//------------------------------// // Polar Opposites! You Need To Be... // Story: Ponyville's First Warrior Meet // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// “Rumble, Scootaloo? A word, please.” The two pegasus foals stopped as the rest went off for lunch, with Moongazer stealthily herding the group away. “What’s the matter?” Rumble asked as he sat down. “You picked up on the aura sight pretty quickly, Rumble. Did you learn that from my book or did someone explain that to ya before?” The boy rubbed the back of his head, eyes planted firmly on the floor. “Umm, sort of, I guess. Explained, I mean.” “And you, Scootaloo, seem completely unable to do it. Which is weird, because you’ve got a Water type personality; you’re supposed to be good at it.” “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, sir. I’ll try harder after lunch.” Scootaloo’s stomach let off an insistent groan. “Uhuh. You know, you can tell a lot about a pony by their aura. If they don’t know how to hide their intent, you can tell when they’re lying, when they’re scared, you can even tell their personality without talkin’ to them. For example, you, Rumble, have the aura of someone who doesn’t think very highly of himself.” “Seriously?” Scootaloo said. “You’re kidding, right? Rumble’s one of the best athletes in Ponyville, next to me. He even got in on tornado practice when it was Ponyville’s turn, he learned to fly before I did. He’s got nothing to be ashamed about.” Ash raised an eyebrow at that. “Right?” Scootaloo nudged the boy. Rumble shrugged. “Well, I might be one of the best in Ponyville, but that doesn’t mean that much.” Ash’s ears perked. “Do tell.” “It’s nothing, sir, it’s just that… well, our friend who does martial arts? He’s from, err, he’s from Bogsdown,” Rumble said. The grandmaster’s body tensed. “Oh. You’ve been around them parts, huh? Scary place for a country pony. All the kids there are in clubs, in competition. Folk in that town, they’re a whole ‘nother breed of nasty. They can be pretty brutal. When they’re not on friendly terms with you, of course.” “I’ve noticed,” Scootaloo said. “And this friend, he knows how to see auras, and he tried to teach you both, I presume?” They both nodded. “I couldn’t really get the hang of it. I still can’t.” Scootaloo shrugged. “That’s not so bad, Scootaloo. At least you can punch okay. Me, I can’t put any real power behind it for some reason,” Rumble remarked. Ash tilted his head. “You two are an odd couple, you know that?” “We are not a couple!” Scootaloo shouted, before remembering who she was talking to. “Umm, Grandmaster Ash, sir.” “We’re just, umm, friends. We hang out, but that’s it,” Rumble stammered. “See, there it is again.” The Shadowbolt gestured back and forth between the two. “Y’all are polar opposites, but you’re both unbalanced.” “What? But I have great balance,” Scootaloo said. “It’s true; she can stand on one front hoof and do a spin,” Rumble added. “Sure, physically your balance is good, both of you. But mentally, your cranium isn’t hearin’ what your cardiac pump is tryin’ to cultivate. Your heart just ain’t in it, and you’re gonna keep failing at what you’re doing if you don’t fix it.” “And how do we fix it?” Rumble asked. “Rumble, be honest with yourself: do you think you’re strong and fast?” The boy shrugged. “Not that strong or fast, no.” “Scootaloo, do you think you’re awesome?” “Yeah, I think I am pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.” She smiled sheepishly. The Shadowbolt smiled. “So really, you’re good as is, Scootaloo, you just need to work harder.” “Exactly.” “Rumble?” The boy shrugged. “I think I’m doing it wrong. There’s gotta be something I’m missing. Maybe I just need to stretch more?” “Well, there’s your problem,” Ash said. “What is?” “Water types like you thrive on being fluid, on changing. You achieve harmony by going with the flow. Your heart, mind, and body are supposed to be in tune with each other to be able to move with the right speed and force, with that distinct relaxed focus. But Rumble, you’re so convinced there’s something wrong with you that you never acknowledge what you’re doing right. You have a fine technique, but you keep makin’ life hard on yourself and sabotaging everything you do. You