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Ditz and Spitz: Origin of Derpy

by Poinger

Chapter 7: Part 6: The Amazing Ditzy Doo

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html>Ditz and Spitz: Origin of Derpy

Ditz and Spitz: Origin of Derpy

by Poinger

First published

Derpy is happy with her life, until Spitfire stirs memories of the past they shared...

After Ditzy has a cordial meeting with her dear friend Spitfire, a friend who believes her memory to be damaged, their worlds are changed when their friendship is no longer secret. Ditzy begins to remember things about who she used to be, while another, more sinister force has never forgotten who she was...
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Preview image is © TheParagon and is used with permission.
(http://theparagon.deviantart.com/).

Intro: Muffin Time

As the moon rose over Ponyville, a lone pegasus slowly winged her way toward the outskirts of town. A simple fight cap hid her mane, while a saddle served to hide her cutie mark and camouflage her bright yellow coat. She took the time to enjoy her flight; she often relished slow flight and the opportunity to appreciate the scenery, despite her reputation as a speedster. She recalled it had been fall in Ponyville, not spring, the last time she made this trip. With a grimace she again swore to visit more often, no matter what her schedule was like. She shook her head and focused on her landing as her destination came into view.

The simple, two-story wooden house stood alone on a hill near the outskirts of Ponyville. Though originally a home for earth ponies, it had been adapted, rather clumsily, for pegasi by the addition of a second story door and a small landing pad. Though the home was well maintained, the handypony responsible for maintenance was clearly sub-par: the brown window shutters were noticeably not level and the grey paint was darker in some patches than others, as if extra layers had been applied. The flower garden was colorful, but the normally uniform lines of flowers were a sprawling mishmash of red and yellow blossoms, while the swing on the front porch was slightly lower on one side than the other. Overall it gave the home a warm, lived-in look that belied its state of disrepair.

Spitfire gave a small shiver as she landed in front of the house; as warm and covering as the flight saddle was, it couldn't match the warmth her flightsuit normally provided. She walked up the porch and knocked softly, knowing one of the home's two occupants would be fast asleep by now. The door opened a crack, and a grey pegasus with a platinum blonde mane and two yellow, bidirectional eyes slowly peeked out from behind the door. Her face broke into a wide smile when she saw Spitfire on her porch.

"Spitz! You back for more of my deeelicious muffins?" Ditzy was full of unbridled enthusiasm, though not loud enough to wake her sleeping daughter.

Spitfire nodded and the door opened all the way, her host escorting her to a comfortable seat in the dining room. It was a fairly sparse room, populated by some bookcases, a dining table and a sofa in front of the lit fireplace.

"I know it's been a while, Ditz, sorry. But we were touring across Equestria; between that and the training I just couldn't get away."

Ditzy waved her hoof graciously. "I understand. I'll find muffins, and coffee! Be back soon."

She walked to the kitchen, returning a short while later with a platter sporting two steaming cups of coffee and a plate of muffins. She walked with care, so as not to bump into something and scatter muffins everywhere, as Spitfire knew she was so prone to do. Spitfire had shrugged out of her flight gear and was settling in when Ditzy reentered the dining room.

"Blueberry for my muffin-friend!” She grabbed one off of the platter and took a greedy bite, smiling as she chewed. “Mmmm. They’re not fresh, but they still taste best."

She smiled. Whatever else her friend had forgotten, Ditz always remembered that blueberry muffins were her favorite.

They chatted over the muffins and coffee. Spitfire asked about Ditzy's mailmare job, well-being, and Dinky's schoolwork, while Ditzy asked 'Spitz' about her Wonderbolts career, whether she'd met any special somepony yet, and if she ran across any muffins better than her own in her travels.

Spitfire felt a growing happiness as the evening wore on. She missed this, the quiet little talks with her old friend, but they always ended up making her sad somehow. They always reminded her of just how much Ditzy had forgotten, of how different she was now. She certainly looked happy, but would she have been happier if she was as she used to be?

She sighed. There was no use now in thinking about how things could have been. It was getting late, and she had to be back at the training grounds early tomorrow morning. "Sorry, Ditz, but it's pretty late. I should be heading out." As she started to strap herself into her flight gear, she put her hoof into her saddlebags, and asked Ditzy her ritual question. "Ditz… do you remember who I am?"

Ditzy gave her a look that her voice confirmed was skeptical. "You’re Spitfire. A Wonderbolt! We eat muffins, and talk, and… and hang out together! You’re my best friend." Her look turned quizzical. “You feeling alright, Spitz?” Her ritual response, which Spitfire answered with a sad smile.

She sighed and reached for a different object inside her saddlebags, pulling out a photograph of the two of them in that same dining room. They were leaning against each other, Spitfire staring morosely at an empty muffin plate while Ditzy had her coffee cup teetering precariously on her head. "I’m fine. I almost forgot; the photo from last time, for your book. You should warn me next time you put cider in the muffin mix. It was pretty sketchy flying back home." She set the photo down on the table and walked across the room. "Anyway, I should be back in about five weeks. We only have a couple of events this month. So I'll see you then." She waved a hoof from the door, closed it behind her and took off from the front lawn, quickly fading into the night.

***

Unseen by either mare, a grey unicorn filly with a platinum blonde mane like her mommy's watched with rapt attention from the top of the stairs as Spitfire left, the bad dream which had originally provoked her to head downstairs for her mommy long forgotten. She was ready to bolt back upstairs in an instant; as excited as she was, she knew her mommy wouldn't be happy if she caught her listening. But her mommy was just standing by the door, staring up at the visitor as she disappeared into the night sky. She kept staring for a few minutes before grabbing the photograph off of the table and making her way over to one of the bookcases. After some fumbling, she managed to stick the photo partway behind the cover of a nondescript, thick brown book on the top shelf, then let out a yawn as she grabbed the platter off the table and headed toward the kitchen.

Dinky’s heart raced as she quickly but quietly retreated back to her bedroom. She returned to her bed and feigned sleep, waiting for her mother to retire for the night. Shortly thereafter, she heard hoofsteps on the stairs. As her door creaked open, she held very still and tried to breathe slowly. She heard her mommy whisper “Goodnight, Muffin,” before the door closed again, and the hoofsteps continued down the hall.

About fifteen minutes after hearing her mother's door close, Dinky crept back downstairs, using what little magic skill she had to cast a faint glow from her horn on the bookcase and the precious photo-book. Though she didn't have the magic to get the whole book down, she had enough to pull the photo out of the book and down to her. The photo almost made her giggle before she could stop herself; it looked like the Wonderbolt lady wanted more of Mommy's muffins, which Dinky could certainly understand, while Mommy was being silly with her coffee.

She snuck back upstairs, and carefully placed the photo into her saddlebags with a satisfied smile. She tucked herself back into bed, hopeful that tomorrow at school, maybe some of the other fillies would play with her more if they knew her mommy was not a klutzy pegasus, but that she was cool—that she was friends with a Wonderbolt!

Part 1: Photo Rumors

Dinky sighed as she used her magic to turn her pencil in lazy circles on her desk. She was so super excited to show Scootaloo the picture in her saddlebags! She was a bit shy, and normally when she managed to talk to Scootaloo or her two Crusader friends, the conversation always eventually turned to her mommy, her eyes, and how she kept crashing into stuff. From there, it became an awkward silence that instantly killed any sort of playful mood. She knew if she showed Scootaloo how cool her mommy was, they'd want to talk about her. Then it wouldn't be awkward talking with them and they might even let her play with them. That was, if recess ever came. It was still a long way to go, and Ms. Cheerilee's history lesson was dragging on.

Looking to her right, she saw the orange pegasus seated next to her in the rearmost corner of the class. She was similarly bored, doodling pictures of cutie-marks in the margins of her paper, most of them bearing a remarkable resemblance to Rainbow Dash's.

"Psst… hey, Scootaloo." Dinky was careful to whisper, to avoid drawing the teacher's attention.

Scootaloo was likewise cautious. "What, Dinky?"

"You wanna see something cool?"

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. It better not be another ‘multi-muffin,’ though.” She turned to look at Dinky and thus failed to notice Ms. Cheerilee's focus had shifted from the blackboard to their conversation.

Dinky frowned. How could anypony fail to appreciate her mommy’s double-bun, thirteen-ingredient multi-muffins? She started to use her magic to float the picture out of her open saddlebags toward Scootaloo when she was startled by a rather sharp cry of "Dinky! Scootaloo!" from the front of the room. Startled, she dropped the photo, which fell to the ground face down. They both turned around to see Ms. Cheerilee approach them, giving both of them an admonishing look in turn.

"Talking during class and passing notes?"

Dinky's face paled. "But, Ms. Cheerilee," she pleaded guiltily, "it wasn't a note, it—"

"It doesn't matter. You were both clearly not paying attention."

She reached down to confiscate the offending distraction and took the photograph in her mouth, slowly walking back to the front of the room. As she passed the desks of other fillies and foals, many ducked their heads to look at what was on the photograph. Some of the sports-fan ponies' eyes widened with shock, as did those of a filly duo more interested in celebrity gossip. They quickly turned and whispered to their neighbors before Ms. Cheerilee could continue teaching.

As she was neither a sport-fan pony nor a celebrity gossip, Ms.Cheerilee failed to recognize the importance of the picture she deposited on her desk.

"You will both have to stay inside during recess for breaking the rules. Dinky, you can get this from me at the end of the day. Now, the first gryphon was seen in… "

As she resumed her lesson, the Crusaders turned as one and glared sullenly at Dinky. She slumped in her desk. She was only trying to make friends, but now she'd completely ruined it! Throughout the rest of the lesson and all the way up until recess, the other foals kept shooting curious, sometimes awed glances at her that she didn't even notice in her gloomy daze.

Finally, recess did roll around and the other students left Scootaloo and Dinky alone at their desks, writing alternating lines of "I will not talk during lessons" and "I will not pass things in class" on sheets of paper under Ms. Cheerilee's watchful gaze.

Dinky turned to Scootaloo as she wrote. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

The pegasus stopped writing for a moment, letting her pencil drop as she worked her jaw with a hoof.

“Yeah? Hmmph." She snorted."What was on that picture, anyway? What am I missing recess for?" she inquired, then picked her pencil back up in her mouth.

"It was a picture of my mommy with Spitfire. She came over to visit yesterday, and—"

Scootaloo nearly choked, her pencil falling off her desk with a clatter as she whirled to face Dinky. "YOUR MOM KNOWS SPITFIRE?! YOU'RE KIDDING!"

Ms. Cheerilee looked up from her papers and rounded on her for her sudden outburst. "Scootaloo! Do not shout inside. Back to writing, both of you!"

Scootaloo retrieved her pencil and they both returned to writing. She occasionally glanced over at Dinky, who couldn’t help but notice. “What?”

Scootaloo gave her a long, studious look. “You are kidding... right?”


As the last bell rang and school let out, Ms. Cheerilee called Dinky up to her desk. "Now, Dinky, I trust you won't distract yourself, or other students, with non-school related material again. Save it for after lessons next time, okay?"

"Yes, Ms. Cheerilee."

She gave the filly a small smile as she softened her tone. “I never like to punish students, Dinky, especially ones who are normally so well-mannered and attentive.” She slid the photograph across her desk with a small laugh. “I can see why you wanted to share it though. It certainly is a very funny picture of your mother and her friend."

Dinky's jaw dropped before she caught herself. Of course; Ms. Cheerilee didn't recognize Spitfire without her trademark flightsuit. She herself wouldn't have recognized Spitfire from just the photo if she hadn't overheard her talking with her mommy last night. She levitated the photo back into her saddlebags.

"Ummm… thanks. Bye, Ms. Cheerilee."

"Goodbye, Dinky."

When she exited the schoolhouse, she was rushed by a plethora of the other students.

"Hey uhh… Dinky! Dinky, lemme see it!"

"I didn't get a good look at it. Does your mom really know Spitfire?"

"Can I see it again, Dinky?"

"So, Dinky, how did a feather-head like your mom meet up with Spitfire?"

She had wanted to make some more friends, but this wasn't friends—this was a mob. Overwhelmed by the sudden attention, she began to push her way through the crowd over toward where she saw Scootaloo waiting with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell. Seeing that she wasn't going to show them the photo, after some attempted cajoling the crowd quickly dispersed toward their respective homes. Some went to meet their waiting parents, telling them what had happened with excited voices.

Scootaloo wasted no time once the four were finally alone. "So is it true then, Dinky? Your mom really…"

Silently, Dinky levitated the picture out of her saddlebags again, holding it up in front of Scootaloo. There was a short, stunned silence from the three Crusaders.

"That is so cool!"

"Wow, Dinky! Did you get to meet Spitfire? What was she like?"

"I never woulda reckoned yer mom for knowin' somepony famous like that, Dinky."

They chatted animatedly at her for a while and she answered their questions as best she could, without ever actually denying that she had met Spitfire, before Scootaloo asked a different sort of question.

"Hey, Dinky, could I borrow this to show to Rainbow Dash? I know she'll think it's awesome." Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell rolled their eyes, quite familiar with their friend's desire to impress Rainbow Dash.

“Well, I did get you in trouble earlier, so I guess it’s only fair...” She floated the picture over to Scootaloo’s eager hooves.

Her face lit up. "Thanks sooo much! I'm gonna go show her right now!"

"But, Scootaloo!" Apple Bloom whined, "we were supposed ta go help Fluttershy take care o' the animals after school!"

"Yeah, what will it look like if only the two of us show up? What will she think of us?"

Scootaloo frowned, looking back and forth from the picture to her friends. She ended up fixating on the photo for a few moments, then suddenly brightened. "I got it! Why don't you take Dinky with you? I'll meet you guys at Fluttershy's cottage later."

"Well… that's okay by me. Whaddya say, Dinky?"

"Yes! Uh, I mean, yeah! Sure." Dinky couldn’t help a wide smile as she bounced off with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell, elated that she had managed to make some friends after all.


Rainbow Dash flew back toward her cloud home, thoroughly exhausted but glad to be done for the day. Sure, she could clear the sky in just about ten seconds flat, but adding stuff took a whole new level of effort and delicacy. There was another heavy rain scheduled for the weekend and everything had to be prepared for days ahead of time. Besides the actual cloud moving, there was the planning, the coordination between teams, the weather quality checks… ugh. She just wanted sleep. She was thus less than enthusiastic to see the orange pegasus filly on a scooter heading for her cloud home from the opposite direction. Scootaloo was waving madly, and calling out to her from the distance. As tired as she was, she didn't want to just blow off her number one fan.

"Rainbow Dash! Rainbow Dash!" Scootaloo waved upwards to Dash as the pegasus approached, stopping her scooter sharply. The cyan pegasus landed next to her seconds later.

"Yeah, yeah, I see you. What's up, Scoot?"

"It’s the most exciting thing. Dinky's mom met with Spitfire yesterday! She was here, in Ponyville!"

Dash gave Scootaloo a withering look. "Look, Scoot, I'm tired. I'm in no mood for jokes, especially such poor ones."

Scootaloo frowned indignantly. "It is not a joke. Look!" She dropped her saddlebags off her back, quickly rummaging around inside before coming up with the picture in her hoof. "See?"

Rainbow Dash took the photo without really looking at it first, then bristled in shock upon seeing Spitfire in a picture with a rather goofy—well, goofier—looking Ditzy Doo. Her eyes went wide, as did her jaw. "Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!" All her tiredness, stress and perhaps even Scootaloo were completely forgotten. She grabbed the photo with her mouth and took off, speeding towards the outskirts of town.

"Hey, Rainbow Dash! Wait! WAI—awww." A rather dejected Scootaloo reslung her saddlebags and scooted off toward Fluttershy's cottage.


Ditzy was happy to be heading home. She had moved the mail all day and all she wanted to do was sit down for dinner with her Dinky and relax; it had been a long week for the mailmare. She had just opened her door to go inside when she was propelled through it by a tackle from a multicolored blur. She recognized her assailant, from her new position on the floor, as her friend Rainbow Dash, who had ended on top of her. The offending pony paused just long enough to grab something she had been holding in her mouth before she began excitedly jabbering at the pinned mare.

"Hey, Derp—I mean, Ditzy! Why didn't you ever tell me you knew Spitfire! Oh-my-gosh she is so cool! And you know her. It's so awesome!"

Ditzy froze in the act of pushing Rainbow off of her. How did she find out about Spitz? She couldn't tell; she'd promised! "Uhm… what are you saying, Rainbow Dash? I don't know any Spitfire!"

