//------------------------------//
// Preliminaries: Spike 
// Story: Atlas Strongest Tournament 
// by Bico 
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ATLAS STRONGEST TOURNAMENT
~BICO
PART 3: PRELIMINARIES
ACT II: SPIKE


“Block #1,” a spiky maned stallion with an hour glass cutie mark said. “Hello, everypony, I’ll be your head judge for the preliminaries. You can call me Time Turner.”

Spike looked around at the other competitors gathering at the mats. He wasn’t sure if he’d been thinking completely clearly when he’d decided to sign up for this tournament. He had been training for a month with Master Lao Wu and Ran Biao, but that wasn’t much time to really get good. His magic fire breath training had been useful, of course, and might give him a real edge in the tournament, itself, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal his new abilities this soon.

His second thoughts became third and fourth thoughts as he scoped his opponents. One, particularly, stood out to him. No longer a gangly adolescent dragon, the red-scaled and yellow-finned Garble now looked nearly full grown. They were of similar age, but Garble was a greed-growth dragon, a type which grew to a gigantic height in accordance with their greed, and usually took several years as opposed to a dragon like Spike, who would grow at a slower and steady pace throughout his life. Garble’s type lost a lot of intelligence and self-control compared to Spike’s type, which made Spike even more wary of him. He really hoped that dragon didn’t remember him.

The other challengers were mostly familiar to him as well. Iron Will was a fairly famous minotaur, and he’d even been through Ponyville before, though Spike had never met him personally. Spitfire was a similarly famous Wonderbolt, and captain thereof. She would probably be a real challenge. He was surprised to see Zecora and Snips, who were friends of his, but he didn’t really think they were into martial arts. He was passingly familiar with the teal unicorn, as well. A huge diamond dog was present, introduced as Fido, and he wore a gray jacket. Spike had the sneaking suspicion he’d seen him before, too.

Spike turned to catch the gaze of his caretaker, Twilight, who was staring at him with a mixture of anger and uncertainty in her eyes. Even though he was feeling a distinct ebb of confidence, he couldn’t let her see that. It would just make her feel justified in her disapproval, and if there was one thing that always spelled trouble it was a Twilight who was proven right.

As Mr. Turner was reciting the rules of the preliminaries, he felt a giant elbow nudge him. He looked to his side and saw Garble glaring down at him. He gulped deeply.

“Spike,” Garble said. “Pony in dragon’s scales, right? Too bad this isn’t a tail wrestling contest.” Laughter rumbled out of his throat. “And too bad I’m not Crackle’s cousin!” He pounded his tail merrily on the ground, causing everyone in the vicinity to wobble on their feet.

“Excuse me, Mr. Garble?” Time said. “I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t do that.” He sighed. “In fact, I don’t even know how we’re going to accommodate a dragon as large as you. You’d technically be a ring out in your starting position.”

Garble laughed boisterously. “Just let me fly above the ring then. I don’t need the ground like this wingless pony!” he said, gesturing to Spike.

“Pony?” Time said. “My, my. I could have sworn that was also a dragon. Hmm… maybe some kind of skin condition? Oh, well.”

The officials decided amongst themselves that the only solution for it would be to combine the mats and have Garble and his opponent compete alone after the other three matches had concluded. This would lengthen the time it took to complete this block, but Time Turner assured them that the event had been scheduled to be flexible enough to account for such necessary delays.









Spike was fortunate enough not to have to fight Garble first. Instead, he had lucked out in being assigned as Snips’ first opponent. Snips had grown a little in the years since they had first met, not so much up as out. His barrel was at least half his height, and his legs were short but thick and stout with muscle. He was actually rather strong for a colt of his age, though he wouldn’t be running any marathons.

“Don’t you worry, Spike,” Snips said. “I may be both great and powerful, but I’ll try not to lay into ya too rough.”

Spike gave the colt a razor-sharp grin. “Don’t hold back on my account, Snips. I know I won’t.”

The two challengers squared off, and right away Spike knew he might have trouble. Snips wasn’t really a great fighter, but his special talent was hairdressing. Not that he could mess up Spike’s mane or anything. Spike didn’t have any hair of which to speak. However, his talent came with proficiency for certain spells that could be usefully abused in a fight. Snips started off with just such a spell.

“Mane-curling Horn Strike!” he declared as his horn began to glow red hot. He thrust his horn at Spike, who caught it easily, steam hissing off of his scales.