don’t overthink it, so your technique is fine, but you’re full of doubt, which creates a block. You never enter a state of proper flow.” The boy’s ears drooped. “Oh. I guess that explains it.” “Right there, see? You’re not even denying it. Back in the forest, when I tested you, you could’ve gotten off easy. I could tell you were fit enough to train, that you had some of the basics already. But you had to go and prove that you were ready. Come to think of it, I’m startin’ to wonder if you really wanted to prove it to me, or if you wanted to prove it to yourself. Seems kind of excessive, you know, from where little old me is sitting. Despite all your skills, despite what anypony might say about you… you just can’t accept the idea that you’re pretty good, by any standard. That’s why you couldn’t stun Spike earlier: your heart just ain’t in it.” “Well, my brother’s a lot better than me.” Ash’s ears twitched again. “What, Thunderlane? Big black guy, greenish white mohawk?” “How do you know him?” “He tried datin’ my daughter with a crooked back.” This made Rumble grimace in thought. “Your daughter has a crooked back?” “No, Thunderlane did. So I straightened it for him. Then he couldn’t walk for three weeks. Like I’m supposed to know he has other pre-existing conditions just ‘coz I’m a grandmaster. Anyhow, humility is a good trait to have, Rumble, it really is. But you gotta stand tall and proud when you fight. That’s true for Earth style and it’s true for Water style. You gotta be the wave that tips over the ship, not just a little splash. Try meditating on the things you’re proud of, picture yourself as a leader, as an alpha. But a kind one, mind you, brutes don’t get very far in this school.” Rumble and Scootaloo shivered as they exchanged a glance. Ash caught it, of course. “Might I inquire as to why that thought scares you so much?” Scootaloo sighed. “Umm, that friend of ours, umm, he’s err…” Silence hung in the air. The Ashen Blizzard felt his heart sink when the reality of it all finally dawned on him. “Oh. Oh, now I see. Y’all have had a run-in with the Feather Cloaks, ain’t ya?” “Yes, sir.” “Oh, goodness gracious me, no wonder you don’t take pride in what you do. But look, youngins, the Feather Cloaks are different from what I teach, radically different. They base their teachings on only one state of mind: that of an angry, overconfident blowhard whose idea of stealth is marchin’ in like he owns the place and hoping no one questions him. You’re not gonna lose yourself if you just take a little pride in your accomplishments. You have to face who you are for this to work, and that means accepting the bad and the good.” “Yeah, like me.” Scootaloo squeed. Ash rolled his eyes. “Now, I wouldn’t go that far. You, Scootaloo, are so convinced that you’re awesome and perfect that it doesn’t occur to you that you might need to try a different approach. You’re not opening yourself up to something new, just sticking with the old and hoping it’ll be enough.” “And how do I get around that?” “Practise with a friend, practise with Rumble. Seeing auras requires relaxed concentration, you can’t force it. You have to clear your mind and let your eyes go out of focus a bit. But most importantly, you have to let it happen. If you want it too badly, it won’t work.” “Okay, I think I can manage that.” “Good. Now run along and get your lunch, we’ll cover it again in the afternoon.” The two trotted off. “Maybe we should tell Apple Bloom and the others the truth,” Rumble whispered once their master was out of earshot. “What? No!” “Why not? They’re gonna find out sooner or later. And they’re gonna be angry at you for keeping it a secret.” “I know. I just want to wait for the right time, okay?” Rumble and Whimper exchanged blows, one careful not to hit too hard, the other never getting enough power behind his strikes to have to worry. Rumble was a pushover like that. “So… that’s how it is now,” Whimper said, dodging another slow and deliberate strike for practice. He was shaking like a leaf, and his voice cracked from time to time. His mind wasn’t in the practice. “I have to take martial arts classes, in a club. I don’t get a say in it.” “But they can’t do that,” Rumble argued. “They can’t force you to join a club, they