I should have said something. I should have told her what was happening. I didn’t. I was stupid. I was a coward.

Celestia once asked me a question. I know now I gave the wrong answer. It was my fault for being so bucking pathetic. The only pony who supported me couldn’t do anything to help.

I miss Summer. Sometimes I wish I could go see her again. She probably wouldn’t want to talk to me. Can’t blame her.

Why do I have to think about this? Why are they making me write it? It’s not like anyone who ever reads this will care about my past. I’m just a little freak, after all. Rainbow wasn’t all that off about me.

I don’t want to think about this anymore. I’m gonna ask Uncle Fine if I can stop. I know I didn’t get the ending down, but

—Gulfstream Dust, Book of Shadows XLVIII,

June 4, 1007

Gulfstream chewed absentmindedly on a pencil, his cheeks resting in his hooves. Though his eyes were set upon the blank parchment in front of him, his mind was far away. Rainbow’s words from a few days ago echoed incessantly in his mind, refusing to let him think of anything else. His eyes shifted to the window; late afternoon. How much longer would he have to wait?

“Gulfie?” Summer Showers sat opposite the living room table, two-and-a-half pages of writing set aside. “Haven’t you started?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry. I just… can’t think.”

A hoof rested on his shoulder. He looked up to see a lone eye staring at him, the other aimed somewhere in the general direction of Summer. “Is something on your mind?”

With a sigh, he turned from Derpy to stare at the window. “I just wish Lightning would come home.”

“Why are you so worried?” Summer asked. “I mean, the weather’s fine and she’s the best flier in Cloudsdale. Maybe in Equestria.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and kept his mouth shut. He wished he could tell them what was on his mind. “I just… have a feeling something bad’s going to happen.”

“Like what?” Summer asked.

Like Lightning will still be in the tournament. “I dunno.”

Derpy tapped the paper in front of him. “You really will have something to worry about if you don’t finish this essay for tomorrow.”

He scowled and shoved her hoof aside.

“Come on, Gulfie, this one’s easy.” Summer gave him a smile that made him feel funny. “Just write a bunch of stuff about Celestia being an awesome military leader and Sombra being a dunce. Miss Dazed will eat it up and give you a perfect score, even if you get some of it wrong.”

Derpy frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a proper grading method to me.”

“You haven’t had Miss Sun Dazed for a teacher,” Summer countered with haughty confidence.

“No, but she sounds a lot like my history teacher back in school, Mr. Gaze.” Derpy rolled her eyes, a sight that was almost enough to make Gulfstream feel dizzy. “History teachers never change.”

Gulfstream stared out the window once more, ignoring the ongoing conversation in favor of thinking about Lightning. He’d expected her home an hour ago. What if she still wanted to be in the tournament? What if Rainbow tried to stop her somehow? She could have been met on the way back. Would Rainbow take such a desperate step? He had no idea.

Rainbow wasn’t the only threat. Lightning’s selection as Celestia’s representative was public news now. What if those other ponies Rainbow mentioned had tried something? Gulfstream knew Rainbow wouldn’t seriously hurt Lightning – at least not physically – but he couldn’t say the same for others.

Perhaps they’d interfered. Maybe along the way to Canterlot? Goddess, Lightning might be hurt and abandoned in some desolate spot on the way. She could have been there for days!

“Hey, Gulfstream!”

He jumped with a shout, his hoof lashing out to barely miss Derpy’s face. The instant he realized what he’d almost done, he dropped back into the chair and sunk low. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, honest!”

“It’s okay.” Derpy raised her hooves in a placating motion. “It’s my fault for startling you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I…” He chewed his lip, then turned to look at the window. He caught Summer watching him. A sick feeling rose in his stomach. His shoulders shook, and he realized that he was just barely keeping it in. “I j-just—”

The front door opened with a bang. “The star of the show has arrived!”

The world flew by in a blur as Gulfstream tore through the air, out the door, through the living room and plowed right into Lightning, who was ready and waiting for him. Rather than try to stop the impact, Lightning took it in full, flying out the door to crash into the clouds.

