//------------------------------// // A New Threat Rises! The Power of the Feather Cloaks! // Story: Ponyville's First Warrior Meet // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// Sugarcube Corner had acquired a different smell the past few days. Where before, the aromas of sweet buns and hot cakes dominated the place, with the Warrior Meet in town it now smelled as sweaty as the dojos and parks that the ponies trained in. The place was close to the recreational centres of Ponyville, after all, and most ponies preferred not to have to make a long trek home for lunch, especially if it was in between sessions of beating up other ponies. Nothing the occasional spritz of lavender spray couldn’t conceal. The Ponyville Junior Ninjas took full advantage of the new ‘Warrior Specials’ the Cakes had put on offer, all taking some heavy protein buns and sugary milkshakes to stock up on energy. “So, Scootaloo, does your friend Wimpy know about the Challenger’s Circle yet?” Scootaloo groaned at that. “How many times do I have to tell you? His name’s not Wimpy.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Are ya gonna bring him over or not?” “No.” “Why not?” “Because, well, it’d be weird, okay? I just don’t think now’s the right time for it, especially not with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon around, not to mention that alicorn kid.” Sweetie Belle was lost in thought with all this talk about old friends meeting new ones. Her ears perked. “What alicorn kid?” “Some colt runnin’ around in alicorn armour,” Apple Bloom replied. “He’s pretty nice, actually. He said something was wrong with his cutie mark, but maybe he just got it in an accident. I think he might be coverin’ up scars or somethin’.” The little unicorn winced. “Scars? Oh, my. And what about Diamond Tiara? She’s not going to be there this Sunday, is she?” “No, not Diamond, but Silver Spoon is,” Apple Bloom said. “What for?” Rumble asked. “Silver Spoon’s not a martial artist.” “Actually, turns out she is,” Apple Bloom replied. “Her daddy’s some sorta demon huntin’ pony, if you can believe it.” Spike nearly choked on his milkshake, hearing that. “Wait. Silver Spoon is related to a Demon Hunter? You didn’t catch his name, did you?” “Umm, no? Why?” “Because if it is who I think it is, we might wanna not go for the challenger’s circle on Sunday.” He thought it over for a second. “Or go to school on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or any day of the week. Good thing I don’t go to school, now that I think about it.” “What are you talking about?” Rumble asked. “I’m just saying, back in Canterlot, I hung out with a couple of Royal Guards, and they were pretty strong. But the Demon Hunters, they’re in a totally different league. They’re, like grandmasters at that Water Style thing. They make it so you see their energy, it’s all silvery, or quicksilvery stuff. If they touch you with that, it’s like… magic poison. They’ve got a real Touch of Death combo and everything.” “So? What does that have to do with Silver Spoon?” Rumble asked. “So, the guy who teaches the other Royal Guards how to do that Touch of Death thingie is called Silver Bullet.” Scootaloo shivered. “That’s her dad. That’s what Hammer said. So… Silver Spoon… she actually knows how to do that Touch of Death thingie? The stuff me and Rumble are learning, only worse?” Spike shrugged. “I think so. I’ve seen them do it, it’s not pretty. That kinda magic is dangerous, and you don’t have to be a unicorn to do it. They can hit your stomach, or your lungs or even your heart just by brushing past you, and since you can’t train your internal organs to take a hit from that… well, I wouldn’t wanna get on their bad side.” Apple Bloom furrowed her brow. “You’re sure it’s that dangerous?” “Positive. Demon Hunters are scary, and Silver Bullet even fought a water devil a couple of times.” “What does it matter?” Scootaloo asked. “Let Silver Spoon go to the circle, if she really wants to fight some other kids. It’s nothing serious, why should we care?” Sweetie Belle winced. “Umm, there is one thing you might be forgetting, Scootaloo.” “What?” “Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon both have a good reason to be mad at us. We did kinda end up chasing them out of their own party.” Apple Bloom nodded. “Yeah, there is that.” “What are you talking about?” Scootaloo asked. “They’re the ones picking on us, not the other way around.” “No, but when we stood up for ourselves at Diamond’s cuteceñeara, they just left the party. And it was still, technically, their party, their big day,” Apple Bloom said. “I don’t think we ever apologised for that, like proper.” “But we don’t have anything to apologise for.” “Come on, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said. “Two wrongs don’t make a right. When we get our cutie marks and we throw a cuteceñeara, we wouldn’t wanna be embarrassed then. Maybe we should just apologise. I wouldn’t want to fight Silver Spoon for real if she has a grudge against us.” “Me neither,” Apple Bloom said. “We’re doin’ this for fun, and that alicorn kid’s got enough of a grudge against her school as it is, I think. We shouldn’t get involved in that.” “Feather Cloaks,” Scootaloo said. “What?” Apple Bloom looked at her pegasus friend. “Her school. She said it’s called the Feather Cloaks. And they don’t do apologies.” “How would you know?” Like clockwork, Scootaloo and Rumble showed up a week later, after Whimper’s second class as a Feather Cloak. Something had changed about him, like the air around his fur was colder, somehow. Rumble felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as the buff colt pranced up to them. Peachy Pie didn’t seem to take much notice. “Hey, Whimper. What’s up?” Scootaloo greeted. “Oh, you know, the usual.” He smiled brightly, much more so than he ever did at Flight Camp. He was positively glowing today. “What’s the plan for today?” “Whimper’s learned a new move,” Peachy Pie said. “From the Feather Cloaks?” Scootaloo asked. Whimper nodded, with a smirk that was decidedly uncharacteristic for him. Almost creepy, even. “Sort of. Something they teach, something I’ve been trying on my own, it’s kind of a mix. It’s really easy, but you have to know the trick for it.” “Well, what is it?” Rumble asked. “An eye trick. It lets you see the little points where you can hit a pony, but on the inside. You can run your magic into them, but you have to aim it just right.” Rumble furrowed his brow. “You mean like healing magic? I’ve heard of that.” “Well, yeah, you could use it to heal if you wanted to, but turns out the Feather Cloaks use that, too, for something way cooler.” “And that cool thing is…” “Mercurial Hoof, The Ninja Death Touch.” He smirked at his friends. “Even the other Feather Cloaks don’t know how to do this yet. Master Blazing said I was a natural, said I should show it off. Wanna go try it? The park’s clear today.” “Won’t Coach Buster be there again?” Peachy asked. