and it shimmered through the different hues of the rainbow.

“That is pretty—”

“I know, right? Check this out!” Rainbow Dash shot up in the sky leaving a contrail of pigment behind her. She tore through the sky so fast that she left auroras in her wake.

Pinkie Pie spun in circles on the ground. “Dash! Dash!” She flopped up and down and frowned. “Dash, I have no wings! I can't hang out with you up there.” It was no use. Rainbow Dash couldn't hear her, and Pinkie couldn't fly. She had no wings.

A tumbleweed rolled through the street in front of her, but it got caught in an updraft and it spiraled away into the sky. Pinkie watched as it was snagged by a blue aura and brought in front of a flying white unicorn. “Idea!” Rarity sang. The sky was suddenly full of tumbleweeds, tumbleweed dresses, and tumbleweed hats.

“Rarity! It's me, Pinkie. I-I'd like to try one of those on, I guess.”

Rarity kept humming to herself. She was too busy being inspired by her tumbleweed dress line to notice the last earth pony in existence. Pinkie groaned. Maybe she should have stayed in bed, after all.

“No, no. I can can still have fun. Applejack works on the farm. All her trees live on the ground. There's no way she'll fly away on me.”

Confident of her plan, Pinkie strode over to Sweet Apple Acres. Her jaw dropped when she saw the holes in the ground. There were no ponies; there were no trees; there was nothing there. Rows upon rows of holes grew into healthy-looking empty spaces containing the places where the trees used to be.

“Howdy, Pinkie. I almost didn't see ya down there.”

Pinkie Pie slowly looked up to see Applejack flying overhead. All of her trees had grown huge fern-like branches that they were flapping to stay in the air. “Your trees too? How-why are your trees flying!? How is that even possible?”

“It was so much trouble working on the ground, now that I have wings, that I had Apple Bloom mix up a potion to give 'em wings. It worked like a charm too. Everything she does is perfect, now that she has wings. Everypony with wings is always perfect.”

“I-can I have some of that potion? I want wings too.”

“Sorry, sugarcube, but you're not a tree. It won't work on you.”

“Aw.” Pinkie frowned. “I don't suppose you'd like to fly down and play for a while? I'm feeling pretty lonely right now.”

Applejack frowned. “Sorry, but I have too many chores to do. You have no idea how hard it is to pick the fruit from flying trees.”

“Wait—if it's harder then—oh, nevermind.” Pinkie stomped a hoof in annoyance. “Applejack, please, don't go. You're the only one who's really talked to me so far. Twilight made me cry, Rainbow Dash flew off in ten seconds flat, and Rarity wouldn't even listen to me!”

“Rainbow Dash?” Applejack glanced up at the lights dancing in the sky. “I guess that explains the aurora rainborealis. But really, Pinkie, Ah don't have time. Why don't you talk to Fluttershy? She's... really different now that she has her wings, but Ah'm sure she'd be willing to spend some time with a poor wingless creature like you. She's kind like that.”

“I-I...” Pinkie Pie was really hurt by Applejack's condescending words. She dragged her hooves and walked away without saying goodbye.

The day turned to night as the moon rose—

“Moon! What are you doing!? It's too early for night! Go back where you belong!”

The moon let out a muffled curse as it plummeted back below the horizon. Daylight resumed.

Pinkie pointed a hoof at the sky. She narrowed her eyes into little daggers. “I'm watching you,” she warned.

The moon did not attempt to return, and Pinkie resumed her journey. She had to avoid tripping over the holes in the ground. She could have walked around the farm, but she wanted to save time since she was unable to run.

Fluttershy's cottage was surrounded by numerous flowers in bloom. They shifted and cycled as she walked past them. She was sure she saw some marigolds, hydrangea, and even heart's desire at one point. Pinkie knocked on the door.

“Oh, hello there, Pinkie.” Fluttershy stuck her head out. She looked the same to Pinkie—no unicorn horn.

“Fluttershy! Am I glad to see you. I've been having such rotten luck today and all I want is somepony to play with but everypony has wings and I don't and it makes me sad that I can't join them and I don't want to be sad but nopony wants to take the time to be with me because I'm different and I don't want to be different but I can't help it.” Pinkie took in another breath to keep talking. “I don't know why but I've been singled out by the universe to be special in a way that makes me not special at all. I wouldn't mind really, I mean, I do want wings for the sake of wings, but I'd rather have wings so I wouldn't be isolated from everypony else. I know you can't help but it's good to talk to you and I'd appreciate it if you'd hang out with me so we could have fun. I'm sorry for rambling but I'm glad you, at least, still look normal.”

“Um, normal, right.” Fluttershy blinked. She had a glazed look on her face.

Pinkie wasn't even certain if Fluttershy had been listening. She drooped her head and looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Fluttershy? Won't you come out and play with me?”

“Um, well, if it means so much to you...”

Pinkie's face lit up with hope, but then Fluttershy stepped outside, and kept stepping outside, and stepped outside some more, and more... Her body was long, like a worm, and she had numerous legs like a centipede. Between each pair of legs was a set of wings, and each wing was different. She had feathered wings, bat wings, dragon wings, butterfly wings... all in all, she must have had a hundred different pairs of wings. They opened up along her seemingly-infinitely-long back like a wave traversing the ocean and Flutterpede took off to twist and snake through the sky. She got too caught up in the sheer joy of flight to remember the earth pony down below.

Pinkie Pie was too shocked to be upset that she'd been left in the dust, alone, on the ground, again. She wanted to have wings, but not that many wings.