Spike laughed. “Hey, Snips. You forgetting what I am? Resist 5 to Fire, buddy.” He locked the unicorn’s head in his arms and lifted him up, falling backward to slam him into the mat. He then rolled backward and punched into his gut, scoring the first point.

“Aww,” Snips complained. “I was just warmin’ up. I got more where that came from.”

Spike struck first on the next round, and put some of the basic punches and kicks he had been taught to good use. The basics were about all he had right now, so he had been sure to be as strong in those as he could. After all, he thought, a house couldn’t stand long without a good foundation.

Snips tried to pull a fast one on Spike when he cast a sudden shampoo spell in Spike’s eyes, but he was quick to close his transparent eyelids before the liquid could burn him. He still couldn’t see clearly, but he was able to anticipate the attack the colt would use, and did so accurately. He intercepted Snip’s charge with a swipe of his tail, which struck solidly, earning him another point.

“Alright, Spike,” Snips said with frustration. “I’m not holding back anymore.”

“I told you not to in the first place…” Spike said.

Snip’s horn lit up again, and a crescent of light shot out. It looked… sharp, Spike decided, and he deftly avoided it. He kept firing the cutting spell over and over again, forcing the dragon to use all his acrobatic skill to dodge. He couldn’t keep it up forever, however, and the unicorn finally managed to catch him. The dragon put his arm up over his face moments before the attack hit and he screamed.

Then he looked in puzzlement at his arm. There was a bit of a line there. A groove, perhaps? Still, he hadn’t even felt it. Then it dawned on him. “This is a hair cutting spell.”

“Well…” Snips said. “Y-yeah… It’s for trimming hair. It can cut a mane without even harming the fur on a pony’s neck!” He puffed up proudly.

“Oh,” Spike said. “That actually sounds really useful. Not for a fight, though.”

Snips considered it. “I guess you’re right.”

Spike shrugged and dashed toward Snips, finishing the match with a swift jab to the neck. “Good match, though.”

Spike declined to watch Garble’s match. He was too frightened to even watch the bloodbath which would surely occur. Even worse, it was Zecora who was up against him. However, he was surprised when only minutes later the match went to the zebra. He wondered what she had done.

Spike’s next match was against the celebrity known as Iron Will. He was a big, muscular bull, and Spike wasn’t entirely confident that his draconic strength was up to the challenge. His fellow biped seemed to notice the dragon’s discomfort.

“Hey, listen, kid!” he shouted into Spike’s face. “I just want you to remember: ‘when the competition tries to intimidate, you gotta eliminate!’” He flexed his massive biceps. “The key to victory lies in these words: ‘the bigger they are; the harder they fall, especially on hooves that are cloven and small!’”

Spike cocked his head. “Are… are you giving me tips on how to beat you, Mr. Will?”

Iron Will frowned. “Uh… no.”

When the match started, Spike found himself initially overwhelmed by Will’s strength. He quickly pounded past Spike’s defenses and scored the first point, but, when he had, Spike was watching those hooves. He saw how unsteady the monster seemed on them.

Then next round had Spike focusing on striking at Iron Will's hooves. True to his word, he fell hard, and Spike leaped into the air to deliver a strike at Will’s gut. However, Iron Will’s fist extended suddenly, punching the scaled fighter back into the air. He got back up and bellowed. “Hey, listen! ‘When your opponent has superior reach, you gotta stick to ‘em like a leech!’”

“Uh… right,” Spike said uneasily. He was pretty sure Iron Will was helping him out, now. “Thanks.”

Spike went low again, but when Will began to wobble and fall, Spike went right along with him, not allowing him to get far enough away to punch at him. He drove his fist into Will's rock-hard abs. The next round went similarly, with Spike delivering a tail sweep that knocked Iron Will forward, and Spike struck him in the kidney. For the very last round, Spike was feeling confident enough to go for some straight boxing, keeping himself so close to Will that he wasn’t able to get a decent strike in, while Spike was easily able to deliver his coup de grace.

Iron Will nodded approvingly and said to Spike. “You did well, kid, but that’s only the beginning. If you want to be like me, you need to purchase Dominating Your Sport with Iron Will, on sale now for just 9 easy payments of 9 bits!”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “Did… did you help me beat you just so you could sell a book?”

He coughed uncomfortably. “‘Wh-when your book sales lack force, you got to market at the source?’”