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s okay. Coach Buster’s not gonna bother us this time.” Whimper patted her on the back with a wing. Scootaloo’s heart skipped a beat. This was great: her friend had finally found his confidence. He was talking, on his own, speaking his mind. No more worrying about that thing with the water devil, no more letting ponies walk all over him, she could bring him over to Ponyville if he was like this. He nodded towards the park in the distance. “Come on, we’ll find a spot and I’ll show you the trick for it.” “Hello? Ground control to Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom waved a hoof in front of the girl’s face. “Huh, what?” “How do you know what a Feather Cloak is like?” Scootaloo bit her lip and looked to Rumble. Rumble shrugged. Scootaloo sighed. “Well, Whimper kinda got into that school, too.” “Uhuh. And is that why you went so quiet all of a sudden?” “It’s nothing. Just having a flashback,” Scootaloo replied. “Was it plot-relevant?” Apple Bloom asked. “What?” “Consarnit, Scootaloo, you know what I mean! Do you think it might help us get a cutie mark?” “Err… no? Maybe, I don’t know.” “Well, if your friend’s in the same school as Silver Spoon, that’s good, right?” Sweetie Belle said. “He’d probably know her, too, and that’d make it easier to make friends with her and Diamond Tiara.” “I don’t know, Sweetie Belle,” Rumble said. “Feather Cloaks are kinda, you know, different. They’re a branch of ninja, like Nine Dragons.” “So?” “So, they don’t have the same rules other schools do. They train to be brutal. They use their own Death Touch thingie, too, and they practise getting mad to do it.” Rumble shivered. “All the more reason why we should apologise for what happened at the cuteceñeara,” Apple Bloom said. “It doesn’t feel right otherwise. We can’t go fightin’ a classmate if they’re angry at us, like really angry. One of us might do somethin’ they’ll regret.” Scootaloo groaned. “You’re wrong.” “Why? Why don’t you want to apologise?” “Because we didn’t do anything wrong, that’s why. They picked on us, they still pick on us, and now we’re supposed to apologise? How is that fair?” Sweetie Belle sighed. “It’s either gonna be us or them who apologise. And I don’t think anything can make them apologise first.” Scootaloo groaned again. “What do you think, Rumble? You know Wimpy just as well as Scootaloo, you’ve seen other Feather Cloaks, right?” Rumble fidgeted in his seat. “Yeah, kinda, I guess?” “Well, what do you think we should do?” Rumble pouted and turned to Scootaloo. He took his time to think it through. “I think you definitely don’t want to get on the bad side of a Feather Cloak, unless you think you can beat them. They’ve got a lot of dirty tricks. Even at the basics, they can make it so the air around them feels like it burns, like acid. That Death Touch, Mercurial Hoof, isn’t something you wanna mess with. If Silver Spoon decides to challenge any of us and she’s still mad about what you did, if she is just a Feather Cloak, she could cause some serious damage. And if her dad is such a big shot and she knows even more than the regular ones...” He shuddered. “Then it’s settled. We’re gonna go over to Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon and we’re gonna apologise. We start from a clean slate, so there’s no grief when we do the challenger’s circle on Sunday. Cutie Mark Crusaders, y’all agree?” Sweetie Belle nodded. “Agreed.” Scootaloo looked away and pouted. “Agreed, I guess.” “Are you sure you’re okay, Scootaloo? You look kinda out of it,” the little Earth pony said. “Sure I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Scootaloo grunted as she tried to do the Death Touch, poking and prodding Whimper’s hard abs with no real result. “How are you supposed to see what to aim for?” Whimper chuckled at the harmless pokes. “Like I said, you have to relax your eyes. It’s like seeing in the dark.” “But you can’t see in the dark, Whimper, ‘coz it’s dark,” Scootaloo remarked. “Well, I can. Maybe you’re just not doing it right. It’s like this.” Whimper playfully stroked a hoof along her side. A gentle stroke from him was enough. She felt the cold bit of acidic magic liquid slip in through her skin, causing a cold that wrapped itself around a part of her gut and squeezed. “Ow! That hurt!” “Psh, I didn’t even hit you that hard. Come on, don’t be such a wuss. Try me again.” Rumble’s ears perked. His body tensed at the sight of Scootaloo wincing in pain. “Hey, can I try, too?” Whimper smiled. “Sure, once Scootaloo’s done. Come on, try again.” Scootaloo took a pose like she’d seen Whimper go in, and half-heartedly slapped him in the belly again. Whimper snickered. “Not like that, silly. Like this.” Scootaloo’s mouth hung open once she realised she’d been hit again. The back of his hoof rested on her belly, and there was a pulsing in her muscles that just felt wrong all over. He barely touched her. She didn’t even feel the contact at first, but then it was like he’d reached into her body and crossed a few wires, or switched some things off. She froze. It was agony, pure and unfiltered agony. Something was bleeding inside, but she didn’t feel faint. Her stomach throbbed, something she didn’t even think was possible. “O-okay, I can’t do that anymore.” Rumble walked up to her. “Scootaloo, are you okay?” Peachy Pie got up as well. “I think you were a little too rough, Whimper.” Whimper groaned. “Come on, I barely touched her.” Scootaloo winced and found the cold, numbing sensation spreading, paralysing her right arm. “Wuh-Whimper? Do you think maybe you could undo what you just did?” “What for? You’re fine.” Peachy Pie crouched down next to Scootaloo before looking up at him. “I don’t think she’s fine, Whimper.” “Oh, walk it off, chickenwing.” Scootaloo’s heart sank. She barely had the presence of mind to look up at him through the pain. “W-what did you call me?” “You heard me. