My name is Eye of the Storm. I have a rainbow mane that flows in the wind like a angelic dream. They flow like unstoppable peaks of winter glory to the tips of the highest mountain. No pony could ever look at my magnificence and will probably get laid, over and over again.

For I am! The Chosen One!

A loud burp belched out from a drunken light-blue stallion that sat his tired head on the front table to the bar he was at. He felt incredibly hazy and was trying to fly up the large mountain he was imagining, but drunkenly fell to the ground. Every pony in the establishment watched the clumsy Pegasus try to pick himself up onto his lounge chair. In the end, he slipped from him covered in the liquor he dropped and slumped onto the ground.

“Okay, buddy, I think you’ve had enough for today.” the barmare would say as she wiped the liquid from the mahogany bar table. “Hey, aren’t you that Wonderbolt that was flying around this morning? You were pretty majestic, well, at least then.”

“The names Soarin! “Hic” and I’ve got more majesticness in one centimeter of my own being.”

Soarin picked up the fallen pitcher of alcohol and attempted to drink it’s contents within without realizing there was none in the first place. He set the empty pitcher down on the table in a vain effort for it to be refilled.

“No way, meet Gertha and Bertha, they’ll be escorting you out from here.”

From the shadows of the bar, came two large female minotaurs that looked seemingly angry and were quite strong looking. Soarin watched them as they grabbed him by each shoulder and picked him up together.

“But, I’m the chosen one…”

The two minotaur women, then threw Soarin out of the bar through the double doors. He landed in a trash heap, trash cans and trash scattered by the force that he was thrown.

“Augh! There he is!”

From the sky, Spitfire came upon him and saw what he had become. It was shameful to look at, and he had his Wonderbolt’s Uniform dirtied and ripped.

“Celestia darn it! Soarin, this is the fifteenth time you’ve drunken yourself down to this level, and now you’ve ruined your actual suit!”


Soarin’s sight shook violently, his haze making him feel like closing his eyes.
He laid in the trash heap in a complete and utter mess.

Spitfire dropped down to the ground. He picked up the out-cold slump of a pony and flew up.

“You oh me big for this.” she whispered.

She flew up the distance before vanishing out of sight.

---

Soarin opened his eyes, he found that he was in his apartment room and scratched his head from the migraine he was having. Having looked at the clock, it was readily apparent that he was late for work, again. He went into his closet and found his suit, still torn from the side from the night before.

“Shit.”

He started running out of his room, and exited the apartment from his living room door. From the seventh floor of the apartment complex he lived in, he jumped over the metal bars and flew his way over the city of Manehatten. Today was going to be a practice day, instead of the oh so stressful performances they usually do and he hoped he could get away from any trouble. Seeing the complex to where the concrete hulk of the Wonderbolts Manehatten Branch was, he flew down with ease.

Running past the glass doors, and into the training lobby. He found his fellow Wonderbolts with unwelcome faces, darting their eyes at the incompetent fool before them. From the bunch that were stretching, lifting and flying through the obstacle like courses in the lobby came Spitfire. Just like the rest, she wasn’t in a good mood.

“What in Tartarus is wrong with you, Soarin!?”

He looked at her nervously before taking a step back. No words came out from his lips.

“Why are you drinking yourself to death for? I even had to drag you to your own home because of your crazy behaviour!”

Soarin sat down on the ground and watched the painted sign of the Wonderbolts in despair, he just couldn’t handle his own shame anymore. He rubbed against the plastic skin that he sat on and nearly cried.

“It’s just… I feel so unfulfilled Spitfire, I’ve done this job for so long and feel like I’ve gotten nothing.”

Spitfire leaned down to the sunken Soarin and perked his head up with her hoof.

“Come on Soarin, you can tell us what's ailing you! We are your colleagues and friends after all!”

Soarin wiped his eyes and smiled.

“Alright, but you promise not to laugh, okay?”

She nodded happily.

Soarin cleared his throat and spoke.

“I’ve always had a dream to climb Mount HaphazardKadazard, the longest mountain of all Equestria! It’s just, lately I’ve been feeling inadequate because I’d never be able to get it done in my lifetime or even survive the whole thing!”

She looked upon the questionable creature that was Soarin, and chuckled.

“Sometimes Soarin, you surprise me.” She looked around before returning to him. “Hey, Fleetfoot and Speedy! Why don’t you take over for me and Soarin’s next performance.”

“Sure!”

“Yea, why not.”

“Perfect, you and me are going on a trip, and I won’t let you go alone. Last I did that you were in a trash heap.”

Soarin bounced up in elation, he couldn’t believe his ears at what was happening.

“Oh thank you Spitfire! You won’t regret this!” he said with a tight hug.

“Uh, ok, you can stop now.”

Soarin released the poor, suffocating Spitfire, he just wouldn’t contain his excitement though.

“I’ll get everything set up, all the resources and food were gonna need. This is gonna be the best trip!”



