They attended the races first, where speedsters of any species were welcome to test their mettle. The starting leg of the course was fairly generic, with fences or hedges placed every so often, sometimes with water-filled ditches just behind to force a longer jump or a draining climb out of the muck. It wasn’t until after the first turn that the famous Ponyville Summer Sun Celebration Racecourse began to show its teeth. The ground rolled suddenly into small hills along the course, with a deep brook across it. Most racers forded it, and hoped to make up the speed elsewhere on the track, but a rare few attempted to leap onto the small pier on the opposite side.

After the second turn, the racers found themselves on a bridge over the brook itself. Some sections of the bridge would drop abruptly into the chilly water. Those unaware or unlucky enough to find themselves dunked had to swim back to the first leg and climb back onto the pier.

Beyond the bridge, the course braided its way through a set of swinging logs. The rhythm changed every year. These logs weren’t intended to harm, but could still bruise a slow racer. Most of the racers would try to slalom through them. However, if you learned the rhythm, a lot of time could be gained here.

By the fifth turn, the brook had grown into a swift-moving river. Rafts on ropes traversed the stream in fits and starts. Fording this was impossible for all but the strongest racers, so most lept from raft to raft until they landed back on the dusty track. Falling in usually meant a long, embarrassing swim back to the pier after the first turn and a huge loss of time.

The sixth turn led to the most challenging obstacle: ten yards of thick, sucking mud with only five ropes bridging the gulf. The racers, tired, sweaty, and shaky from the last five turns, would have to leap carefully onto the thick ropes and cross the muddy ditch or find themselves caught in the sludge. This usually resulted in a concession, but some of the strongest racers conserved their energy for just this strategy. Jostling the ropes above was considered bad form, but wasn’t illegal.

Once across this last ditch, the checkered banner marking the finish line was a short jog away. The whole course ran about three miles in total. Tempest had used it as his morning exercise when the course was empty. He had even competed before, but nothing had come of it.

Now, it was time to see what the pros could do. He could hardly wait. Tempest galloped ahead, and grabbed seats right against the track. “Over here, Meadowsong! This is gonna be great!”

As they took their seats, the barker called out: “Welcome to the Millennial Summer Sun Celebration qualifiers! Introducing, from the inside rail out, the racers!

“In lane one: we have a mysterious figure from across the bay. He’s known only as Xerxes!” The figure pulled back its hood to reveal a powerful-looking zebra, with his mane shaved. There was scattered applause.

“In lane two: she’s lean, she’s mean, she’s the cross-country queen. But will a course race ruffle her feathers? She’s Gwenhwyfar!” The griffon, covered head-to-toe in white feathers, roared a challenge to the sky. In the stands, her fans roared back, and stamped out an applause.

“In lane three: the maven of magic, the telekinetic terror, it’s Strobe Light! She’s a gutsy unicorn, on her fifth attempt to be the first unicorn to qualify for the Summer Sun Finals. How about that dedication?” Strobe Light waved to her fans, eliciting cheers and shouts of support.

“In lane four: he’s the strongest buck in the orchard, but will that help him on the track? Ponyville, give it up for your very own Apple Cider!” The yellow-maned Earth pony got the loudest cheer so far, with Tempest adding to the din.

“And last, but not least, in the outside lane, we have a surprise entrant: I can hardly believe it myself, folks. We’ve got one of King Sungleam’s personal pegasi protectors, carrying an impressive string of racing titles as long as her military victories, it’s that famed Flame, the Colonel of Cornering, Spitfire!” The noisy crowd fell silent until the fiery-maned pegasus stepped into full view and took a bow. Then, it erupted into cheers and thunderous applause that dwarfed the cheers for Apple Cider.

“Your Millennial Summer Sun Celebration racers, fillies and gentlecolts! Place your bets now and earn those Silver Points!”

“That hardly seems fair, don’t you think?” Meadowsong asked. “She’s quite good. I’ve, er, seen her before.”

“You just wait and see. Every race is different, and here in Ponyville, each of them has to stay on the ground. Those wings won’t help her at all, and take it from me: being a fast flyer doesn’t mean you can ground-pound for long. She’s gotta make it through all five obstacles, and the other racers know the course better than she does. In fact, my bits would be on Cider or Xerxes, if I was a betting colt. Which I’m not.”

“Done this before, have you?”

Tempest nodded. “Yeah. Turns out I’m not as fast on the ground as I am in the air.”

“Mm. Pity that you weren’t galloping towards those fritters, then.”

Tempest laughed, and nudged her shoulder with his forehoof. Below, the racers had finished limbering up, and were taking their marks.

The barker spoke up again, his magically-enhanced voice drowning out the cacophony of ponies jostling to register their bets. “You got ten minutes until bets close! Alright, racers, get ready!”

“Oh, I’d meant to ask, what are Silver Points? What’s their purpose?”