don’t have the right to. Who is this guy, anyway?” “Master Blazing Trail. I think he’s friends with Coach Buster.” “It sure sounded like he was,” Peachy said. “It’s a pretty rotten thing to do, if you ask me.” Scootaloo quirked an eyebrow. “And did he make you sign up?” “Not yet,” Whimper replied. “But Coach Buster told me to at least try it. He said it might help me grow a spine. And if I refuse, I’ll get in trouble when school starts again. He said I’d have to go see a psychiatrist if I didn’t, take pills to stay calm.” “That jerk, he can’t do that,” Scootaloo said. “I think he could,” Peachy replied. “Jocks get away with everything around here, remember?” “But a gym teacher can’t get you put on pills just because you hit some kid once,” Rumble argued. “That’s crazy. That’s gotta be a bluff, there’s no way.” “So what did you do?” Scootaloo asked. “Did you like the lesson, at least?” Whimper clenched his jaw. The Feather Cloak dojo was a bastion of the finer martial arts. Ornate paintings on the doors, clean tatamis, and the smell of incense to drive away that stench of pony perspiration and tears. Master Blazing Trail stood tall before the boy, a white unicorn stallion with a golden horn, something that was apparently a mark of distinction in unicorn circles. Like a true master, his body had decent muscle tone, but he wasn’t ripped. His mane and tail were both well-kept and cut at functional length, as well as shined to show off his colouration: burgundy with crimson streaks through it, something that would let him pass as an aristocrat if he ever felt like crashing a Canterlot party. His cutie mark might have posed an obstacle to such plans, though, as it was a ninja star, shining and sparkling like it had been freshly polished. Nothing a costume couldn’t cover up. His eyes were his best feature, though. Deep, dark red like his hair, with an intensity behind them that made it feel like every little move, every little twitch, would be noted and registered. “So, you’re the kid Buster’s been complaining about, huh?” Master Blazing said. Whimper cringed. “Yes, sir.” The stallion appraised the boy, circling around him like a predator. “I was expecting you to be smaller. You’re pretty buff for a wimp.” Whimper rubbed his wings to his sides nervously. “I bulked up a while back, sir.” “I can see that. But is it just for show or is it functional strength?” “Functional, sir.” Whimper shivered when the stallion came closer. “Ever try any competition, then?” “The Applecross Games, sir. Just once.” Blazing Trail snickered. “Very funny. The Applecross is for adults. Even with your build, you couldn’t do any of the events.” “Umm, no, sir, but there’s no age limit, just a strength limit. And I was strong enough to enter, so…” Blazing raised his eyebrows. “You’re not joking? Well, then, colour me impressed. What method did you use to, ah, bulk up, if I might ask? Any particular program?” “Chuck Boulders, sir.” “Ah, that one. That’s a classic. Tough to reach such extremes with, though, I should imagine.” “A little. And, umm, the Great Wolf Fang. I mixed it up a little.” Blazing hummed to himself. “Good thinking. It takes hard work to build a physique like yours, especially at your age. I take it you eat well? You ever see a dietician?” “My mom is Passiflora, sir.” The grandmaster nodded. “Hrm, and your father?” “Summer Breeze, sir. Captain Summer Breeze, of Bogsdown Weather Patrol.” Blazing whistled. “Well, well, a colt of fine pedigree, then. That’s good.” He fell silent for a moment and smiled, pensive. “That’s very good. So, my boy, have you done any martial arts before?” “A-a little. I just practise at home, or with my friends. Mostly stuff from books. The Major Fair Weather Method, and some Royal Guard stuff.” “Books don’t teach you everything about combat, boy. I heard you pack a mean wallop.” “It was an accident, sir. I didn’t mean to hit that boy.” Blazing tilted his head in surprise. “‘That boy,’ is it, now? The one Buster’s so upset about? You don’t even know his name?” Whimper shook his head. “No, sir. I’m not on his team. I’m not on anyone’s team. And he’s not in my class, so I don’t know him. I’m really sorry.” The unicorn shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, don’t be. Buster