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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
If You Can’t Win, Cheat
I’d smashed the clock.
It had made the wait easier to bear. There’s nothing quite like a hospital for stretching time out to infinity and Ponyville’s was no different. The pregnant moment stretched to infinity and I prayed news would come soon; and never at all.
“Don’t worry Scoots.” Apple Bloom squeezed my hoof. “You’ll fly. I know it.”
Ninety-nine percent of pegasi could fly by their fourteenth birthday. Of that orphaned one percent, though, half never flew at all. I’d celebrated my fourteenth a month ago. Despite everything Rainbow Dash had promised, I’d never flown more than a yard.
“Yeah, Twilight will fix things. She always does,” Sweetie Belle said, her voice cracking.
I didn’t say anything.
After an eyeblink eternity, the double doors opened to reveal Twilight and Rainbow Dash. Rainbow had her head hung, not meeting anypony’s eye and Twilight’s wings dragged along the ground.
“Its bad news, isn’t it?”
“Squirt...” Rainbow petered out.
“Just tell me.”
Twilight stepped forwards. “Scootaloo. I’ve personally reviewed your scan results, twice, and it’s certain. You’ll never fly.”
I didn’t react. I couldn’t. There had to be a catch. A ‘but’.
None came, Twilight kept talking.
“It’s a very rare condition called Dandelion's Disorder. It’s a heart-line defect that can occur when a pegasus is born to earth pony parents.” A chalk board materialised next to her with a pop, a generic pony already sketched out. “The main mana conduit follows in pegasi to the wings, and in earth ponies to the hooves. Your body has these the wrong way around.” She drew a line to the hooves. I’ll never forget the way the chalk squealed.
My vision was blurring as tears pooled in the corners of my eyes. “What does that mean?” My voice was a monotone croak.
Twilight sighed. “You’ll never fly. There’s not enough magic reaching your wings to do anything more than hover. I’m sorry.”
“So she’ll practice more,” Apple Bloom cut in, leaping in front of me.
“It won't work,” Rainbow Dash shot back, with a bitter snarl. “It’s not muscle, it’s magic.”
“Well what about a spell?” Sweetie exclaimed, clapping her hooves together. “Or a potion. Something!”
“Trying to alter a heart-line defect can kill a pony,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “Scootaloo, I’m sorry, but there’s no fixing this.”
I said nothing. I don’t think I even reacted, I just stared at my hooves.
“Scootaloo...” I started, as Sweetie Belle put a hoof on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we can–”
“Don’t worry?” I roared, rounding on Sweetie, who quailed backwards. “Don’t worry! Didn’t you hear her you thick waste of oxygen? I’m never going to fly.”
I was breathing hard, tearing staining the fur around my eyes. Sweetie Belle was crying too, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just ran.
And ran.
I don’t remember when I stopped running. Nor when I’d started sobbing in earnest.
Apple Bloom found me curled up into a ball in our old tree house.
“You know, I can’t fly,” she pointed out, laying down next to me.
I glared at her. “You’re not a pegasus.”
“So? You don’t have to fly to be a good pony. We’ll always be here for you, Scoots.”
I didn’t reply, instead I rolled over. Glaring a hole in the far wall.
“It was my dream,” I said, at last. “I always wanted to fly, just like Rainbow Dash.”
“You know, Granny said to me that, ‘you can’t win every time. But if you have to win, cheat.’”
I rolled back over. “That doesn’t sound like a very Apple thing to say.”
Apple Bloom smiled. “Founding Ponyville was cheating. Growing Zap Apples is cheating. If you really want to fly– if you need to fly, find a way.”
I strained to read just another page as the light faded away. A dozen books on flight and magic surrounded me, along with the detritus of a week's research. A pencil sketch of a pegasus lay before me, the mana-lines highlighted in bright silver. It was futile in the end. There was no clever way of arranging those lines that would get me into the sky, at least not without...
“Huh,” I said, tapping a pencil against the page. “You know, nothing says I have be the pathway.”
I traced two new lines, leading from the heart, out around the wings, and of behind the flanks. A smile crept across my face.