Dash frowned. "Yeah you do, De—Ditzy! Lithe, athletic-looking yellow pegasus? Orange mane and tail? Fire bolt cutie mark? Wonderbolt?"

She tapped her chin with a hoof in thought for a moment, then shook her head vigorously. "Doesn’t ring any bells."

Rainbow Dash stared at her with a look of utter disbelief. She held up the photograph and used her other hoof to point to Spitfire. "By Celestia—This pegasus! Right here, next to you!"

She was shocked stiff as the color rapidly drained from her face. How had Rainbow gotten the picture of her and her best friend? How was she going to keep her promise now? "Uhh… it... well, Spitfire… the thing is…" She was saved from her stuttering by her Dinky walking through the front door.

***

"Hi, Mommy! Why's the door open… oh. Hello, Miss Rainbow Dash." She went silent quickly, scuffing a hoof on the floor. Scootaloo had told her upon meeting up with them that Dash had flown off with the photo. It was usually no big deal: being the embodiment of loyalty, it was almost impossible for her to keep something that belonged to somepony else. But Dash gone and told her mommy that she'd taken the picture, and she knew she'd get in trouble for it now.

Ditzy quickly shifted her crooked gaze to her daughter. "Muffin, it’s almost sundown! Where were you?"

"Oh. Me and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell were helping Fluttershy with her animals. They were so cute, and…" She trailed off under her mother's stare, one she had come to recognize as cross.

"Well, uhm, leave a note next time, okay?” Her tone softened a bit. “I don’t want to have to worry about you."

Dash cleared her throat, setting the picture down on the nearby dining table. "Uhh, Ditzy, look. About Spitfire, can I—"

"Muffin, go wash your hooves. It’s almost dinner time. Rainbow Dash, let’s talk on the porch."

***

As Dinky headed toward the kitchen, the two grown pegasi went outside, Ditzy shutting the door behind her. She rounded on Dash with a small frown.

"I told you, Rainbow Dash, I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Dash cringed. "Please, Ditzy! Don't lie to me! This could be my chance! To show a Wonderbolt my moves one-on-one, without her being unconscious this time! I'm asking—I'm begging you! Just ask her for me, please!"

She stamped her hoof and snorted. "I TOLD YOU, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! It isn’t true and I don’t know Spitfire! Please leave, Rainbow Dash!"

Dash’s eyes, which had gone wide during Ditzy’s tirade, quickly narrowed. She stamped a hoof back. "Yeah? Well fine, Derpy! You don't want to help me, that's fine! I don't need your help, you feather-brained walleye! You want to stand there and lie to me, that's fine! I'll impress Spitfire, and the rest of the Wonderbolts too, WITHOUT YOUR HELP!" She turned around and flew away, barely missing the edge of the porch during her violent takeoff.

Ditzy went back inside, her eyes watering from Dash’s words, to find her daughter sitting at the table crying. She had obviously heard them shouting on the porch.

"I'm sorry, Mommy! I'm sorry I took the photo from your book! I didn't mean to make her mad at you! I thought she'd be happy…"

She walked over and gave her Dinky a strong hug as she cried.

"I j-just wanted everypony to l-like you, Mommy. I wanted them to see how c-cool you were."

Ditzy was crying too, not just from Rainbow Dash, but because she was proud of her daughter. Even though her methods weren't so good, her heart was in the right place. And Dinky thought she was cool. The filly eventually cried herself out, and after a last squeeze from her mother, the two went about eating their dinner.


The news had spread quickly through the small town of Ponyville, lent wings by the gossip grapevine.

"Dad! You won't believe what I learned at school today!"

"Well, son, I'm glad you're finally showing some more interest in your schoolwork."

"Huh? No, not that! Dinky's mom knows Spitfire!"

"…HAHAHA! That's a good one!"

"No, really! Dinky had a picture and everything!"

"…You aren't joking, are you?"


"Ditzy Doo? Yeah, pull the other one."

"No, I'm serious! Apparently, her daughter brought a picture to school."

"I'll believe it when I see it!"


"Ditzy Doo? And Spitfire?"

"Eeeyup."

"You can't be for real. You are joking with me, right?

"Nnnope. It's all over town; heard it by the apple stand."


"Seriously? Her and Spitfire? Ooo, how scandalous!"

"I know, it's like, totally shocking."

"Hey, do you remember that magazine that said Spitfire was a supposed to be a… you know?"

"You think her and Ditzy were…? Ewww, no way!"

"So way!"

"No way!"


"Hey, Cheerilee! So, apparently there was some issue with a photograph of Ditzy at school today?"

“How did you… well yes, it was a minor thing really, nothing bad. Just her and her pegasus friend, but it disrupted my lesson something awful."

"Wait, you mean there was a picture?"


A brown pegasus with a soccer ball cutie mark flew out of Ponyville just before the sun started to go down. He arrived some time later in the evening in central Manehatten, approaching a rather tall but otherwise unremarkable office building, with the title Equestria Today emblazoned above the door in white block letters. He entered quickly, smiling to the earth mare receptionist in the lobby. "Evening, Wink. Is Flash Bulb around? I need to talk to him right quick."

She smiled back and pointed to where the white pegasus with a light blue mane and film strip cutie mark was just exiting the stairwell.

"Thanks."

Flash Bulb gave the brown pegasus a grin as he walked across the lobby toward him. "Hey, Kicker, long time. Haven't seen you around here since that Fluttershy tip you gave me. Here to catch up? Wanna hit a bar or something?"

"Maybe in a bit, Flash. Right now, I think I got another tip for you. Hot one."

Flash gave a lazy grin. "Well, who woulda thought it from little old Ponyville? What kinda craziness you got comin' outta that town today?"

Kicker's smile turned smug. "It isn't so much going out as coming in, and its name is Spitfire. She's been visiting somepony in secret. Do I have your attention?"

"Hmm… let me take you back upstairs. My boss is gonna want to hear this, and I have the feeling you have just handed me a nice raise, my friend."

"Well, I guess you can buy the first drink then."

A short time later, both pegasi were seated comfortably facing the desk of a light teal earth pony with an open newspaper cutie mark. His voice was a crisp, authoritative bark. "Flash, I thought you were headed home! What are you doin' back up here?"

"Well, boss, Kicker here came and found me, says he's got a hot tip. Says Spitfire's been visiting Ponyville."

The boss turned to Kicker. "Now why would somepony like Spitfire be visitin' someplace like Ponyville?"

"Well, isn't that what you're supposed to ask the pony she's visiting?"

The boss gave a chuckle. "Good point. You seen her come into town?"

"No, but my friend's daughter saw a picture in school today that proved she was there, and I asked the teacher. She confirmed it."

"I dunno. Sounds kinda flimsy. Who was she visiting?"

"Some clumsy, kinda oblivious pegasus named Ditzy Doo. Lives out near…" Both newsponys had gone shock stiff.

Flash slowly turned toward Kicker. "Grey pony? Yellow eyes, seven bubbles cutie mark?"

"I don't know her eye color. Bubbles... yeah, I think seven."

Flash whipped around to face his boss again. "It all fits. That'd explain why Spitfire's there. It's enough to risk going out there."

"I agree. Go back with Kicker here and get the scoop. Get back here before deadline tomorrow, and don't mess this up."

Flash smiled. It was time to go find out what the legendary Ditzy Doo had been up to, and what she was hiding from the rest of the world down in rural Ponyville.

Part 2: Guilt and Interviews

Early the next morning Ditzy awoke to the shrill ring of her alarm clock. Blearily, she dislodged a leg from her twisted bedsheets and slammed her hoof down between the bells to stop their ringing. With some difficulty, she managed to disentangle herself from her bed and go about her normal morning routine of making the breakfast muffins. She had time while they baked to get herself ready for work, and get Dinky awake and ready for school. Though her Dinky was less than enthusiastic about waking up, Ditzy tickled her with her wings until she squirmed her way out of bed, still giggling as she loaded up her school saddlebags. Once the muffins were done, they ate their breakfast quickly and got on the road, walking briskly in the morning cold.

Their walk toward school was quieter than it usually was, until Dinky nervously broke the silence. "Uhm, Mommy? W-why did you tell Ms. Rainbow Dash that you didn't know Spitfire? You don't… you don't want her to think you're cool?"

She sighed. She'd expected her daughter to ask eventually, but she didn't want to make her feel any worse about what she'd done. She answered with a kind smile. "She never said why, but Spitfire told me not to tell anypony she was visiting."

Dinky looked down guiltily. "Oh. But I was telling everypony. Sorry."

"It’s okay, Muffin. You said sorry enough last night, remember? You didn't know; it happens. I’m not upset with you."

She looked up hopefully. "So… what's she like?"

Ditzy chuckled, and began to tell her Dinky about how nice her friend was to her and how quickly she flew when she took off from the lawn. Before too long, they arrived at school. Ditzy gave her daughter a goodbye kiss and a hearty "Have a good schoolday, Muffin!" before crookedly flying off toward the mailhouse. The awed stares cast at her by the other ponies and their foals went unnoticed.

As she entered the mailhouse, she heard a voice she didn't recognize talking to the boss-stallion and the other few mailponies.

"So you've known her a long time, then?"

"Yeah, since she started workin' here. Musta been… six, seven years? ‘Bout round the time she moved here."

"Have you heard she's been meeting with Spitfire?"

"Yeah I—oh. Heya, Ditzy." The boss-stallion had finally noticed her. He nodded toward the newcomer. "This guy here wanted to—"

The newcomer was a white pegasus with a film strip cutie mark and a camera hanging around his neck. After her presence was made known, he gave her a long, thorough look-over. He frowned slightly when he glanced at her face, then perked up upon seeing her flank. She was starting to feel offended when he suddenly raised his camera and took a picture of her. "Flash Bulb, Ms. Doo. With the Equestria Today. I just wanted to get a quick interview about what's been goin' on with you and Spitfire."

Ditzy frowned. She felt a tickle in the back of her head, like she sometimes got when talking to Spitz about the Wonderbolts. Something felt familiar about this, but she was sure she'd never seen this camera-pony before. She spoke carefully, eying the offending newspony. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any pony named Spitfire." Her words caused mixed reactions amongst the ponies present.

"Ha!" One of the mailponies crowed, turning to the boss-stallion. "Told you. You owe me 5 bits."

"We never shook on it!"

Others turned toward her.

"Really, Ditzy? Cause that's not what my brother told me."

"I knew it was all just a bunch of hooey."

"Aww. I wanted to ask you for her autograph…"

But the most curious reaction came from the reporter, who just started laughing. He eventually cut off the others as they stopped talking amongst themselves to stare at him. He turned back to her once he finally got control of himself, still slightly teary-eyed. "'I don’t know any pony named Spitfire?' I'd get it if you guys weren't so close anymore, but not knowing her? That's a bit of a stretch given how long you flew together, don't ya think?" The other mailponies sat in dead silence, now staring at Ditzy expectantly.

She frowned. What was this Flash Bulb talking about? She never flew with Spitz, and she didn't like him laughing at her. She hated getting laughed at. Her reply was rather curt. "You’re wrong. I haven't flown with any Spitfire and I don't know any Spitfire. Excuse me; I’d better start moving the mail now."

She walked over to the mailbags waiting for her behind the counter, and on her third try managed to settle them across her back, picking up the letters that had escaped during her failed attempts and stuffing them back in the mailbags. She headed back toward the door to leave, the other mailponies still silently staring at her. That Flash Bulb pony was waiting for her with an arched eyebrow. "I guess that means no comment, huh?" He followed her as she left, asking about the photograph that had been seen around town, and continued to natter questions at her after she again told him she had no idea what he was talking about. She sighed. This was going to be a long day.

She went about her mail route ignoring Flash as best she could. Most ponies who were home when she moved the mail to their mailboxes came out to ask her questions too, but they were always the same: did she really know Spitfire? Her answer, likewise, was always the same: no, she did not. Unfortunately, it was hard to convince them when they saw Flash a short distance away attempting to pry an answer to some question or another out of her.


Flash Bulb was peeved. He had confirmed that this was indeed Ditzy Doo. It was the story of a lifetime, with him breaking it to all of Equestria… except the infuriating mare simply refused to answer his questions. He'd been trying to get answers from her for over two hours, but apparently she didn't want to give him anything. "Miss Doo? Miss Doo?"

He managed to pull her attention. "Huh? What do you want now, Mr. Flash Bulb? I have a lot more mail to move."

His reply was full of strained cheer. "I was just wondering if you were ever going to answer any of my questions, Ms. Doo."

"Oh. Hmm..." She put a hoof to her chin in thought for a while, then flashed him a wide smile. “Nope.”

He'd been afraid of that. "C'mon, Ms. Doo. Everypony wants to know about it. These ponies here in this rural little village might buy that you don't know Spitfire, but nopony anywhere else will. It's obvious you've been meeting yer old buddy; I just wanna know why."

Her smile vanished in a sour grimace. "I've been telling you and everypony else; I don’t know Spitfire."

Flash Bulb sighed and snapped one final picture. "Okay, Ms. Doo. Have it your way. Thanks for what little time you gave." As much as he wanted to keep questioning her, she appeared willing to remain stubbornly noncommital. He didn't have the kind of time he needed to question her if he wanted to make his deadline. He flew off toward the school house, and heard her sigh in relief as he left. Time to go and see if the other family member, this "Dinky," knew anything…


Flash Bulb landed a short distance from the school grounds. His timing was perfect: the foals were pouring out of the schoolhouse for recess. He looked around at the students and frowned. Most of them were clustered in a crowd around the steps, with a few others scattered throughout the yard. Search as he might, he couldn’t see anypony matching Dinky’s description. Maybe one of the other foals knew where she was. He approached a filly trio seated beneath a tree; the three were shooting envious glances at the crowd and shirked back from him as he approached. "Heya, girls. Any of you know where Dinky Doo is? I wanted to talk to her for a bit."

The three shared curious glances before the earth filly ventured to respond. "Whatchu wanna talk to Dinky 'bout, anyway, mister?"

He put on his most disarming smile. "Oh, Flash Bulb. My name's Flash Bulb. Well, I'm one of her mom's friends from out of town; I work for the Equestria Today, the newspaper. Anyway, I came out here to interview her about her talk with Spitfire for the front page article, but she was too busy working to finish answering all of my questions. So I thought I'd come out here and see if Dinky could answer some of them." The trio grew wide-eyed, jumping at the chance to be in a newspaper.

"That is so cool! Dinky's mom is gonna be in the paper!"

"Hey, we know Dinky. She told us all about it!"

"Yeah! I'm sure she wouldn't mind if it was for the paper. You're her mom's friend, after all, right?"

Flash Bulb was taken aback by their sudden burst of enthusiasm, but quickly regained his composure. A source was a source, after all, and he didn't exactly have much to go on. "Thanks, girls! So, what do you know about all this?"

"Dinky showed me this picture of her mom and Spitfire yesterday. She even let me borrow it, it was so awesome!"

"Oh, yeah. I'd already heard about the picture. Have you heard anything else? Like, what they were doing together?"

The orange pegasus filly deflated slightly as he skipped over her remark. Apple Bloom spoke up next."Well, Dinky said her mom an' Spitfire were just talkin' ‘bout not much of anything special. Spitfire was askin' ‘bout how she was doin' and stuff, how her job was goin', and she was just askin' Spitfire ‘bout the Wonderbolts an' how Dinky—"

"Apple Bloom! Wait!" Another filly came galloping over to join them beneath the tree, noticeably winded from attempting to shout and run at the same time.

He frowned at the untimely interruption, but his annoyance quickly faded when he examined the new arrival, whose colors clearly identified her as Ditzy's daughter. He gave the newcomer a smile. "Hey, and here's Dinky herself. I wanted to ask you—"

"Excuse me."

Flash turned toward the newest voice to see a purple earth mare with a pink mane and three smiling daisies for a cutie mark standing next to him, frowning disapprovingly at him in stark contrast to said cutie mark.

"Run along, girls, and let me talk to the nice stallion."

"But, Ms. Cheerilee, Mr. Flash Bulb here just wanted to talk to Dinky."

"Go on, girls. Now." The four fillies walked away, three sullenly, the fourth whispering to them intensely.

Flash Bulb was undeterred. "So you're Ms. Cheerilee, then? The one who saw the photograph firsthoof? Listen, I'm a reporter for Equestria Today. If I may—"

"You may not." Her reply was curt and cold. "Listen, Mister… Bulb. I don't really care who you are, or who you work for, but I don't know you and you aren't from around here. Even if you were, I wouldn't approve of a grown pony coming around during the school day and disturbing my students without good reason. Especially a grown stallion with no foal in my class and a camera around his neck. Leave now, please. Before this becomes an… issue."