“Something we do here in Ponyville to liven up the Celebration. The more Silver Points you earn, the more you can spend to drive back the Gathering Dark.” Meadowsong raised an eyebrow, and Tempest continued. “Did you see that big, black, sinister-looking tent outside the fairgrounds? That’s the Gathering Dark. Or at least, our representation of it. See, each pony collects these Silver Points, and spends them to play games inside the tent. The unicorn that runs it is a mad genius; he’s got illusion spells that you’d swear are the real thing. So what we do is, we drive back Nightmare Moon’s forces in these games, like what happened four hundred years ago. Simple fun.”

Meadowsong nodded slowly. “I see. Where can we get these?”

Tempest swept his hoof around, as if to catch the entire Celebration within its circle. “Everywhere. Here, take my card, and go get in line. Remember, Xerxes or Apple Cider. Gut says Apple Cider.”

Meadowsong caught the card with her magic, and galloped off towards one of the betting stalls. Tempest flagged down a concessions pony, and purchased some popcorn and two ciders.

Canterlot, huh? I wonder if she knows anypony in the Guard. I mean, could you imagine…

And he could. When Meadowsong returned eight minutes later, he was striking martial poses, and dueling shadows with his wooden sword. She stood in amusement, watching him going from imaginary foe to imaginary foe.

“Take that! And that! That’ll teach you to invade Equestria, or my name’s not--” He froze as he met Meadowsong’s gaze. “Er...”

“Oh, no, don’t let me interrupt. You seem to have missed an invader.” She gestured behind him with her hoof.

Tempest flushed a faded crimson, and sat down gloomily. “Oh. I’m sure he’ll uh, he’ll be fine.”

Meadowsong just laughed. “Oh, cheer up, brave guardspony. If it makes you feel any better, sometimes I pretend to be at Broken Bough, too. Just my bow and I against the hordes of Nightmare Moon.” She presented a small crossbow with a bit-fitted loading bar, and then returned it to her saddlebag.

Tempest smiled a little, and slid her the second cider. “For you. We’re sharing the popcorn, though.” He winked. “Gotta make the rations last.”

They laughed together at that, as the race started.

Apple Cider, Xerxes, and Gwenhwyfar sped off, each trying to outpace the other. Behind them, Strobe Light and Spitfire emerged from the cloud of dust at a little better than a canter. Apple Cider hit the hedgerows, and cleared them with the confidence born of long days of practice.  Behind him, Xerxes slalomed around them, and Gwenhwyfar pounced to the top of each, leapfrogging them one after the other.

“And they’re off! Looks like Apple Cider in the lead, a good showing for the local buck. Gwenhwyfar and Xerxes are hot on his hooves, though, so he’ll not be getting any breathing room here! At the rear is Spitfire and Strobe Light! Could it be that they’ve conceded already? Or are they merely pacing themselves? Time will tell!”

Strobe Light and Spitfire entered the first turn. Strobe Light avoided the jumps completely, following Xerxes’ path through. Spitfire, however, jumped each hedge with a practiced ease. Each jump carried her further and further down the track, and away from Strobe Light.

Frowning, Strobe Light channeled her magic.

“What’s she doing?” Meadowsong asked. “Surely magic is as illegal as wings.”

“Enh, bit of a gray area. Can’t use it to directly affect the other racers or the track, but can psych your opponents out or small stuff for yourself. We’ll have to see.”

They didn’t have to wait long. As Spitfire leapt over the next hedge, a large yellow alligator roared out of the water trap behind it. The crowd gasped, but Spitfire did not seem to notice. She jumped through it, landing unharmed on the other side.

Strobe Light sighed, and galloped after the pegasus.

“Illusions?” asked Meadowsong.

“Yeah, she’s known for it. She does some work for some theatres as a special effects mare, but this is her real passion. I guess. She’s local, too, but I don’t know her that well.”

Apple Cider plunged into the cool brook, and forded it quickly. He’d no sooner shaken the droplets of water off, than Gwenhwyfar landed next to him on the pier with a roar. They took off, with Xerxes emerging from the water, behind by mere seconds.

Strobe Light and Spitfire both forded the brook, and were neck-and-neck going into the second turn behind the three other racers. As their hooves met the wood of the bridge, Spitfire charged ahead, putting a great distance between her and Strobe Light. As she passed Xerxes, Strobe Light flicked her ears back, and took up a more measured pace. Xerxes, perplexed by the pegasus’s sudden appearance, also slowed down some.

“Our mysterious racer has decided to take it easy for a bit and let the showponies wear themselves out! Strobe Light is closing the distance some, I don’t know if he sees her…”

Ahead, Apple Cider had almost cleared the bridge when the segment before him gave way. He whinnied and reared back, trying not to plunge headfirst into the water. Gwenhwyfar passed him, leaping over the gap with a triumphant roar.

“Hear that, griffon groupies? Gwenhwyfar’s overtaken Apple Cider! Now, he’s got to keep ahead of Spitfire, or he’s done for sure!”

Tempest grit his teeth and huffed. C’mon, you can do it…

Apple Cider cleared the gap only moments before Spitfire, and tried to maintain his lead. Behind them, Xerxes and Strobe Light cleared the gaps in the bridge created by the others’ passage. They left the bridge just as Apple Cider and Spitfire entered the swinging logs. Claw marks on the logs showed that Gwenhwyfar had hurdled them, like she had the hedges earlier.