“Hey, kiddo,” she wheezed, laying in a heap on her side. “You’ve gotta find a better… better way to greet me.”

He just buried his head in her chest, a sense of contentment and relief washing over him.

“Hey, Lightning,” Derpy called from the door. “Welcome back to the city clean air and airless heads.”

Lightning chuckled. “Don’t go thinking you’re the perfect example of a Cloudsdale native, Derpy.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Dust.”

A gasp escaped Lightning, and Gulfstream had a strange sensation that his world was about to get a little warmer.

“Is that Summer Showers? Gulfie, are you inviting girls home now?”

He was in the air in an instant, but his escape was hampered by his tail caught beneath one of Lightning’s quick hooves. He saw the wicked glint in his cousin’s eye and knew he was doomed. “I-it’s not what it looks like! She’s helping me with my homework, that’s it!”

“Oh, really?” Lightning’s wolfish grin turned to Summer. “And what exactly does it look like, huh?”

“I-I don’t know!” He really didn’t. “But whatever it does look like, it’s not that!”

Derpy whistled and lightly bumped the grinning Summer with her elbow. “Somepony’s caught.”

Summer maintained her smile, but her brow furrowed as she looked between Derpy and Gulfstream. “Caught doing what?”

The response had Lightning howling with laughter. Or maybe it was the way Gulfstream was trying to hide his blushing face behind both hooves and wings, leading to him falling unceremoniously to the clouds.

Derpy was in a fit of giggles, but she had the presence of mind to bend down and whisper to Summer, “You’ll figure that out later. Promise.”

“Uh… okay?”

Gulfstream was little more than a ball of embarrassment half buried in clouds by this point. If he’d had his way, he’d have melted and descended upon the earth as rain, ending life as a messy puddle. Preferable underneath a very broad and heavy rock where nopony would find him.

Lightning, still huffing from laughter she didn’t quite have control over, lay on her barrel and nuzzled the back of his neck. “O-okay, Gulfie. I’m sorry. I won’t tease you anymore about your new marefriend… for now.”

“M-m-m-mare…” He ground his teeth together and refused to indulge her with a response. Or his tongue failed to cooperate. Either excuse was legitimate.

“Oh, look,” Derpy said just a little too loudly. “Now she’s blushing too.”

Gulfstream dared to glance between his pinions. Sure enough, Summer’s face was decorated with pink, her eyes on her shifting hooves. Her lips trembled as if she didn’t know whether to smile or frown. He just covered his face back up and prayed this whole topic would be forgotten soon.

“What’s with the knife?”

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind, and even longer for Gulfstream to risk exposing his burning cheeks to take a look. Lightning had stood up to display her left foreleg, on which was wrapped a tight brown band. The band held a white scabbard with golden engravings that sparkled in the sunlight. The humiliation faded from his mind as he gazed at the dazzling item and the handle of a knife emblazoned with golden fire. The grip was curved to fit in a pony’s mouth and the triangular pommel held within it a familiar sigil: the cutie mark of Princess Celestia.

“Whoa…”

Lightning caught his gaze and smiled. “Celestia gave it to me. A good luck charm.”

The implications of her words gradually seeped in, and his wonder faded for a dull sorrow. He looked upon her beaming face. “You’re still entering the tournament.”

“I sure as hay am! And I’m going to win.”

Gulfstream could hear the grunting from down the hall. He balanced a plate of noodles on his back and approached the door to Lightning’s room. Worry filled him as he stopped at the threshold to listen to Lightning’s rapid, rhythmic breathing. Sucking in a sharp breath, he threw on a smile and stepped into the doorway.

His cousin was performing wing-ups on the floor, sweat glistening all over her body. She kept her body perfectly straight, forehooves held behind her back, and pushed herself up and down with a speed that would impress any athlete. There was no waver or wobble, no shaking in her wings. Gulfstream would usually admire her at times like this.

But tonight Gulfstream felt apprehension at the sight. He walked into the room and set the plate down before turning to her. “Are you going to train all day every day?”

She didn’t look at him as she responded through her rapid breaths. “The… tournament… is… a week… away. Gotta… make sure…. I’m ready.”