He closed his mouth with an audible click of his teeth. This Cheerilee mare was scary. "U-understood, Ms. Cheerilee—ma'am. I didn't mean anything by it, just asking some questions. I'll be going now."

He left quickly, with some of his dignity intact. He hadn't gotten everything he wanted, but he'd gotten enough. He had time enough to interview some of the townsponies and still make it back to Manehatten in time to write up his article. It was time to break this story, and let the world know that it was Flash Bulb who'd done it.


Dinky had felt very awkward during her first lessons. The other fillies and colts kept staring at her and whispering, kept reminding her of what she'd done. The stares had been nothing compared to what came after class when Dinky was again mobbed by the other foals during recess. It seemed that word had gotten out, and everypony had asked her about her mommy and Spitfire. As happy as she should have felt that ponies thought her mommy was cool now, every pony that had asked only made her feel more guilty about telling other ponies about Spitfire when her mommy had wanted it to be a secret.

She had finally dislodged herself from the mob, with Ms. Cheerilee's help, only to see her new friends talking to some strange pegasus near the edge of the school yard. As she went over to investigate, she finally overheard just what it was they were discussing, and started running. But she was too late; the damage was already done.

As they walked away from the two adult ponies, Dinky was hurriedly whispering to her friends. "Look, you guys can't tell anypony else what I heard my mommy and Spitfire talking about, okay?"

They gave her quizzical looks. "What's the big deal, Dinky? You seemed pretty excited when you told us yesterday."

"Yeah, what gives?"

"My mommy told me this morning that the whole thing was supposed to be a secret, so I can't tell anypony nomore! Everypony already knows about the photo and I've already told ponies she knows Spitfire, but maybe I can still keep the rest of it a secret. You promise me you won't tell anypony what they said, okay?"

She stared at them expectantly, but Sweetie Bell interjected before they could make the promise. "Wait a second. If she wanted to keep it a secret, why did she give you the picture to take to school?"

Dinky kicked a hoof guiltily. "Well…" She was saved from admitting she had taken the photo without permission by Ms. Cheerilee’s approach. The stallion had flown away rather suddenly and she trotted a bit to catch up to the four fillies.

"Now girls, just what was going on back there?"

Though they all shirked beneath her level gaze, Scootaloo bravely spoke up for her friends in a nervous rush. "It's like we said, Ms. Cheerilee! That Flash Bulb guy said he was Dinky's mom's friend from the newspaper and that he wanted to ask Dinky some stuff about Spitfire. She wasn't there, but she'd told us about it, so we figured we'd just tell him."

Emboldened, Sweetie Bell also spoke up. "It's not like he was a stranger or anything if he was Miss Ditzy's friend, right? He was very nice."

Cheerilee silenced them with a raised hoof. "Dinky, did you recognize him? Did you know him?"

"Well, no… but I didn't know Mommy knew Spitfire until two nights ago. Maybe she just didn't tell me about him."

"Girls. It doesn't matter what a pony says: if they aren't introduced to you by a pony you know and trust, then they're strangers. I'll look into this, but I don't want to see you girls talking to strange ponies again, okay?"

"Yes, Ms. Cheerilee," all four fillies responded by rote.

"Good." She put a smile back on. "Now run along and play, before recess is over."


"Didja hear, Bluebird? Some reporter pony was following Derpy around this morning!"

"Really? No way! So you think she really does know Spitfire then?"

"What else could it be?"

Rainbow Dash ground her teeth in annoyance, flying over to the two chatting pegasi sitting idly on a cloud. "Hey guys, c'mon! The rainstorm is in two days, so let's have less lounging and more cloud moving! We gotta make sure everything goes perfectly!"

"Sorry, Rainbow. C'mon Bluebird."

Dash glared at the pegasi as they flew off with the cloud, though her annoyance was directed less at their lounging and more at the topic of their discussion. It was all she had heard during the weather coordination that day: Derpy knew Spitfire, Ditzy was going to be in the paper, Ditzy, Ditzy, Ditzy! First she lied to her and told her off, now she was getting interviews with reporter ponies! How could it be there was a pegasus more famous around town than her own awesome self? How could a Wonderbolt like somepony in Ponyville better than her? She vented her anger on a small, nearby cloud, utterly destroying it and several of its friends. She flew away in a rage, leaving the bits of cloud to dissolve behind her.


Ditzy reentered the mailhouse early that evening with a sigh of relief. Even after Flash had left, she’d had to deal with the questions of the ponies she moved the mail to. It was one of the most draining shifts she'd ever worked, including that time they had to deliver a piano. She was more than a little startled to see Cheerilee in the main lobby. She gave her a cheerful smile and waved as the teacher got up off of her chair and walked over to her.

"Hello, Cheerilee! What’re you doing here?” Wait… why would she be here? She felt a small tinge of panic. “Did something happen to my Dinky?"

"Hello, Ditzy. No, there's nothing wrong with Dinky—well, not exactly."

Ditzy gave her a concerned look, which Cheerilee quickly dismissed with a hoof wave. "It's just that there was a pegasus hanging around the schoolyard during recess. He told some of the fillies, Dinky included, that he was your friend and that he wanted to ask Dinky some questions about you and Spitfire." Cheerilee frowned. "Ditzy, I could care less who your friends are, Spitfire or this Flash Bulb fellow, but I won't tolerate them coming around my little ponies like that without you letting me know about them."

Her face, which had sported a grimace since she heard Flash Bulb's name, was now flush with irritation and concern. "He is not my friend. That pesky camera-pony was following me all morning. Tell me that he didn't do anything to my Dinky!"

"Oh no, I sent him right away, though it seemed Dinky and her friends talked to him a little bit about you and Spitfire. Honestly, I don't hold to this kind of gossip, but everpony at school and around town is abuzz over this."

She tensed up momentarily, then relaxed again. The photo of her and Spitz was the talk of Ponyville, like Cheerilee said. Dinky couldn't tell him anything he couldn't hear from almost anypony about town. Still, she'd have to talk to her muffin and make sure she kept clear of strangers. She’d almost had a heart attack when Cheerilee told her about that. "I dunno what all the fuss is about either. I’ll talk to Dinky tonight, and make sure she knows to stay away from strange ponies."

"Good. And I'll be sure to keep that character away from her if he comes by again."

"Thanks. Bye, Cheerilee." Ditzy deposited her mailbags and walked with her to the door, where they both went their separate ways.


"Muffin, come down and wash your hooves! Dinner’s ready!"

Dinky had been hiding in her room since her mommy got home, claiming she was practicing her magic before her lesson tomorrow. In reality, she just didn't want to have to face her mommy and tell her that she'd ruined her secret even more. She'd just wanted everypony to like her mommy, and maybe make some friends! Was that such a bad thing? But she'd ended up breaking a promise her mommy had made, to Spitfire no less, and then made it even worse today. She sighed in exasperation.

"Muffin! Mmmm... hurry, while they’re still warm!"

Well, there was nothing for it; her mommy would find out sooner or later. She squared her shoulders and marched downstairs.

***

Ditzy had happily munched most of her way through dinner before she noticed how her Dinky was fidgeting in her seat and never quite meeting her gaze. Well, not looking at her face as much as usual, at least. Nopony could ever really manage to meet her gaze. She knew her Dinky had been through a lot lately, and probably more than she knew, what with rumors of the photo being spread all over town, so she tried to press gently. "So, Muffin, Ms. Cheerilee came to the mailhouse to talk to me today. She told me you and your friends were talking to Flash Bulb."

Dinky looked up at her resignedly, then slumped in her chair. “I know, Mommy. I’m sorry. I was too late to stop them; I tried to keep them from telling him, but he'd said he was your friend and… I'm sorry," she repeated lamely.

"Muffin, I’m upset because you went up to a strange pony. It’s not safe. You made me worry about you. Everypony knows about the photo already; I care about you being safe much, much more."

"Well, see…" She looked down in shame, nervously pushing a muffin crumb about with her magic.

"What, Dinky? Tell me."

She was starting to tear up slightly and finished in a rush. "It wasn't just the photo. I heard you talking to Spitfire, that night she visited, and I… I kinda told my new friends. I think they told him, too. I… I just wanted them to like me!"

She sat stunned, blinking for a second before fixing her daughter with a frown, her tone becoming even more serious. “What me and my friend was talking about was private. It wasn’t right of you to share that without asking."

Dinky finally broke under the admonishment, and for the second time in two nights, she was crying. "I-I know, Mommy, and I'm s-so sorry! All I w-wanted was to impress some p-ponies at school and for the other-r f-foals to like you and not go all quiet w-when we talked, but all I-I've done is screw up and b-break your promises! Now Spitfire i-is gonna be mad and it'll be ALL MY FAULT! I wish I c-could just go b-back and undo everything! I-I've been such a bad pony!"

For the second time in two nights, Ditzy went to her daughter and comforted her as she cried. "Don't say that, Dinky. Never say that. You are not a bad pony. I’m sorry you had to find out about this, and I’m upset you shared the photo and our little talk without asking me. But I accept your apology and I’m happy that you’re making friends. It’s been done, and now you know not to tell, so we can move on. Okay?"

Dinky quieted down with a sniff, and gave her a timid smile. "Okay, Mommy."

She returned the smile. "I love you, Muffin."

"I love you too, Mommy."

She continued to hold Dinky for a while longer before the two went about their evening, Ditzy giving her daughter a typically slow reading of one of her favorite stories before the two retired for the night. As Ditzy tucked her daughter in and kissed her goodnight, she began to think that maybe it wasn't so bad. Spitz would understand and hopefully, Dinky would perk up soon and enjoy the new friends she'd made. With hope and happy thoughts she made her way to her own bed and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Part 3: Harsh Words

Spitfire yawned loudly as she slowly winged her way toward the Wonderbolts' aerodrome. Though situated a fair distance outside of and significantly closer to the ground than Cloudsdale, it was still a majestic sight. As a training facility and a performance dome, it was nearly twice the size of the Cloudeseum, featuring not only cloud seating, but ground bleachers and high-rise VIP boxes to cater to the Wonderbolts' significant land pony fan-base. Seeing the white marble structure was usually one of the high points of her morning and never failed to instill a sense of awe and pride in her, though today the feeling was lessened significantly by the large number of reporter ponies crowding the performer's entrance, barely barred from entry by numerous security ponies.

On seeing her approach, the crowd exploded towards her in a rush, security hurriedly moving forward to prevent them from mobbing her.

"Spitfire, any comment on—"

"—old friend Ditzy?"

"Spitfire, are you and—"

"Spitfire, have the Wonderbolts—"

"—word on Ditzy Doo's-"

"—confirmed fillyfooler?"

There were too many voices around her, all clashing together, but hearing Ditzy's name chilled her. She schooled her face to hide her shock. She'd dealt with the press before: give them nothing, and they could say nothing concrete. It must have been a coincidence. This recent fillyfooler rumor about her must have caused ponies to question if her long-time friend had been something more. She began to calm down, her fears averted.

"STAY BACK! This way, Ms. Spitfire."

Security had carved her a path to the entrance and she shot them a grateful look as she hustled into the building.

She made her way through the facility to the break room, where Soarin sat waiting, finishing up his breakfast whilst glaring at the newspaper with a scowl. She frowned; whatever was going on, it must have been bad to sour his normally cheerful, friendly mood. Best get to the bottom of this quickly. She put on her most winning smile. "Hey, Soarin. What's up? You look like somepony canceled a bake sale."

He didn't laugh.

Her smile faltered some, and she tried again. "Soo… what's with all these reporters, huh? Didn't think we were doing a press release today."

His response was livid with accusation and sarcasm. "Well, I don't know, captain, think it has something to do with this?" He slid the newspaper, an Equestria Today, over to her, open to the front page.

As she read the headline article, her eyes widened in shock. "FAMOUS FLYER DITZY DOO DISCUSSES WONDERBOLTS IN SECRET WITH TEAM LEADER SPITFIRE." She felt a chill: they knew. Somepony must have seen her enter Ponyville, must have told the press. She pushed the paper away forcefully.

Soarin brought her out of her daze. "What's wrong? You get tired of having me as your Second? Wanted your old flying buddy back instead of—"

She slammed her hoof down on the table. "SOARIN… don't. Just don't." All humor drained from her face. She glared daggers at him before turning away and storming off toward the lockers, afraid of what she might do to him if she didn't look away. He’d looked startled; she doubted he’d ever seen her this angry before. He followed right behind her, catching up to her as she began to stuff her flightsuit into her saddlebags.

"Where are you going?"

She neither slowed down nor turned to face him. "Ponyville. I gotta deal with this."

"You can't just leave! What about the training? We have a show coming up and you can't just run off—"

She slammed the locker shut, cutting him off. She sighed and finally turned to face him, a defeated look in her eyes. "Look… she doesn't remember anything, okay? Any of it before the accident. She finally had a little peace in that village, and now she's going to be mobbed by those camera vultures, constantly pestered and yelled at and she won't even know why." Her voice grew vehement. "But she's still my friend, and I got her into this press mess, so I'm gonna go to Ponyville, and neither you nor the training schedule will keep me from helping my friend."

His anger deflated and his shoulders slumped, his voice hesitant and defeated. "Yeah… look, I'm sorry, okay? I just… go help your friend. I'll slot in one of the rookies, or something."

Spitfire understood his jealousy, even if it was unfounded. She put her hoof on his shoulder and gave him a small smile. "You earned your spot here, Soarin. Don't ever tell yourself you didn't, okay? You are my Second, not her."

He perked up somewhat, blushing slightly; it seemed she'd known exactly what was bothering him. "Yeah… thanks, Spitfire. You want me to distract the press?"

"Yeah, you do that. I'll go out the service entrance. Thanks."

Shortly thereafter, Spitfire flew off toward Ponyville, once again clad in her unremarkable flight saddle and flying cap. Her face was a mask of determination. She'd promised herself she'd help Ditzy, and these reporters could ruin her friend's life in an instant. She was not about to let that happen. Ditzy deserved the happy little life she had, and no reporter was going to ruin that for her… assuming they hadn't already. She pushed herself faster.


Ditzy woke up three seconds before her alarm clock began to ring at her. She let it go on for a while before she managed to summon the energy to place her hoof between the bells. She almost fell back asleep, but finally surrendered to the morning and rolled out of her bed. Last working-day this week, she kept reminding herself, and what a mantra it was. She just wanted the whole week to be over. Between the camera-pony and all the ponies in town clamoring at her about Spitz… one more day. She began her routine of making muffins and waking up her daughter, and for once her little filly got out of bed eagerly. They ate quickly and began the long walk to school, Dinky energetically bouncing alongside her mother.

The source of her excitement was not long kept a secret. "Ms. Sparkler said she thinks I'm ready to levitate two things at once now. Isn't that cool, Mommy?"

Ditzy smiled. She was proud her Dinky was making such progress with her magic. Since she couldn't teach her daughter by herself, she was afraid she would lag behind the other unicorn fillies without the help of a tutor like Sparkler. Dinky's progress came as a great relief. "Yes, Muffin, it sounds very cool."

"Yeah, she said she may even teach me how… to juggle…" Dinky’s smile faded as the two ponies slowed to a stop, the schoolhouse coming into view a short distance away.

There were two clearly separate groups of ponies on the school yard: one was a large group of reporter ponies which occasionally attempted to question Ms. Cheerilee, and the other a mixture of parents, their children, and Ms. Cheerilee herself, who threw icy glares at any reporter who dared to cross the divide between the groups, a divide that seemed to be maintained by her sheer willpower alone. As Ditzy came into view, the reporters turned on her, though it was unclear if they were running toward her, or away from Ms. Cheerilee.

Ditzy felt panic well up as the swarm descended on her, quickly placing a hoof around Dinky so she wouldn't lose her in the crowd. The filly looked toward her mother and scooted up against her, wide-eyed and head swiveling in response to the seemingly endless flashbulbs.

"Ms. Doo, any comment on the Wonderbolts?"

"Ditzy, can you confirm that Spitfire is a fillyfooler?"

"Ms. Doo, are you coming out of retirement?"

"Ms. Doo, any comment on—"

"Dizty, are you being—"

"—new Wonderbolts career?"

"Why the secrecy, Ms.—?"

"Ditzy—"

"Ditzy!"

