//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Spike VS Garble // Story: You Can Count On Me // by Ekhidna //------------------------------// Chapter 6: Spike VS Garble “To think he was able to match Vanishing Zhaitan blow for blow. It still looks unreal to me,” an Elder said shaking her head. “Sister, I dare say that the Dis--that Spike was able to surpass Zhaitan in some moments during their fight. Impossible as it may sound,” another Elder told. “He defeated Grunkle, The Smasher. That hybrid, Sluriasma. Raiga of the Thunder. And now he even defeated the top favorite, Vanishing Zhaitan. How is it possible that he’s still standing?” Kroxus asked out loud to no one in particular. “Worry not, brother, Spike won’t be able to withstand Garble, The Fire Fist. Rumor says that they have a personal feud. If true, Garble shall put him down. Besides, look at Spike, he can barely stand as it is,” another Elder said smugly. “Don’t be so confident, Valerian. If I have learned something from Spike this day, is that he may not be a true dragon, but he is not one to be underestimated. He might have another surprise under his scales,” an Elder called watching down at the arena directly at Spike. Her fellow seven Elders watching the purple-scaled dragon closely the same way she was. --------------------------************************ Spike looked at Garble approach more and more to the center of the arena while his body trembled. Baring his fangs, Spike clenched his fists hard. This is bad. This is really bad. I used up all of my fire last match. Calm down, Spike, calm down, Spike thought closing his eyes for a moment to stabilize his trembling body with mild success. Garble is pretty beaten, meaning I can take advantage of his injuries if I strike fast enough. That’s assuming I can actually move fast enough to pull that off or hit with enough strength! Arrgggh! My entire body is aching, I can feel my muscles spasming, and I’m nearly exhausted. But he can only see with one eye. I don’t have enough fire to spit out a single fireball, much less use Amplitude for half a second, Spike thought while seeing Garble stop about ten meters in front of him: his expression neutral and emotionless, but his eyes were clearly scanning him up and down. He felt a few drops of cold sweat form on his forehead before gulping. I swear on my mother’s name that after this is over I’m going to train from dusk till dawn until I can use Fire Jet and Amplitude without so much of a fuss. Especially Fire Jet, the power up is awesometacular, but the toll is too high. ‘Hey Twilight, remember how I came up with Amplitude? Well, wanna hear this crazy idea I had about using my fire on myself in an even deadlier way? I call it Fire Jet. Yes, Pinkie Pie came up with the name. Imagine Amplitude taken to the next five levels with the only drawback being that it pretty much destroys my body while I use it. How do you ask? By literally setting EVERYTHING inside me on fire and then shoot small bursts of fire through the tiny space between my scales, of course. Neat, right!?’ Spike chanted internally in a mocking voice before groaning. I should’ve taken her lecture more seriously back then, he sighed. Okay, Spike, you can do this. Remember, no matter how much you want to punch his snout in, your goal is to beat him as fast as you can. This isn’t about you, it's about Ember. This is for Ember, Spike thought while looking at Garble. Now, how exactly am I going to beat him? I can’t fly, but he can. Without Amplitude I won’t be able to use his injured leg and ribs against him, and I won’t be able to take more than a couple of his attacks since he’s way stronger than me. He had some rest while I’m fresh out of a hard-won fight, Spike shot another glare at Ember’s grade. I can’t outrun him. My speed is currently Tank levels. I can’t out move him with my muscles screaming bloody murder every time I make a move. And I certainly don’t have half an hour to regain enough fire to use Amplitude again. Yeah, things ain’t looking too bright for me, Spike gulped. Maybe I can outsmart him, but how? “...and here they are. The finalists of this Tournament of Bonding! To my right we have Spike! And to my left, we have Garble, The Fire Fist!” The crowd roaring was deafening with both names being chanted with Spike’s being the superior one for the first time since the start of the tournament. Spike felt a surge of panic crawl up his spine when he realized the match was about to begin. Shit, shit, shit! Come on, Spike, think of something you useless reptile! Clear mind, tempered heart, steady soul. Clear mind, tempered heart, steady soul. Clear mind, tempered heart, steady soul. Clearmindtemperedheartsteadysoul! Spike repeated in a hurry, unable to calm himself down. A moment later Torch roared signaling the start of the match. Spike groaned out loud. Without a plan in mind, all he could do was take a mid-guard position, readying himself for whatever Garble had in store. He took a step back when Garble began to walk toward him with a slight limp on his right leg. Time itself came to a crawl for Spike while he watched the fierce red dragon he had met almost twenty years ago approach him step by step. A dragon that was everything he wasn’t nor he wished to be. A dragon that thought of him as nothing more than a weakling and everything a dragon was not supposed to be. He didn’t notice how close Garble was until he was able to hear his quivering groans. “...” “...” “...” “...” Spike stared at Garble, waiting for him to make any kind of movement while his brain was still trying to come up with a plan to deal with Garble given the circumstances. After a few moments, Garble was the one to move by raising his left arm above his head. Spike took another step back and changed his position to favor a slightly crouched, mid-high guard position. His muscles, scales, and bones burning in pain. Spike tried to roll away, but his legs didn’t move when he saw Garble raise his right arm above his head. They stared at each other for several seconds until Spike noticed something peculiar. Why is it so quiet? Spike asked himself Spike looked above Garble’s head and found his arms were forming an ‘X’. “Huh?” Spike muttered dumbfounded. A roar from Torch was soon followed announcing the end of the match and his victory. Spike stood upright losing his defensive stance at the same time Garble lowered his arms. “Why?” Spike asked, confused. “You could’ve--” “Beat you?” Garble interrupted. Spike nodded. “Then why did you surrender, Garble?” Garble grunted. “You beat Raiga and Zhaitan. So maybe you’re not as pathetic as I thought you were,” Garble grunted again holding his left side. “Plus I don’t want Ember nagging over my shoulder all the time. Winning ain’t worth it,” he spread his wings. “I will be my own dragon, Sparkle Warkle.” Without another word, Spike watched as Garble flapped his wings and flew away out of the arena where Fizzle and Matchflick were waiting for him. “...Okay... that happened,” Spike muttered feeling relieved he didn’t have to fight against Garble. He was a bit startled when two dragons landed at his side telling him they were ordered to take him to Ember. Spike nodded before they grabbed each of his forearms and pulled him up into the air. While he was being carried over to Ember, Spike didn’t suppress his glare as he got closer and closer to the grade. End.