He cast a glance at the knife still strapped to her leg. “You were always ready, LD. You couldn’t possibly be more ready.”

“You… never know. A little… extra work… never hurt… anypony.”

“A little? This is your fifth set today, not to mention the jogging, the chin-ups, laps…” He nudged the plate a little closer to her with his muzzle. “Come on, take a break. Eat.”

She did a few more wing-ups, huffing with each one, before muttering, “Five hundred.” With those words she sat up, wiped the sweat from her brow, and pulled the plate closer. “Thanks, Gulfie. I’ve really worked up an appetite.” She must have seen something in his expression, for her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

He looked down and rubbed his leg. Her wing came forward to rub behind one of his ears, prompting a small smile that didn’t last.

“Come on, Gulfie. Talk to me.”

He held out for a few more seconds. When he next looked up, he didn’t bother to conceal his concern. “Ever since you went to Canterlot, you’ve been obsessed with winning the tournament.”

“So?” she asked between mouthfuls of noodles.

“So… that’s not like you.” He rubbed the back of his head and averted his gaze. “You’ve always been about doing your best, about trying hard regardless of the result. You could make tenth place, and you wouldn’t care because you gave it your all and had fun. Suddenly, it’s all ‘win, win, win.’ ”

She shrugged, slurping down a few more noodles. “I just got a little ambitious.”

He gawked at her sweating face. “A little? It’s the only thing you ever talk about anymore.” He took a cautious step forward. “Lightning, what did Celestia say that got you so worked up?”

The eating ceased. Lightning stared at him as if she didn’t recognize him. Her eyes shifted to the knife strapped to her leg and a smile formed on her lips. “She told me… that she believed in me.”

He waited for her to continue. She didn’t. “Wait, that’s it?”

“Isn’t that enough?” Lightning set the bowl down and began gently rubbing the scabbard. “I have to honor the princess’s wishes. She wants me to win, and I don’t intend to disappoint her. Don’t you see, Gulfie? Celestia – Goddess of the Sun, the great giver of all that is good, our beloved shepherd – has chosen me. I’ve been blessed, and I have to pull through.”

Gulfstream’s ears fell flat against his skull as he took in her words. Something about them sounded wrong, and the way she stared at the knife made him uncomfortable. She wasn’t telling him everything. She couldn’t be.

But what was he supposed to do? Tell her he didn’t believe in her, that he thought she might die? It wasn’t like that would do her any good. It wasn’t necessarily true, either; he honestly thought she had a good chance of winning. Even so, he couldn’t escape a sense of impending… wrongness.

He chewed his lip as she went back to eating, wolfing down the remaining meal as if she’d not eaten in days. There was another test he wanted to offer, but to try it would be to walk dangerous waters. What if she took it the wrong way?

“W-what about… Rainbow?”

Lightning finished the last of the noodles and pushed the bowl away with a content sigh. “What about her?”

What did she mean, ‘what about her?’ That familiar heat was in Gulfstream’s heart again, though he wasn’t sure of its source. “She’s in the contest too. If you two have to face one another—”

“She’ll lose.”

The casual nature of the claim filled him with alarm… and anger. But he held the fire in check with the practice of years. He was almost proud of how neutral he managed to make his tone. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Lightning chuckled and patted his head. “I’m fine, Gulfie.” He got a good, solid look at Celestia’s cutie mark on the knife before she retracted her hoof. It seemed to taunt him, as if daring him to try and unlock some riddle. It took everything he had not to scowl at the thing.

“Good noodles, kid.” Lightning hopped to her hooves and began jogging in place, her wings stretched out to their full extent. “Heat me up another bowl, would ya? I’m going to need all the energy I can get.”

“Yeah… sure.” He turned away, the sound of her hoofbeats in his head. He’d do as she asked, but he wouldn’t like it. Deep down, Gulfstream had one disturbing thought:

That wasn’t the Lightning he knew.

The cloud house was awash in darkness. Not a thing moved; no wind shook the windows, there was no shift in the walls, even the air had a stale quality to it. For the first time in his life, Gulfstream wished he lived in something other than a cloud house. They were such quiet things. He could vaguely recall the orphanage of Foal Mountains, how it shifted and creaked at night. Gulfstream would have given anything for a home that made noise.