“Sure,” Spike said. He paid closer attention to Garble’s fight, after this, but the diamond dog known as Fido had the mat wiped with him. Quite literally, it appeared. Garble used his size and strength to great advantage to land critical hits on his opponent with little effort.

Spike’s next opponent was Lyra Heartstrings. He gave her a dashing smile, to which she blushed and stammered something about somepony noticing something or other. She was definitely an odd one, as Spike recalled. She had gone to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns along with Twilight, but she had been a year her junior. She always just seemed to be in the background, no matter where they ended up.

As Lyra faced off against Spike, she surprised him once again by rearing up on her hind legs and then, after a moment of adjusting to the new stance, settled into a stance mirroring his own bipedal defensive position. He was duly impressed. Equines could generally go bipedal for a short time, but they couldn’t sustain the pose for long, and certainly couldn’t fight like that. At least, not normally. He wondered what this pony was up to.

Lyra opened the match with a probing high kick which led into a flurry of jabs. She seemed to be practicing a form of bipedal combat—of which Master Lao Wu had given him basic instruction—known as “kickboxing.” She was quite skilled at it, too, in spite of her quadrupedal anatomy. However, he was more used to this form of locomotion, and after a few exchanges, he managed to trip her up by attacking her hind legs while simultaneously pressing her with his own strong jabs.

The next round had Lyra switching it up, her features determined. She exploded into the next round with a series of flashy butterfly kicks, but Spike knew that this was just a tactic to distract him. He was proven right when she suddenly extended her forehoof and her horn flared to life. A ghostly claw seemed to extend from her limb and it grasped him around the neck, clamping down on his windpipe like a vice. She grinned dangerously. “Didn’t think a pony could do this, huh?”

Spike gasped as she released him. That had been a point for her. “Uh… well, Twilight can, but I didn’t expect it from you…”

Lyra scowled at Twilight’s name and looked away. “Well, how do you think I play my lyre, anyway? With hooves? I didn’t know that Twilight knew that spell, too…”

This wasn’t really the time to chat, Spike reminded himself. The two squared off again, and Spike went on the offensive. He really was shocked at how naturally she moved like a biped. He wasn’t really used to fighting other creatures that could balance on their hind legs, and coming from a pony it had really thrown him off. However, now he had her measure, and he countered her flashy maneuvers with his own solid technique. When she tried to use the hand spell again, he ducked and quickly made use of his own flesh-and-blood hands to grab her by the leg and flip her onto her back.

Lyra’s horn ignited again the next round, and both her front hooves were encased in magic hands. She grappled with him, using her dexterity to attempt a myriad of locks and holds, but Spike seemed to have a hand up on her, breaking her techniques before she could bring any of them to bear fruit. He managed to grab her right foreleg in both his own hands, twisting it as he pulled up on her cannon while pressing down upon her elbow, locking her arm behind her back in a painful manner. Before she could attempt to cast a spell to break free, he quickly reversed her momentum and flipped her onto the ground before delivering a final blow to the teal unicorn.

“I… lost…” Lyra said with a whimper. “But maybe… maybe she noticed me this time…” She looked into the crowd, picking out a familiar purple form. She waved, but her dreams were crushed as she saw that the other unicorn had her flank turned to her as she purchased a treat from the concession stand. “Oh… maybe next time.”

“What a weird pony,” Spike commented.

His next opponent was Spitfire, the Wonderbolt captain, herself. This wasn’t going to be easy, he thought to himself. She had nearly managed to turn the tables on Garble the last match with her superior speed, only losing 3:2. She recognized him as they shook… appendages, and said, “Hey, I guess I get to avenge my comrades, now.” She gave him an easy-going wink. Even if she was joking, he’d really hoped nopony would remember that.

Their match went quickly. Spike’s opening gambit failed, unfortunately, due to the captain’s savvy skill and superior speed. She saw through his feints easily and knocked him to the mat with a well-placed hoof to his jaw.

Spike attempted to trip up the captain with his tail adding a dimension to the fight that ponies weren’t generally used to, though most of them probably weren’t used to fighting a biped, either. It seemed to work for the next round as she reared in surprise at a tail sweep that allowed him to strike her in the breastbone.

Spitfire wasn’t going to take that lying down, however, and she stepped up her game. She was on the look-out for his tail, now. She scored another point against him within moments, and the next round went no better. Spike left the mat defeated.