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted me to be tough, you wanted me to speak up and do what I wanna do. Well, I did, and now you’re complaining? Make up your mind already.” “C-come on, Whimper, I’m just a little hurt, okay? You got me.” Whimper growled. “Yeah, I got you. Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but I can get you pretty easily. And yet every time I’m with you, I’m the one following you instead of the other way around. You’re weaker than me, and you tell me I’m not confident enough, that I’m not strong enough. I don’t have to take that from you. Why do I even hang out with you?” “You don’t want us to keep coming over?” Rumble asked. He pouted and looked the boy in the eyes. “That’s not what I meant, Rumble. You and Peachy Pie are my friends.” When Whimper turned to look at her, Scootaloo felt her stomach clench. His eyes, his golden eyes, were burning with power, making the cold agony in her body intensify. It’s what she imagined Fluttershy’s Stare was like. “But you, Scootaloo? What are you supposed to be?” Scootaloo’s eyes started to water as she barely managed to stand up. “Is this you talking, Whimper, or is it that Feather Cloak teacher?” “Don’t try to change the subject, Scootaloo.” “But… is it?” Whimper kept up his pout and huffed. “A couple of Feather Cloaks gave me some stuff to think about, about you, I mean. Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.” Peachy Pie gave the boy a firm poke in his belly. “Snap out of it, Whimper, this isn’t like you. Come on, you’re not seriously saying you don’t want Scootaloo around, are you?” Even without the benefit of whatever eye trick he’d tried to teach her, Scootaloo saw the change in the air around him. “W-well… it’s just that she’s getting me in trouble all the time and she made me look like a fool at Flight Camp and…” “That’s no excuse,” Peachy said. “You know she doesn’t mean it like that.” Whimper gulped and looked at Scootaloo again. “What did they say to you, exactly?” she asked. Whimper sighed as he entered the Feather Cloak dojo the second time. He felt so naked, having to look up at all the other kids in their canvas pajamas. “What’s the matter, kid?” one of the students asked. “Nothing,” Whimper replied, taking his place amongst the teenagers and looking up at them. “Just, umm, it’s kinda weird being the youngest here and all.” “Oh, that,” Blazing Trail said as he passed the class by. “We have a buddy system for kids your age, in case they have bully troubles. We like to keep the youngest ones separated from each other at first, makes it easier to build their self esteem and attitude. Speaking of which, have you been practising this past week, Whimper?” Whimper nodded. “Yes, sir.” Blazing Trail nodded towards the centre of the ring and got out the training dummy again with his magic. “Show me.” Whimper took a deep breath to steady himself and walked up to the thing, then got on his hind hooves and struck a defensive pose. With barely a second thought, he jabbed the dummy in the chest with his left hoof. The thing wobbled and shook with the dull ‘thud’, but didn’t break or go flying like last time. “Not bad,” Blazing said. “Keep going.” The boy struck again, in exactly the same place, with exactly the same force behind it. “Hmm?” Blazing’s ears perked. Whimper kept on punching, same exact area, same force. The motion was almost mechanical, programmed into him. “Okay, you’ve obviously got the outer form down. Now get angry and punch for real.” Whimper snorted and took a step forward, then punched with his right, his whole body weight behind it. The training dummy was driven back, but not into a wall like before. “Okay, class, before we start warming up, who can tell me what Whimper is doing wrong?” The eyes of the older kids bored into him. He could feel their judgement already: pity, mostly. And yet, he caught hints of familiarity, too. Some of the older girls, two unicorns and an Earth pony, were feeling downright protective of him, like they would a pet, at least that’s how he felt it. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation to the boy, but after that little incident at Flight Camp he had to wonder how much of his experience was in his head and how much was based on reality. “He’s too meek, sir,” One of the girls said. Again that remark. “Told you, Whimper,” Blazing said. “You’ve gotta stand proud. Let no one break your composure, be firm, unyielding. You’ll be joining a regular class with us today, so watch what the others are doing and follow their lead. Now, everyone: three laps around the dojo.” Whimper’s ears fell flat. “Umm, sir? But my breathing problem…” “Won’t be a problem as long as you can manage a confident and strong attitude. You did just fine last week, you can do this again. Focus on success and failure will be impossible. This isn’t your usual class, Whimper. Ponies here will not laugh or try to break your composure, like Buster likes to do. Isn’t that right, class?” Whimper looked back, and felt a wave of pride wash over him from the rest of class. Here and there, twinges of that familiarity came up again. Maybe two or three out of the dozen teenagers had conditions as bad as him. Maybe even half of them did. None of them shared his other condition, though, he could tell that much. Even Blazing Trail hadn’t shown any of the signs Whimper had learned to look for, or noticed them in the boy, for that matter. “No, sir,” they all called. “Good. So now, Whimper, you are going to run, slowly at first so your body can harmonise with your newfound power, and then fast, like us.” Warming up went by in a blur for Whimper. His heart was pounding, his chest ached, and his lungs wheezed, but he was still going. He wasn’t crippled anymore. He could breathe. He wasn’t used to running, sure, but he could do it now. He was light-headed with excitement when he was asked to spar with one of the girls, so much so he barely registered her name, or her surprise when he let off one hard thud after the other, keeping the girl on her guard. Light green with dark purple eyes and what looked like shooting stars for a cutie mark, she didn’t seem like the fighting type. If anything, the way her ocean green mane was so neatly cut suggested she was more into Canterlot high society than Bogsdown brawling clubs. “Whoa, tough guy, slow