A cloud house never spoke. It didn’t creak or groan, it didn’t shift due to age. It was still.

Still like death.

That’s what Gulfstream felt all around him. Doom seemed to hang in the air, a focused inevitability that weighed upon him like a blanket of ice. No quantity of bedsheets could push back that chill. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to, even though he hated how cold and still and quiet everything was.

He didn’t want to hide from the chill. He wanted to get rid of it.

He had been lying awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and thinking on his lingering doubts. A sense of urgency filled him, but he didn’t know what it was pushing him to do. The familiar fire churned in his stomach, making him ill, but it was a minor nuisance compared to the things he’d witnessed in the last few days. He thought of Lightning’s behavior over and over again. The more he did, the more convinced he was that she’d changed.

Why was he so scared?

When he was little – well, little-er – he’d go to sleep with Lightning when he got scared, allegedly under the claim of protecting her, of course. He’d feel like a foal going to her now. Besides, what comfort could she give when she was the source of his worry?

But the tournament was just days away. The thought left him with a hole in his heart. The very concept peppered his sense of impending doom. He needed to see Lightning. So what if he looked like a baby doing so?

Steeling himself, he climbed out of bed and left his room. Shadows loomed in the hall, but still a sound met his presence. He moved quickly to Lightning’s door, doing his best not to think about how quiet the house was. The door opened without so much as a squeak, but he couldn’t pass the threshold. He stared into the dark of the room, breath clutched in his throat. It didn’t release until he saw the steady rise of Lightning’s chest over the bed.

The icy claw at his back retreated and the shadows didn’t seem so looming. He managed to contain his giddy giggle to a whisper, feeling dumb for worrying so much. He moved across the room, hoping to get a good look at Lightning’s face. She made some of the silliest expressions in her sleep.

He got halfway across the room when she shifted, turning towards him. Her left foreleg flopped over the side of the bed. To his dismay, the knife with its white and gold scabbard was still attached. The sight of it brought back that pit in his gut and the shadows came pressing down on him once more.

Now that he thought about it…

Gradually, one careful step at a time, Gulfstream approached the bed. His gaze remained locked on the knife. The closer he came, the less confident he felt. That blade… never had he seen it unsheathed. Never had Lightning removed it from her ankle. It remained there, all the time, ever reminding him that his sensible and kind cousin had become a new pony when she left for Canterlot.

He was by the bed now. Throat dry, he reached up to touch it. The moment he did, he felt something like a jolt of static electricity run down his leg—

“What are you doing?”

He jumped back with a yelp. Lightning stared at him, her gaze piercing and her teeth bared. There had been a viciousness in her voice he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before, not even when she’d threatened him for attacking Rainbow. He could almost swear there was a golden spark in her irises…

It disappeared, if it had ever been there at all. Lightning flopped back onto the bed with a quiet sigh. The danger in her voice had gone just as quickly, replaced by drowsiness. “Oh, it’s just you. Hey, Gulfie. What are you doing up?”

He opened his mouth to answer. No words came out. He didn’t want Lightning to be angry again, but something was wrong.

“I just… wanted to…” He looked about frantically for inspiration. His eyes fell on the scabbard. “I just wanted to see your knife.”

She raised her leg to examine the weapon, a smile forming on her lips. “Been on your mind for a while, huh? All you had to do was ask.”

His ears perked. “Really?”

“Of course. Just be careful, okay?” She let her leg fall limp before him, the hilt inches from his muzzle.

She watched as he leaned forward. He recalled that little discharge from before. Did he really want to take it?

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s just for decoration. Go ahead.”

Swallowing, he stepped closer and opened his mouth. The moment his teeth touched the hilt, he felt something cold flow into his body. He shivered, hesitated… then pulled the blade out. The sound of it rang through the night, shoving away the silence with a harsh clarity. The weapon felt unusually heavy for its length, which couldn’t have been more than six inches.