To say that Spike was in a foul mood when he went up against the huge diamond dog, Fido, was an understatement. He knew right off the bat what the weakness of this dog was. Just as with Garble, the dog wanted to charge him using nothing but raw power. Spike snorted and launched him over his hip, throwing him to the ground. The next attack by Fido was an attempted dog pile, which Spike merely sidestepped before bringing his tail down upon him. Finally, Fido tried a haymaker, but the annoyed dragon caught the dog’s fist in his claw and drove his fist into his opponent’s gut, making him squeal in pain.

Spike was far calmer when he faced Zecora. After all, this was a friend of his. She smiled at him and said, “Young Spike it is odd indeed to find you embracing the warrior’s creed.”

Spike shook her hoof. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m doing this for somepony… to prove to that somepony that I’m somepony worth—”

Zecora held up a hoof and nodded in understanding. “When it comes to matters of the heart, within you is the first place to start. Anypony can be fooled by putting on a show or a clever line, but only by knowing who you are can your true self shine.”

Spike grinned awkwardly. “Thanks… I dunno why everypony has to keep giving me advice in rhyme, though.”

Spike waited for Zecora to attack as he found it difficult to actually make the first move against his wise friend. He figured she might feel the same way, and when she did attack it seemed reluctant. She wielded a long staff which she manipulated expertly, her first blows being meant to test the dragon. “Spike, when your opponent has superior reach—”

“‘You gotta stick to ‘em like a leech,’ I know,” Spike said.

She cocked an eyebrow. “That is not what I was going to say, but it works the same either way.” She raised her staff in preparation to strike, and that’s when the young dragon closed in and began to engage her in earnest. Even up close she was very good, and her look of confidence never left her, even as he scored a hit. “That is very good Spike, but you’ve a ways to go; when you’re ready for the test, I’ll tell you so.”

“Uhh…” Spike said. “Okay.” He went on the attack again. He tried to stay in close, but Zecora wasn’t letting him have his way this time. Even without the advantage of reach she seemed able to ward off his attacks easily. She scored her own point when she rammed her head into his face.

“If an opponent makes you feel like a nit,” Zecora said as she twirled her staff lazily about her neck. “You should stay in places they cannot hit.”









But where couldn’t she hit, he thought. He watched as she twirled the staff around, and realized suddenly that there was a place she couldn’t get to with that thing. Of course, getting to that place would be very tricky. He decided to go for it, and he burst into motion. He blocked the strikes of the staff with his arm, his limbs beginning to numb from the impacts. He grinned when he got through the gauntlet and saw that his way would be clear. He leaped over Zecora’s head and onto her croup. She tried to swing the staff back at him, but she couldn’t quite get close enough. Spike repositioned himself before she could start bucking and landed a fist gently in her kidney.

The next round, Spike tried the tactic again, but this time Zecora was ready and took him for a rough ride around the mat before throwing him off and striking him with her staff. She sighed and shook her head. “Come at your foe just the same, and you will wind up rather lame.”

Spike snorted with determination and weighed his options. This time he kept his distance and let her strike at him. That was fine. As she said, if he kept using the same strategy over and over, he would be beaten in short order. He had just the trick to pull. When Zecora seemed to tire of playing with him, she thrust her staff violently at him, at which point he released his fire breath. Her staff began to disintegrate, and she shouted and released her weapon as the green flamed engulfed it. Spike had to keep his breath going for longer than he would have wanted in a fight, but the staff was light and disintegrated quickly.

Spike smirked and leaped high into the air, the green smoke of the staff coiling around him. The staff rematerialized as he reached the apex of his jump, and he swung it down on the shocked zebra, scoring his last point.

Zecora smiled at Spike. “A lesson many fighters have declined is the importance of a creative mind.”

Spike flushed. “Thanks, Zecora,” Spike said. “You kinda let me have that one, though.”

She shook her head. “Of everyone I gave an equal chance, but only you could interrupt my dance.”

Spike got to sit out the next match, as he was the last to fight Garble. He wasn’t looking forward to that at all. He still remembered when he had gone on his quest to find out what it meant to be a dragon, and he had first met the adolescent. He had been outmatched on pretty much everything at which average dragons excelled. Even if those dragons had been uncommonly cruel—being adolescents, after all—it still told him that he would be woefully over-matched in the physical department. Then again, the Scaly Backs River Clan had told him about how dragons who grew too fast sacrificed a lot upstairs. It had certainly cost him, though as he understood it he had been an unusual case of a dragon growing to full size in a matter of days when even the quick growers took about three years. Now, though, he was growing at such a slow pace it would take a century to reach that size, so he should have an edge intellectually. He thought back to the advice he had been given by Zecora and even Iron Will.