"Ms. Doo, any—"

It quickly descended to a jumble of shouting voices, but some of the questions brought the tickle back into her mind with a vengeance, turning it into a throbbing headache. She gripped Dinky tightly, pulling her close, and swung her head around, desperately searching for a friendly face in the mob.

She finally found one; Ms. Cheerilee was making her way through the crowd through a combination of insistent, but polite, brushing aside of newsponies and the occasional frigid stare when they refused to yield. She gratefully allowed her to take Dinky off her hooves, and began to walk away from the schoolhouse. As she took off toward the mailhouse, she got away from some of the ground newsponies, but was forced to contend with a plethora of orbiting pegasi. Flying in the correct direction was difficult enough for her at the best of times: she often had to stop and find landmarks to correct her crooked flights. With the reporters constantly buzzing around her, it was nearly impossible. She picked what she hoped was the right way and flew off hastily, still shaken by the reporters who quickly followed.


Rainbow Dash was flying back toward her floating home from an early morning cloudmoving when she saw the commotion down in Ponyville. A huge throng of reporters and villagers were slowly heading toward the post office, the blond mane and grey coat of Ditzy Doo only visible for the briefest of instants at the center of the crowd. The flare of jealousy she’d harbored renewed itself with vigor; it seemed Ditzy was getting to be famous after all. Never mind that Dash had saved Spitfire's life, never mind that she was best young flyer: Ditzy got the press, not her. Ditzy met with Wonderbolts, not her. She ripped her gaze from the horrid scene, her eyes watering slightly, due solely to the cold morning wind, of course. She sped up, wanting to get away from the whole scene as fast as possible. Still in her emotional daze, it took her a second to notice there was a yellow pegasus flying next to her.

"Hey… Rainbow Dash, right? Hold up, I need to talk to you."

She would recognize that voice anywhere. She screeched to a halt along with the other pegasus and a quick once-over of the pony confirmed it. "Spitfire? Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

Spitfire pulled away from her a bit, apparently startled by her sudden excitement at meeting the Wonderbolt. The celebrity facehoofed with a frustrated groan. "Yeah, it's me. Look, I don’t have time for—"

"Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

"Hey, look—”

"Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

"—Dash…"

"Oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh oh-my-gosh!"

Spitfire put her hooves on Rainbow's shoulders and shook her lightly. "Focus!" She obediently quieted and Spitfire gave a small sigh of relief. "I'm looking for Ditzy, Rainbow Dash. Have you seen her around?"

Her excitement melted visibly, her wide smile turning to a scowl. It figured. For a brief, glorious moment, she'd believed Spitfire had actually wanted to talk to her. Her response was sour despite her best efforts. "Oh, yeah. Of course you want to talk to her. Last I saw, she was surrounded by reporter ponies near the post office. She isn't hard to miss, just look for the huge throng of ponies and the blinding flashbulb convention."

Spitfire broke into a series of muttered curses that left Rainbow shocked before she returned to the matter at hand. "Hmmm. I'll have to get her out of that, somehow…"

"Hey, I know. Why don't you both keep saying you don't know each other? Seemed to work so far, well, up until now that is."

Her comment was tinted with bitterness and Spitfire quickly rounded on her. "Wait, what? What's your problem, Rainbow?"

Dash's pent-up frustrations poured out before she could even begin to think of stopping them. "I'm the one who's been looking up to you since… forever! I'm the one who saved your life, I'm the one who trained to fly like you, I'M the one who wants to be a Wonderbolt. All she ever did was lie about knowing you and drop off the mail. She flies like a drunk brick, but you want to talk to her? It just isn't… IT ISN'T FAIR!" She was left short of breath and panting after her outburst, and her face began to pale as she realized just who she'd been shouting at.

The celebrity's face bore a stone-cold frown. She slowly flew forward until her nose was only inches away from the other pegasus's. Her tone was as cold as her face was. "For your information, Dash, I made her promise not to tell anypony that she knew me. I like you, but you need to grow up and see that this isn't about you. From what I've heard just now, you haven't read the newspaper yet, so you don't know the whole story, and I do still owe you, so I might not buck your face in if you refrain from insulting my friend again."

Dash's voice was slightly queasy. Spitfire's anger wasn't exactly subtle. "You made her—Why would you make her promise something like that?"

"I don't have time to explain. Look, I need your help to get those reporters off of Ditzy. You gonna help me with this or not?"

"If… if you still want me to, yeah. Sure." Dash's voice had gone very quiet, and her face sported a deep blush.

She nodded. "I need you to, Dash. I’m not just going to up and forgive you for this, but that can wait. Here's what you have to do…"


Rainbow Dash's head spun as she forced her way through the crowd of villagers and press ponies toward Derpy. Was Spitfire ashamed of being associated with somepony like Derpy? No, she couldn't believe that; not after how she'd acted. She finally got within sight range of Derpy—Ditzy, she corrected herself, and she felt a wave of shame wash over her. It was clear that she was not enjoying the attention as Rainbow had believed. Maybe that was why Spitfire had made her promise, she thought, because Ditzy didn't like the attention… jeeze, it looks like she’s almost as bad around the press as Fluttershy.

Her guilty mind attacked her relentlessly. And you tried to make her break that promise didn't you? You were just gonna pressure her into doing what you wanted and leave her to this mob. You would have lied too if Spitfire made you promise something. All she was doing was being loyal to her friend, and you called her a walleye and a featherbrain. She cringed. First her words to Ditzy had been less than kind, then she went and made a fool of herself in front of her idol. She squared her shoulders and continued to move through the crowd with renewed vigor. There’s nothing for it; I’m gonna help Spitfire and set things right, even… even if I have to apologize to Ditzy Doo.


As Ditzy made her way into town, her progress toward the mailhouse was slowed significantly by a fresh mass of waiting reporters and villagers attracted to the commotion and paparazzi. She was overwhelmed by all the attention, her head was pounding from all their questions and the flashbulbs. Her constant requests that they leave her alone or let her get to work went entirely ignored. She finally made her way into the mailhouse, the crowd surging in behind her. One of her coworkers managed to elbow his way through and push her into the boss-stallion's office, some other mailponies firmly preventing the crowd from following her behind the package counter into employee-only territory.

The boss's office was a small, chaotic room, with piles of paper on every conceivable surface organized in a system only the boss-stallion seemed to know. His window blinds were blissfully closed, shutting out the reporters.

"Hey, Ditzy, so you finally made it—Woah." As he turned from sorting through some files piled on a chair, the boss-stallion finally got a good look at her. She was still a bit pale and shaking slightly, her wings pulled in tight to her body. She was rubbing her forehead with a stifled groan.

"I’m sorry, sir. The camera-ponies made it a bit hard to get here."

He peeked through his blinds quickly to see firsthoof the reporter swarm that had so jammed up his post office. "Yeah, I can see that. Look, Ditzy… you can't deliver mail this way. Not just because it'd slow ya down too much, but we can't just have a whole stampede of ponies going up on somepony's property every time you try to deliver a letter. Take the day off and deal with this, okay? Then you can come back Monday to business as usual."

Her heart sank, though she kept a smile on her face. If she was delivering the mail, she had an excuse not to answer the camera-ponies and maybe they'd leave her alone, like Flash Bulb had. If she walked out of here without mailbags, they'd be all over her. But there was nothing for it; the boss-stallion had a point. "Yes, sir. I’ll see you Monday."

The walk back out of the mailhouse was a lot harder than the walk in: more newsponies had shown up and a large number of Ponyville residents had also joined the press of bodies. By the time she had made it out the front door, she was almost completely immobilized. The questions had redoubled, as if to make up for time lost while she was in the boss's office.

"Ditzy Doo, can you confirm that Spitfire is leaving the Wonderbolts?"

"Ditzy Doo, are you and Spitfire fillyfoolers?"

"Please… leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please… "

Her voice went unheard. She shrunk in on herself; she was so confused. What were they talking about? Why wouldn't they leave her alone?

Ditzy had just seen Rainbow's face in the crowd when the mass around her suddenly shifted and pulled back from her somewhat. Looking up she saw her friend Spitz, clad in a blue flightsuit, come shooting down from the sky. She landed a short distance away from the reinvigorated throng and stood waiting calmly. The reporters, having garnered little from Ditzy, quickly turned on their new prey.

Spitfire baited them along, flashing a warm, 'celebrity' smile. "Ladies and gentlestallions of the associated press, as Ditzy is still recovering from her accident, I will be answering a limited number of questions in her stead before I return to the aerodrome."

As the reporters and no small number of village ponies flocked to the celebrity, Rainbow Dash trotted up to her and whispered in her ear. "C'mon, Ditzy, follow me. She'll ditch the reporters and meet us at my house." She gave the still disoriented Ditzy a little shove to get her going, and the two of them snuck, as much as Ditzy was capable of sneaking, into a nearby alleyway. From there, they quickly made their way across town, which was now blessedly void of reporters, and up to her magnificent cloud home.


Ditzy immediately collapsed on a nearby couch as Rainbow Dash moved a cloud to block the open doorway. They existed in awkward silence for a while, both remembering their last meeting. Rainbow Dash finally shuffled over to the couch, standing next to her collapsed form. "Hey, uh, Ditzy…"

She turned to look at Dash, with a forced smile on her face. "Oh, thanks for the help, Rainbow Dash. For helping me get away from those camera ponies, I mean."

She winced. After all she'd said to her, Ditzy was still being nice. She didn't deserve to be thanked by her. "No, Ditzy, I wanted…" She let out a breath and finished in a rush. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, for two nights ago. I didn't know about your promise, but I still shouldn't have… I'm sorry." She hadn't had a lot of practice at apologizing, but Ditzy's small smile reassured her somewhat.

"It’s okay, Rainbow Dash. I—" She was cut off by a sudden banging on the makeshift cloud door.

"Rainbow! Open up!" It was Spitfire's voice, and she sounded drained. Rainbow quickly moved the cloud, allowing the dejected-looking Wonderbolt into her home. Spitfire rushed over to Ditzy. "What happened, Ditz? How did this happen? Are you all right?"

The gray mare shot a quick glance at Rainbow, which she caught. "Oh, don't worry about her. I already told her we know each other."

Ditzy relaxed somewhat. "Oh, it was a silly thing. An accident. Don't be mad, Spitz; my Muffin found the picture of us you gave me and showed it to some friends at school. Word got around."

"Oh." Her surprise was evident. She shook her head with a rueful chuckle. “And here I thought it was some snooping reporter I could give a good pounding.” She quickly tensed up again, and tentatively asked her ritual question. "Ditz, with all that's happened… do you remember who I am?"

Ditzy gave her a skeptical look. "You’re my muffin-eater-friend. A Wonderbolt and... and you’re still my best friend, right?"

“Yeah, I am.” Spitfire slumped, but Rainbow noticed she was still tense, even if the answer had relieved some of her nervousness.

Dash cleared her throat. "So, uh, Spitfire, if… if you don't mind me asking… now what?"

Spitfire broke out of her slump to look at her with narrowed eyes, evidently still upset with her. "Now, we wait for the press to leave to make their deadlines and get Ditzy back home."

"Well, if we're just waiting… what's going on? How the heck do you know Ditzy?"

The object of her curiosity also chimed in, much to Dash’s surprise. "Spitz, what’s going on? The camera-pony’s questions are tickling in my mind. Why? Why are they asking such weird questions?"

Her friend turned away quickly. She mulled in silence, before turning back around. "Look, Ditz… I don't wanna tell you this… you shouldn't have to hear this. You don't want to hear this."

"Tell me."

The yellow mare looked at her with pleading eyes, which were beginning to fill with tears. "Ditzy, please don't ask me to do this. You don't know and—and you shouldn't have to—"

"Spitz." Her voice was commanding for the first time Rainbow Dash had ever heard. "I remember far back, and the earliest memories I have are being in a white room with casts and pregnant with Dinky. I want—no, I need to know. Who am I? They said we flew together? We flew on a team?"

"WHAT?!" Rainbow stood slack-jawed, staring at her like she had grown an extra head. "NO WAY! NO WAY! SHE WAS NOT A WONDERBOLT! NO WAY!" She turned back to Spitfire. "...Right?"

She sighed. "Ditz… are you sure?"

Her friend nodded, and she sighed again.

"Okay. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I guess it's better you hear it from me than read it out of some newspaper. Same for you, Rainbow Dash. Somepony besides Ditzy around here should know what really happened. No, she wasn't a Wonderbolt… quite. But by Celestia, she would have—she should have been. She was a better darn flyer then than half of us are now. Probably better than you, too, were it not for your Sonic Rainboom." She reached her head back around to her saddlebags, pulling out a worn leather book.

It was embossed with a title on the front cover, reading "The Amazing Ditzy Doo and Spitfire" in fancy silver filigree. She deposited it on the coffee table and flipped it open to the first page, which sported a photograph of two pegasus fillies, both very young, one yellow with orange mane and one grey with platinum blonde mane smiling cheesily. She was visibly tearing as the other two pegasi sat next to her on the couch and looked over her shoulder at the first picture in her album. "That's where we first met. It was summer flight camp, and you'd just moved to Cloudsdale…"

Ditzy was listening in a trance as the pounding in her head, triggered and tickled by so many reporter's questions, finally surged and coalesced into a long-lost memory…

Part 4: Childhood Memories

Spitfire and the other pegasi were almost finished with their afternoon warm-ups when the camp coach, Storm Cloud, a smoky grey Pegasus with a cloud pouring rain adorning his flank, interrupted their various stretches. "All right, everypony, c'mon over." He looked over his shoulder at a grey pegasus filly who walked up next to him and stopped. He put a hoof on her shoulder and turned to address the assembled foals.

"This here is Ditzy Doo. She's just moved to Cloudsdale and she's gonna be joining us for the rest of camp. Say 'hi,' everypony."

"Hi, Ditzy."

The newcomer returned their by-rote response with significantly more energy. "Hi, everypony."

Spitfire looked her over; she looked friendly enough. The newcomer sported an excited grin as she eagerly scanned the simple race course, though she examined the assembled pegasi a bit more shyly.

Storm Cloud interrupted her sizing up of the newcomer: "All right, fliers, two more minutes for warm-ups, then we hit the race course."

Ditzy winced and quickly moved off to warm-up with what little time she had.


Spitfire grinned as she stepped up to the farthest position on the starting line. In front of her was the race course: a simple circular track of solid cloud with cloud rails to contain the racers. She looked left at the others, smirking at the looks she got back, many of them resigned. The looks made her feel smug, energized her. They knew she was the fastest; speed was her special talent, as attested to by her fire-bolt cutie mark. She tensed up into a start position, ready to jump at a moment's notice as Storm Cloud approached the line.

It was time to win.

He shouted "go" and the fliers took off. Spitfire quickly pulled to the lead, her nearest competitors falling steadily behind despite their frantic flapping. She finished first with a clear and significant lead, only slightly winded, and slowed to turn and look at her competitors' progress.

She picked Ditzy out easily. She was trailing near the center of the main pack of fliers, though she was laboring heavily to maintain even that position, her chest heaving much more rapidly than the other pegasi's. Spitfire noticed her wings were a bit smaller than the others', noticeable now that she was amidst them, and they were flapping much more rapidly. As the last flier crossed the finish line, Storm Cloud went over to Ditzy and whispered to her quietly, causing her to blush and shake her head. He nodded slowly before waving the crowd of ponies toward the locker room, announcing a water break while he set up the next course.

Spitfire was standing in line to get a drink of water from the fountain when she was bumped from behind. She turned to see Ditzy rather quickly recovering from a push given to her by the pegasus that had walked up behind her: a rather stolid brown pony with a spiked black mane.

His voice was goading. "Heh, way to go, Ditzy Dunce. Heard that coach was afraid you'd pass out during the race. What's the matter, Tiny Wings? Is flying too hard for you?" He laughed derisively as he kept walking, cutting into the line for another fountain in front of a friend further ahead.

With his back turned as he walked away, he failed to see her crouch down to leap at him as her face turned to a rictal snarl, as well as Spitfire's quick grab to prevent her from doing so.

"Woah there, Newbie. If Coach finds out you've been fighting, he'll ground you for days. Trust me, I learned that the hard way."

At that she calmed down a bit and quit struggling against Spitfire's hold and shot a final, hateful glare in his direction before turning to her restrainer. "Thanks, I guess. What's his problem anyway?"

"Oh, you mean Bouncer? He's like that to everypony."

Ditzy's brow furrowed as she gave the yellow pegasus a closer look. "Hey, you're the one that won the race right?"

