Today was the day.

Rainbow Dash had been up early, even moreso than usual. She was all nerves and excitement: belly fluttering, wings buzzing, practically sparkling with energy. The day had finally come; every dream she had, every thought over the past month had been about this day, and now here it was. She was bouncing on her bed; a tiny filly of blue no more than five years old, with a messy rainbow mane wild enough to prey on combs.

Her bed's cover was a deep blue decorated with the winged thunderbolt flashes and yellow stripes of her newest and strongest obsession. Toys were scattered around the floor, walls hewn of living cloud stuck with posters and pennants, all radiating the sheer awesome that was the Wonderbolts. Every bounce and spin on the bed presented Rainbow Dash with a new view of the famed pegasi, filling her heart with pride and joy and desire. To be as swift as Star Chaser, as strong as Typhoon, quicker than Cyclonus, graceful as Storm Dancer… it made her heart beat snare-drum fast just to think about it.

It had been her birthday not a month ago; a small festival of foal-sized mayhem on the clouds organized in her honour. Some dozen fillies and colts all her age had been in attendance to play, though only two of them were able to fly, or at least lift off and drift for a few steps. Not being among them had driven a wedge of shame and jealousy deep into Rainbow Dash's heart. Every day since then, Dash had been outside whenever she could, building little platforms and pedestals on the cloud, and flinging herself from them with her tiny wings buzzing with all her might.

At first she hadn't gotten very far at all, ending up more or less at the bottom of the platforms in a heap, wings fluttering uselessly. There was stubborn streak in the filly though: she was never one to just pout and sulk; Dash would pick herself up every time, shake out her wings and wild mane, then march right back up onto the pedestal and fling herself from it again.

It was a frustrating practice that more often than not left her feeling angry, but as the days passed, she was falling further and further from her starting points and getting closer and closer to her goal. Her parents watched her, offering what advice they could when they felt Rainbow Dash wasn't going to shrug it off in a fit of bruised pride. As difficult as it was to raise a little fireball like Rainbow Dash, there was something about her that made one proud to call her daughter.

Most of the time. Maybe not so much this morning.

Tired of waiting for the sun to rise, she had left her room and stole into her parents'. Dash peered at the two sleeping figures in the late twilight gloom, then, without much ado, hopped up onto their bed and began to bounce. She announced, with her bright and piping voice, that today was indeed the day, and that they should both be up.

The brain is not so efficient at processing information when just roused from sleep, especially not when done in such a rush. Dash's parents peered at her through heavy-lidded eyes, registering her as the source of their morning torment. An excitable blue filly bouncing up and down on their bed at insane o'clock in the morning was a bit more than the mind cared to handle. Happily, while the brain is not so good at working out complex problems, it can be remarkably direct about simple ones. In this case: the desire to go back to sleep.

One big hoof reach out and, neatly, dragged Rainbow Dash down to end up snuggled between both parents. The filly struggled bravely for a moment and complained in her squeaky voice about her predicament, but the warm comfort of her loving parents so close, the familiar softness and scents quelled her in moments. She was asleep again before either of them, a dream of soaring through the sky clad all in blue and yellow curling her lips into a grin.

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Morning came with sunlight streaming through the window, drawing consensus from three ponies instead of one.

The summer sky was clear, dotted here and there with drifting mounds of white, a few guided by colourful figures to seemingly arbitrary places. Rainbow Dash bounced around her parents as they strolled over the cloud that made up the greater part of Cloudsdale's residential section, greeting warmly a few others out and about. Dash herself only had eyes for the sky, though; pegasi of every colour flashed past above them, soaring on speedy wings to their destinations, easy as breathing. She put herself in their place, could imagine the rush and buffet of the wind, the way it rustled the wings and feathers and mane. Her tiny wings buzzed in sympathy, wanting nothing more than to guide her skyward.

They came to the edge of the cloud where beyond lay the world of Equestria stretching to the horizons. Below were the trees and fields, and further on the great mountain range there crowned with the glittering white gem of ponykind; Canterlot. This was the true edge of Cloudsdale, and while Dash had been to this point several times in her life, to be shown the wonder that the pegasus race had all their own, never before had she come with the intent of flinging herself off from the edge into the open sky.

With a gentle caution from her parents, Dash stepped near, craning her neck to peer over the side, downwards off the gently curling wisps to the trees and earth far below. All of the bravery and excitement she had suddenly curdled, the little filly letting out a nervous squeak and backing away from the edge to find herself nestling up tight against her father's strong legs. She was shaking, genuinely frightened; all of a sudden the idea of flying not sounding so wonderful or desirable. How could she have asked for this? Her wings were so tiny, she could barely hover, let alone fly…

A gentle word in her ear, then a mother's soft kiss on her forehead brought Rainbow Dash back. She blinked and peered up to the faces of her parents, mother and father smiling warmly, telling her not to be scared. She didn't believe them at first, kept clinging like a silly little thing to her father, not wanting to go any closer to the dreadful emptiness, but softly murmured words echoed in her ear. They told her of the Wonderbolts, of Typhoon and Star Chaser, and how they had all been scared their first flight. Her father gave her wild, comb-eating rainbow mane a nuzzle and reassured her that he would never let her fall.

There was no rush here, no pushing or goading - the first true flight of a pegasus wasn't something that could be hurried. That first leap into the sky, that first rush of true, free air through mane and across flank - it had to be the foal's own decision. Every pegasus had to find that will, that one needful urge to leap out on their own from the safety of the cloud, to feed that spark that lay in all their hearts: the love of flight.