exaggerates, if you ask me. He wants you to behave. I, however, am only interested in your skills. Your strength is obviously good, but how’s your speed? And your, ah, stamina?” “Not so good, not really.” Whimper took a step back. “Oh? Do I detect a little wheeze in your lungs?” Whimper cleared his throat and backed away more. “It only happens when I go fast for too long, or when I’m nervous.” Blazing slapped him in the chest, knocking Whimper back. He held a hoof up as a cue to get the boy to look him in the eyes. “Stop backing off, Whimper. First lesson of the Feather Cloak School: stand proud. Never back down in front of an opponent, face them head-on. I will be your opponent, so stand.” Whimper shakily got to his hooves. “U-umm, aren’t we supposed to practise the basics first?” “These are the basics.” Blazing shoved him back again. “Stand firm, Wimpy.” Whimper clenched his jaw and buckled, but he stayed on all fours. “Please don’t call me that.” “Why not? It’s what you are, isn’t it? It’s why you’re here, to stop being a spineless little wimp who’ll let anyone walk all over him. It’s why Buster can force you to come here. You want it to stop, make it stop. Stand firm.” Blazing Trail knocked Whimper with a backhooved blow, but found his attack blocked this time. Whimper snorted, his breathing came in loud as he trembled with anger. “Don’t, sir. I don’t do well when I’m angry.” The stallion smirked and squinted his eyes. A training dummy was dragged over the floor to rest in front of the boy. “That’s not what I heard. The way I hear it, you’re a real champ when you’re angry. You’re not even scared of downright attacking a classmate when you’re angry.” Whimper huffed and looked away. “Those are accidents. I can’t always control my temper, and since I bulked up, that’s a little dangerous.” Blazing let out a hearty laugh. “Not to you, it’s not, not anymore. Someone provokes you, you attack them. Action, reaction, it’s a simple law of physics, no questions asked. I’m surprised you didn’t come my way sooner; your type usually does. Do you even realise the strength you wield when you assert yourself? No worries about consequences, no cares about how much those jerks will whine to the teachers. It takes real power to use that sort of aggression. Why would you want to be a spineless little coward all the time, huh? Let that anger out.” Whimper shook his head. “I’m not a bully.” Blazing leaned in to whisper. “Let’s not kid ourselves, of course you are. Look at you: you’re all muscle. Didn’t it hurt to build that up?” Whimper gulped. “Sometimes.” “You earned your strength.” “Yes.” “Then you have earned... the right... to stand up for yourself, have you not?” “Yes, sir.” He backed away. “And yet you still let everyone push you around. Buster was right, sending you to me. His motivations are deplorable at best, but his judgement is sound, at least. This will be good for you, I promise, and Buster’s not going to bother you if you just pay attention to these lessons. You have too much potential to squander. If you just learn to hold your head up high, speak up for yourself, you wouldn’t have to take anything from anyone, ever again. You wouldn’t have to snap, because no one would dare push you that far. Look at that training dummy.” He pointed to the thing in front of Whimper. “Pretend for just a second that it’s a kid who’s been picking on you.” Whimper closed his eyes. “I’d rather not.” Again, Blazing slapped him, in the sides this time. “Quit pushing yourself down, boy! You’re better than they are, and it’s about time you started acting like it. You could be a fighter, a real warrior, a legend, if you just accepted who you are. Quit acting like a victim. What if that dummy took your lunch, what would you do then?” Whimper shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the memories flooding his mind. Coach Buster had given this guy everything he needed to get under the boy’s skin. “What if he threw your lunch to the ground, huh? What if he made fun of you after you had another wheezing fit?” “That doesn’t make it okay,” Whimper argued. “And what if he picked on one of your friends, then? What do you do when a bully goes after Peachy Pie?” Whimper shook with rage. “I destroy them.” “And that Wonderbolt recruit’s little brother? Rumble, was it?” “Yes.” “What if someone picks on him?” “I stop it.” “That’s what I thought. And what about the other one? What’s her name?” Whimper gulped, staring at the dummy. “Scootaloo.” “What if somepony decided to hurt her? Would you just let that happen? What kind of a friend lets a friend get hurt?” Blackness. A woosh, a bang, a scrape, another bang. That’s all the boy caught. By the time Whimper had landed from his jump kick, he realised what he’d done, and residual sensations of muscle tension told him how much he’d moved. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… this is why I can’t get angry: it’s dangerous.” Blazing grinned and nodded. “Yes, you certainly are. Oh, I think this style will suit you just fine, Doldrum Whimper.” “I don’t.” “But look at what you can do.” Blazing nodded towards the dummy as his magic propped it back upright. “You have so much potential, but you lack confidence, and that’s poisoning you. You are better than the ponies who pick on you.” “I-I don’t…” Blazing sighed at the boy, though his smile never faded. “Look, I get it, Whimper, truly I do. This arrangement is as awkward for me as it is for you, and I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But this is how things are now, and we can make the most of it. It doesn’t have to be awkward. Buster only wants you to take three lessons with me. He probably thinks you’ll be cowed into submission. I think you’re better than that. I think you’re worth proper instruction. Let Buster get his say in, I’ll tell him you have perfect control over your aggression and he just needs to stop provoking you. Your principal will stop seeing you as a burden and start seeing you for the asset you are. I can speak for you, and with your talent, I’ll do so gladly. But I can’t do any of that if you do not provide me with proof that you are worth the effort. I know you are, you just need to start showing it. So say it, Whimper. It helps, really. You are too caught in your role as a victim to be anything else. If you can just say it to yourself, you’ll feel so much better, I promise. Confidence is the most important quality for a Feather Cloak ninja.” “Okay, I’m better.” The stallion held his head high and pushed out his chest, then motioned for Whimper to do the same. “You are a strong disciple of the Feather Cloak School.” Whimper winced. “But I haven’t signed up. I just don’t want Coach Buster to get me in trouble.” “He won’t. Just say it.” “But I don’t want to sign up, please.” “I know, I understand. That’s not what I’m trying to do here. I’m trying to get some confidence into that little head of yours. You’re going to have to get that in there sometime. It’s a mantra. You know what a mantra is, don’t you? You’ve had the, err… mandatory therapy sessions in school? They still do that for cases like you, right?” he asked carefully. “Yes, sir. It didn’t help all that much.” “Oh, I don’t know. I think it may have prepared you better than you think. So say it, regardless, see how it feels. I won’t force you to sign up, but if you are to complete these lessons, as Buster requested, you will need to at least play along. So say it: I am a strong disciple of the Feather Cloak School.” Whimper sighed and took the pose, just like his master. “I am a strong disciple of the Feather Cloak School.” “I’m better than the ponies in my class.” Whimper gulped as the training dummy was moved towards him again. A vague glow of magic behind it told him this time the thing would be held back properly. “I am better than the ponies in my class.” “I can beat anyone who talks down to me.” Whimper growled. “I can beat anyone who talks down to me.” Blazing knocked the top of the dummy and nodded towards it. “Anyone.” Whimper took a deep breath and got on his hind hooves. “Anyone.” He struck. Rumble sat there, wide-eyed. “Wow. Seriously? That’s how they boost your confidence?” Whimper nodded, still staring at the ground. “Seriously.” “That sounds pretty intense,” Scootaloo said. “Uhuh. Turns out the ninja schools use the same technique as rune pages and all that other hypnotherapy I got: stuff you’re supposed to picture when you’re relaxed, or not really awake. It’s supposed to teach you how to put your