She couldn't help a small grin at being reminded of her recent victory. "Yup. I'm Spitfire." She held out a hoof to shake, which Ditzy took. "It's no biggie though; I win all the races. It is my special talent, after all." She nodded toward the cutie-mark on her flank.

Ditzy went slightly wide-eyed, and her voice held a tint of excitement. "I'm Ditzy… but I guess you already knew that, huh? It must be awesome to have a racing cutie-mark. You were almost a blur back from where I was."

They shuffled forward in line, Spitfire taking the complement in stride. "Yeah, it is pretty cool." She eyed her new acquaintance nervously. "Umm, I don't wanna be mean or anything, but were you really gonna pass out? I mean, I saw you were flying pretty hard…"

She looked away, blushing. "Oh it wasn't that bad… it's just my stupid wings." She extended one of the offending appendages and Spitfire saw that they were indeed smaller than her own, by a good two or three inches. "Dad says I'm just growing slower than the other pegasi. I think it's cause I never got to fly."

"What do you mean, you never got to fly?"

"Well…" She scuffed a hoof across the cloudface. "Our old house was an earthpony house in Manehatten. Dad says it—well, it wasn't the nicest part of town. Our street was more of a cramped little alley, and there were some scary kinds of ponies out there sometimes. He wouldn't let me outside without him there, so I only really got to fly inside our house or at this park we went to sometimes on the weekend."

Spitfire was shocked. She couldn't imagine something as horrible as constantly being kept from flying. "Oh, I'm sorry. That sounds… awful."

"Yeah…" She perked up suddenly. "But now that we've moved here, Dad says I can fly as much as I want, and I can play outside and stuff! It's gonna be great!"

"And that's why you're in flight camp?"

"Yeah. I love flying, and I'm gonna be the best flyer ever. Everypony knows the best fliers go through flight camp, so…"

Spitfire smiled weakly. Flight camp was full of pegasi like that: the weaker fliers who though flight camp would turn them into superponies. The camp took everypony, but in reality most of those weaker ponies couldn't keep up and dropped out after a month or two.

They had finally reached the water fountain when Storm Cloud stuck his head into the locker room. "Okay, fliers, five more minutes, then it's time for the Advanced Ring Course." The ponies let out a collective groan, of which Spitfire's was one of the loudest.

The clueless newbie looked around in confusion. "What's everpony groaning about? What's the Advanced Rings Course?"

"Well, he puts out a bunch of rings in an obstacle course, and you have to fly through them all."

"Oh. That doesn't sound too bad."

She grimaced. "Yeah, just wait until you see them. I never do great at rings, and the advanced course is supposed to be super hard. We'd better get out there before we're late." The two pegasi joined the crowd of ponies reluctantly marching out of the locker room.


The grey pegasus stumbled slightly upon exiting the lockers, staring up at the assembled cloud course. "Woah."

"Yeah… it's kinda like that." Spitfire was also staring as she walked and a feeling of dread shot through her. The convoluted course had spiraling helices, slaloms, zig-zags, twists, a loop series and one part that even shot straight up and down. And the rings, she noticed, were not all that big. This would not be pretty.

"This is gonna be great!"

"What?" Ditzy's enthusiasm shocked her. She had barely broken her gaze away from the course to look incredulously at the other filly, who was gazing starry-eyed at the insane course and sporting a truly manic grin, when Storm Cloud stole her attention again.

"All right, everypony line up, let's go."

Her enthusiastic acquaintance shot past her and managed to make it to the front of the line, being one of the few ponies competing for the spot. Storm Cloud looked up from his clipboard and frowned, clearly dismayed at seeing Ditzy in front.

"Uhhh… you sure you wanna go first?"

"Yup!"

"Sure all that walking didn't wear you out, Ditzy Dunce?"

The derisive shout from behind made Spitfire jump. Recognizing the voice, she rounded on Bouncer. "Hey, leave her alone!"

He turned his sneer on her. "She'll still do better than you, Spitfailure! At least if she faints, she won't break any rings!" He laughed along with his cronies.

She was about to retort when the coach quashed their bickering. "All right, you two, that's enough! Step on over here, Ditzy."

He waved her over beneath the first ring. "Okay, the objective here is to fly through the rings as quickly as possible, breaking as few as possible. The time penalty for breaking a ring is pretty steep, so it's worth slowing down to avoid hitting one." He held up his stopwatch. "You ready?"

She crouched into a pre-leap position, the grin Bouncer had briefly dispelled returning rapidly. "Ready!" she shouted eagerly.

"Go!" he commanded, clicking the button as she took off.

Spitfire winced as she watched. Ditzy was flying only a touch slower than she had been flying in the race. She knew that if the overeager pegasus tried to take even the normal course at a racing clip like that, she wouldn't get too far without breaking a ton of rings. But as she watched, and the expected impact never came, she began to stare, barely noticing as the other pegasi stopped chatting to stare as well.

Despite Ditzy's speed, she hit every one of the small rings perfectly; every rapid turn she made was so graceful they looked more choreographed than reflexive. She used barrel rolls and over-wing flips on the slalom to preserve her speed, made the loops so tight Spitfire swore her wings would hit the cloudrings and did a full backflip on the vertical portion to shoot back downward, rather than turning with gravity. She dived toward the ground, flaring out at the last possible second to land gently on the cloudface. There was complete silence save for the reflexive click of a stopwatch button.

Ditzy's grin slipped a bit at the silence as she walked over to Storm Cloud. "How'd I do?"

His mouth, which had been hanging open, closed with an audible click of teeth. "Uhh… good. You did very good. Uhm… Sunlight, you're next. Get on up here."

With that, the other pegasi started chatting again, save for Spitfire, who was laughing heartily as Ditzy walked up next to her.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?"

She assuaged her with a hoof wave, still chuckling. "No, you were great. It's just—you should have seen Bouncer's face!" She did a rather stunning pantomime of the still-slackjawed bully and they broke into giggles.

"That was amazing! How the heck did you do that? I mean, even Coach was stunned."

"Well, like I said, I had to fly inside all the time. I got really good at tight-space flying and turns and stuff." She lifted her right leg slightly to show off her multi-bubble cutie mark. "Dad says it means I'm graceful. Other ponies say it means I'm fragile." She smiled wickedly. "Well, until they try and say it to my face."

As the pegasus in front of her finished the course, Storm Cloud waved Spitfire over. "Spitfire! You're up!"

She grimaced. "Here we go. Wish me luck."

Her attempt at the rings was less poor than usual; she only broke four or five rings, but Ditzy's recent stunning performance made her feel like a stone-winged buffoon. She walked back over to where Ditzy was waiting. "That was awful."

"It wasn't… too bad." Her hesitant tone was not convincing.

Her response was definitive. "It was pretty bad, Ditzy." She perked up a bit. "Hey, I was thinking… you wanna hang out after camp today?"

Ditzy's face lit up. "Yeah! I should ask my dad though, when he comes to pick me up. Y'know, cause we're still moving in and stuff?"

"Cool."

They stayed close as they went about the rest of their afternoon, chatting together as they performed their flying exercises and wing drills, Spitfire mainly answering Ditzy's numerous questions about Cloudsdale. Storm Cloud finally called a halt for the day, the fliers leaving through the locker room to where a line of parents were waiting outside to pick them up. Ditzy immediately headed for a beige pegasus stallion with a flowing blond mane, darker than her own, who sported three winged letters for a cutie mark and a camera around his neck. He trotted toward her and met her halfway.

"Heya, Ditzy Dear. How was your first day at Flight Camp?" He playfully messed her mane with a hoof.

She gave him a terse look as she flattened it, then broke out in a smile. "Pretty good. I won the ring course! Coach Storm Cloud said I got one of the best times for my age ever!"

He smiled back, sharing in her accomplishment, and scooped her up in a hug. "Hey, there you go, Champ."

"And—and, Dad, this," she waved with a hoof, "is Spitfire. She won the race today. She was super fast, Dad, you should… have… seen it…" She trailed off, both her and her father staring past Spitfire with mirrored incredulity.

Just as this was beginning to sink in, Spitfire felt a hoof land on her shoulder.

"Hey, Firecracker. Who's your friend?"

She whirled around to see an orange pegasus who had a cloud leaving a trail of flame for her cutie mark. The pegasus was smiling warmly at her, and she returned the smile readily.

"Mom!" She gave her a quick side nuzzle. "I thought you wouldn't be home till late!"

She gave her a short nuzzle back. "We were orienting the rookie today, Dear, so I got out a bit early. I thought we could do something fun, like get some sundaes maybe."

"Yes!" Spitfire hoof-pumped. Scoop's Cloud-Style Sundaes were of legendary deliciousness. She froze, immediately embarrassed; she'd almost forgotten about Ditzy. "Oh… could Ditzy come too? We were supposed to hang out together after camp."

Her mother looked over at Ditzy, still slackjawed in her father's hug, and chuckled quietly. "I assume you're referring to the filly."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom. This is Ditzy and uh… uh, her dad. Ditzy, this is my mom—"

The stallion finally managed to speak, and did so with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. "Cloudblazer! Oh Celestia, you're Cloudblazer." He dashed forward toward her, dragging his daughter along, and gave her an energetic hoof shake. "Speedy Doo, Ms. Cloudblazer, but friends call me Zippy. We're huge, huge Wonderbolt fans!"

She took it in stride. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Doo. Well, would you mind if Ditzy came along with us?"

Ditzy rounded on her father with full-force puppy eyes, bouncing in place. "Oh could I, Dad? Please?"

"Yeah! I mean, sure, of course. I'll uh… I'll unpack some of my stuff and I'll see you tonight, then. You do remember where the new house is?"

"Daaaad!"

"Okay, okay." He gave her a quick kiss on the head. "Bye, then." He had made it a couple of steps away before he stopped and came trotting back over. "Oh, Kiddo. Lemme get a picture of you on your first day of flight camp."

She groaned.

"Oh, c'mon. Lemme just get one of you and your friend."

She looked over at Spitfire who nodded. "...Fine."

He readied his camera as Spitfire walked up next to her. "All right… say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

They gave him wide smiles as the flash blurred their vision…


Ditzy shook her head as Spitz finished, shaking herself out of her daze. She still stared at the photo, her head pounding. She remembered this, but it was so foreign. It was difficult to take all of it in:

The sensation of being a filly?

The feeling of flying so perfectly?

The strangeness of seeing through normal eyes?

A father?

It was all too much. She felt a bit nauseous, but the pounding in her head was a little weaker.

Spitz continued, her eyes slightly unfocused and a tightness creeping into her voice. "We became best friends; despite how differently we flew and how we came from different places, we were so alike. Striving to excel, hilarious," she chuckled, "hot-headed and proud."

She flipped through a few pages. The pictures of birthday parties and school events sparked a sense of familiarity, but nothing more than that without Spitz explaining them.

"We got teased a lot in school, about our flying and how close we were. We got into a number of fights, as I recall. But they were just jealous."

She turned the page to a clipping of a short newspaper column, slightly crinkled and yellowed with age. There was a picture of her, Spitz, and a dozen or so other young pegasi sitting at a banquet table. The headline read "Cloudsdale High annual Sports Award Banquet marks end of season." With some effort, Ditzy focused on her younger self in the picture: her face looked… different. Younger, yes, but… sleeker. Less round, with more pronounced cheek bones and a stylishly waved mane. And the eyes, of course.

Spitz idly tapped the clipping with a hoof. "That was it—that was my senior year. Just a few months before graduation…"


Spitfire couldn't remember being so nervous. Well, apart from last season's Sports Award Dinner. As she looked to her left, it appeared that Ditzy wasn't faring much better; she was shaking slightly with excitement and her eyes were noticeably wider than usual. She kept tapping her right hoof atop her left as she waited.

"And MVP for the Speed Weather team is… Westwind!"

Ditzy gulped as the exuberant pegasus went up to the small podium at the front of the room to give his acceptance bit. The award for the Skydancers was up next. The speed of her hoof tapping increased slightly. Spitfire put a hoof on her shoulder.

"Hey, you'll get it. You won it the last two times and you'll win it this time."

She nodded, but her tapping did not slow.

Westwind finished and the school's sports administrator retook the podium. "Next up, the award for MVP of the Skydancers synchronized flight team is: Ditzy Doo!"

Ditzy popped up out of her chair and rushed up to the podium with less than her usual grace, her face plastered in a wide grin. "Thank you so much, everypony, and thanks especially to my dad," she eyed said pony sitting at the parent's table, who grinned and gave a short wave, "for moving us here and making this possible. I also wanna say that being the cooperative sport it is, I couldn't have done this without the support of the rest of the Skydancers."

The Skydancers scattered about the tables in the room gave a short cheer.

"Finally, I wanna announce that with Breeze graduating this year, I will be coming in next season as formation head and flight planner. Thank you."

Everyone applauded and stomped heartily as she left the podium, except her father who added energetic whistling to his applause. Spitfire was happy for her, and got so lost in her congratulating that she almost forgot her own anxiety for one fleeting moment before the administrator retook the podium.

"And finally, the award for MVP of Junior Speedsters goes to… Team Captain Spitfire!"

She felt the tension burst into elation as she went to take her place at the podium, priding herself on doing so much more calmly than Ditzy had. "Thank you, thank you. I want to start off saying that we had a great racing season team-wide."

Cheers rose from the Speedsters.

"It's been great, these years I've had with you guys, and I'll be sorry to leave you all."

“Awww”s issued forth.

"But I'll be leaving you in the very capable, talented hooves of Soarin here, and I hope you all come and see me next year after graduation when I compete, for my first year, for Best Young Flier."

Everyone cheered and applauded her as she returned to her seat, her mother stomping along quietly. Ditzy gave her a clap on the back.

"How will I get through senior year without you?"

"Ha. Well, you'll just have to cope."

Ditzy's grin faltered. "Seriously… I'm gonna miss you, you know? But I'll be there to see you win that crown." She gave a soft chuckle, then engulfed her in a quick hug which Spitfire didn't try to resist.

Her eyes got a bit teary, but she was still smiling. "I haven't graduated yet, Ditz. Save the goodbyes for then, all right?" Ditzy broke away from her as a short, yellow-orange pony with a russet mane and a camera approached the table.

"Hey, everypony, lemme get a quick shot of you guys for the local section."

The ponies at her table excitedly posed for the camera, relishing the chance for fame.

"Excellent. Hold it there…."

The shutter clicked and the flash hurt her vision.


Ditzy faded back into reality, and realized she was grinning. She didn't understand; why was Spitz so reluctant to tell her this? She liked having a fillyhood, even if she didn't remember all of it. Her headache was only a dull throb, and she felt… more full, more whole, with these memories reclaimed. The feeling of fillyhood seemed less odd to her, her face in the picture looked a little less strange.

"I don't get it." Rainbow Dash was frowning. "What does you winning Best Young Flier have to do with Ditzy?"

Spitfire gave her a knowing smile. "Well, that's just the thing..."

She turned the page, where a white ribbon entitled "5th place" stood opposite a page torn out of a weekly planner.

"I didn't win. Man, that was one of the worst days. I was so depressed after that…"


Just finishing a day at the factory, a dark grey unicorn with a pale, blue-white mane and a stack of coins cutie mark floated a loaf of bread over to the table as he sat down heavily. He was scowling. His job was simply dreadful, and the pay so meager for such a degrading occupation. But he was used to degradation, as evidenced by his less-than-stellar Manehattan apartment. Idly, he levitated the newspaper over from the coffee table, and dropped the bread in shock as he read the headline: FAMOUS FLYER DITZY DOO DISCUSSES WONDERBOLTS IN SECRET WITH TEAM LEADER SPITFIRE. He read the article rapidly, and when he was finished, his scowl had turned to a fevered grin. So she'd been found, had she? His dinner forgotten, he moved to the bedroom and levitated a suitcase out of his closet. He transferred some clothes from his drawers, in case he had need of them, but more importantly to cover up the dagger that followed the clothes into the suitcase. And she had a daughter...

Part 5: The Best Young Flier

She saw the cloud begin to spin out of the corner of her eye, felt the shift in the air current around it. She had not gotten it spinning very fast before it abruptly sucked her in. She got trapped in the spin and shot out backwards, barely managing to stop herself before hitting the cloudface below.

"Manure-smelling, spinning son of a…" She landed, quickly launched a short tirade of curses aimed at clouds everywhere, and stomped the cloudface beneath her. Eventually, she ran out of curses and took a calming breath, which did little to actually calm her, then launched herself toward the next detested white mass.

