“OW! Do you have to move it like that, mother?”



Golden Flare’s voice was a mixture of pain and annoyance. It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself in trouble with his parents. What was supposed to be a fun day of sneaking off to Cloudsdale took a turn when he’d misjudged the landing on his balcony in Canterlot, winding up in the hospital with a broken wing.



Brilliant Cut, on the verge of tears, carefully released the plastered wing from her magical grip. “I’m sorry, dear. You know how much I worry about you.”



Silver Flare, the patriarch of the Flare family, was less sympathetic.



“How many times have we told you to not sneak off to those delinquent friends of yours? Do you get some sort of sick thrill out of this? You could have died! I have tried countless times to drill it into your skull that you can’t keep pulling these stunts! Do you not care about the importance of your role as my heir?”



“Oh, really, father? Was that not obvious?” Golden Flare scoffed.



“Don’t talk back to me like that!”



Silver Flare bit back his flaring temper and sighed.



“I’m… I’m sorry for snapping,” he muttered. “We have tried to give you the best possible life here, son. I know that, in hindsight, Canterlot may not have been the ideal city to raise a Pegasus, but we have given you every opportunity. You have wanted for nothing your entire life! Why do you keep doing this?”



It was Golden Flare’s turn to be angry. “Now you ask? Have you ever thought I might want more than this? How I have to deal with everyone here constantly second-guessing me because I’m not a unicorn? I don’t want to spend my entire life running something you made! I want to make something for myself!”



Silver Flare hardened his gaze. “It’s not that simple, son. You need to understand—”



“No,” Golden Flare snapped. “I don’t want to hear another lecture about legacy. I need to cool off. I’m going for a fly…”



The injured Pegasus winced as their wing twitched with pain beneath its cast.



“Never mind. I’ll just be out.”