down there for a second, we’re only warming up.” “Huh?” Whimper shook his head and stopped. “Sorry, I think I kinda zoned out from running.” “That’s normal for your condition,” Blazing remarked. “How are you feeling?” “Strong, fast,” Whimper said, sighing happily. He had a smirk on his face that he didn’t remember creeping up there. It was this place, or the crowd. Princess Luna had warned him he’d be more sensitive to crowds. Now there he was, in the middle of a herd of martial artists whose strength came from radiating confidence and superiority. To his surprise and horror, he wasn’t sure if he liked it or if he was picking up on how much they liked it. “Good. Hold on to that feeling while you do the basic motions,” the grandmaster said. “Do the routine another ten times, and Starfall?” The unicorn girl’s ears perked. “Yes, sir?” “Don’t go easy on him. He probably won’t, either.” “Wait, what? No, go easy, I don’t know how to do this.” “Don’t talk like that, Whimper,” Blazing said, slapping him on the shoulders. “Keep your guard up, and stand firm. You’re a strong Feather Cloak ninja.” “But I still haven’t decided yet.” “Just say it anyway. It’ll help you maintain your strength.” Whimper coughed, and the wheeze was starting to catch up to him. He gritted his teeth. “I am a strong Feather Cloak ninja.” “Good. Now go.” Whimper rubbed his throbbing head when he came to his senses. His muscles quivered from tensing up and channeling anger like he had to, but that was nothing compared to his sparring partner. Starfall was wincing, and rubbing her arms. She wobbled on her hooves. “Wow, you pack a mean wallop for such a little guy, you know that?” He looked around. How long had he been out? Had anypony even noticed? He was still in the Feather Cloak dojo. He’d been sparring, no problems, no one had gotten hurt this time. That was new. Usually when he woke up like this, someone was crying, and someone else was yelling. Here, it was like nothing had happened. Class was slowing down with their katas, Blazing Trail just went over to each pair and inspected them for any flaws. He couldn’t remember if Blazing had said anything to him, if there had been any remarks. He felt at ease, letting go and just fighting, just hurting someone. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know my own strength,” Whimper coughed again. Starfall smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t be. You’re good at this, I just need to try harder. You’re almost as strong as our number one rookie, you know. Stand tall, it helps. Eagle’s Grasp, right?” Whimper nodded. “Well, you’ll fit right in here, then. A couple of members in our Manehattan branch have the same thing.” She leaned in to look him in the eyes, before letting her hoof trail lower. “You really can get over it, you know. Just focus. Don’t let the bad feelings in. You’ll be fine, I promise.” Again, he nodded, smiling when he felt the unicorn girl’s comforting touch on his back. Just reaching out inside himself, finding that confidence, that strength, it felt so good to just let himself stop worrying, stop thinking, to let himself slip… “Okay, class, now on to the main event: hitting auras. Starfall, if you’d please explain the concept to the new boy?” Whimper snapped out of his reverie. He still felt his confidence, but he was aware now. Again, a new experience. “What?” Starfall rolled her eyes. “Basically, every living thing’s got this glow to them. It’s like part of your body, except it’s only the part made up of light or energy. If you can damage it, you can hurt ponies just by touching them. Like, internal organ damage, really nasty stuff.” Whimper thought it over. “So we’re going to learn Death Touch now?” Blazing cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, actually. The purpose is to channel dominance throughout your whole body, like before, but instead of just relying on your glamour to intimidate the opponent, you concentrate it into a more effective form, into a killer intent, and push it through your opponent. The effect is like punching a flame: hit it hard enough and the flame goes out.” Whimper gulped and lowered his voice to a whisper. “That sounds dangerous.” “It is,” Starfall replied. “But unless you know what points to hit, it’s really hard to do good damage with it. You need to focus it enough so it feels like liquid, otherwise it can’t move. Then you have to make that into a pinprick to really hurt someone. If you don’t, you have to brute-force it to get the same effect. We just picture flames around our hooves, or acid; it’s more blunt, but it works. You can afford to miss by a little, you just need to burn more power for it.” Blazing nodded. “Exactly. So first, we’re going to practise putting the right attitude in our striking hooves. Then assume the position and strike. Hiyah!” “Hiyah!” the class shouted. “Yah?” Whimper tried to copy the motion. “Harder, Whimper, and louder. Get angry again, that’s how this works. Hiyah!” “Hiyah!” Whimper shivered. His head fogged over again. He hoped he wasn’t going to zone out, or even lose consciousness. He was close, though, and getting closer with every punch. Still, he had to follow along with the class, or Coach Buster would get him in trouble. “Hiyah!” “Angrier, Whimper. Think back to all the times you got put down, think back to the times you wanted to fight back, but you couldn’t. Think about Buster, if that helps. Now strike! Hiyah!” He struck harder. “Hiyah!” Something bubbled in his belly. A cold hate that swirled and churned, looking for a way out. It was power, and with a simple force of will he guided it along with his breath, letting it wrap around his hooves. He pulled back along with the rest of class. “Hiyah!” The cold erupted from his strike. Something snapped in the boy, and the bubbling in his gut sent gouts of light up his spine and into his skull. He went blind as the light flooded his eyes, then he woke up somewhere else. He was back in the dark again, facing off against a monster. Something had its claws around his neck, and the skin of his back burned with the devil’s curse while those powerful muscles he’d worked so hard to get were cruelly crushed down with the same magic. Agony washed over his body, his lungs were on fire. And yet, somehow he got past it. All that outrage, that sense of despair, it came with an uncanny clarity. It gave his anger focus. He hung there, held