She had gotten the new cloud spinning a bit faster than the first before she lost control, but she did not manage to completely stop her herself this time and crashed into the cloudface. Only briefly bothered by the light impact, she jumped back to her hooves and set a dagger gaze on the cloud. By Celestia, this cloud was just—

"Hey, Spitz. Whatcha doing?"

Though Ditzy’s voice wasn't particularly loud, it made the distracted pegasus jump a bit.

"Hey. How'd you know where I was? I didn't expect anyone to find me here." She didn't turn around, and her voice sounded strained even to her.

"You always come here when you want to be alone. Yeah, I figured I'd work on my routine a bit. I've had one in mind for a while." Ditzy's voice was still soft. She'd never heard her speak that way. Not a whisper, but… gentle.

She didn't need to be coddled. "You're practicing pretty early. Wish I'd done that instead of going out with just a couple months of planning and making a fool of myself yesterday."

Ditzy walked up and put a hoof on her shoulder, patting her gently. "Oh, don't say that. I thought you were amazing."

Her eyes stung. She didn't need to be coddled, and she really didn't need to be pitied. She pulled her shoulder away. Her tone was ripe with sarcasm, but her voice was shaking. "Oh, yes, I was just fabulous, wasn't I, sitting there in 5th place? Well, it's too bad that nopony cares what you think or I would have taken that crown away."

The hoof stopped patting and started shaking. "Well… maybe nopony cares what I think, but I'd hoped that maybe you would." She spun around, heading for the exit.

She had made it about a dozen steps away before Spitfire whipped her head around and reached out to Ditzy with a hoof. "Ditzy, wait."

She went a couple more steps before complying. Her harsh look melted to one of concern as she looked back over her shoulder.

Spitifire's voice was tremulous and strained. "I'm… I'm sorry… I just…" The hoof which had been reaching out to her retreating friend started to knead at her eyes. Her gaze dropped to the clouds beneath her.

She felt like she was about to cry.

She never cried.

Suddenly, Ditzy was there, pulling her now-sniffling friend into a half-hug. Spitfire leaned on her shoulder, breathing ragged, sniffling madly and her eyes filling with tears. But the tears never fell. Despite her failure and missing her chance at what she wanted most, she still could not cry.

Ditzy held her as her breathing returned to normal and she started to get a hold of herself. She gently pulled out of the hug, blushing slightly.

"You all right?"

"Yeah…" She sniffled again. "Yeah, I think I'll be okay." Her eyes were still watery and her smile was half-hearted, but she felt better. "So, uh… you said you were here to work out your routine?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was planning to. Why?"

She swirled her hoof on the cloudface, her blush growing a bit deeper. "Could… could I see it?"

Ditzy raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"I mean, you saw my routine yesterday. I just wanna see what I'm gonna be up against, is all." She gave a short chuckle and a forced smile.

She contemplated a moment before smiling gently. "Sure. I could use your input on it anyway. Just remember, it's still pretty rough right now," she said, shaking a hoof at her with mock sternness, "so don't just shoot my wings full of holes, okay?"

Her smile grew more genuine. "Deal."

By the time Ditzy had her clouds in place, Spitfire was almost back to normal. Her face still felt a bit hot, but at least she wasn't sniffling anymore.

Ditzy's ring section was impressive as always, though a bit simple for a mare of her skill, and while she was a bit shaky as she went through her sharp-turn pillars, her free-flight at the end removed any lingering doubt as to why she was named MVP of the Skydancers. But it had been made painfully obvious to the observing pegasus that if you didn't have both speed and grace, you wouldn't place.

Ditzy just didn't have the speed. Compared to the pegasi they'd seen yesterday, her relatively dainty pace was not that impressive.

The performing pegasus landed next to her and gave her a look that was less than hopeful.

"So, what'd you think?"

She was careful to keep her face neutral. "It was pretty good. I saw you slip a bit during the pillars, but I think you caught that."

"You didn't think it was too slow?"

"Oh, pssh." She gave Ditzy a disregarding hoof wave. "You know me. I think everything's too slow."

Ditzy slumped. Well, she hadn't really expected it to work. Ditz was too self-critical to be so easily assuaged. "It's too slow. I saw them yesterday; almost everypony who got above 7th place was almost as fast as…" She turned to look at her.

"…As what?"

"As you." Her discouraged expression slowly faded as she began to pace, occasionally tapping her chin in thought. After a few moments, she stopped pacing and stood in front of Spitfire. "Okay. I have an idea." She held up an upturned right hoof. "I've got the stunt flying part down, but I'm too slow to be exciting." She switched, holding her left hoof upturned. "You're one of the fastest fliers ever," Spitfire nodded graciously, "But your precision flying is—uhhh… needs work."

She nodded again, if a bit less enthusiastically. "No denying that."

Her voice picked up in excitement. "So if I teach you about stunt flying and you can train me to fly faster..." She reared up and slammed her front hooves together with a resonating clop. "Boom! We'll win for sure!"

Spitfire's smile turned slightly sour. "Teach each other? I dunno, Ditz; that'd just be too weird."

"Hey, I'm still flight planner for the Skydancers, and you were Team Captain of Junior Speedsters for like two and a half years. We were both multi-year MVPs. Who the heck better to teach us than each other?"

"Well, I was thinking of asking mom to—"

"Ha! Yeah right. I mean, no offense, but we both know what your mom's schedule is like."

She had her there. She hadn't really harbored much hope of her mom helping her out anyway. She'd be lucky to get an hour of training a month out of the perpetually busy Wonderbolt. She let out a long sigh. "Okay. Let's do it."

"Yes!" She shot out her foreleg and Spitfire quickly high-hoofed her, then she spirited over to her saddlebags, returning with her school planner and a pencil. She leaned down and set them on the cloudface, flipped through the planner to the last week of the year and carefully tore it out. She took up the pencil and scribbled furiously, then spit it out to point at the items she had outlined in the week.
"Okay. So I have Skydancers practice after school until six, except Fridays, and you work at the weather factory...?"

"Eight to five."

She scribbled it in. "Okay, so that's seven to ten in the evening, then five to seven in the morning. Say noon to six on Saturday, then Sundays off?"

She mulled it over a bit before nodding. "Yeah, that works."

"So I'll teach you in the evening and you teach in the morning."

"Nah, alternate it. I'll do Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the morning and Tuesday and Thursday evenings."

"And we work on routines Saturday."

"Right."

As they planned, Spitfire shot a defiant glare at her own saddlebags, within which lay yesterday's hated white ribbon. She had never lost a competition before, but she sure wasn't going to a second time.


Spitfire stared up at her archnemisis, which floated patiently waiting for her, mocking her with its soft, puffy white substance which she knew stung quite a bit when slammed into. She refocused from the cloud back to her… teacher? Mentor? Yeesh, what was she supposed to call her friend-turned-instructor? One thing was for sure: Ditzy sure seemed to enjoy her position, and she was more long-winded than quite a few of Spitfire's real teachers had been.

"—so when cloudspinning, it's important that you give to the cloud's pull a bit. If you try and fight it too hard, you'll either break away or get on a bad angle and get sucked in. Also, try to lean in toward the cloud a bit. Angle your wings like this, okay?"

She was so lost. "Uhh… okay!"

Spitfire took off, soaring up and around the cloud, trying to do everything Ditzy had told her to do. She failed miserably and once again tumbled into the spinning cloud. "WOOOAAAAH!" She shot out of the cloud, Ditzy barely managing to dive out of the way. She had stopped, but her world was still spinning, and far faster than the cloud had been. She clutched her head and groaned, praying for the vertigo to end.

Her impromptu instructor had no sympathy for her. "What was that? Did you even listen to me at all?"

She groaned again. "Gimme a sec here…"

Ditzy crossed her arms and hovered impatiently until Spitfire got herself under control. Once her head left her arms, the waiting pegasus continued bombarding her. "You were fighting the pull, you didn't angle your wings at all, your flight track was—"

"DITZ!" Her friend stopped, momentarily shocked by her outburst. "Look, I'm not one of your synchronized flier buddies, all right? I've never had stunt flying lessons and the most I manipulate clouds at work is to push them around! I didn't get half of what you said to do!" She took a slow breath and continued a bit more calmly. "Look, if this is gonna work, you're gonna have to explain a lot of this to me, and not just yell at me about how lousy I am."

Her face fell from the chastisement. "You're right. I'm sorry. I guess this will take more getting used to than I'd thought." She chuckled weakly, then held her wing out at an angle, pointing to it with a hoof. "Okay, look here. You angle your wing to better line up with the cloud's pull…"


Ditzy half-stumbled into the gym, with eyelids drooping and yawning blearily. She staggered over to her annoyingly active friend who was busy doing push-ups. "Mgghfh."

Spitfire stopped her warm-up and fixed the dour Ditzy with a bright, cheerful smile. "And good morning to you! It's a wonderful day we have ahead of us, so let's meet it with some energy and a big smile!"

Ditzy was not amused and shot her a poisonous look. "Tell me why I thought five a.m. training was a good idea?"

"Oh, I can't remember. Something about Best Young Flier or something?"

"Ah, that was it. Well, I'm not gonna be best young anything at five in the morning till that coffee-bean muffin kicks in… anyhow, what are we doing? Push-ups?" Sounded easy enough.

She motioned the slowly waking pegasus to follow her over to the track, where two saddles affixed with weights were waiting on the simple loop of cloud. "Weighted flying!"

"…Huh?"

"It isn't too complicated, unlike somepony's lessons." Ditzy rolled her eyes and made a small circle with her hoof, motioning her to get on with it. "You just put on the saddle and fly laps. The extra weight helps build wing strength. Oh, and remember to time your breathing like I told you about last time. It'll help you out a lot."

"That doesn't sound too hard. Let's get to it." She leaned down toward the nearest saddle when Spitfire put her hoof on it.

"This one's mine. That one," she said, pointing a hoof at the other saddle, "is yours."

Ditzy looked at the other saddle, then back to Spitfire indignantly. "Oh, come on. Yours has more than twice the weight of mine!"

"Well, seeing as you haven't ever done this training before and that your wings are still a little shorter than mine, it seemed like a good idea."

"Fine!" She grumbled a bit, but worked her way into the saddle. Give her a kiddie version, would she?

Two laps later she had forgiven Spitz completely and just wanted to stagger over the finish line and go die somewhere. She finally reached the line and collapsed onto the cloudface, panting heavily.

Spitfire stopped and turned around, flying back over to her. The racing freak was just barely starting to sweat. "Uhh, Ditz…we're supposed to go for four laps, remember?

She groaned, fighting the feeling of nausea, but she managed to pull herself back up and slowly took off flying again.


"Wait, we're not gonna keep cloudspinning?"

Ditzy shook her head. "Nah, not today. We're not really getting anywhere with it right now. So I thought we'd try..." She lowered her voice lowered dramatically. "Rings."

"Oh, joy." The one thing she could possibly be worse at than cloudspinning.

"Now, now, rings are a great introduction to stunt flying, they just take some practice." She motioned for Spitfire up beside her as she slowly flew toward the ring slalom she had assembled. "One of the crucial components of stunt flying is that it requires a different method of thought than racing. In a race, you focus on the now: How fast am I going? How much farther do I have to go? What place am I in?

"While stunt flying, while in the rings, you have to think ahead, and perform many little motions in preparation for one big move. For example," she waved ahead of her, where she was approaching the first ring, "I should start twisting, shift my weight, and angle my wings while I am still inside this first ring so that I can immediately barrel roll and make the next. By doing it ahead of time, the motion looks smooth and practiced, and is far more controlled than trying to do it all at once." She demonstrated her barrel roll, which came off just as smooth as she had claimed it would. "You try."

She was a bit hesitant. "All right…" She tried to twist and angle ahead of time as Ditzy had, but only ended up rolling too early and feeling the slap of the cloud as she broke through the ring.

"No, too early. You tried to do it all at once. Less reflex, more thought."

"Yeah, I know."

"Okay, again." She went to the broken ring and flew through very slowly. "You have to start twisting right here, like this…"


She looked askance at the newest torture equipment Spitz was bringing out. It didn't look so bad, just… odd. "What the heck is that?"

Spitfire cackled. "This, my friend, will make weighted saddles seem a pleasant memory."

"They look like bandages." There was something embedded in the cloth, but she couldn't make out just what they… oh. "Bandages with weights?"

She lifted one of the long, cloth strips and extended a wing. "Yup, pretty much." She expertly wrapped the strip around her wing so that the embedded weights ran in a line along the underside. "The principle isn't too difficult: you just wrap and flap." She gave a few slow wing beats. "Unlike weighted saddles, wing wraps focus solely on the wings, rather than the wing and back. Just don't start off too heavy; these things can sprain your wingjoint in a heartbeat if you do."

After her third attempt at wrapping her wings failed, Spitfire helped her wrap them and supervised her first few flaps to ensure the weight and motions were right. Ditzy kept glancing at her wings as she flapped in place; they felt like they were larger than they should be. "This feels really weird."

"You'll get used to it. Okay, four sets, then we do timed laps. We gotta see if you can shave a minute off your training circuit…"


Spitfire sat on the cloudface, looking at that… that sun-blasted cloud to Ditzy and back again. Her friend was pacing and tapping her chin with a hoof as she so often did when in thought. She finally stopped. "Well, maybe we could… no, we tried that, didn't we?" The pacing resumed.

She grunted and kept racking her brain for some method they had overlooked. She'd been led through the paces, followed Ditzy in spinning, even had her fly next to her and physically correct her flight as she went around. But try as they might, she still couldn't spin that cloud.

Ditzy stopped again, sighing. "I just don't get it. You remember what to do, right?"

She gave her a level look. "Of course I remember what to do. You've told me so many times I hear it in my sleep."

"Well, it must be something!" She stomped the cloudface in frustration. "You're just pulling away or flinching out or… something." She looked askance at the cloud, then back to her. She tapped her chin a couple more times before freezing mid-tap.

"Close your eyes." It came out as a mere whisper.

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You must be doing something wrong. I've seen your approach more than a dozen times; your approach is fine. So this time, once you start to circle, close your eyes and just focus on the feel of the cloudpull and what I told you to do."

Her other eyebrow joined the first as her jaw slowly slid open. "You want me to try cloudspinning blind? I won't make it five seconds!"

"Then it wouldn't put you too far behind your previous attempts, would it?"

She was silent for a time. As much as she wanted to say something, what could she say? It was true. And it wasn't like they were getting anywhere now.

"Don't think of it as flying blind. Think of it as removing distractions."

"You just wanna see me crash, don't you?"

Ditzy gave her a tired look. "Would you just shut up and trust me? Go on."

"Fine, I'll do it." She took off, shooting around the cloud as she must have done a thousand times before.

Ditzy shouted up to her from the cloudface below. "Now close your eyes!"

She hesitantly squinched her eyes shut. Okay, just focus. Lean in toward the cloud, angle the wing… this was stupid. She was gonna crash. She felt the pull of the spin strengthen and she sped up. This was it. The cloud would pull her in and shoot her out any second now. She winced and braced herself for the impact when she heard what she shortly recognized as laughter from the pegasus below.

That was all she needed, her friend laughing at her as she wiped out. She was about to yell at her to quit it when Ditzy shouted up to her.

"You got it, Spitz! Keep going!"

"Huh?"

She peeked with one eye, then opened them both in shock, staring at the cloud next to her, which was spinning far faster than she had ever managed to get it going before. She was doing it. "WOOOOHO-AAAHHHH!" She let out a triumphant shout shortly before she was consumed by the pull. She was again spun around and shot out, though this time much faster. She eventually petered to a stop, clutching her head, fighting down the nausea and moaning loudly.

Ditzy hurriedly flew over, chattering excitedly at her, oblivious or uncaring of her fragile state. "That was it! You did it! You've got it!" She laughed. "Well, I mean you had it. It was still a little rough, but it was good for your first time. Up until you opened your eyes, I mean. Then it didn't go so well. Oh, I almost forgot. Wait here for a second, I'll be right back." Ditzy flew off toward their saddlebags.

Right, like she was going to go anywhere. By the time Ditzy had flown back over with her father's camera strapped around her neck, her stomach had settled a bit and she was no longer seeing double.

"What's that for?"

"Get over in front of the cloud, before it stops spinning." Ditzy grinned. "We have to celebrate this momentous occasion."

"Oh, shut up." She said it in good humor, still elated by her success, and complied with her request, flying in front of the cloud and showing off her victory pose.

The camera flashed.


Spitfire chuckled quietly at the picture beneath her hoof, still amused by the ludicrous "victory pose" she had sported as a filly. Not to say she didn't still have a victory pose, but it was far more dignified now.