The gentle words and caresses found their mark, drawing out that hot, brave little centre in Rainbow Dash. She stopped shaking, slowly drew away from her father. Now she stood on her own, staring out at the open sky beyond Cloudsdale with newly jealous eyes tracking the shapes of other pegasi drifting through their air with such ease and grace. Her tiny blue wings rose, a stubborn jut coming to her jaw. It wasn't right at all that everyone else could fly and she was stuck on the clouds. The soft voice of her mother behind asked a question, and Rainbow Dash nodded.

A whisper of wings sounded, a rush of air ruffling Dash's wild mane. Her mother, a mare in cyan coat with a shock of brilliant white and blue mane, was in the sky before her now, drawing a cushion of cloud with her. Magenta eyes, familiar and kind, met their twins in Dash, mother setting the pillow of mist some few lengths beyond the edge and below, a wide target for the filly to reach. It wasn't so far as the pedestals she had been setting for herself in the clouds outside home, but at home she had only soft cloud to fall into, not open air. An edge of fear crept back into Dash's mind, but it just made her frown all the harder, that hot little spark of bravery chasing the fright off with a stamp of her little hooves.

She felt her father's shadow as he leaned over her, his mouth next to her ear. A single word.

"Fly."

Excitement awoke and surged through her body, the little filly all in rainbow kicking once then throwing herself forward into as fast a run as she could. Hoofs slapped soundlessly against the cloud; her wings, feeling not tiny but mighty, buzzed hard, grabbing at the air, lifting her, pushing her forward.

Rainbow Dash leapt from the edge of Cloudsdale into the open sky, naught below her but air and earth, her world shrinking to a point ahead: that of the little patch of safety, of her mother cheering her, beaconing her. Time slowed to a crawl for Dash; she could feel every feather catching at the wind, could feel the slow ripple of the free air tickling across her flanks, stirring her mane. Every detail in her mother's eyes, her wings sharp as crystal. It was a wonder for the little filly, watching each graceful, slow sweep of her mother's cyan wings, every feather rippling and curling in perfect unison, keeping her still in the open sky.

Dash stretched, pushed herself as hard as she could, put every iota of strength she had into her wings, driving herself at the cloud, towards her mother. She wanted to prove that she was just as good as any one, that she was just as good as the hero Wonderbolts.

The cloud drew closer, wider, almost opening up to welcome her… then it was rising, falling up and away from her eyes. Sudden terror filled every nerve, shot through every vein. The filly started to flail against the open sky, tried to find those clouds she always had beneath her, tried to get her wings to drive her upwards to her mother, but none of it came, none of it worked. She was falling.

Her father's voice in her ear, warm and smiling. He coaxed her to open her eyes, told her that he was proud, that he had never seen such a brave filly. He smelled of soap and mists with hints of his work beneath that no number of baths could completely scrub away; oil and metal and sweat. He was a mechanic in the cloud factory, seeing to the great machines there, making them run smoothly.

He was no one special: no renowned flier, no brave hero…

Dash angrily scrubbed the start of a tear from her eyes, then opened them to discover the world all around, so familiar yet so very new. Her father was holding her to his broad chest, flying upside down, grey wings beating slowly. He was smiling down at her, his own rainbow mane, a quirk of the family, whispering gently in the rush of wind around them. Dash peered at him, then around, then down between his shoulders and wings to the ground far below that slid past in silent, jealous wonder at the sight of pegasus far above.

A laugh bubbled up from Dash's belly, a nervous little thing at first that turned into a breathless giggle matched by her father's deep basso chuckle. Now Rainbow Dash was held up by her father, telling her again to fly. She stretched herself out like she had seen every Pegasus do and set her wings to buzzing, a smile wide as can be curling her lips.

They laughed and cheered as they flew, Dash's father doing a slow roll that spun the world around Dash, then drew her in close, his wings pushing hard, lifting them higher into the sky.

"Fly, Dash!"

His hooves fell away and Rainbow Dash arced through the open air; the thrill of speed and motion filling her belly with butterflies, The edge of fear that skulked in the back of her head shoved away and forgotten altogether by the absolute joy of the experience. She flew, a little blue pegasus all in rainbow, arcing through the air to be caught by her mother and lofted up and up further into the azure sky. Together they drifted, finding a tall cloud to slowly around then through, the cool mists decorating mother and daughter in tiny droplets of water that glittered like a frosting of diamond dust.

Dash's mother was a trader, doing much work between the sky and the ground; her talent in words and numbers.

She had no trophies, had no ribbons on her walls or stories of storms flown through. She was just another pony, just like dad...

That was a lie, and Rainbow Dash knew it in her heart. As she soared through the skies, lifted back and forth between her mother and father, drifting through the air by her own wings to be caught again in the strong arms of the two who loved her the most, Dash knew that they were anything but ordinary ponies. They were her parents.

Here and now, in the skies over Equestria, breathless with the exhilaration of flight, flushed with the absolute joy of it, Rainbow Dash promised that she would become the greatest flier in all of Equestria. It wasn't for the names and faces that adorned her wall, the stories she had heard. It wasn't for Typhoon or Star Chaser, for Cyclonus or Storm Dancer - those names didn't mean anything.

In the eyes of the daughter, there were no wings stronger or faster than her father's, no pegasus so swift or graceful as her mother.

She'd be as awesome a flier as them.