emotions into the moves. Feather Cloak ninjas teach you to be confident,” Whimper said. “And a bully,” Peachy Pie remarked. “And did it work? Did you feel more confident? Do you feel better now?” Scootaloo asked. Whimper smiled absently. “Uhuh. I feel a lot better, like I could do anything. It’s pretty neat. But it’s scary, too.” “So do you want to join that school, then?” Rumble asked. “I don’t know. It’s so weird, but it feels nice. Maybe I should, I mean, Buster made me take the classes, but Blazing understands what it’s like.” He almost looked sad then. “I’ve never had a teacher who really understood me that way. I kinda like it. I mean, even Rainbow Dash never taught me this sort of stuff. I haven’t signed up officially yet, but if I did, it’d solve a lot of problems. And who knows, I might make some more friends.” His smile was wide, but his eyes looked misty. “It’d be nice to make friends with a real martial arts pony, someone who can show me what the books are talking about. I don’t think I’m going to find any friends like that just hanging out around the parks. What do you think, Peachy Pie?” Peachy Pie scoffed. “Are you kidding? I think it’s a horrible idea. They’re just gonna try to make you angry all the time, and make you fight kids smaller than you in some contest. They wanna milk you for trophies, and you know it.” “Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Scootaloo said. “Really?” Whimper asked. “Sure. You do still have kind of an issue letting ponies walk all over you, and you do need to work on controlling your anger. Blazing’s right: if ponies stop pushing you, if you can put your hoof down when you have to, you wouldn’t have to snap at them and get out of control. So what if they want you to win some trophies? That’s what all the other kids around here do, right? You can’t keep holding all of this back, Wimpie.” She walked up and playfully slapped him on those big, muscular shoulders of his. For a second, something clicked in Whimper’s brain. The hint of sadness, and his doubts, crept away, it seemed. He wiped his eyes and chuckled. “Maybe. But what if it’s not the right school for me? I mean, I wouldn’t want to get tied down to something I don’t like. I’d go nuts.” “Well, what did the teacher say? What did Buster say?” “He said I have to take at least three lessons for introduction. That’s enough so they won’t mention it to the officials. I won’t get kicked out of school if I just take those three lessons. So… I guess maybe I can go to the second and third class, at least. The next one’s in three days. That’ll be with other kids there.” Scootaloo smiled. “There you go, you can make some more friends there. Just show up and learn how to stick up for yourself. That’s all you have to do. What’s the worst that could happen?” Rumble and Peachy Pie exchanged a worried glance. Things were much the same after lunch. Rumble couldn’t put his heart into his strikes, which made them feeble, while Scootaloo couldn’t aim hers, which made them random and ineffective. Apple Bloom had gotten the hang of it easily enough, and she had no trouble giving Rumble a few knocks on the soft spots. It was an awkward thing to do for her, though, like she wasn’t built for that style of combat, which fit what Ash had said. Sweetie Belle had an easier time sparring with Moongazer, even though she didn’t feel like she was doing much. Moongazer assured her that the girl’s technique was good, just not in harmony. Sweetie Belle, much like Apple Bloom, was simply out of her element. Spike, finally, got to spar with Scootaloo, and he made full use of his claws as he went. He was jumpy, though, and Ash had to tell him to slow down several times, as the style he was practising relied on swiftness, not quickness. There was a difference, apparently. When they’d gone another half hour of poses and proper striking techniques and mental images, Ash sighed and called the kids to stop. “Okay, Rumble, Scootaloo, front and center, please.” The two pegasi faced each other again. Neither one was looking forward to this. “Rumble, let’s start with you. What are you doing wrong, you think?” Rumble rolled his eyes. “I haven’t got the right attitude, sir. I need to stand firm and proud while I’m punching, and I’m too