//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Blueblood // Story: I Can Count On You // by Ekhidna //------------------------------// Chapter 3: Blueblood Spike kept training with Fancy and practicing with Fleur for another week, though his training with Fancy had become less physical and more theoretical. He had explained to him the concept of an honor duel in full and the differences between one and a fight. To say he had been appalled by Fancy’s explanation would be an understatement. He had grown up reading the Power Ponies and other heroes and endlessly seeing his friends save the day time and time again (and two or three times himself). He firmly believed that for a hero, a good guy, to win one’s moral code was imperative. Not… not what Fancy told him. And yet the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. And then he realized that his own friends, the very icons he adored, were no exception. Twilight was the greatest example, both when she was selfish during Sombra’s return and then after when she wanted to kill Tirek for what he did. She had also lied and manipulated her friends to try and steal the pearl of the seaponies. Sure, she was ever so sorry afterward, but she still tried to steal the pearl. It was something foolish, but Fancy had opened his eyes to something: honor only existed to those that cared for it and personal morals codes could be bent to win a fight only if one was willing to do so. It was foolish he had never thought about it before, and it was entirely true. Though Fancy did proclaim that he preferred honor duels and had gone to great extent to explain why. It all could be summed up to a set of rules. An honor duel could only happen in one of two circumstances: 1.- If an offended party declared as such and demanded a duel to be had. In this case, the offended party had the right to choose the place, time, method of combat, and the rewards, if any. 2.- If a party declares a rivalry or challenge is made to another party. In this case, the challenged party has every right to choose the place, time, and method of combat, but not the rewards as they would be determined by the challenger and the duel would only proceed if the challenged accepted. After that, the complex set of rules for the combat itself basically boiled down to: no cheap tricks, no other weapons or forms of combat outside those previously agreed to, no outside help unless it was a group battle, a third party had to be present as witness and judge, and no ill retribution would fall on any side after the duel. Spike appreciated the lesson, though he wondered why Fancy bothered teaching him that. No matter. If anything, he could use one day to his advantage if possible. For the moment he was more preoccupied with his next trainer. He couldn’t help but smile when his mother told him mear hours prior who would be training him next. His favorite cousin (never tell Cadance he said that), the royal pain in the ass, the worst bachelor in Equestria, the greatest buffon he knew, and the prim and proper Prince he looked up to when he was a hatchling. “Blueblood!” Spike called seeing his cousin talking with a few noble ponies. It seems it wasn’t something important as Blueblood excused himself, the nobles bowed a little before retiring, and the stallion met him half-way in a tight embrace. “Cousin Spike!” Blueblood called, elated. “It’s so good to see again! Look at you, Shining and Fancy sure did a number with you!” He said gently punching his chest and upper arms jokingly. “They sure did!” Spike flexed his muscles a little before adopting a Sixte stance, perfectly balanced. “I’m not scrawny anymore, Blue!” He smiled not standing at the same height if not slightly taller than the unicorn. “That you are,” Blueblood returned the smile. “I was actually heading back home to prepare for your arrival. Come with me?” Spike nodded walking alongside his cousin. He glanced at the unicorn, smiling as he did, noticing his golden mane, his impeccable suit, smelling his perfume and oiled coat, his polished horn and his upright posture when walking. All in all his cousin was the embodiment of chivalry. The dragon had to suppress a chuckle. Chivalry my tail! Spike thought with humor. To Blueblood’s credit, he truly was a beacon of chivalry and one of the most well educated and proper gentlestallions he knew, but he was also a merciless prankster, an insufferable annoyance with unwanted guests and the worst date ever when it came to golddiggers. He could still remember the look on his face when he told him how he had treated Rarity, THE Rarity Belle during their first Gala. After that they became good friends, he was happy to know. As they walked Spike began to wonder and ponder what his cousin would be teaching him. Etiquette? Scouting as his natural talent was? Royal manners? How to disguise himself as a statue to scare ponies in the Gardens? Whatever it was he knew it was bound to be relaxing and fun! ****************************************----------------------------------------------- Fun? Maybe. Relaxing? Not in the slightless. “Shows what I know, huh?” Spike whispered to himself as he stretched with Blueblood at his side. “What? Did my favorite cousin thought I would be teaching him something boring?” Blueblood smirked. “I thought many things, I admit, but not this,” Spike replied looking around the very large room adorned with weights, a few running mills, balance poles, ropes, gloves, teeth protectors, hoof-shoes, rolls of bandages, sandbags, and more. But in the center of the room was the biggest surprise of all: a boxing ring, the ones used in professional events. “I never imagined you’d be a boxing enthusiast, Blue.” “Enthusiast, practitioner, apasionado, and