He sat back and took the hilt in his hooves, shaking as the chill continued to soak into his body. It felt as if there were a pressure radiating from the knife, shoving not against his body but his very soul. He thought about the time Twilight had captured him with her magic and knew it was very different… but he still suspected some kind of enchantment on the thing.

His eyes roamed up the double-edged blade. The center was thick, the two edges curving into an obtuse angle of a tip. Slowly, carefully, he reached up—

“Careful, Gulfie.”

He gave Lightning a reassuring look, then gradually, cautiously touched the edge of the blade. He pulled it away and looked to find a small cut in the wall of his toe. “Really sharp for a decoration.”

Lightning hesitated. “It’s… practical decoration?”

A lie. With a grimace, he gripped the blade in both hooves once more, hefting it up and down to test its weight. The fire was growing inside of him, fighting against the chill. He couldn’t get the lie out of his head.

With a snort, he turned away and put the hilt in his mouth. He swung the knife once, twice, a third time, each swing stronger than the last one.

Lightning’s voice became stern. “Careful with that, Gulfie. It was a gift from the princess.”

He knew that! The fire grew, his wings twitching with his anger. First she lied to him, now she was repeating crap he already knew. The chill tugged on the flame, feeding it, egging it on. He took the weapon in his hooves once more and thrust it forward, grinning maliciously as he imagined—

“Okay, that’s enough.” The weapon was pulled from his grip before he had a chance to think about it.

It was like being doused in cold water. He dropped to his haunches and gasped for air, the flame that had been building within almost winking out. His entire body shook and he held himself in a tight embrace. His ears folded to the sound of the blade returning to its scabbard.

Lightning crawled back into bed with a long yawn. “You okay, kiddo?”

No, no he wasn’t. He turned to stare at the knife, heart pounding and breath ragged. “L-Lightning, you’re not gonna take that to the tournament… are you?”

“What’s it matter?”

His lips trembled, he opened his mouth… and closed it. How would she react if he said what he suspected? It would be an accusation against the pillar of Equestria!

He changed tactics. “Are you going to use it?”

She set a fetlock over her muzzle, hiding her face. Frustration tinted the weariness of her words. “Only if I have to. Go back to bed.”

His heart sank, but his mind was churning out one terrible thought after another. He’d never get to sleep now, not with fear rampaging through his head. Dozens of ideas swam through his mind, including everything from stealing and hiding the knife to literally tying his cousin to the bed. He cast them all aside as hopeless.

With the grim understanding that he couldn’t help his cousin came a powerful dismay. There was also a clarity, a comprehension that these may be Lightning’s final days. It was stupid, he knew Lightning was capable and had a strong chance of winning the contest, and even if she didn’t, she probably wasn’t going to die because of it. But the idea forced vile roots into his brain and refused to go away. He was almost prepared to drop to his knees and beg her to reconsider.

Instead, he walked around the bed and climbed in. Lightning barely lifted her hoof to shoot him an annoyed glance, but he only rested at her side. After a moment, she lowered her hoof back over her face and said nothing, though she did offer a sleepy smile.

He tried to keep his crying as quiet as possible.

Gulfstream adjusted his saddlebags for the tenth time, wondering if he shouldn’t ring the bell again. The cloud house before him wasn’t any bigger than the one he shared with Lightning, but had the advantage of a large cloud yard surrounded by a wrought iron cage. The construction had to have cost a small fortune, to say nothing for enchanting it to be held by cloud foundations. It gave him the unpleasant image of a birdcage.

At last the front door of the house opened. A short, beige stallion peered out at him, his chin covered in a thick but short beard of orange. “Whaddaya want?”

Recalling his manners, Gulfstream bowed his head to the pony. “E-excuse me, sir. I was looking for Summer Showers? I’m a… friend from school.” The word ‘friend’ felt odd on his tongue, but pleasant.

The stallion examined him with a peering gaze, jaw set into a rigid frown. He turned his head back, one eye still locked on Gulfstream. “Summer. Get your rump out here, ya got company.” When the filly didn’t appear immediately he shouted, “Come on, move it! Ain’t got all afternoon.”