The winter cold from the surrounding area was uncomfortable to the touch. Even wearing many layers of coats to fight off the bitter cold, it still could somehow itch its way through it all. Soarin and Spitfire wore small backpacks on their side on top of the many clothes, they walked up to the mountain that they’ve been walking towards for thirty minutes and saw its tallness echo towards the sky.

“Well, you wanted to scale this thing. You’ve got it Soarin.”

With determination, Soarin took out his climbing knife from the back-pack on his side and began cutting into the dense rock. Spitfire followed suite as they continued climbing upward while with her own knife.

For several hours the two agonizingly trunched up the mountain, not taking breaks to save time. And making sure to park their rears in a nice crevice to make camp, they found that it was outside the freezing cold. By that time, it was already extremely late and they were exhausted.

The smoky and warm fire lit up the dark little cave like crevice they were in. Soarin shivered in his tent, even away from outside it was still bad, but not as terrible as actually climbing out there. He tried his best to sleep it off, but it felt like he couldn’t stay put properly. Too much shivering can do that to a pony and Soarin just couldn’t get himself situated in comfort.

He climbed out of his tent and sat himself near the fireplace, which had died down a bit since it first was lit up with a matchstick.

“Something wrong?” said Spitfire as she climbed out of her own tent to sit near.

Soarin shivered a bit more, but now had a better control over himself with the fire warming him.

“Its nothing Spitfire, I just feel like we’ve might have bit more than we can chew.”

She huddled up to the fire herself and rested near its warm reaches.

“Come on Soarin, were half-way there, we just need one more day to get things done.”

Soarin looked with an eye of determination towards the fire. How could he allow this cold to defeat him so easily. Not with his dream so close to intact. He would not give up at any cost.

“You're right, I’ve been so easily to give up just now, I’ve lost sight of what we’ve come here for…”

“For Greatness!” he said while standing up with a vigorous shout.

Spitfire giggled at his valiant power struggle. It was too funny to just watch.

“Hey, you know, this isn’t just some random dream I made up on the fly, I had this coming for years now. I promised my great granny Gum-Gum that one day, I would climb that mountain for her.”

“Did she actually agree to this?”

Soaring sat back down, he realized the cold above head level was too much to be “Valiant” any longer.

“Well, she died soon after I said that when I was younger. Yea, not so funny now.”

Spitfire leaned on her back to sleep.

“We should get some sleep Soarin, we have a long day ahead.”

He smiled before laying down near the warmth of the fire and closed his eyes.

The next morning, the two awoke, prepared themselves and continued climbing up the mountain with new determination in both of their eyes. Each slam of their knifes and the force of their bodies upon the hard rocky mountain and cold as tartarus snow didn’t stop them from achieving their goals. When they nearly reached the top, something seemed… odd.

“I’M THE KING OF THE-”

Interrupting the proud stallion after his exhaustive effort. Spitfire closed his mouth and brought him down to a lower position as to not be seen.

“Hey! What was that for!?”

She motioned to the direction to what she saw, and Soarin gasped.

There were Windigos everywhere, Flying all over the place and spreading cold all over the top of the mountain.

“Now do you see!? It’s a Windigo nesting ground here!”

Soaring shook in anger, how could these… foalish, Windigo creatures get in the way… of the Chosen One! They would not stand a chance to his might.

“Now, Soarin, we need to back down… Soarin!? Where did you go!?”

Then, she saw him running towards the heavy nest of cold spirits.

“NO, You Fool!”

Spitfire looked away and watched his friend run for his life into the face of danger. She closed her eyes, and couldn’t watch.

“Clop” “Clop” “Clop”

“Whah?” said Spitfire.

It was Soarin, his gloriousness encapsulated in this very moment. Every fiber of his soul was consumed by pure amazement. No pony could ever unsee what they saw at this moment. Spitfire was guffawed by such a display of power and stalionness.

He was valiantly on top of a Windigo, riding it like a glorious mount that would strike fear into the hearts of ponies. His true destiny was attained.

“I finally see what I truly am, Spitfire! I am… a Windigo Tamer!”

Gloriousness echoed from every side. Holy light rained down from the heavens and power was all in his grasp.

“Come with me Spitfire, we must go and fly.” he said with strength in his voice.

She couldn’t believe her eyes, she went up to the Windigo he was sitting on. Climbed up the windy, yet hard hide and they rode off onto the sunset.

---

Fleetfoot and Speedy were just about to begin their performance. They had been long practicing this moment to finally showcase what they were made of. Until, they were suddenly beseeched by Windigos. How they were going to make a huge stage for themselves from that show. But, is that Soarin and Spitfire a top a Windigo!?

The two flew down to the performance grounds, where Spitfire lept off.

“Spitfire, I will leave you now, for I must go and be one with the Windigo. I will return soon.”

Spitfire looked upon this and smiled.

“Well, you finally became your chosen one huh? I’m happy for you Soarin, good luck out there with the Windigos.”

“Thank you, Spitfire.”

With those words, he rode off, leaving Spitfire to await his return.