[A/N: I would like to thank everyone out there who has taken the time to read these stories. Any review or comment is appreciated, even a few sentences go a long way! I guess now would be a reasonable time to explain some little details about the style. Some may have noticed that all the characters in here have names that are, well, just names, while the in-universe convention for MLP appears to be giving characters names that are indicative of their personalities. I am circumventing this convention mainly to make the story more accessible to those unfamiliar with the series. Just in case anyone was wondering. Anyway, please do enjoy this next chapter.]

Chapter 4: Storm Clouds

Gabe Sotheby awoke slowly from his peaceful rest. The light of dawn had just begun to creep into the loft he inhabited inside his parent's house. Standing up straight and stretching himself out, Gabe gazed lazily out the window. The far horizon was completely clear, and the sun's light gleamed upon the roofs and streets of the city, casting a heavenly aura about the place. What a wonderful day for flying it was going to be.

Since it was a weekend, Gabe took his time going through his morning routine before coming down for breakfast. He didn't bother to comb his mane, however, as it would be ruffled by the wind soon anyway. With an eager bounce in his step, he came down the stairs, finding his parents engaging in their usual weekend routine, going through the motions of preparing breakfast and planning out their day. He sat at the table for his portion of the weekly rationed breakfast. As Cloudsdale was situated at such an altitude, it was difficult, though not impossible, to grow food. As such, the operation was handled by the public service, and meals were rationed out to citizens on a weekly basis. Even though the food got a bit monotonous after some time, no one ever complained. By now, it was all they had ever known.

"So," remarked Gabe's father, "got any big plans for the weekend?"

"Nothing much, I guess." Gabe replied. "Thought I'd take to the skies today, maybe catch up on some homework this evening."

His father nodded, but Gabe caught the glance that passed between his parents in that instant. They were not pleased with such a nonchalant itinerary, nor had they been the previous weekend, or the weekend before that. His mother had been a famed philosopher, and his father was a renowned athlete, three-time monthly champion. Both of them were clearly eager for their son to start making some plans for his own future. Knowing where the conversation would turn from here, he focused on breakfast.

"You know," began his mother, as she had dozens of times before, "in a few months you'll be done with school, and ready to start making a life for yourself. I don't suppose you've given much thought to what sort of life you'd like to live?"

"Nope," he replied. "Something will come along, I'm sure. I've still got my whole life ahead of me, open to whatever I choose. When the time comes, I'll know it." He continued quickly eating his breakfast, eager to get out before the conversation went much farther.

His father stood up from the table, and walked over to the kitchen where his mother stood. Speaking as he rummaged about in a cupboard, he continued with the routine speech. "Well Gabe, your mother and I respect that decision of yours. This is your life to live. It's just that sometimes opportunities don't just come up and knock you over. You have to go out and find them for yourself, or else you wouldn't even know they were there." Coming back to his son's side, he laid a hoof on Gabe's shoulder. "Tell you what, I was speaking to Todd the other day, and he said there were some openings in the printing trade. How about you and I go down to the market this afternoon and try it out?"

Coming over to the table, his mother chimed in. "It would only be a tryout. Just to get some information on what the trade is like."

Hastily wiping the remnants of breakfast from his face, Gabe got up from the table and made for the door. "Well Dad, that does sound pretty interesting, but I promised the, uh, guys that I'd go out with them this afternoon, so I'm afraid I can't. See you around!" And with that, he was gone. His parents exchanged a knowing look, well aware that he had made no such promises, but unable to broach their true fears with him.

As Gabe climbed up into the sky, his mind roiled with his parents' words, as it always did on a day like today. He had seen the anxiety on their faces, and he did feel at least a little bit guilty, because there was a part of him that knew they were right. Gabe only had three months left before he was done with school, and it would be expected that he would contribute something to society at that point. As it stood, he hadn't the faintest idea where his future might lead. Perhaps now was the time to start thinking about such things.

Gabe flew a lazy circuit through the sky as he slowly left Cloudsdale behind. Along the way, he ran into a few of the older, more experienced fliers, who were also out enjoying their day off. All of them knew him by sight, and offered advice about where the updrafts were best, as well as a warning about possible rain later in the day. Gabe passed by all of them with only a nod of the head. The sky was his domain, and nothing would stop him from enjoying it. He had a particular destination in mind today, a secluded corner of the atmosphere where he often set down to think about things, sometimes for hours at a time.

Glancing about to ascertain his position, Gabe continued his course due east. The winds whistled in his mind like always, and he sensed a certain violent potential to them. Lately, he had begun to realize that the sounds of the winds followed distinct patterns, indicative of the weather. Certain atmospheric activities had their own unique sounds, almost like words in a language of the sky. Given some more time to study it, Gabe wondered if he might be able to definitively ascertain the various sounds, but for now they all merged together into a reassuring melody in his ears.

Finding his favorite spot deserted as it always was, Gabe flew a final loop to check on the surrounding sky. A thunderhead was indeed brewing in the distance, but it was a few hours off, and he could be long gone before the storm hit. And so he set down on his favorite spot, admiring the sun as it shone through the clouds in the area. Now, he thought, time to make some consideration for my parents…

Several Hours Later

Ten minutes ago, Gabe had suddenly woken up from his slumber to find the air a tumult of rain and wind. Silently, he had berated himself for the ill-advised nap. With the storm about to hit, and by all indications, hit hard, he had a decision to make. He could stay here and ride out the storm, which was definitely the safe option, or attempt to make it home before the tempest hit. Confident in his navigational abilities and eager to get home to avoid the downpour, he had taken to the skies and started heading for home.