His tone made Gulfstream bristle, but he held his tongue.

At last Summer appeared, her ears tucked back and head low. Both immediately straightened when she caught sight of her guest. “Gulfie? What are you doing here?”

The world seemed just a little bit brighter, but Gulfstream’s frown didn’t fade. “Hey, S-Summer. I wanted to ask a favor. Can we… talk?”

She hesitated and looked to her father. The stallion scowled at Gulfstream, but finally nodded. “Go on. At the least it’ll get ya out of my mane for a little while.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” She flew for the gate, opening it with a flick of her hoof at about the same time the front door slammed closed.

Gulfstream raised an eyebrow at the door as she floated out of the birdcage and closed the gate behind her. “Does he always talk to you like that?”

“He’s… Daddy.” Summer sighed and turned to him. “So what’s going on? I never thought you’d come to my house on your own.”

He sat down and rubbed his forehooves together, watching as they rubbed back and forth. “Are you… doing anything during the tournament?”

She head tilted to one side with a pouting frown. “Not really. Dad’s got work those days.”

“Then… would you…” He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a small envelope. Opening it, he revealed to her two tickets.

Her green eyes lit up like the sun. “Are those what I think they are?”

He nodded, offering one of the tickets to her. She took it gingerly. “Gulfstream, this is great! How’d you get two tickets?”

“My sister gets to invite any number of ponies to watch. Her parents are getting tickets, and Derpy too. I asked her to get me an extra one.”

Summer’s wings burst open and she gave a squee that even he had to acknowledge as adorable. Bounding forward, she wrapped him in a tight embrace. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is the best gift ever!”

He wanted to smile. He tried to, but his lips wouldn’t obey. When he didn’t return her hug, Summer slowly backed away. She gazed into his eyes, all happiness faded. “What’s wrong?”

Gulfstream returned to rubbing his hooves together. “Do you believe in… curses?”

“Well, sure. I heard there’s a whole wing in the Royal Spell Library on them.” She leaned forward, worry in her voice. “You don’t think you’ve been cursed, do you?”

“Not me,” he whispered. “My cousin, Lightning.”

Summer gasped, a hoof rising to her lips. “You don’t think somepony’s trying to sabotage her for the tournament, do you?”

He cringed. “N-no. I think Celestia gave her an enchanted weapon. To make her more… aggressive. Obsessive. She’s not like she used to be.”

His friend frowned and shook her head. “Celestia? Why would Celestia curse anypony, especially the one she picked for the tournament?”

“I know it sounds dumb, but I touched that knife and…” He recalled the night before and shuddered. “I’m an angry pony, Summer.”

“Gulfie, you’re—”

“I am and you know it.” Gulfstream cringed at the bite in his words, but Summer took them without so much as a flinch. He proceeded with a softer tone. “I’m angry, Summer. I’m always angry. Lightning taught me how to control it, to push it in the back of my mind and redirect it when I couldn’t. But when I touched that knife… I could feel my anger building. It grew so fast, and I didn’t even think to hold it back. If Lightning hadn’t taken the knife from my hooves when she had, I…”

He choked and bowed his head. “I’m sc-cared, Summer. I think that knife’s doing bad things to my cousin’s head.”

Summer was quiet for a time. He appreciated that, it gave him time to regain control of his emotions and push back the fire that threatened to grow within him. He didn’t look up until he had the threat of tears well under control.

She wore a thoughtful expression, studying him as if he were a curious lab specimen. “So… you haven’t said anything to Lightning about it?”

“How could I?” He rubbed his eyes with both hooves. “ ‘Hey, LD, I think the divine goddess of all that is good is turning you into a raging war machine.’ Lightning all but worships Celestia now, she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Hmm…” Summer rubbed her chin. “Are you sure Celestia gave it to her?”

He shrugged. “That’s what she said. Why would she lie?”

Summer offered a shrug of her own. “Maybe it was given to her by somepony claiming it was from Celestia.”

Gulfstream absorbed that idea with a deep frown. “You mean, like, somepony else cursed the knife and gave it to Lightning?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I… don’t know.” He pressed his hooves to his head and groaned. “I don’t know, I don’t know. I wish I did. What difference does it make? Lightning’s being cursed. Who cares who is cursing her, I want it to stop!”