"That was some of the most intense training I'd ever done. Up to that point, of course. It was all so new, so confusing." She gave a soft chuckle. "It seems so easy, looking back on it now." She paused, still halfway lost in thought. "It was worth it, every second of it. Next time Best Young Flier came around, we were ready." She turned the page to where another ribbon lay, though this one was not white. She stroked it idly as she had done years ago.

"Of course, you couldn't tell our nerves that…"


"Okay, numba six, you're up!"

Ditzy gulped and spared a moment of her nervous hoof-tapping to glance back at her flank, which was adorned with a number eight. Spitfire couldn't help but feel some of the same nervousness that was plaguing her friend, though her own flank sported a number thirteen. She was certainly no less susceptible to pre-show nerves.

Though they were standing next to each other behind the red curtain that led out to the cloudiseum, she hadn't said a word to Ditzy since they had entered, nor had she spoken to her. What could you say to your best friend who was, however temporarily, your greatest rival? Someone you trained with so intensely, helped along for over a year, but now had to leave in the dust? She couldn't think of anything, and so they sat in an awkward silence. Spitfire finally broke the ice, if to do no more than try and calm Ditzy down.

"Hey, Ditz?"

"Yeah?"

"Look, no matter what happens I just… I just wanted to say thanks. Y'know, for helping me out and everything?"

She chuckled weakly. "That's… that's what I was gonna say to you. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Me neither."

They shared a brief hug, patting each other on the back. The moment of calm was shattered by the shrill call of the event coordinator.

"Numba seven, let's go!"

They broke apart and Ditzy resumed her hoof-tapping. When she spoke again, her voice was shaky. "Hey, you remember that double-loop? Cause I've been thinking that maybe it doesn't really fit—and I haven't really done—"

She tried to make her voice sound soothing and assured. "Ditzy, it's fine. We went over this a hundred times. I saw it; your routine is great. Just focus on the routine, do your best, and you'll do fine."

She nodded and took a couple deep breaths. She almost looked calm when the event coordinator shouted again.

"Number eight! C'mon, let's go!"

As Ditzy walked toward the curtain, Spitfire called out to her, her grin turning wicked. "Just don't be upset when your best isn't enough and I go home with the crown."

Ditzy looked back over her shoulder, returning her grin. "Maybe if you're nice, I'll let you touch my crown before I spend my day with the Wonderbolts."

"Is that so? Well, maybe I'll let you rub the blue ribbon. Just so you can remember what they feel like."

Ditzy turned her head back around as she broke through the curtain into the cloudiseum, disappearing behind it to the tumultuous sound of cheers from the crowd beyond.

She kept staring at the place where she had vanished. "You go ahead and give it your best, Ditz," she whispered, "cause my best is gonna be better."


A short time later, the two pegasi were sitting together watching number fifteen finish his performance and quickly dart out of cloudiseum flight area. They looked at each other, Spitfire shaking her head to which Ditzy nodded slowly.

"Yeah… he started off good, but it kind of deteriorated. "

"He was just too nervous. You could see it. After he messed up the first time, during the tight spins, he fell apart."

"I feel bad for him. Poor guy held at the mercy of his nerves."

"Well, it's not like we weren't nervous. I'm always nervous before a performance but I never let it show. Otherwise... well, stuff like that happens."

Ditzy nodded toward the six Wonderbolts judges, who had just flown behind the curtain and into the now vacant backstage. "So now they vote on the winners, right?"

"Yeah. It usually doesn't take very long. If the last guy was pretty good it usually takes longer, but I don't think that'll be a problem this time."

It took a scant five minutes for the judges to reemerge and assemble behind the award stand that had been brought in during their absence, the most senior Wonderbolt handing a scrap of paper to the announcer before joining his fellows. Ditzy noticed for the first time that Cloudblazer was not among the Wonderbolts assembled.

"Hey, Spitz, where's your mom? I thought I saw her here…"

She gave her a condescending eye. "Duh! They aren't going to let her judge if I'm competing. She's over in the VIP seating."

"Oh, right, so she's just here for the day out with the winner."

The announcer's voice boomed over the roar of the crowd. "Fillies and gentlecolts, without further ado: the placing pegasi!"

"In third place, number five: Starlight!"

The periwinkle pegasus shot out of the crowd to take his place on the third place stand, smiling and waving as he received his ribbon.

"In second place, number thirteen: Spitfire!"

She flew toward the stand quickly, her face sporting a smile as wide as Starlight's before her. But for all the excitement and pride she felt, there was a small sense of disappointment. She hadn't made it. She'd lost.

Again.

She tried to focus on the positive. At least she'd placed this time, even if she wasn't taking home the crown. She could only hope that Ditzy would get first. She could stand losing to Ditzy.

"And in first place, this year's Best Young Flier…number eight! DITZY DOO!"

Ditzy gave a rather undignified squeal and flew out to take her rightful place on the award stand. She was handed a blue ribbon and crowned by the senior Wonderbolt. The crowd cheered, none more loudly than her father, though his whistles and stomps were lost in the din of the pegasi surrounding him.

As she began to wave at the adoring crowd, it was not to her father nor the Wonderbolts that Ditzy looked, but over at Spitfire. As the Wonderbolts began surrounding and congratulating her, she gave her a small nod and a smile. A short, private smile before the beaming grin returned. Spitfire nodded back and managed to return a small smile of her own.

She started chuckling as Ditzy flew off with the Wonderbolts, who she was chatting up amiably. "Next time, Ditzy Doo," she whispered. "Next time."


"Wait—wait—wait—wait—wait." Rainbow Dash interrupted Spitfire's recollection, frowning. "You guys vote for Best Young Flier? There's a second place?"

She chuckled. "Well, usually. We were obviously incapable of doing so while unconscious; Princess Celestia had to name a winner herself. You were clearly first, from what I've heard, so it wasn't too big of a deal. Second and third place would have been a bit harder to judge, so there was only first place."

"...Oh."

She returned to the album. "Every year after that first year, Best Young Flier was really two separate competitions: me and Ditz for first, and everypony else for third."

She flipped through a number of pages quickly, and Ditzy was proud to see a few more red ribbons amongst the blue. Though Spitfire didn't speak of the other competitions as she turned the pages, the memories were flowing back to her more easily. She half-remembered Spitfire earning those red ribbons whenever she had won a blue one. She really had been as good as Spitfire.

Rainbow's frown had not disappeared. "Those reporters..." She shrank back a bit as Spitfire glared at her; apparently, it was still a sore subject. She hurriedly explained herself. "Those reporters said you guys flew together. You don't do that in Best Young Flier..."

"You do when they're running a little late. It isn't common, but it isn't exactly rare." She smiled fondly. "That was when it first hit us, when we knew for sure what we were gonna do. It was my last year competing for Best Young Flier..."

She turned the page and Rainbow gasped at what lay beneath the protective sleeve.

Part 6: The Amazing Ditzy Doo

Spitfire stood waiting with Ditzy in the cloudesium’s mostly vacant backstage, staring pointedly at competitor number twelve as the event coordinator called for him for a third time. She leaned over to whisper in Ditzy’s ear. “By Celestia, what is taking him so long?”

Ditzy whispered back, the colt in question only a few short steps away, trembling his way toward the curtain. “He’s got the jitters, and bad. I heard he almost threw up in the bathroom a couple minutes ago.”

The yellow colt took a deep breath, put on a shaky smile, and rushed out into the cloudiseum. Number thirteen sighed and shook his head as he walked over to the curtain to wait.

Spitfire stared at the curtain incredulously. “I never get ponies like that. If you’re that nervous before you go out there, it’ll only get worse when you actually are out there.”

“I think it’s his first time. At least, I don’t remember seeing him last year.”

“Well, that’d explain it.” She chuckled. “I remember I was like that my first time.” She poked at Ditzy with a hoof. “You were like that, too, except way worse than me: all worried over your routine and tapping your hooves.”

She hit back, grinning. “Oh, I wasn’t that bad. I mean, I was nervous, sure. But I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh yeah, right. You were almost crying.”

“I was not! Shut up!” Ditzy pounced at her. She sidestepped, skirting away as Ditzy chased after her. Number thirteen began to watch their antics with an amused expression, until they got a bit too close. He jumped back suddenly to avoid the path of the two dervishes and they froze as he nearly stumbled out into the cloudesium. The three pegasi held their breath as the light blue pony carefully stepped away from the curtain, prompting a collective sigh of relief.

He rounded on Spitfire with a frown that the twinkle in his eyes betrayed. “You almost got me in trouble there, Spitfire. Again. And here I thought you’d grown beyond such juvenile displays.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. He said it with such a straight face. “Oh, lay off, Soarin. A few birds on a racetrack never hurt anypony.”

He smiled. “‘A few?’ There were almost thirty of them, and it was during practice. The Speedsters were pissed at you.”

She smiled back. “Well, they just don’t appreciate my training methods. Besides, you seemed pretty supportive when you were helping me catch them.”

“Numba thirteen, let’s go!”

Soarin jumped as the event coordinator shouted from right behind him, then scowled at the two mares, whose faces were pictures of innocence. “You saw her standing there, didn’t you?”

Spitfire felt the corners of her lips waver as she tried not to crack up. “Maayyyybe...”

“C’mon, thirteen, hurry up!”

He disappeared through the curtain and they looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes. They broke out laughing at the same time.

“He jumped, like, a foot!”

“Ha! Poor sap. Hope he isn’t too disappointed when he has to take home third. Again.

Spitfire’s laughter petered out, and her face grew more solemn. “I sure hope he does. He did well last year: he’s a really good flier. He’s fast, always on the ball, and he does some nice cloudwork.”

“Sounds like somepony has a cruuush...”

“Oh, I do not!” It was her turn to pounce at Ditzy.

They roughhoused a bit, Ditzy finally admitting defeat after failing to ward her off. They were still catching their breath and giggling when the event coordinator returned. They separated, picking themselves off the floor and blushing furiously.

“Listen you two, we’re running late. We’ve only got time time for one more performance, so you’ll both have to go on together.”

She turned to Ditzy, wide-eyed. “Well, we—”

“I guess we—”

Ditzy stopped, waiting for her to speak.

“...We can use your music, Ditz. I don’t mind.”

The event coordinator left and they took up positions behind the curtain.

“And now, for the final performance, contestant number fourteen...” At the announcement, Spitfire dashed out from behind the curtain, shooting up to her starting position and flashing a showy smile at the cheering throng. Though he never announced her name, the crowd knew who she was, and they cheered for her more loudly than any of the others.

They loved her, and she reveled in it.

“...and contestant number fifteen!” The cheers redoubled as Ditzy came out, waving madly and beaming as she flew up to her.

“Try not to crash into me, okay?” She grinned and took off toward her own starting position before Spitfire had a chance to retort.

The music started and they took off, Spitfire shooting through a section of high-speed column zig-zags and into a series of tight loops. As she accelerated to form a sonic cone, she heard a brief surge in the crowd and stole a glance at Ditzy, who was finishing her ring section and starting a slalom series. Spitfire wobbled, and nearly lost her cone. She refocused on her own flying, berating herself for getting distracted.

She broke the sound barrier and made a quick series of quick turns and vertical shifts, shooting back and forth through a series of cloud rings without bothering to slow down. She held her speed as she angled past two small clouds, catching them in her wake and dragging them along on either side of her in a series of rolls and twists. She ended her supersonic flight with a half-loop and dive that was so fast it sucked in the two clouds, which collided and fractured into tiny puffs. She continued her dive toward the cloudface, flaring out at the last possible second and landing with a resounding slam.

The crowd went wild, and their cheers rose further still as Ditzy landed moments later. It was a veritable cacophony; she was afraid the stomping pegasi would crack the dense cloudesium seats. The announcer sat stunned, and even a few of the Wonderbolts appeared at a similar loss for words. As she stood waving and listening to the crowd with Ditzy smiling giddily next to her, everything seemed to click into place. Everything was as it should be: her, a victorious stunt flier, her best friend beside her, and all around them an adoring crowd which had never cheered louder. It was a perfect moment, and she finally managed to see why; she’d performed brilliantly, sure, but the crowd wasn’t cheering so loudly for her.

It was for the both of them, when they flew together, that they roared. In that moment, she knew that flying with Ditzy was exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She turned to look at Ditzy, and saw a similar elation in her eyes. Spitfire took a step toward her, a step Ditzy mirrored. They stood next to each other and, as one, raised their hooves in triumph, holding their new victory pose for a few seconds before they were cleared off the cloudface and the Wonderbolts went backstage to vote.

They made their way to their seats in the crowd and just sat silently for a time, coming down off of the rush and excitement. Spitfire finally broke the silence. “That was... amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that, in all my time flying. It just felt so...”

“Right.” Ditzy didn’t turn when she spoke and still looked slightly out of it, staring vacantly out at the cloudesieum. “It just felt right, like that’s what I was born to do. Was fly with—” she gave a faint gasp and shook herself out of her daze, blushing slightly. She was pointedly avoiding Spitfire’s gaze.

“No, I felt it too. Maybe we were meant to fly together, not just help each other out. We just never had the chance before now.”

Ditzy shook her head. “It’s a shame that this is your last competition then, isn’t it? We’ll never get the chance again.”

Spitfire frowned. “Way to ruin the mood, Ditzy. What about when we’re Wonderbolts? We’ll fly together then, won’t we? In fact...” she looked around, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Why wait that long?”

Ditzy looked around in confusion, then whispered back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I—”

"Fillies and gentlecolts, without further ado: the placing pegasi!" The announcer cut her off and she turned away from Ditzy, cheering along with the rest of the crowd.

“In third place, number thirteen: Soarin!”

Soarin shot out of the crowd, taking his place on the stand and shooting a acquiescent look over at her and Ditzy. She couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and raised her voice to speak to Ditzy over the crowd. “At least he’s taking it well!”

She shouted back with a grin. “Well, he should! He’s had plenty of practice at getting third place!”

“In second place, number fifteen: Ditzy Doo!”

Ditzy smiled, flying out slowly to land nonchalantly on the stand, accepting her red ribbon with dignity. She turned and gave Spitfire a small bow, holding a hoof out invitingly toward the vacant first place spot.

“And in first place: number fourteen! SPITFIRE!”

The crowd erupted once more as she flew forward and took her rightful place on the stand. Though it was supposed to be her grand finale, she had felt surprisingly calm the whole time. Though it was her last time, she didn’t really care too much if she ended with first or second place. It seemed almost anticlimactic compared to her electric moment on the cloudface. She smiled and waved lazily, stealing glances at Ditzy out of the corner of her eye. She wouldn’t have cared if they gave her second place, or even fifth place again. She’d found a prize greater than even the victor’s crown.


The next day, Spitfire waited nervously for her mother to get home. She was pretty sure her mom would go for it.

Pretty sure.

Maybe.

Probably.

She jumped a bit as the door opened and broke her train of thought.

“Hey, Firecracker.” Cloudblazer took a good look at Spitfire’s face, then gave her daughter her full attention. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, mom. How are you?”

“Stop dodging. What’s going on?” She fixed Spitfire with a firm stare that brooked no nonsense.

She sighed. Well, no sense in beating about the bush. “I... need some bits. Well, more than some. A pretty large number of bits, actually. I’ll pay you back,” she added hastily, “just as soon as—”

“Does this have anything to do with the rather sudden plan to leave the weather factory you mentioned yesterday?”

“Kinda, yeah.” She gave a nervous smile that melted under her mother’s stare. “Look, I’m sorry if you don’t approve, but—”

“Hold on, now, I never said I didn’t approve.” Her face grew thoughtful, but she continued to stare at Spitfire intently. “You’ve talked it over with Ditzy?”

“Yeah, and she seemed to like the idea. She’s going to put in some of her own money as soon as she can get it together.”

“And you have everything planned out?”

“Well, a rough timetable. We’re going to meet up tomorrow and start to hammer things out.”

“Hmm. Well, I know how futile it is to try and stop you once you get your heart set on something.” She finally smiled. “I think it’s great. I’d be happy to lend you some money.” She walked over to Spitfire and gave her a loose hug. “Let’s be honest, dear: I’m not going to be a Wonderbolt forever. Everypony knows you’re a shoo-in for the team, and this could only help you out in that regard.”

She let go of Spitfire and left the room, returning a short time later with a bag of bits in her mouth, which she plopped down on the table. “This,” she said, pointing a hoof at the bag, “is a holdover, so you have money to eat. Once you and Ditzy make a more detailed plan, I’ll get you a larger loan.” She laid her hoof on Spitfire’s when she tried to reach for the bag. “I have one condition.”