Apple Cider chose to run behind the swinging logs, waiting until one had passed before ducking around it. Spitfire, however, just slalomed them, weaving in and out as if she’d run this leg a thousand times. In no time, she’d outdistanced him, leaving him in third. As she cleared the logs, Strobe Light and Xerxes entered. Strobe Light seemed at first to be following Apple Cider’s lead, but kept pace with Xerxes as he traced Spitfire’s path.

Just as he started to draw ahead of the other pony, a bright flash and a loud pop exploded next to him. He froze for a moment, unsure of what had just happened, and a log knocked him off the course. He snorted in anger, ran back to the entrance, and tried again. Another pop, and he found himself muzzle-deep in a pile of nettles. Strobe Light’s laughter could be heard all the way back at the stands.

Strobe Light then stepped through the logs with ease. She’d known the rhythm all along. She exited the logs just behind Apple Cider, who smirked to see the other local.

“Oh! And you can count Xerxes out of this one, folks! No way he can make up the gap now! Well played, Strobe Light!”

Ahead on the rafts, Gwenhwyfar was trying to time her jumps carefully. She’d almost ended up in the rapids a few times, either from jumping too early or overshooting her jump completely. She’d only made it to third raft when Spitfire arrived. Spitfire, winking and waving at the announcer ponies above, stretched one hoof over the spray created by the fast-moving water and just stepped out. She hit the spray, and kept walking.

As she passed Gwenhwyfar, the griffon looked up at the announcers in disbelief.

The announcers placed hooves to ears, and then shrugged at each other.

“Nothing against it, Gwen! Sorry! Spitfire makes short work of the rafts, and clears to the other side!”

Snorting with rage, Gwenhwyfar climbed up the rafts to the ropes above, and leapt from rope to rope. At the rear, Strobe Light paused, looking at each raft in turn. Next to her, Apple Cider plunged in and waded to the other side, fording this river with hardly any more effort than he had the brook.

“That’s the old Apple Acres brawn on display, fillies and gentlecolts! Just like that, he’s back into this! And what’s this? Strobe Light’s just bouncing in!”

Behind Gwenhwyfar’s frantic attempt to make up her time by clinging to the ropes overhead, Strobe Light had entered the hazard at just the right time to leap from raft to raft with very little effort. As she passed underneath the griffon, she paused.

Gwenhwyfar sprang at another rope. At the apex of her jump, another bright light, this time accompanied by a loud hissing sound. Gwenhwyfar bared her fangs and soared for a moment, hissing back.

“Disqualified! Illegal use of wings! An excellent play by Strobe Light!”

Strobe Light exited the rafts hazard in an easy third place. She hurried to make up the short distance between her and the leaders.

The final obstacle loomed ahead of both Apple Cider and Spitfire. Each pounced on a rope, and tried to walk along it to the other side. However, Apple Cider’s dip into the rapids had left him soaked and halfway across, he slipped. In his struggle to stay on the rope, he bounced off of Spitfire’s, and both of them hit the muck.

Behind them, Strobe Light wicked the water off of herself, and gracefully took a rope far away from the other two. She crossed it carefully, but still slipped once.

As she dangled over the muck, Apple Cider pushed on. His mighty muscles strained against the sucking mud, and he moved slowly towards the other side. But he moved.

Spitfire, however, had just sprung back up towards her rope and was shimmying across while hanging off of it. She was too light for the muck to pull her in as quickly as it had Apple Cider, and she reached the other side.

Tempest wished he could look away. All that bluster about “knowing the terrain” was about to be shot to pieces, as Spitfire enjoyed a commanding lead into the final stretch. She had almost pirouetted coming off of the rope, and cantered towards the finish, drinking in the cheering fans in the stands.

Her eyes locked onto Tempest’s-- no, he corrected, she’s looking at Meadowsong...

Spitfire stopped dead, staring.

Apple Cider emerged from the fifth obstacle covered in mud, and galloped like mad. Spitfire's lead had disappeared, and yet still she stared. Even after both Apple Cider and Strobe Light passed the line, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the enigmatic unicorn filly cheering Apple Cider.

“You were right, Tempest! He won!” Her joy was unmistakable, but Tempest couldn’t share it.

“Why is Spitfire staring at you?”

At that moment, the announcer’s megaphone burst with a shocked. “Dear sweet Celestia, she’s disqualified! Fillies and gentlecolts, Spitfire is disqualified! Illegal use of wings!”

Wings?

The crowd erupted in catcalls and cheers. Spitfire was flying right for him, mouthing something that looked to Tempest like “... impressed...” He glanced back towards the unicorn, and stared.

Meadowsong was nowhere to be found, as Spitfire rocketed past him into the catcalling herd of ponies.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, your Millennial Summer Sun Celebration Finalists! Apple Cider, Strobe Light, and Xerxes! Give ‘em a hoof, everypony!” Next Chapter: Chapter 4: Haute Coutere Estimated time remaining: 14 Minutes