“Now what?” Pinkie kicked at a pebble on the ground. “All of my friends have abandoned me. I truly am alone.” She teared up but a thought occurred to her. “Wait, Twilight didn't fly off. I ran out on her. I-I guess, if she's the only one left...”

Pinkie tried to muster enthusiasm, but she couldn't. With a sigh, she walked back towards the library. She had nothing better to do anyway. As she walked, a ray of light illuminated a small thatch house. It grew a pair of wings and a chimney-horn and flew off. “Great, even the background scenery is getting its wings before me.”

Pinkie looked up at the library built into the tree and something felt off about it to her. Something was bugging her. “Wait a minute—the library was destroyed when Tierk attacked.”

Pinkie blinked and the library was reduced to rubble. Its blackened, charred husk was still smoldering. She walked up and used her hooves to sift through the ashes. She hit something solid, and she pulled out a picture of herself and her friends in a group hug. The picture had been taken against a starry moon-lit background. Wait, no it hadn't.

Pinkie frowned. “Moon. You're not supposed to be there. Go away.”

The moon quavered but stubbornly remained. “Pinkie, you don't understand. I'm trying to help you,” it said.

Pinkie scowled. She twisted her lip and narrowed her eyes. “I said, 'Go away!' ”

“But, Pinkie—”

“Now!”

“That's it. I'm waking my sister!”

Pinkie slammed the picture on the ground. The glass shattered in a thousand pieces. The moon, and everything else, was gone. She felt sad. She'd broken the sole remaining reminder of her happy times with her friends. Pinkie couldn't take it anymore. She buried her head in her forelegs and sobbed.

“Look who's a looser.”

“What?” Pinkie looked up to see a clod of lint mocking her with its lint-wings. It wore a party hat but it wasn't being festive at all. “Sir Lintsalot? What are you doing here?”

“He's mocking the useless earth pony. That's what he's doing.” A sack of flour with party streamers for wings hovered in the air.

“Madame le Flour? You too?” Pinkie asked.

The sack of flour puffed out a cloud of dust. “Oh, pu-leeze, Get with the program. Nopony likes you anymore. You're worse than zero.”

“But—”

The lint ball wrapped a wing around the bag of flour. “Come dear, let us depart. We don't want to be seen conversing with the worthless peasant, now do we?”

“Quite right, my dear. Ta-ta.”

Pinkie groaned as they flew off. “This sucks. Not even my creepy imaginary friends want to associate with me anymore. I-wait a minute. Where is Twilight right now, anyway?”

Pinkie looked up and saw the large crystalline castle. “Of course, the box of harmony grew into a building. All of my friends must be in the fortress of friendship right now. I bet they're having so much fun in there. I can't wait to join them!”

Pinkie Pie walked over to the towering structure because she couldn't run. It grew ever taller as she got closer. She could see hundreds of ponies flying up to the balcony and going inside. Voices came down from above full of glee. Streamers and confetti wafted down in the breeze.

Smiling, she walked up to the base of the structure and—her heart stopped. There was no door. She flailed her legs against the glassy structure, but it did no good. The wall was too slick to climb, and no noise she made could be heard far above.

“Guys? Guys! Let me in, please, let me up there! I'll do anything! Please, don't leave me like this—don't leave me alone! Don't leave me down here!” It was no use. Nopony heard her. The party continued on without her.

Pinkie curled up and resumed sobbing.

The sun flared. Pinkie winced at the light. A large, regal figure swooped down from the sky to land before her. Pinkie composed herself and stood up so she could bow. “Princess Celestia! What are you doing here?”

“Pinkie, you know you don't have to bow anymore. We're equals now.”

“What? Why would you say that? You're a magical alicorn princess—one of the first! You rule Equestria. I'm just some useless earth pony.”

“Oh? Oh, my.” Pinkie was indeed an earth pony. Celestia swiveled her head to look at the scenery. Strange, pulsating rainbow hues crisscrossed the sky. Flutterpede snaked through the air in huge loops, a house flew by on thatch wings. The impenetrable fortress of friendship loomed overhead and cast them both in shadow. “Pinkie, you are anything but useless.”

“But—”

“It'll make sense when you wake up. Pinkie, you shouldn't shut Luna out of your dreams like that. She can help you much better than I can.”

“What? I'm not dreaming. If I were dreaming I'd be covered in whip cream.”

“Hmm...” Celestia seemed about to argue that point, but she shook her head. “I have work to do, and so do you. When you dream, it isn't always sugar and frosting. With a dream like this, your mind is trying to tell you something. If it still bothers you after you're awake, you know you can always talk to us.”

“But—”

“Wake up, Pinkie.” Sunlight blinded her.

***

Pinkie Pie awoke with a start. She panted from the shock. She rubbed her eyes as the spots faded from them. The crystalline walls of her bedroom were unfamiliar to her, and it took a while for her to register that this was her new home. It had been a long time since she'd had such a vivid, rememberable dream. Her mind was trying to tell her something? But what?

Slowly, carefully, she felt at her forehead. Her horn was indeed still there. She threw off the covers and stretched out a wing. Some of her feathers had gotten twisted while she'd tossed and turned at night. She took the time to straighten them out with her gums. Her other wing would need preening too, but she could tend to that later.

She hopped out of bed and walked over to the balcony. Her dream—she'd rather not think about it just yet. Her new home, of course, was the crystalline castle that had sprung up from the box of harmony after Tirek's defeat. It was only fitting that Ponyville's princess should live there. She looked down from far above at all of the ponies walking in the streets. Pegasai, unicorns and earth ponies alike all went about their ordinary 'wingless' lives.

She was the only one...