Silverwings Ch. 4

The stallion walked in with Velvet, closing his dark green wings. They folded neatly over his matching coat. The stallion stopped dead, his eyes landing on Grey. Closing her eyes briefly, she wished fervently she to be anywhere but there.

            Unfortunately, she opened her eyes again, and the gaping stallion was still there. “Honey, who is this?” he asked, turning to Velvet.

            “He’s Splash’s new friend,” she explained. “Grey Sky.” Grey got up from the table quickly.

            “Hello,” she said, extending her hoof for the stallion to shake it. He shook it firmly, looking into her eyes searchingly.

            “Mr. Stitch,” he said, introducing himself. Grey nodded, and Mr. Stitch sat at the table. Velvet motioned Grey over, and she took her seat again and sat down next to Chestnut.

            “I have cloud cakes coming up for lunch!” Velvet called, going again to the kitchen to retrieve the food.

            “So, Miss Sky. Aren’t you the author everyone’s talking about?”

            “Yes?” she said rather uncomfortably.

            Mr. Stitch nodded. Grey looked around the room, feeling strange. The whole time she’d been living in Cloudsdale, she’d always felt like she didn’t fit in. The table was consumed with awkward silence, until Velvet arrived with lunch.

 

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            “That was excellent, thank you,” Grey said. Velvet beamed taking away their plate.

            “Oh, thank you,” the mare replied.

            “Well, I really have to go,” Grey said, aching to get back to her writing. She had to send a book proposal in for the sequel to Goldenwings, and her editor was getting impatient.

            “Oh,” Feather Splash said, looking crestfallen.

            “We can meet up in fifteen minutes,” Chestnut said, saving the day. Grey smiled gratefully at him and left the house, thanking everyone for the meal.

            Once outside, she mulled over her visit. As she often did when troubled or confused, she narrated in her head.

            Grey Sky stepped on the cloudy sidewalk, every step casting a shadow on the flawless surface. To the outside appearing calm, she held the weight of the world on her shoulders.

            Grey shook her head. For the first time in her life, she’d felt a little crazy referring to herself in third person. Her wings hung uselessly at her sides. She remembered wistfully how the two fillies had zoomed around their house.

            Maybe a miracle had happened? Maybe she’d be able to finally fly? She spread her wings, the tips of her feathers permanently bent from holding quills. She flapped once, and rose a little.

            Feeling elated, she flapped more powerfully. She only had an inch to go for her front legs to lift up—

            Grey tumbled onto the ground in an ungraceful heap. She heard laughter from above, and scrambled to her hooves again. The sunny blond mane of Summer Sky appeared to Grey.

            Frowning, Grey pushed her glasses up her muzzle.

            “Who’s—“ Feather Splash started, but her brother shushed her. Neither of the Sky sisters had heard them approach. They were both practically sizzling with electricity.

            “Hello, Summer,” Grey said stiffly. “How’s life?”

            “Good. Still no job?”

            “I write,” said Grey. “I’ve gotten a letter from Princess Celestia.”

            “Oh, she’s never mentioned you,” Summer said, carelessly tossing her pale blond mane back. The pony was dazzling: blond mane, yellow coat, and a golden sun-shaped cutie mark.

            Grey called her Canary when they were younger to annoy her.

            Summer would usually retaliate by calling her little sister “Four-Eyes.”

            A thump indicated the graceful landing of the third Sky sibling, just in time for Grey to turn away so Summer wouldn’t see her eyes fill with tears of anger.

            Grey ran to hug Cloudy. The stallion towered above her. He had the same gray tones in his mane and coat. Cloudy was barely darker than his favorite sister.

            “Summer,” Cloudy said, sighing. As the older brother, he’d always had to separate the fights between the girls.

            The three of them suddenly noticed Feather Splash, Lacewings, and Chestnut Feather standing awkwardly near the three Sky siblings.

            Being painfully reminded of how dysfunctional her own family was, Grey felt a stab of pain seeing the family: the shy little sister protected by her big sister, and the big brother never having to separate fights, topped off with two loving parents who loved the three of them equally.

            “Who are they?” Summer asking, wrinkling her muzzle.

            “My friends,” Grey said simply.

            “She has friends?” Summer mouthed to Cloudy.

            Cloudy glared at the now snickering Summer.

            “Well, we’ve got to go,” Cloudy said. “See you at the family dinner?”

            “Family dinner? What?” Grey asked panicked.

            “Tonight. Fillydelphia.”

            “I-I forgot. I’ll be there,” she said ignoring her sister.

            “Don’t bother flying there,” Summer said. Grey pretended not to hear. With one last hug to Cloudy, Grey watche them both fly away. She tucked her defective wings in even tighter.

            “Have fun writing your fairytales!” Summer called from above.

            Grey took a deep breath and turned to the three Pegasi standing next to her. “Urgh!” she shouted. “I don’t write fairytales!”

            “Nice family, Silverwings.”

            “According to Miss Canary, my nickname should officially be Four-Eyes,” said Grey.

            “You can’t just go!” Feather Splash said.

            “What?” asked Grey.

            “You need a makeover. To impress your family,” said Splash. Lace nodded.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Super sure. Come on!”

 

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            “I think that may be too short.

    “That’s enough.

    “Okay, stop, while I still have some of my mane left!” Grey shrieked.

            Splash sighed and put down the scissors.

            “Now we need to change your glasses,” she announced.

            “Why?” Grey asked, looking down at her blue, wire-rimmed frames.

            “Here, try these,” Lace said, handing her another pair. They were big, black, and thick.

            “You sure?” Grey said doubtfully.

            “Positive,” said Lace. She handed Grey a mirror.

            The mare could not suppress a gasp. Where before she had had quite a long mane, it had been cut to half its length.

            “It looks great,” Splash insisted.

            She marched Grey out of the bathroom in her house. Chestnut was waiting outside.

            “That’s… different,” he said.

            “Is my cutie mark still there?” Grey asked.

            “Yeah, why?”

            “Good, it’s still me.”

            “Don’t be so dramatic,” said Splash. “Anyway, it’s almost time for the dinner. How are you getting to Fillydelphia?”

            A grin appeared on Grey’s face.

            “Oh, just an old friend of mine.” Grey checked a clock on the sparkling marble wall.

            She galloped outside, the other three following her. An audible pop later, a mare had appeared.

            She had a spiky, tousled mane streaked with neon green and black, and icy blue eyes to match her coat. Her cutie mark was a bit of circuitry. Her horn was crackling with electricity.

            “Cool spell, huh?” Pixel Byte asked. “I can walk on here.”

            “Pixel!” Grey ran to hug her old friend.

            Pixel seemed to notice the three other ponies, staring openmouthed.

            “I gotta go check on your computer, de-bug it,” Pixel said. “Check on the core…”

            “De-bug?” Lacewings repeated.

            With one salute, Pixel was off, transporting Grey with her.

            “Wow.”