Greater love hath none than this:
That one lays down life for one's friends.
—Yeshua
EPILOGUE – THE ELEMENT OF LOYALTY
Rainbow Dash's wing and ribs still hurt. Two weeks had passed since the star-fall, and she had only been back in the air for a couple of days. She was being very careful as she flew, avoiding any sudden changes in speed or direction, and she took advantage of whatever lift she could find as she traveled. A thermal bubble under a puffy little cloud, the rising portion of the waves generated by moving air downwind of a ridge of hills, it was all welcome. There certainly would be no rainbow-trails today.
Nonetheless, she had insisted on pulling Twilight's new chariot. "Therapy", she had called the task, using a word looked up just for the purpose of convincing Twilight to let her do it. Fortunately, this magically-enhanced chariot was much improved from the first attempt. It was light, stable and strong.
As they passed over Ponyville, they could still see signs of the terrible night. Most of the damaged buildings had been repaired, the shard-gouged pits filled in and the glittering dust swept up, but work was still ongoing. In the town square, Mr. Cake hobbled along on a crutch. The good news was that the cast on his foreleg would be coming off in a few days, according to Pinkie Pie. In a similar vein, reports from Canterlot and Manehattan spoke only of modest damage, and life in the cities was more-or-less back to normal. It was a miracle that the night had not been more costly. Though there had been many injuries, it could have been so much worse; the loss of life was light.
Just one pony.
Climbing to the height of Cloudsdale was an effort, and when they finally alighted on the cloud-surface Rainbow Dash was exhausted. Twilight stepped out, buoyed by her "cloudwalker" spell. She nosed at her friend's neck, wordlessly sharing concern. Rainbow Dash waved her away, but a smile showed her appreciation.
"I'll be back later," Twilight said. "I'll be at the Equestria Atmospheric Administration office. They have so much data on the effects of the star-fall!"
"Don't swell your head with too many reports," Rainbow Dash replied. "You're heavy enough without your brains getting bigger!"
Twilight laughed and trotted away, her hooves raising little cloud-puffs like dust.
Rainbow Dash backed out of the chariot-harness, wincing as she folded her wings to do so. For a moment she became entangled in the tack, and let fly a few words that would have made a draft mule blush. Someone stepped up and helped her, lifting the forestrap and padding from Rainbow Dash's head where it had gotten stuck.
"Aren't you the versatile one? Towing chariots, saving towns... can you cook, too?" There was a laugh, and Rainbow Dash turned to the pegasus who had helped her. It was Spitfire, out of uniform, and though the urge to fan-filly briefly arose in Rainbow Dash's chest, it was suppressed by something more profound... a camaraderie from the shared experience.
"Depends. Are you tough enough to survive my cooking? Some can't hack it." Rainbow Dash grinned, then accepted a winghug from Spitfire.
"Thanks very much for coming, Rainbow. There's something I wanted you to see." Spitfire looked closely at Rainbow Dash's wing and the nearly-healed gash. "I wasn't sure you were ready to travel."
"Oh, it's nothing, really," Rainbow Dash replied. "Nurse Redheart says I'll be as good as new in a week or two. Though she'd be mad if she knew I'd flown here today!"
Spitfire laughed, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her. I'm not so sure it'll do you any good, though." She and Rainbow Dash began walking toward a nearby colonnaded building... the headquarters for the Wonderbolts. Rainbow Dash had been there once before, after the Young Flier competition. It seemed to Rainbow Dash to be an eternity ago.
The lobby was as Rainbow Dash remembered it: statues of Wonderbolts on the floor and suspended by wires from the ceiling, a single royal guard whose presence now made sense, a small gift shop where Wonderbolt merchandise was sold (of which Rainbow Dash had a nearly-complete collection), and a door which would only unlock to a hoofpress from one of the team. Spitfire opened the door and they entered a wide corridor beyond.
The hallway lead past the "ready room", in which several of the Wonderbolts were couch-napping, bragging at each other, playing games, and in general loafing about. A couple of them, still in bandages, waved. Spitfire led Rainbow Dash along, and they passed doorways to barracks, locker rooms, a gym, and other more mysterious rooms which the 'victor's tour' several months ago had not included. Rainbow Dash wanted to ask about them, but she could tell Spitfire had a destination in mind. They arrived at the far end of the hall, and through another locked double door more ornate than the others they entered a private garden in an open-air atrium.
The garden was perhaps fifty feet across, and circular. Only the doorway and the open roof allowed access. Stone planters held lush ferns and flowering shrubs, and climbing tendrils of morning-glories clung to the columns supporting the eaves. In the center of the garden was a circular dais of dark marble, inlaid with light alabaster in the royal eight-rayed sunburst; in the center of the sunburst was the Wonderbolt insignia.
The portion of the wall opposite the door was half-covered with granite plaques, each with a cutie mark deeply engraved, but nothing else. Some of them were obviously old, as time had somewhat weathered the engravings and discolored the stone. Rainbow Dash looked in puzzlement to Spitfire, but Spitfire merely gestured for Rainbow Dash to look more closely.
The last of the plaques was fresh, the stone mirror-polished and the edges of the inscription sharp-edged. The glyph was a stylized fireworks rocket. Rainbow Dash took a sharp breath, then turned to face Spitfire. She saw that Spitfire's eyes were as wet as her own were becoming.
"That's... Nimbus, her mark..."
Spitfire nodded. "This is the Hall of the Fallen. These are the marks of the Wonderbolts who have died so that others could live."
Rainbow Dash took a step backwards to take in the wall. There had to be at least twenty of the plaques. "So many..." Once again, tears began flowing.
A moment later Rainbow Dash felt a comforting wing draped across her back. "And she won't be the last. This is what it really means to be a Wonderbolt," Spitfire said quietly. "This is the real reason we exist. I... we... wanted you to see this. Most ponies wouldn't understand, but I think you do."
Rainbow Dash turned to face Spitfire, and saw that behind her, several of the Wonderbolts had gathered in the doorway and were silently watching. Not all of their eyes were dry, either, and none tried to hide that fact.
"So," said Spitfire. "Knowing this, do you still want to be a Wonderbolt someday?"
Rainbow Dash stood still for a long, long while. Her head lowered, and she closed her eyes as two steady drips of renewed grief fell from her cheeks. She finally looked up, and slowly approached the memorial wall. She reached out with a hoof to touch Nimbus' memorial stone.
"More than ever," whispered Rainbow Dash. "More than ever."