Spitfire gulped, feeling a small lump form in her throat. “What?”

Cloudblazer grinned. “Your first show can’t be on one of my performance dates. And I expect to be given a front row seat.”


Spitfire sat at the café, poking at a sandwich and idly tapping the table with a hoof. She turned to look at the café’s clock, then returned to her tapping with an irritated sigh. Ditzy wasn’t just late, she was nearly half an hour late. While she wasn’t always precisely on time, she’d never kept Spitfire waiting this long before. Spitfire was starting to consider leaving when the door opened and Ditzy walked in, sliding quietly onto the seat across from her.

Spitfire couldn’t quite manage to keep the resentment out of her voice. “There you are. I was beginning to think you’d...” She finally noticed the redness around Ditzy’s eyes and her irritation was forgotten. “What happened? Is everything all right?”

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

She gave Ditzy a disbelieving look. “What happened, Ditzy?”

Ditzy gave a tired sigh, then smiled disarmingly. “Really, I’m okay. It’s just... Dad was, well, less than thrilled at first. I think I hurt his feelings a bit; he was so happy that I’d followed him into the mail business, and us working at the post office together meant a lot to him. He said I shouldn’t give up a good, steady job to go on an ‘irresponsible joy-flight.’ So I got mad, said I could be something better than a boring old mailmare. After that, we got in a fight and I just... left. Walked out.”

Spitfire certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “Oh, Ditz, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he'd take it so hard.” Mr. Doo was one of the nicest, funniest, good-natured stallions she knew. She couldn’t even remember a time when she’d seen him angry.

“He was just upset. It’s understandable; I doubt I was as tactful as I coul—should have been. He came to see me this morning, apologizing for yelling at me and stuff. He said if I thought it was right, and if I had a shot, I should go for it.” She chuckled slightly. “Said for that many bits, I’d darn well better succeed.” She shook her head, then reached out and grabbed Spitfire’s plate, pulling it back over toward her. She took a bite out of the uneaten half of her sandwich, waving her other hoof placatingly. “Anyway, I got my share. How’d things go with your mom?”

Spitfire was silent for a moment, contemplating how to tell Ditzy just how surprisingly easy her experience had been in comparison. “Uh—well, it was... kinda similar...”


Nine months. Nine months of constant training, drilling, synchronization, poster printing, finding a staff, drumming up the pubic, and begging for a venue, but they’d made it. On the other side of the curtain were over two hundred cheering ponies seated in the stands, all waiting to see them. No judging, no contestants, no short routines, and no ‘one at a time’: just her and Ditzy. Spitfire grinned. Her and Ditz were more than enough.

Ditzy stood off on the far side of the backstage area, twitching slightly and muttering to herself as she quietly went through the routine again.

Opposite her, the announcer opened the side door and poked his head in, making two small circles with a hoof.

Two minutes. Spitfire nodded at him and he disappeared. Ditzy, still engrossed in her recital, had missed the exchange. Spitfire snuck up behind her and got as close as she could before she spoke. “Hey. Two minutes.” She was pleased to see her friend jump slightly. “You ready?”

“You know it.” She flared out her wings and gave them a couple of rapid, energetic flaps. “Let’s go.”

They walked over to the edge of the curtain. Ditzy, who would go out first, crouched down in a jump position.

Spitfire started to speak, then shut her mouth again, shaking her head. A couple seconds later she finally spoke up. “Hey, Ditz?”

Ditzy stayed in the jump position, only her mouth moving in response to the inquiry. “Yeah?”

“...What if they don’t like it?”

She did turn at that, looking slightly puzzled. “They’ll like it. C’mon, Spitz, they wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think they’d like it.” She flashed a comforting, though somewhat mischievous, smile. “Don’t tell me you’re actually getting nervous for once?”

Spitfire smiled back, put a bit more at ease by her friend’s confidence. “You wish, hoof-tapper. Just don’t mess this up.”

The announcer’s amplified voice cut her off from the other side of the curtain. “Fillies and gentlecolts! Today, making their big debut, I present to you: the multi-Best Young Flier Champions turned stunt-flying duo. Give it all up for those two outstanding pegasi: The Amazing Ditzy Doo and Spitfire!”

The curtain pulled back and Ditzy shot into the air, spinning more rapidly and turning in tighter and tighter circles as she went. Spitfire smiled. The inverse tornado was one of their harder stunts, and she knew Ditzy was gritting her teeth as she fought the downward pull. Her own job was easy; as Ditzy was close to forming the point of the funnel, she flew straight up, still on the inside of twister. She sped up as she climbed higher and reached Ditzy just as she finished the point, shattering the cyclone as the two pegasi broke off in opposite directions.

They turned back around and flew straight at each other, going faster and faster until they seemed certain to collide. They broke and crossed each other’s path at the last second, locking forelegs in midair and starting to spin violently. She winced; she was always afraid she’d get the timing wrong and end up dislocating one of Ditzy’s legs. But she seemed fine and they broke apart cleanly, her shooting straight up, with Ditzy diving straight down.

She turned over her wing and shot down to where Ditzy was waiting, turning out of her dive to angle toward a ring course. Ditzy started to orbit her rapidly and kept orbiting as they went through the course of rings just barely wide enough for the both of them. Harder still were the rings split in two down the middle, but she hit them perfectly, without changing the speed of her spin. As Spitfire cleared the last ring, she accelerated and started a sonic cone. Ditzy’s orbit started spinning slower and slower as she put more effort into matching her speed. Finally, they were shooting straight up side by side as they broke into twin sonic booms. They went up for a while before they slowed to a stop and started to drift back down toward the ground.

They both started orbiting each other then, slowly at first but accelerating rapidly until they made a pair of conjoined tornadoes. It was her turn to grit her teeth as she fought the pull from Ditzy’s twister. They separated as they reached the bottom of their funnels, stopping suddenly to land next to each other on a precisely positioned cloud platform.

Spitfire felt a knot in her stomach as she stood staring at the silent crowd. They didn’t like it. She knew it. What had she done wrong? Everything had gone perfectly... hadn’t it?

Her anxiety dissolved as the crowd started cheering. She posed, flashing a brilliant smile at the crowd, and gave a few short waves. Once she’d let the crowd rev itself up a bit she trotted to the edge of the cloud, in perfect step with Ditzy, to continue the show. She knew they’d love it.


Spitfire paused as Rainbow slowly reached out and ran a halting hoof over the poster, stopping when she reached the title. “The Amazing... Ditzy... Doo,” she whispered incredulously. “All this time, and I never knew...” She ended up staring at Ditzy, her expression drifting between pity and awe.

Ditzy’s hoof shook slightly as she stared at the stylized image of her in a banking dive just beneath the “DOO” in the poster’s title; “THE AMAZING DITZY DOO AND SPITFIRE” in a fancy, gold type, identical to the embossment on the book’s cover, with the two of them swooping in dramatically. At the bottom,“Eight bit cover, half charge for foals.”

Her headache was gone, but she started to feel ill. Her old life, spurred by the recovered memories, was starting to feel more and more normal, while her current situation felt less and less comfortable.

Spitfire smiled at Rainbow. “I’m not surprised. That’s why we picked Ponyville, after all. We toured cities most of the time, so nopony out here knew her.” She shrugged. “Most rural areas tend to favor rodeos over stunt flying.”

“But—but how come I’d never even heard of...”

“Well, we started out rather small, and we never really had time to grow into anything big.” She flipped a few pages, showing other posters and advertisements for their show with the occasional picture with a fan beside them. Almost all of the shows were in small venues. “We only had four—well, threeish—short seasons of performing whenever and wherever we could get a good place.”

Rainbow turned to look at her, puzzled. “Why ‘threeish?’”

Spitfire opened her mouth, looking uncomfortably at Ditzy.

But Ditzy already knew the answer. “Dad.” This memory was different from the others. This one was a painful memory, a sad memory. Uncaring, her mind filled with indistinct images; black suits, crying ponies, her giving a speech. A casket. Ditzy frowned, shaking her head slowly and squeezing her eyes shut as they started to tear up a bit. “It was a... a... something...

“A robbery.” Spitfire spoke softly, reaching out to pat her shoulder gently. “He was leaving the show to head for a hotel. Some pony in the crowd saw him coming out of the VIP seats and thought he was a rich target. Your dad fought back, there was a knife, and... I’m sorry, Ditz.”

She nodded solemnly, gently removing Spitfire’s hoof. “It’s okay. I guess I always knew my father wasn’t here, I just didn’t, well, know, I guess.” She frowned. There was something off about what Spitz had said.“That wasn’t why we stopped, though, was it? There was something else...”

Spitfire smiled and gave a short laugh. “Yeah. Just when we were about to get our big break, something else came up. But it eliminated any real chance of starting back up again.” She turned a page, wherein lay a picture of Spitfire, another Wonderbolt and her mom. Below the picture was a letter headed with a winged lightning bolt.

“Dear Ms. Spitfire,

Due to Cloudblazer’s recently announced retirement, you are invited to compete against other aspirants for a position on the Wonderbolts Precision Flight Team in front of a paying audience at the Wonderbolts’ aerodrome...”


The crowd died down as Razorwind waved them to silence. Spitfire stood behind him with the other contestants, holding her breath. She was both anxiously awaiting and dreading his announcement. Normally, when she felt nervous, she’d make a crack at Ditzy or see if she needed some support herself. But Ditzy wasn’t here. She hadn’t been the same after Mr. Doo died; Spitfire had barely seen her since the funeral months ago. She kept herself hermited away and only rarely bothered to answer the door when Spitfire went over to try and talk to her. She shook her head slowly. It wasn’t how she’d pictured things going at all.

Razorwind regained her attention as he started to speak. “After proper deliberation and careful examination of the scores awarded for both the standard course and the free-flight competitions, we have chosen, from among these twenty select fliers, the next Wonderbolt.” He turned to walk solemnly in front of the contestants, coming to a halt in front of her. “Ms. Spitfire.”

The crowd erupted and she almost gasped in relief before she could stop herself. Something must have shown on her face, though, as Razorwind sported an amused smile as he leaned in to shake her hoof. “Congratulations, Ms. Spitfire.” He turned, taking a blue suit and goggles from her mom, who was smiling fit to burst. He held them out in front of her. “Welcome to the Wonderbolts.”

Shaking, she reached out to take the uniform. The others contestants, who had been applauding politely, parted as the three made their way inside. Once out of sight of the public, Spitfire ran ahead of the other two, rushing to the locker rooms. She rapidly donned her new suit and stood staring in the mirror, grinning madly and shifting poses rapidly. It felt too good to be true. Her mom and Razorwing entered along with the other Wonderbolts. They started applauding her, slapping her on the back and calling out congratulations to the “Rookie.”

As the greetings wore on, her smile started to slip, and she stopped replying so readily to her new teammate’s congratulations. Her mother eyed her carefully, then raised her voice to speak over the other Wonderbolts. “All right, guys, best get out and face the cameras. I’ll prep her and we’ll follow you down in a second.” They shuffled out, still laughing, leaving the two of them alone. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “It isn’t right. Ditzy should have been here. She should be the one wearing this.” She ran a slow hoof over her uniformed foreleg. “I wouldn’t have won if she’d been competing.”

Her mother frowned. “Now, I don’t think that’s true. You shouldn’t belittle your own talents, dear; you’re a very skilled flier. Don’t think you didn’t earn this.” Spitfire didn’t respond, and she went on hesitantly. “We sent her an invitation, too, you know. She never wrote back.”

Spitfire nodded. Of course she wouldn’t have; if she didn’t even go outside, she probably wouldn’t care too much about writing letters. “I just...” Her voice grew raspy. “I just thought she’d be here, at least. I always thought she’d at least show up...”

Her mom smiled and leaned around her, looking past her pointedly.

Spitfire whirled, and there she was, coming out from behind a tall row of lockers. “Ditzy.” Her eyes went wide. “But how?”

Cloudblazer chuckled. “Just because I’m retiring doesn’t mean I can’t get a pony backstage. I’ll give you two a moment.” She walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

They were left in an awkward silence, before Ditzy finally kicked a hoof guilty. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I, uh,” Ditzy cleared her throat. “I saw your competition. The others weren’t even close, were they?”

“No, not really.”

The silence returned before Spitfire decided to head straight for the heart of the issue. “I thought you hadn’t come.”

“No, I came, I just... I wasn’t ready to fly a routine, so soon after...” Her eyes started to tear up. “I just couldn’t.”

Spitfire’s breath caught. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” It would be an unthinkable waste of her talent if she swore off stunt flying.

She sighed wearily. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I can go back to ‘The Amazing Ditzy Doo and Spitfire,’ what with you being a Wonderbolt and all, and touring alone doesn’t really appeal to me. Heck, we were hard pressed for shows when we were together; I doubt I’d get much on my own. Maybe I’ll just go back to being a mailmare.”

“NO!” Her intensity shocked Ditzy, who took an involuntary step back. She quickly brought her voice back down. “I mean, I know what happened was horrible, but you CAN’T just give up on everything! You wanted to be a Wonderbolt just as much as I did. Maybe even more!” She walked over and put her hooves on Ditzy’s shoulders, staring into her eyes as if to drive home the importance of plea. “You’re good, Ditz, gifted even. How many other pegasi can say that? How many other ponies can say that? Don’t let this one tragedy stop you.” She hesitated, but pressed on. “I—don’t you think he would have wanted you to try?”

Ditzy nodded shakily. “Y-yeah, he...” She broke down and started crying. Spitfire held her, patting her back and comforting her as her tears made damp streaks on her new uniform. The whole time, Spitfire tried to think of what it would be like if their positions were reversed: if her mom had died and Ditzy was the Wonderbolt. As Ditzy started to peter out, she dismissed the thought. She knew Ditzy would have done the same for her.

Ditzy pulled away, still a bit teary, but looking much more steady. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She coughed, then motioned her away with a hoof. “You’d better get down there. You’ve probably got whole mobs of ponies waiting for your autograph.”

“You sure?”

She repeated her shooing motion. “Yeah. I’ll be all right.”

Spitfire nodded and walked over toward the door, but stopped in the doorway after she opened it. “Hey, Ditz?”

Ditzy paused in her eye drying. “Yeah?”

“We’re going to fly together again. I’m gonna see you get that blue suit.”

She smiled, and the old Ditzy was back. “Count on it.”

Spitfire went through the door and made her way outside, where the other Wonderbolts were waiting. Hundreds of flash bulbs burst and the tumultuous din of reporters assaulted her senses.


Spitfire turned the page to a picture of her and Ditzy side-by-side, both smiling, Spitfire clad in her suit and goggles. “That was just after my first show.” She shook her head sadly. “As happy as I was, my joining the Wonderbolts strained our friendship pretty badly. You tried to deny it, Ditz, but I could tell it was a sore spot for you. How couldn’t it be? I went on to premier stunt flying, while you... well, you eventually ended up working back in the post office again to pay the bills. We had less and less time to spend together and we started to drift apart a bit.”

She flipped rapidly through a sparse selection of photographs and Wonderbolt performance programs from her various shows. She stopped at another picture of her and Ditzy, wherein Ditzy was holding up a rather familiar letter to the camera. “But then, three years later, you got your chance. We’d thought it would take at least six years before the next guy would retire. But then Razorwind’s wife got sick, and... anyway, we were sure you had it in the bag. You’d kept practicing, kept yourself in form. The uniform was all but yours. Or, so we thought.”

Before Ditzy could ask, Rainbow beat her to it. “So... what happened?”

Spitfire’s face twisted into a snarl and she bit the words out with a palpable vehemence. “Slate. Hooves.


Outside a Manehattan apartment complex, the dark grey unicorn waited impatiently for the incompetent taxi pony to load his bags. Finally, he managed to accomplish the simple task of settling his luggage in the back of a cab and hitched himself up to the front. “Where to, Mister...”

“Hooves. Ponyville, and quickly please.”

The cab puller snorted as he started off. “You ain’t another one of them reporters, are ya? If ya are, you’re a bit late. Had a whole mess of them headed off for Ponyville all yesterday. Not too many this morning, what on account of the rain and all, but still—”

By Celestia, what an irritating plebeian. He cut off the earth pony, less to answer his questions than to keep him from continuing to speak. “No, I’m not a reporter.” Unseen by the taxi pony, his face shone with a malicious grin as he turned to look covetously at his suitcase. “I’m going to meet an old friend...”

Next Chapter: Part 7: The Fall Estimated time remaining: 52 Minutes
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