“So why not just take the knife away and—”

“No!” He backed away as if stung, body low and wrought with shivers. “I don’t ever want to touch that thing again! I don’t want to be a bad pony. I-I’m good!”

Summer’s eyebrows rose, her lips slightly parted. Slowly, she came closer and touched his hooves with her own. Her voice became soft and soothing. “This really is scaring you, isn’t it?”

He nodded frantically, once again struggling to hold back his tears. But her hooves on his… He had no idea why, but they made him feel at least a little better. “I don’t know what to do. W-what if Lightning becomes like me? What if she gets hurt? Or… Or…”

She shifted a little closer, her eyes filling his vision. “Is that why you want me to come?”

He sniffed and nodded yet again. “I wanted somepony I… I trust. I have to watch, but I don’t think I can do it on my own. P-please, Summer?”

She smiled. It was not an expression of comfort this time, but of genuine pleasure. “You really trust me?” The smile became a grin at his third nod. He had no idea what she had to grin about. “Of course I’ll come. I have to help my friend. Don’t worry, Gulfstream, I’ll be with you to the very end.”

His ears perked, his heart did a little flip. “You will?”

“Of course I—”

Before even he knew what was happening, he’d jumped forward to tackle her in a tight hug. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

The Cloudiseum. Gulfstream had visited this place often enough, usually to watch Lightning compete in some event or other. It had always been a place of joy, fun and adventure. Today, the structure loomed all around, feeling more like a prison than a site of mass entertainment.

Gulfstream didn’t know whether to be disturbed or not by the seating arrangements. Lightning’s parents, Derpy, Summer and him had been given special seats in one of the viewing boxes… which just so happened to be the same one in which he’d met Nightmare Moon five years ago. That seemed like ancient history to his young mind, and yet he could almost vividly picture the dark alicorn sitting in that same spot. Of course, today there were no guards or royal cloud cushion. His aunt and uncle took up the space that the princess had before.

They were so excited, and why shouldn’t they be? Their daughter was in the tournament, sponsored by Celestia no less! Derpy sat on the window ledge and waved a giant, felt minotaur hand in her hoof, as thrilled as any pony could rightly be. Any odd behavior on Lightning’s part whad been pushed aside by those three as her preparing herself for the tournament. Never mind that Lightning had never obsessed over a contest like this before.

Only one pony offered him any comfort; Summer sat beside him, occasionally brushing a wing against his back or touching his hoof. He was so glad he’d invited her to come. All the teasing and giggles behind his back were worth it, and he made sure she knew that.

In the arena below, a race course had been crafted from the local clouds. Over twenty ponies stood around at the starting line. They were the third group of six that would be racing today. They stretched and chatted amongst themselves as they awaited the start of the race. He easily identified Rainbow Dash by her colorful mane. She looked up at the stands as if in search of somepony, her head whipping about.

Far away from her stood Lightning. She spoke to nopony, devoting herself to her warm ups and not indulging any who tried to chat. She’d been that way ever since last night, and the sight left a pit in Gulfstream’s belly. Why was he the only one to notice how un-Lightning that was?

The announcer’s voice rose over the audience, which had filled the Cloudiseum beyond its capacity. Gulfstream tensed as the ponies below went to their starting positions.

Derpy noticed. “Don’t worry, Gulfstream. All a pony has to do to get to the next stage is make at least tenth, and we all know Lightning’s gonna do better than that.”

He tried to nod, but his head barely moved. His neck was too taut. He stared wide-eyed at the ponies lined up in three rows; Rainbow was in the middle, Lightning in the back near the corner. “Let this go well, let this go well, let this go well…”

“It’s okay,” Summer whispered in his ear. “She did fine on the relay and the flag hunt. She’ll be fine here, too.”

“Physically, maybe.” He focused on Lightning’s face and saw it scrunched up in fierce determination. It wasn’t at all like her usual, smirking ‘game face.’