scattered.” “Okay, so you do understand the problem. Next question: do you know what a paladin is?” “Err… you mean the history one or the fantasy one?” Ash chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. Either one, explain it to the class.” Rumble turned, somewhat awkwardly. “Umm, a paladin is-” “Look at the others, Rumble. Don’t turn away your eyes. Look behind them if you have to,” Ash said. “Stand up a little straighter, too, and take a quick breath if you need to steady yourself. Remember, attitude matters for a ninja. Act natural.” Rumble did, and went ahead with his explanation. “A paladin is like a holy knight. It’s basically a wizard, only instead of using his own magic, he uses magic from something else, usually the sun. They’re what you play in games when you want a character that can use magic, but isn’t a unicorn. They all wear golden armour, and their helmets have white tufts of hair on them for some reason. They’re usually really strict about codes of honour, too.” “Good answer,” Ash said. “Now, the paladins in the fantasy games are based on actual knights from back in the olden days. They really did have their codes of honour and a kind of magic that any pony can use. They were also very close to royalty. That’s where they got their name: Paladino Hill, where Canterlot Palace is. And the hill was named after the ponies who lived there: paladinos, all golden coats and white manes. That’s where the funny armour comes from. But, Rumble, in the fantasy games, that you know of, what kind of magic do paladins usually use?” Rumble scratched his head, thinking. “Well, I think it’s mostly Holy Strike kinda stuff. They put burning energy into a sword, and then they’ve got different ways to hit. I don’t think unicorns do that nowadays, though.” Ash nodded. “Not a lot, but a few, still. What else? Just that?” “Well, that and Lay on Hooves. Healing touch, I guess. Why is that important?” “If you can’t see that yet, you’re not gonna see it with me explainin’ it. Girls, Rumble’s gonna need a volunteer for this. Anypony up for it?” Apple Bloom didn’t need that long to figure it out. She raised her hoof right when the bit dropped. “I’m game.” Ash smiled. “Good. Sit in front of Rumble, please, with your back to him. Rumble, how’s your massaging skills?” Rumble quirked an eyebrow. “Umm…” Apple Bloom got her mane out of the way, so her back was completely bared for the boy. “You can just put your hooves on my shoulders and knead a little, if you like.” “I don’t understand,” Rumble said. Ash nodded towards Apple Bloom. “Right now, you have trouble putting your energy into your blows. You can’t put the proper aggression into it. For a Water Style fighter like you, that’s a serious handicap. And since just practisin’ ain’t getting you up to speed fast enough, you need to practise putting a different kind of emotion into a touch. So, Rumble, if you please, use your skill in clear sight to spot any nerve points that need attention, and heal little Apple Bloom there.” “Umm, okay.” Rumble sat down and awkwardly started kneading at the girl’s shoulders. “Ow, hey, not so rough, fella.” “Try to clear your mind, Rumble,” Moongazer said. “If you really have that much trouble picturing a personal victory, picture affection. Think about a time you hugged someone you cared about, and put that sensation into your hooves. Then push it past your hooves and into the nerve points.” “Umm, okay, I’ll try.” Apple Bloom smirked to herself. There she was, with the coolest boy in school, getting a massage from him. She’d never admit it to his face, but she rather liked Rumble. In fact, if he didn’t hang out with Scootaloo as much as he did, she’d have invited him over to the farm a few times, maybe even make him an honorary Cutie Mark Crusader, like a Cutie Mark Paladin or something. Her thoughts wandered as the boy stroked and kneaded. Then, like a switch, her whole body went limp. “Whoa.” “There you go, Rumble, now you’re getting it.” Rumble chuckled nervously. “For real? That’s good?” “Yuh-yeah, keep goin’.” She felt a warmth flow into her shoulders, turning her arms to jelly. “Good, Rumble,” Ash said. “That’s how it’s done. Now, we ain’t gonna have time today to let you rehearse, but what you’re doin’ right now is no different from what you need to do in a fight: use your sight, find the nerve points, and use your intent like a needle. Or, the way you usually move, more like a knife, I guess. If you really can’t use anger for it, try to be neutral and numb the points.” “Like this?” Rumble pushed the tip of his hoof on Apple Bloom’s left shoulder. “Yow!” An electric jolt went through her right arm, numbing it from elbow to hooftip. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” He quickly tried to rub the feeling back into it. Apple Bloom wriggled that arm once she could feel through it again. “That’s okay, but, err… you owe me another backrub for that, Rumble.” Ash rolled his eyes. “That’s one problem area covered. Now, Scootaloo, your turn.” Scootaloo groaned. “I have to learn this mushy massaging stuff, too?” “If you want to progress past your current skill level, yes. In fact, if it wasn’t for you two having trouble, you’d only learn healing as an advanced skill, not in this beginner’s course. But if you want to stay stuck not being able to target pressure points…” That’s all the encouragement she needed. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it! Who’s gonna volunteer?” Scootaloo looked to Rumble, who looked away politely but awkwardly. Apple Bloom pretended to rub at a soreness in her now fine and very relaxed left shoulder to fake a pain. Sweetie Belle gulped in fear. Spike grunted. “You can practise on me. You can’t hurt me through dragon skin, anyways.” The dragon plopped his rump down in front of Scootaloo, who promptly went to work. Moongazer rolled her eyes. “Now, Scootaloo, you have the projection skills down already, but your aim is off, so whatever you do-” “Yow!” Spike jumped up. “What was that?” “I thought you said I couldn’t hurt you through dragon skin?” “That’s a common misconception, actually,” Ash remarked. “Energy punches and paladin magic are some of the few things that do work on dragons.” “Oh. Sorry.” “What Moongazer was trying to say, Scootaloo, is: whatever you do, don’t think angry thoughts while you’re projectin’. You can’t do that much damage in combat yet, but when you’re tryin’ to heal, the target isn’t moving, and they will get that scattered energy in them, regardless,” Ash explained. “It’s not diluted like it is in combat, so be careful what you put into your touch. You gotta try to get a relaxed concentration. Feel it out.” Scootaloo groaned and started kneading at Spike’s shoulders again. “Anything?” “Nothing,” Spike said. “Okay, Scootaloo, since you’re not one for mushy stuff, try thinking of a time when you ate something you liked. That’s a happy thought, and something you can hold onto easy enough.” Scootaloo closed her eyes and did just that: picture a warm, sweet apple pie. “Okay, now it’s warm,” Spike said. “Is it working?” “No, it’s only my scales you’re warming up.” “Feel it out, Scootaloo. Concentrate on your hooves, not your eyes. Look for the spots on Spike that are hurt. After today’s practice, there oughtta be a couple,” the Shadowbolt said. She let her hooves trail over Spike’s surprisingly soft back, circling around a spot near his ribs. “Like here?” “Ow,” Spike said. “Yeah, that’s warming up now. That’s… that feels a lot better, actually.” “Is this right, then? That sort of mushy stuff?” Scootaloo asked. Ash nodded. “Sort of, but try to get the vision now. Relax your hooves, feel the blue go into it, and feel it out.” Scootaloo sighed and squinted. “Don’t try harder, Scootaloo,” Ash said. “Relax into it. Tell me what you feel.” “Umm, there’s red around him, mostly. Lots of little dots, I guess?” “Yes, and where are the injured points?” “Right… here?” Spike tensed when she prodded him on the neck, then went a little mellow. “Yeah, that’s the spot.” “Good job, Scootaloo. Now take your hooves off him.” “What?” “Try to use only your eyes next. Keep the good feeling, keep in mind that you have to push past the surface, but don’t rely on your hooves to feel it out. A real fighter ain’t gonna give you that time. And while I’d love to show you the secret Nine Dragons ninja technique that lets you see with your hooves, we ain’t got time to get you up to that level.” Scootaloo sighed. “Umm, Spike, just a heads-up: I might miss by a little.”