Now, as Gabe sped along the route, the sky darkened continuously, and thunder rolled just behind him. As the sun had now been obscured, he could barely see where he was headed, and for the first time, he began to fear getting lost in the storm. Lighting crackled, momentarily lighting his way for just a second, before being again replaced by the crushing darkness and a thick rumble of thunder that seemed to come from all around him. Rain drenched him in a sudden downpour, as the winds began to buffet him in a constant swirl. Gabe struggled to keep his sense of direction in the tumult.

Fighting the pull of the wind, Gabe kept a straight course, though where he was going he was no longer certain of. The penetrating darkness of the storm and the swirling winds had him disoriented, and for the first time, Gabe felt truly frightened for his own safety. He felt himself on the verge of panic. The sound of the wind, usually reassuring, had instead re-formed itself into a penetratingly deep rumble inside his head, a constantly repeating sequence of tones. The sounds jarred his thoughts away from the situation for a moment, and Gabe let them pass through him, feeling their power. He wondered what they could be. Was this the word for the winds of storm, in the mysterious language of the sky? Could he use it?

As he felt the strength in his wings deteriorating, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay aloft much longer. Already he was slowly drifting lower, weighed down by the heavy rains and malevolent wind. In a desperate position, he knew that this word would have to be his last gamble. Focusing once again on the sound within his mind, he listened to it carefully. A simple repetitive sequence of bass tones, earth-shaking in their power, but not overly complex in style, he realized. Composing himself, he began slowly and firmly, letting his voice rise and fall with the ebb and flow of the storm. Immediately he felt a change, as the winds no longer beat his body around roughly, instead flowing around and embracing him almost lovingly.

This small victory emboldened him further, and he continued mimicking the sound of the storm, letting more vocal power slip into the words. Though he was drowned out by the sound of the storm, he felt almost as though the clouds and the rain were becoming part of him, rather than his enemies. Whereas before they barred his way and tossed him about, now they almost pushed him towards his goal. Feeling confidence grow, he let loose a full-throated shout in time with the wind, and felt the edge of the storm roll up in front of him like a curtain. Illuminated for a moment in a bright flash of lightning, he saw the city, tantalizingly close, perhaps within reach. With a final yell, he shot out of the storm like a stone from a sling, speeding along his way home. The storm closed up behind him, continuing on its way like a hulking behemoth.

As he felt the reverberations of the storm slowly fade within his mind, he was suddenly taken with an overwhelming exhaustion. Navigating the storm had taken more out of him than he had felt at the time, and looking now at the outline of Cloudsdale on the horizon, he knew that he wasn't going to make it back.

This left only one alternative: falling to the surface below. Gabe had no idea what to expect as he drifted slowly downwards, struggling on each stroke of his wings to maintain altitude. As the blurry colors of the world below shaped themselves into recognizable outlines, he spotted a small village lit up for the coming darkness. Feeling his last strength leave him, Gabe made for the village.

As his wings finally gave out, and he felt darkness begin creeping through the edges of his vision, Gabe hoped fervently that whatever he found down on the surface would be enough for him to live with. His last thoughts were for his parents, and how they would react to news that he had been lost. He wished them all the best in their futures. In that moment, everything went black.

Five Minutes Later, On the Surface

Genevieve was seated on the back porch waiting for the storm to hit. She had always enjoyed watching storms when she was younger, as the power of the natural world was on full display, and the growling of thunder sent chills down her spine. Unfortunately, the rain was not welcome tonight, as the café had closed early, and each of her friends had been occupied with preparing for the storm with their own families.

Still, the proposal had been coming along well thus far. Everyone that she had talked to seemed wholeheartedly in favor of the idea, at least when faced with the prospect of losing their property entirely. In a few days, the meeting would go ahead, and Genevieve was sure that she would have no problem rallying the townsfolk to her cause.

As Genevieve gazed up at the sky, a bolt of lighting flickered on the horizon, casting the nearby area in deep and sharp shadows. Suddenly, she noticed a strange sight. A vaguely pony-like form was falling on a steep arc towards their property, caught in silhouette by the lightning. In shock, Genevieve watched as it continued to fall, arcing swiftly to the ground in the distance. Even though it was beginning to spit rain, Genevieve knew that she had to investigate. Calling for her parents, she galloped off into the field.

From the little she had seen, it seemed as though the object had landed in the area of the pond in back of their property. If it had landed in the water, she knew there was a chance it was still alive, if it was indeed a living thing. These may indeed be strange times, she realized, but ponies falling from the sky? The concept seemed immediately laughable. Still, if there was any chance that this creature needed her help, Genevieve was going to be there to offer it.

Cresting the small hill that hid the pond from the view of the house, Genevieve came down to the water's edge. In the flicker of the lightning, she could see the creature lying face-up in the shallow water, and she could tell that it was indeed a pony, but like none that she had ever seen, as two graceful wings were folded against its back. Still, it appeared relatively unharmed, a virtual miracle given its lengthy fall. Genevieve waded out into the water, and was struck by the serenity that she saw on the face of the male, who appeared to be about her own age. Despite what had obviously been a harrowing experience, the unconscious victim appeared supremely peaceful, almost content. Still, the rest of his body showed obvious bruises and cuts, so Genevieve took hold of him and carefully hauled him back to the shore, where Armand and Violet now stood.

Seeing the wings that adorned the back of the stranger, Armand was visibly shaken. He hastily spoke a few words into Violet's ear, before hoisting the unconscious newcomer onto his back and starting to head for home. As they walked, Violet spoke to Genevieve in reassuring tones, congratulating her on her sharp eyesight, and letting her know that they were going to do everything that they could to help the poor male. In fact, it was likely that all he required was a few days of rest and recuperation. But Genevieve detected a faint undertone of fear in her mother's words, as well as in her father's stoic and silent demeanor. Whatever this unfortunate newcomer was, he was not just a fellow that needed a little rest and relaxation; of that she was sure.