Speaking of those two, they were the last match to end. Spike snapped out of his reverie when Iron Will began to shout to Zecora, “‘If it’s me you wanna out-rhyme, you’ll have a bad time!’” Then he rushed her with a flurry of punches.

Zecora merely responded, “It may be a good thing that you don’t wear a shirt, since it won’t get ruined when you’re face-down in the dirt.” Then she tossed him in the air with her staff and fulfilled her prophecy promptly.

Spike sighed. It seemed it was about time to be crippled. He looked over at Garble, who roared ferociously at him. That was quite intimidating. But, no, he thought. “When the competition tries to intimidate, you gotta eliminate” was what Iron Will had said. He assumed Iron Will hadn’t meant that he should invest in brown pants. No, he had to show this dragon that he could strike hard and fast. Garble had a very long reach, too, so Spike would have to keep close. That was the mistake Garble’s other opponents had made. They didn’t want to be close to a huge, ravenous dragon.

Spike charged Garble the moment the round started. If an opponent makes you feel like a nit, you should stay in places they cannot hit. He dove between the dragon’s legs and began to leap up the dragon’s calves.

“Hey, you wimpy pony in dragon’s scales!” Garble raged. “Come here where I can punch you!”

As if Spike would listen to that drivel. He reached Garble’s back and began to run along it, and he noted his competitor’s attempts to claw at him, but his arms were far too short to reach him back there. He finally leaped into the air and crashed down on the back of his neck. Garble was barely fazed, but that didn’t matter. This match was all for points, Spike realized. Even if his attacks didn’t daunt the dragon, the fact that he was able to hit any vital points at all was what counted, and Garble had vital points several pony-lengths wide.

He varied his strategy for the next round, letting Garble attempt to flatten him with his palm before he dodged to the side and jumped onto the back of his claw. Garble then attempted to pound him with a fist, but Spike galloped up his arm moments before impact, letting him wail in pain as he hurt no one but himself. Spike leaped off the arm and did a flying kick right into Garble’s gut, feeling as if he’d broken his leg by doing so, but having scored another point.

Garble had gotten fed up at this point. “Alright, you little weakling. You think you can trick me? Try this on for size!” He launched himself into the air, the down gust blasting into the competitors and judges mercilessly. He took a deep breath and began to belch flames into the ground below. He took little care to aim, so the other contestants and judges were forced to scatter as he bombarded them with fire.

Spike almost panicked, but he remembered what Zecora had said: “A lesson many fighters have declined is the importance of a creative mind.” He thought hard for a moment. How could he turn this to his advantage? What in his arsenal would allow him to attack a flying dragon who was breathing fire at him? Fire… yes, he might have it. “Ideeea!” he declared. “I just hope it works…”

Spike waved to his opponent and shouted desperately. “Come on, you big brute! Can’t you hit me? Am I too small a target?”

Garble roared as he registered the smaller dragon’s flailing. “Garble… Garble burn puny Spike!” Fire poured out of his mouth right at his foe, and the tiny dragon breathed his own deep breath before attempting to meet the natural dragon flames with his own green fire.

Garble’s flames engulfed Spike, but Garble kept pouring it on. After all, dragons were resistant to fire, but enough of another dragon’s fire could still cause a lot of pain to one of his kind. However, he soon became wary when he found that the ball of fire his victim was immersed in began to take on a green hue. What was this? Dragon fire wasn’t green.

Garble’s eyes bugged out as he found his mouth suddenly snapped shut by a force from beneath his chin. He squeaked and smoke billowed out of his nose, ears, and the corners of his eyes. He fell to the ground with a tremendous thud, and groaned loudly. “I… I thing I bid my thongue…”

Spike laughed as he hung from one of Garble’s wings, which he’d managed to grab onto while they were falling. “Wow. I didn’t know if that would actually work, but I guess my magic fire really was able to merge with your regular fire. It teleported me right up to you.”

The judges didn’t have to deliberate for long. After a few moments, Time Turner announced the results. “Though the points tell us Zecora and Spike are tied, the decision that Spike advances is cut and dried.”

Spike grinned broadly and hugged Zecora. He accepted the other contestants’ congratulations, though Garble was notably withdrawn, and congratulated them all in turn for the skill they had all shown.

“Just remember, Spike, what I told you,” Zecora said. “Whatever happens, to your own heart be true.”









To be continued…