The referee blew a whistle, and the athletes were off! But this wasn’t a flying race; Wonderbolts had to be as capable on the ground as they were in the air, so for this race they went hooves only. Gulfstream watched with quiet anticipation as Lightning and her rivals fell into places and started around the first curve. Not all of them were doing well, and already a good quarter of the ponies were falling behind. Many hadn’t anticipating racing by hoof.

Rainbow was aggressive. She passed ponies without warning, sometimes when there were already three or four side by side. Gulfstream knew that was dangerous; it left little room to maneuver, and forced her to the outside where she had to work harder to close the distance.

Lightning, on the other hoof, hardly ever passed, keeping a steady pace for the entire first four laps. By the fifth, she began to steadily move forward, picking her way up the herd one pegasus at a time. Rainbow, who had originally settled near the back, was closing on her quickly.

Gulfstream barely breathed as he watched the action. He could feel his pulse in his ears and kept one hooftip between his teeth. He barely noticed Summer’s wingtip brushing up and down his back. Five more laps…

Rainbow passed Lightning on the sixth lap. She made no attempt to catch her, but had Lightning glared at her ex? They were on the opposite side of the Cloudiseum when it happened, so Gulfstream wasn’t certain.

On the seventh lap the race really started, or so it seemed to him. As soon as the first pony passed the finish line, everypony on the field kicked into high gear and went from galloping to galloping. The crowd broke into cheers as the tempo of the whole race changed. Ponies started to pass Lightning, despite her added burst of speed. Gulfstream felt a confusing welling of both hope and fear; hope that she might be put out of the tournament early, and fear for how she might take it.

Then, on the eighth lap, the race changed again, but this time in a way Gulfstream never anticipated: Lightning, while caught in the middle of a four-wide formation of ponies, jerked sideways and slammed into the golden pegasus on her right. The pony promptly careened into the one next to him, and the two fell in a jumble of hooves and mane. The ponies immediately behind them didn’t stand a chance, tumbling and tripping and trampling over one another.

Gulfstream gaped at the scene as the racers in the back reacted. The fast-thinking among them managed to run around the incident, but were slowed dramatically as a result. Those not so clever instinctively used their wings to avoid a collision, but in so doing were immediately disqualified. In a single chaotic moment, more than a third of the pegasi were out of the race or too far behind to ever catch up, and that didn’t include the poor ponies who had been involved in the incident.

Cries of outrage filled the crowds. Gulfstream turned his attention to the nearest referee. She made no attempt to stop the race.

“Thank Celestia,” Uncle Meter said breathlessly. “I thought Lightning had been caught in that.”

Gulfstream stared at the stallion. Had he missed Lightning’s actions? Then again, she’d been far away; what if he’d misinterpreted? Surely his cousin hadn’t… cheated. She wouldn’t, not even now.

Would she?

She galloped by their window, flying past slower ponies who had already exhausted themselves. The look of determination and focus on her face hadn’t receded. That icy feeling returned to Gulfstream’s chest as the scabbard, still attached to her leg, glinted in the sunlight.

Lap nine. The racers in the lead swung wide to avoid the scene of the ‘accident.’ A few ponies managed to untangle from the pile and resume the race, but by now they had no chance of continuing in the tournament. A team of medical ponies were on the low side of the track, assessing the damage.

When Gulfstream looked back to the race itself, he found Lightning catching up to Rainbow. The latter had clearly used up all her energy and had begun to lag, but by now she’d made her way to third place. Lightning swept by her easily, and the frustration on Rainbow’s face was clear even from a distance. By the beginning of the final lap, Lightning held the lead.

Aunt Flit and Uncle Meter were cheering like crazy. Derpy was doing a silly dance.

Gulfstream kept quiet, his legs shaking as he prepared to wait for the next event.

Author's Notes:

I hate that I had to handle this one in a stream of short pieces, but I feel like Gulfstream's story is at risk of going for too long otherwise. I needed to make a decision, and this is the result – for better or for worse.

This isn't where I intended to stop the chapter, but I think I can squeeze all the things I wanted into the next chapter. If not, I may have to add another Gulfstream chapter, but we'll see.