M.

It hadn’t been an easy life, but it was life. Both father and daughter made it safely back to town that night. Most of the other ponies knew faintly, at least, who Blaze was, so when the word got around that his wife had passed their hearts went out to the broken family. Early that next morning there was no shortage of volunteers to help Spitfyre and Blaze.The group started at sunrise hacking the fallen tree to pieces. Once they could fully recover the body there was a simple funeral held. They buried her in the spot she had fallen, and the grave was marked pieces of the downed tree Everypony who had helped that day was in attendance, plus a few more who had heard about it by word of mouth. Even the Wonderbolts did a fly-over to help ease the pain of a friend with a heavy heart and a troubled mind. Into the grave marker were carved only a few simple words.
Crystal, Loving wife and caring mother,
A dark and depressive mood hung about the on-lookers like a fog. It wasn’t long before crystal clear teardrops began to form on the faces of a few ponys. Words were shared, speeches were given, hugs exchanged and by the end of the ordeal there wasn't a single pony in the entire crowd that wasn’t burdened by the crystalline drops, except one.

Young Spitfyre stood, with icy resolve, among the onlookers. Not a single tear ever touched her face. The urge was there. She wanted nothing more than to breakdown into a sobbing heap lamenting her life and what had happened to her, but that wouldn’t save her mother, that wouldn’t make her father fly again. There was nothing she could do or say or think that could possibly return her life to normal. So instead she choose silence. Silence was her armor, she used it to shield herself from all the emotional pain that she felt, and when it came time to face the world Determination was her sword. The determination to live the determination to be the best that she could be, the determination to make herself worth all the pain she had caused. With Silence and Determination she fought all her battles. The battle to wake up every morning, the battle to train herself, the battle to become a better, stronger pony.

The day after the funeral Spitfyre set right to work. She might not have known how to fly, but she was determined to learn as fast as she could. Day in and day out she would go to the same field where her mother’s grave was, and everyday she would practice and exercise, completely set on not just learning how to fly, but on how to be the best. At the end of each day she would come home, covered in dirt, grime, cuts and bruises, to her father the only pony she truly confided in. Blaze was always there for her to offer her support when she required it, advice when she asked for it, and, of course, love when she needed it. The bright red stallion had gotten his life back and for that he was grateful, however coming back had cost him dearly. His family was broken and he knew it. He knew could never replace Crystal, and he didn’t have the urge to even try. Every night he was haunted by the disfigured form of his once beautiful wife. Visions of Her corpse would follow him no matter where he tried to flee. She would scream the same words at him over and over night after night. It was his fault.....he made her die. Blaze hadn’t slept soundly ever since the funeral. As bad as the emotional cost was, the physical cost was just as high. Before Blaze had at least been able to move his wings and use them as normal, however with a potentially deadly cost, now they hung snapped ridged against his side forever. No amount of will could get them to move again. The once great Wonderbolt was truly crippled forever. He also suffered from viscous onslaughts of excruciating pain. They happened when he least expected it, and when they did occur the worn stallion was forced into a pitiful unmoving state where just blinking his eyes felt like he was burning from the inside out. It hurt him for Spitfyre to see him in such a terrible condition, it hurt him more than she would ever know, it hurt more than all the pain he felt. Blaze was supposed to be her great protector, her wise teacher, and all that other nonsense. Just how well could he truly guide her when some days it took his entire being just to get out of bed. Sure he could offer advice, but he couldn't teach her how to fly. It was every pegasus's greatest pride to teach their foal how to take to the air, and he would never be able too. However every-time he was in great pain from one of his mysterious episodes, or he was so terribly depressed because he would never see Crystal again, or even when he just felt worthless Blaze would always remember that scared little yellow Filly he saw that horrible night, and how tightly that same filly held him later. The pain would start to lessen, the sadness would melt away, and the great stallion would remember his purpose. He had to love her and show her how to love. That was his job. Losing her mother may have empowered Spitfyre to be the best that she could be, but it had also hardened her heart. Blaze knew that somewhere buried deep within his daughter was the sweet loving soul of her mother, the way she had been before her world had been turned on its head and he would try his damnedest to get it back.

So it went day after day. Soon the days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and months to years, one year to be exact. Everyday Spitfyre grew stronger and everyday Blaze was there to support her in her endeavors. Pretty soon however Blaze began to realize Spitfyre needed more than just practice by herself to become the best, and as much as it pained him, he couldn't be the beside her to give the lessons she needed, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to help. Finally on one of Blaze's better days, when his mind was not so clouded by pain, he had an idea. While Spitfyre was out he got out a quill and some parchment and quickly addressed a letter, the letter read:

Dear Brimstone,
How ya been you old bastard, you? look i’ll make this short for ya cause I know those old eyes of yours are having trouble reading now-a-days. Remember that favor you said you owed me a while back when we were still flying for the ‘Bolts? Well im calling that in. I need you to come teach my daughter, and teach her right. You’re the best flyer the Bolts ever had (well besides myself of course), and i wouldn’t want any other second rate hack, that doesn’t know a flying buck about anything trying to teach her. Don’t make me wait.

Your Friend,
Blaze

P.S Enclosed is enough bits to put her through flight-school up at Clousdale, I've been meaning to do it myself, but they need a Guardian there and well....since i can't exactly fly up there anymore i want you to sign her up, so congrats you're an Uncle now.

Blaze satisfied he had done all he could have quickly went outside and dropped the letter in the mailbox just as the Mail Mare was coming around. Although his part in Spitfyre's education may have ended, for the young filly everything was just beginning. It was time to wait and see what she would do. it was time to put things in motion, it was time for Spitfyre to grow-up