by his throat, yet at peace. He wasn’t sure how long he blacked out, but evidently it wasn’t long enough for anyone to notice. If any light had come out of his eyes, he was the only one to notice. “Hiyah!” Blazing stopped and got back on all fours. The dozen other students followed suit, all staring at Whimper. The boy was still in his defensive pose, still trying to hold on his confident self. He looked down at the end of his extended arm. His hoof was glowing, like a unicorn’s horn. He could feel the power, his influence, a cold coating on his hooves. There was something else, though, a more solid shape just beyond the surface. “Well, class, now you know it’s not a trick when I make my own aura visible. Quite a rare skill, Whimper, certainly for your age. But considering your cutie mark and being a pegasus and all, not that big a surprise, I guess.” Whimper’s ears flattened against his head as he wiggled his hoof to put out what looked like a flame. “Umm, is this a good thing then, or a bad thing?” “Very good,” Blazing said. “Why wouldn’t it be?” “You just said it’s dangerous. I can hurt ponies with it.” Blazing chuckled. “Exactly. That’s the whole point of our school: to put power in the right hooves.” “But aren’t other ponies going to be scared of me, then?” “Sure, probably,” Starfall said. “But that’s a good thing. If they’re scared of you, they know to respect you.” He frowned. “But what if I don’t want them to be scared?” “Well, class, that’s a fair question Whimper’s got there. What do we do if we don’t want ponies to be scared of us?” One pegasus colt raised a hoof. “We show them the technique, sir.” “Exactly.” Whimper tried to weigh that in his head. It did not compute. “What?” Blazing shrugged. “The technique only works if you are confident, strong. You said you’ve been reading up on martial arts, so you must know ninja techniques come in two shapes: open and closed. Visible and hidden. External and internal. There’s no danger in showing off how it’s done, since even if you manage to teach somepony else how to do it, they won’t have your strength of mind. As long as you remain in control, as long as you and no one else assumes the role of an alpha, you can demonstrate your power without any competition or danger. What’s important is that you remain in charge, that you assert dominance.” “Even to my friends?” “Especially to your friends,” Blazing replied. “You can’t concede any power, to anyone. You sabotage yourself if you do, more than any bully would.” “But…” Whimper backed away and bit his lip. “Class, I think we’ve got a hard case here,” Blazing said. “We’re gonna have to get you out of that meek little shell, Whimper. You’re holding yourself back, still. In the meantime, six more strikes on the left, nine on the right. Hiyah!” Blazing wrapped his hoof in the blue shine of pegasus magic. It looked like his hoof was covered in a flame. On closer inspection, though, it wasn’t quite a flame, but feathers. That’s where they got the name. When their magic became strong enough to be visible, it would look like a feather: hard center to stab with, lots of little hairs that fell off as the magic dropped in strength. That couldn’t be too hard for him, if he was already this advanced. As one, the class moved, with Whimper the only one whose magic was showing. “Don’t worry, Whimper, we get kids like you all the time. We know how to fix you right up.” Starfall smiled down at him as they practised. “Really?” Starfall’s smile only grew. She had a look in her eyes that made his chest all fluttery inside. “Really really. Trust me, by the time class is over, you’ll be a strong little alpha male, just like you’re supposed to be.” Whimper was panting after all the drills, but the wheeze in his lungs was hardly noticeable now. It hurt, but it didn’t cripple him. If anything, he felt giddy. “Still got a little bit of tension in ya, huh?” Starfall joked. “A little.” Whimper tried to slow his breath down. “Don’t get too comfy, Whimper. Time for the final burst.” Blazing smirked. “Burst? Of what?” “Just a little training exercise we like to do to help build self-esteem and that good, strong attitude: circle fighting. This is how you become a real alpha. You’re up first,” Blazing replied, gesturing to the centre of the dojo. Whimper looked around and took his place. Everyone else in the class surrounded him and took a low stance, one arm extended and the other ready to strike. A cold shiver went through him. Their eyes almost glowed with contempt now, or hate. “What’s going on?” “The goal is simple: you will be attacked from all sides, for real. You’re going to get bullied, and beaten up. You will be surrounded by pure aggression, and if you continue to remain meek, you will be knocked down. You’re going to have to get angry, and strike back at those who strike you.” “Isn’t that a little extreme?” “Guard up, Wimpie.” One of the teen colts kicked him in the back, sending him to the floor. He reeled from the impact, rubbing the sore spot on his back. “H-hey, what…” “Get up,” Starfall said sternly, gesturing as she stood inches away from him. “Time to start fighting for real.” Whimper got back on his hind hooves, shakily. He moved into a defensive posture and scanned around. “Why are you doing this?” “So you’d know what to do when you have to.” Just like that, Starfall snapped at him with the back of a hoof, a curt slap in the face. “Come on, you little runt, fight back.” Another colt, another kick, this time a knee to his thighs. “You’re getting roughed up in there, Whimper,” Blazing said. “You’re gonna need a doctor at this rate.” “Stop it,” Whimper said, gritting his teeth. “Or what?” Starfall said. “What are you gonna do? You’re still too meek. You know exactly what you’re supposed to do and you’re not doing it. Look at you, you’ve got all that hard muscle and you can’t even fight back.” “She’s got a point there, Whimper. You did the class, they’re all nicely waiting their turn instead of mobbing you, you should be able to put up a fight now. So what’s keeping you?” Blazing asked. “I…” Another dull thud, this one to his stomach, made him double over in pain. His breath wasn’t cut off, though. Not yet. Blazing didn’t know what he was dealing with. He could fake it, maybe, the boy thought. If he pretended his breath was cut off, maybe they’d stop and he could go home. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this class, Coach Buster had made him. And Buster had no right to, not really. Whimper could just stay down. It wouldn’t make things worse for him. Blazing sighed. “It’s a real shame, you know, but if you’re too weak for it, you might as well just stay down. I’m sure if it ever gets to the point where you need to stick up for yourself, something will come around to save you, or your friends. Pity to waste that sort of talent, but, well, it happens. It’s your choice. I’m not going to make you get up. But they’re not going to stop knocking you down, either. Life isn’t going to stop knocking you down.” Whimper felt the contempt flow through him. His heart throbbed, his lungs burned. That coldness in his stomach bubbled up again. It wasn’t like his meditations, not this time. His little evening ritual of focusing his breath, forming that bright pearl of energy and letting it move through him, warming his insides, it was nothing like this. This wasn’t some namby-pamby visualisation exercise found in leaflets handed out by hippies at the annual Trader’s Market, or some ancient formula based on a nursery rhyme written by pudgy pandas who spent their days gazing at walls or their own bellies. This was raw power. He couldn’t find his centre, not like this. His consciousness fogged over. Something burned in his lower belly, and it made its way up his back into his neck. He tried to do like he’d been practising, to form the shape of a pearl, a moon, anything, but he couldn’t control it anymore. His concentration was shot. His body was struggling to take over. His eyes were on fire. Again. “What are you thinking, pony boy? I am a demon, I prey on civilisation itself. And you think you can fight me?” He was there again, hanging in the grip of a water devil. Claws dug into his neck, a curse burned his lungs and dragged his limbs down. The thing was feeding off his life passing before his eyes. Little flecks of memory, disappointment spiced with impotent rage, and seasoned with the occasional sprinkling of joy. His friend was down. He was defending her with his life. Someone who cheered him up and got him into new things. Not even that close a friend, not in the grand scheme of things. Just a friendly pony who helped him get through the day. It was just a necklace he was trying to get back. He didn’t have to do this. But he didn’t have a lot of friends to begin with. And if he didn’t do this, he might lose her. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he didn’t try, even if it meant he might die in the attempt. “Well?” Blazing asked. “Are you going to keep holding back?” Things were so confusing now. Something rushed up from the tip of his tail up his spine and into his skull, giving him a wave of vertigo. Looking down at where the ground was supposed to be, there was just an abyss. He didn’t even see the other ponies, or the dojo. He was gone. The floor underneath him had gone soft. He was on the high dive a Flight Camp. Third level, dangerously high to dive, even with the trick he knew. He tried to make the hallucination stop, but he only managed to do it halfway. He was with his dad, one of the few times he’d felt pride. He could smell his dad’s deodorant, it felt so real. Summer Breeze had spent the whole afternoon teaching his son how to do a Peregrine Dive: a landing that made for a perfect pounce, as well as the fastest and safest way to intercept a falling pony and catch them on your back. Well, safest for the other pony, if you knew your way around pegasus magic. The pegasus doing it risked shattering every bone in their legs if they didn’t have the proper training. Whimper was everywhere, his very self scattered. Something in his mind, possibly his soul, was mocking him. You don’t know what’s real; I do. You don’t have any power; I do. You’re never gonna be happy if this keeps up. But I will. Shut up. Please. You can’t shut me up; I’m you, you dumb runt. The only way you can beat me is by becoming me. It’s the only way you’ll ever beat anyone. You’re wrong. No, you are. You don’t own me. I own your breath, your heart, your body, everything that’s real about you. If one of us has to go, it’s you. Fine. What? Fine. You own this body? Then start taking better care of your things. “Finish it,” Blazing said. No more Mister Nice Guy. Whimper’s arm rose slowly and calmly, at least from his perspective. From that of his opponent, he was moving fast as a snake. And like a snake, he had a venomous bite to him. Whimper struck the colt in the gut, and let out a great flame of his magic, his aura, to eat its way through the pressure point and into the kidneys. It wasn’t that hard for him, not after the cloudbusting practice at Flight Camp and his own solitary attempts at learning martial arts. Just the next logical step in his development, nothing more. Another kid went for him. Whimper sidestepped and elbowed him in the ribs. That flame, that aura, it hung over him and moved with him. He could feel it empowering him, covering him. He could have made his enemy scream, but he didn’t feel like it. He didn’t like ponies screaming; too much noise. Better they suffer in silence, leave him in peace. They kept on coming, and they drove him farther and farther. Two at a time, he pummelled their ribs. Three at a time, he kicked one when his arms were occupied in blocking, then slammed the two at his sides back. He spun, he kicked, he shoved. Every move he made he was less aware of his body and more aware of the air around him. Like during the striking practice, he felt the energy around his hooves, only now it was all over. It hung over him like a cloak. With every move the cloak became harder, the energy more concentrated. Eventually he was stabbing with every strike, and crippling his assailants. When no more attacks came, Doldrum Whimper finally realised what he’d done, what he’d learned. He closed his eyes. The lesson had sunk in at last. “I am a strong ninja of the Feather Cloak school.” “Oh, I wouldn’t get ahead of myself, but yes, you’ve now mastered our central technique: you have developed your aura to the point you can use it in battle, and in record time, too. I have to admit, you certainly exceeded my every expectation, Whimper. You might even be able to handle the Seven Deadly Blows,” Blazing said. “How do you feel?” The boy looked down at himself. He wasn’t glowing blue like before, which struck him as odd, because he was sure he was supposed to. Even more odd, though, was the smile on his face. He was flustered, and exhaustion was catching up to him, but the adrenalin more than made up for it. He felt happy. He’d just beaten up twelve kids bigger than him, he’d snapped and possibly seriously injured ponies who might have been friends with him some day, and he was happy about it. “I feel great. Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Okay, Starfall, you’re next.” Whimper looked at the girl as she got up, wobbly on her hooves but still determined to keep going. Part of him felt he ought to feel sorry for her, but he didn’t. She’d attacked him, she’d wanted to test his strength. She got what she deserved. The rest got up, and he chuckled to himself. They weren’t even hurt. He’d done his worst, and no one cried. No one was down. No worries, no consequences. Whimper joined the others in the circle and reached out to his new sense of power, then pummeled the girl, just like a real Feather Cloak. “You punch pretty well for someone your age,” Starfall started as they left the dojo. “Thanks.” Whimper smiled broadly. “Are you sure you’re okay? You got pretty bruised up back there.” “So did you. That’s the point: that’s how you learn to toughen up and stand up for yourself. You can’t learn your way out of the bad place if you don’t walk in and explore it sometimes.” Whimper looked around. The town of Bogsdown was quiet now, with the sun setting. “You don’t have to walk me home, you know.” The green unicorn smiled. “I know. But Master Blazing did say you have bully problems, and we do have that buddy system. I wouldn’t mind becoming your buddy if you signed up, tough little guy like you. Besides, you looked like you could do with a talk. If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” Whimper still felt at ease with everything, even his bruises barely registered. “Sure, what do you wanna know?” “How come you’re so, you know, buff? What did you do for that?” “Oh, mostly workout programs from back in the old days. Chuck Boulders, Great Wolf Fang, that sorta thing.” “Oh, like, just tensing up really hard and then trying to punch?” “Uhuh, that kind of stuff. My dad says I’m too young to lift weights, but I do help out my aunt on her farm sometimes, that helped.” The unicorn girl nodded. “That explains a lot. Dynamic tension and isometrics are kind of a fad in martial arts, ever since Spruce Lee introduced it. It pops up every now and again. I didn’t think you could get buff with that, though, unless you really, really overdid it.” She winced at the thought. “Eheh, yeah, I kind of, sort of... did. My mom’s a dietetic nurse, so she helped me out a lot on the protein side of things.” He chuckled nervously. She stopped for a second. “Wait. You’re not Passiflora’s son, are you?” “Yup. Why?” She skipped along to catch up to him. “Wow. You’ve got big horseshoes to fill, then. And I assume you did that because of your breathing problem?” “Sort of. It’s complicated.” “Of course, never mind that. What about girls, then?” “What about girls?” “Any problems with those?” The boy raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I have a problem with girls?” “Well, you hesitated a couple of times when you tried to hit me and the other girls in the class, and you tried to talk to me like I was a friend when we were in the circle, even though you don’t really know me. That’s kind of a giveaway.” She looked at the ground then. “Plus, if you have a low self-esteem, it’s easy to be taken advantage of, especially for boys like you. Since you obviously don’t have any friends among the other boys here, that just leaves girls to worry about. So, do you?” “No. I get along with girls just fine.” Whimper resumed the pace. “That’s good, ‘coz you are kinda cute, you know. In a couple of years, if you stay that buff, you’re gonna be breaking hearts.” “Yeah, I’ve noticed. Mostly with older girls, though, I don’t know why. I keep getting looks, it’s weird.” “Hmm? What kind of looks?” “No offense, but a couple of girls your age, back at Flight Camp, I think they wanted to collar me or something.” “Oh, that. Well, you would look good in a collar.” “Excuse me?” She gestured to her neck. “You know, a horse collar. Big thing around your neck, makes your chest look even bigger than it already is. It’s not traditional around here, but the fashion’s been blowing over from Mustangia for a few months now. It’s nothing to worry about, us girls just like to pretty everything up, that’s all. And a collar is a lot easier to get on a boy than a sailor’s outfit.” Whimper shuddered. Starfall chuckled. “Hit a nerve there?” “Nah. Not like I know any girls who’d do that.” “No? You do have friends, at least, right?” “Uhuh. Peachy Pie, I’ve hung out with her for a long time. And Scootaloo and Rumble, I met at Flight Camp. But they’re from Ponyville.” “Flight Camp? This year’s Flight Camp? Then you haven’t known them for long.” “No. But they’re nice. They’re friends.” “Uhuh. Do your friends respect you?” “Sure they do. Master Blazing asked the same thing last week. Peachy Pie and me keep each other company, and we stick up for each other. She makes me laugh, and she finds good stuff for us to do.” “And you?” “I keep her out of trouble,” he replied coldly. Starfall nodded. “And, err, is she your closest friend, then? If you don’t know the other two that well.” “Umm, I don’t think there’s anyone I’m closer to than the others, if that’s what you mean. Why do you ask?” “Just to make sure. Sometimes ponies you think are your friends aren’t really friends. Sometimes they just want to take advantage of you. Especially if you have a good talent.” She looked at his flank then, at his cutie mark. “With talent like yours, you need to be very careful with what ponies you consort with. Sometimes, your real enemies aren’t who you think. Sometimes, it’s the ponies you think care about you that are dragging you down.” “How?” “By making you second-guess yourself, making fun of you. Not letting you speak up, pressuring you into doing embarrassing stuff, then bringing it up as a joke any time they want to shame you into following their lead. Making you sing when you don’t want to, or dance, or wrestle, just for their entertainment.” Whimper pouted at the thought. “It’s different for every pony, but the principle is the same, and the solution is the same, too. If you’re the alpha, they have to follow. They have to