“Yeah. That could work.”
It had made the wait easier to bear. There’s nothing quite like a hospital for stretching time out to infinity and Ponyville’s was no different. The pregnant moment stretched to infinity and I prayed news would come soon; and never at all.
“Don’t worry Scoots.” Apple Bloom squeezed my hoof. “You’ll fly. I know it.”
Ninety-nine percent of pegasi could fly by their fourteenth birthday. Of that orphaned one percent, though, half never flew at all. I’d celebrated my fourteenth a month ago. Despite everything Rainbow Dash had promised, I’d never flown more than a yard.
“Yeah, Twilight will fix things. She always does,” Sweetie Belle said, her voice cracking.
I didn’t say anything.
After an eyeblink eternity, the double doors opened to reveal Twilight and Rainbow Dash. Rainbow had her head hung, not meeting anypony’s eye and Twilight’s wings dragged along the ground.
“Its bad news, isn’t it?”
“Squirt...” Rainbow petered out.
“Just tell me.”
Twilight stepped forwards. “Scootaloo. I’ve personally reviewed your scan results, twice, and it’s certain. You’ll never fly.”
I didn’t react. I couldn’t. There had to be a catch. A ‘but’.
None came, Twilight kept talking.
“It’s a very rare condition called Dandelion's Disorder. It’s a heart-line defect that can occur when a pegasus is born to earth pony parents.” A chalk board materialised next to her with a pop, a generic pony already sketched out. “The main mana conduit follows in pegasi to the wings, and in earth ponies to the hooves. Your body has these the wrong way around.” She drew a line to the hooves. I’ll never forget the way the chalk squealed.
My vision was blurring as tears pooled in the corners of my eyes. “What does that mean?” My voice was a monotone croak.
Twilight sighed. “You’ll never fly. There’s not enough magic reaching your wings to do anything more than hover. I’m sorry.”
“So she’ll practice more,” Apple Bloom cut in, leaping in front of me.
“It won't work,” Rainbow Dash shot back, with a bitter snarl. “It’s not muscle, it’s magic.”
“Well what about a spell?” Sweetie exclaimed, clapping her hooves together. “Or a potion. Something!”
“Trying to alter a heart-line defect can kill a pony,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “Scootaloo, I’m sorry, but there’s no fixing this.”
I said nothing. I don’t think I even reacted, I just stared at my hooves.
“Scootaloo...” I started, as Sweetie Belle put a hoof on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we can–”
“Don’t worry?” I roared, rounding on Sweetie, who quailed backwards. “Don’t worry! Didn’t you hear her you thick waste of oxygen? I’m never going to fly.”
I was breathing hard, tearing staining the fur around my eyes. Sweetie Belle was crying too, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just ran.
And ran.
I don’t remember when I stopped running. Nor when I’d started sobbing in earnest.
Apple Bloom found me curled up into a ball in our old tree house.
“You know, I can’t fly,” she pointed out, laying down next to me.
I glared at her. “You’re not a pegasus.”
“So? You don’t have to fly to be a good pony. We’ll always be here for you, Scoots.”
I didn’t reply, instead I rolled over. Glaring a hole in the far wall.
“It was my dream,” I said, at last. “I always wanted to fly, just like Rainbow Dash.”
“You know, Granny said to me that, ‘you can’t win every time. But if you have to win, cheat.’”
I rolled back over. “That doesn’t sound like a very Apple thing to say.”
Apple Bloom smiled. “Founding Ponyville was cheating. Growing Zap Apples is cheating. If you really want to fly– if you need to fly, find a way.”
I strained to read just another page as the light faded away. A dozen books on flight and magic surrounded me, along with the detritus of a week's research. A pencil sketch of a pegasus lay before me, the mana-lines highlighted in bright silver. It was futile in the end. There was no clever way of arranging those lines that would get me into the sky, at least not without...
“Huh,” I said, tapping a pencil against the page. “You know, nothing says I have be the pathway.”
I traced two new lines, leading from the heart, out around the wings, and of behind the flanks. A smile crept across my face.
“Yeah. That could work.”