respect you. If they don’t, well, that’s a problem, and it can limit your growth, or worse.” That got the boy thinking. “How can you tell which ponies are your friends, then?” “Do what Master Blazing said: see what happens when they’re faced with your strength.” “You mean hurt them.” Starfall shook her head. “No, of course not; we’re not monsters. You shouldn’t hurt ponies for no reason, not if you can help it. But show them that you can hurt them. Be firm, even with ponies you care about. There’s no point in toughening up if you become weak around the ones you care for.” Whimper furrowed his brow. His house was already in view. “Really?” “Of course. Our power comes from confidence, that’s doubly true for a pegasus pony, and doubly true again for a pony with your breathing problem. I’ve seen it in other boys; they think their friends are looking out for them, but really they’re just there so they can be suppressed. They never achieve their full potential, because their so-called friends keep them down, tell them what to do. They laugh with their friends, but their friends laugh at them. They never get to show their real selves. And eventually...” Whimper cringed. “Eventually...” “Eventually, those friends get them in trouble, by making them do the wrong thing. They get blackmailed, basically, that’s the only word for it. They want their friends to be happy, and because of that, they not only not deal with their obvious weakness, but they let it get exploited. The only way to stop that is to remind ponies of the consequences of taking you for granted. Tell me, have your friends ever seen you just be proud and confident? Do they know what you can do, what kind of talent you have?” Whimper thought that over as he headed to the front door. He could already smell the pasta his mother had made just for him. Extra bit of pesto, too, for the oil. A boy his age needed the fatty acids for his hormonal balance, his mother always insisted. “You know… I don’t think Scootaloo has. Peachy Pie knows, and Rumble’s always nice to me, but he started off picking on me at Flight Camp. He said he was sorry. And he’s been asking about pegasus magic and martial arts stuff, too.” “Oh? That’s good. That’s what you need: ponies who respect you. So that only leaves Scootaloo. Assuming you’re right about the other two.” “They’re coming around tomorrow, I might as well give them a little demonstration.” Starfall smiled. “Good, you should show them the real you. Be firm. Then they’ll know they can’t take advantage of you, and you’ll know who your real friends are.” A green pegasus mare opened the door. “Oh, hi, there. Who’s your friend, Whimper?” “This is Starfall, from the dojo. Starfall, this is Passiflora.” “Heard a lot about you, Ma’am,” Starfall said. “Well, I’m sure most of it isn’t true. Thank you for walking my son home.” “No problem. See you on Friday, Whimper.” Starfall turned and walked away. “See you around, Starfall.” “And don’t forget what I said. Give it a shot tomorrow.” Whimper grinned. “Think I will.” He shook his head, trying to find the right words. His mind kept wandering for some reason, and he didn’t like that one bit. “W-well, they said I should start putting my hoof down, punishing the ones that don’t respect me. They said I should show you what I can do, let you know what happens if you ever disrespect me again. They said that my breathing problem, the anger issues, my… my weakness, it’s not the bullies that are really keeping me down. It’s ponies who keep treating me like I’m weak, the ones that keep me from speaking up and just try to get me to tag along. Ponies who don’t respect my strength and pretend to be my friend to keep me down.” “You mean ponies like me?” Peachy Pie asked. “You never make me do anything I don’t want to, Peachy, and when I’m doing something boring, you walk away and leave, you don’t drag me along. You never force me to do anything. You know what I can do, I know you respect me. Same as you, Rumble. You respect me, both of you. But you, Scootaloo, you… they said I should remind ponies like you what I can do, so maybe you’d respect me.” “So… do they respect you?” Scootaloo asked. He bit his lip. “Yeah. Turns out I’m good at being a Feather Cloak. Really good. I’ve already mastered their strongest technique. Their signature move, I can do already. Stuff their green belts can’t even do yet, I can do. And I’m not even signed up yet.” “Really?” Whimper snorted and pushed a hoof into Scootaloo’s shoulder. Yet, even with the blunt surface of his hoof pushing into her, she felt a needle pressing in instead, like the pin of a feather. For the briefest moment, she could see the swirl of feathers enveloping him. “Really.” She gulped and tried her best not to cry even as he withdrew his hoof. “Well, I get the message, thanks. I won’t try to get you to tag along for anything from now on. You do whatever you wanna do without me, if that makes you feel any better. Do you still need to punish me?” Whimper sighed and shook his head. He almost started crying when he leaned down and rubbed Scootaloo’s sore chest and arm. “Umm, no. I don’t want you to stop hanging out with me, I just…” He winced in pain and rubbed his head, like a pang of migraine had caught up with him. When it cleared, he was right back to his old self, same look in his eyes as the first day of Flight Camp. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” “It’s okay. You’ve just been under a lot of stress lately, what with, you know…” She wriggled her arm to get the feeling back in it. His touch was different now; warm and caring, healing, even. She felt her strength return at the gentle massage, or rather, she felt his strength flow into her. “Yeah.” Whimper looked down at the ground. Scootaloo got back up again. “How’s it been?” Whimper shrugged. “Couple of nights I couldn’t sleep, no biggie. Hey, Rumble, you wanna try that trick now?” “Sure.” Scootaloo caught her breath. Peachy Pie winced once the boys were sparring out of earshot. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m really sorry, he’s been overdoing it lately.” “I’m fine,” Scootaloo lied. “He’s just putting his hoof down, nothing wrong with that, right?” “He tried to hurt you. I think those ninja ponies are really getting under his skin.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Peachy Pie. This is just like Flight Camp: he’s gotta toughen up a bit. It’ll be fine.”