a fighter!” Blueblood replied with a laugh. “I never thought you, of all ponies, would be into something that could ruin your fingernail polish.” “Oh, fuck you, Spike!” Blueblood laughed some more. “Just because I’m prim and proper doesn’t mean I don’t like a good fight every now and again,” he smirked. “And fingernail polish? Really? You dare to make fun of that, Princess Barbara?” “Low blow, Blue, low blow,” Spike feigned a hurt expression before smirking at his cousin. “Coltcuddler.” “Wall iguana.” “Bane of all mares.” “Worthless reptile.” “Prince Douchbag.” “Gem Vaccum.” “...Really?” “It has been a while, don’t judge me!” Both dragon and pony laughed as they continued their warm-up exercises. When they were done Blueblood helped Spike to bandage his hands and after that guided him to the nearby sandbag. “Okay, no more joking around. Spike, I’m going to teach you first the basic postures and the first jabbing combo, see my hooves?” Spike looked down. “See how they are positioned? See my balance? They aren’t too far apart nor too close, not too squared nor too sideways. Try to do it,” Spike did so with relative ease. “Mhmmm, I see your training with Fancy bore its fruits nicely. Remember, this isn’t fencing, you need to be a bit more firm. Yes, like that. Great, Fancy saved me the trouble of telling you to use your tail. Now,” Blueblood squatted a little bringing his arms up in front of him, his right slightly further from him than the left. “This is the basic guard posture or stance, whatever you want to call it. And this,” he did a slow three hit combo; two light punches with his left before a slightly stronger one with his right. “Is the three-jab punch. Fairly simple and in my opinion the perfect starting point for any newbie.” Spike nodded, silently imitating the combo and was surprised to see how similar and different it was from fencing. Without a weapon, his timing was a bit skewed but, at the same time, his body itself became a weapon. Spike repeated the combo, remembering to breathe and exhale lightly in between each interval. It took him eight repetitions for him to grow accustomed to the combo and the rhythm. “Fancy did a fancy work indeed,” he snorted at his bad joke. “Now, I want you to add a little bit of force to the combo and punch the sandbag here. Don’t be afraid to damage it a little,” he turned to demonstrate performing a quick combo and each hit landing with a *smack* not too loud nor too soft. “Like that, okay?” Spike nodded and did as instructed. He used a bit more strength than Blueblood, but the result was the same. “Good. Now repeat that five thousand times while I work out.” “What!?” ****************************************----------------------------------------------- To his credit, Spike had to admit Blueblood knew what he was doing. At first, he thought he was joking. He wasn't’. The first week had been grueling and boring; thousands of repetitions of the same exercise followed by another set after he was done. But by now he had memorized all the basic positions and guards, finding the low-guard, mid-guard, extended-guard, and philly shell as his favorite ones, mainly because they suited him so well. As for the punches, he had taken them all in stride, especially the jabs. He had also noticed something incredible once Blueblood started making the repetitions a bit more complex by mixing different stances and punch combos. What he noticed was that when he moved he felt like dancing, not like when he fenced, but more like actual dancing, like he was doing a water-down version of ballet but not quite. “Good, good. Use your balance just like I taught you and then strike! YES!” Blueblood cheered watching Spike deliver a heavy gut punch to a training dummy. “I even felt that! After you’re done with that set move to do some shadow boxing and after that move to the pear, you still need to work on your wrist speed. Keep it up, Spike, and you’ll soon be ready for fight practice and mock fights!” Spike smiled. ****************************************----------------------------------------------- “One-Two. One-Two. One-Two. Keep the flow running, don’t let up. If you need a breather, stand back and catch your breath. Remember to time your punches and exhale accordingly. Don’t overextend yourself but don’t give your opponent the chance to counter!” Spike could hear Blueblood order/comment/advice as he sparred with one of Blue’s personal attendants. So far the fight was on the pony’s favor; he was obviously more experienced and had better timing than his own. Still, Spike was putting on a good fight despite receiving several punches he barely felt. Not that it mattered much, he was a dragon and he was near invulnerable by conventional and unconventional means. It took stuff made out of mithril or orichalcum to actually harm him. That, or powerful beings comparable to or superior to dragons, such as alicorns. The punches of a pony were little more than mosquito bites to him even when the pony in question was allowed to punch for real. “Stop. Stop. This isn’t working,” Blueblood lamented on the side. With his magic, he brought up a mouth protector and his gloves putting them on easily. “Stand back, I’ll be his opponent for now. You ready, Spike?” Blueblood punched his gauntlets together. Spike nodded and a second later he was barely able to dodge a jab followed by two more and a feint gut punch. “Good reflexes. Why weren’t you using them before?” Blueblood asked in an icy, serious tone that made his blood freeze. What was going on? Was he mad? Did he do something wrong? Spike couldn’t ponder more as he took a low-guard stance to block to jabs but he couldn’t stop a right cross punch straight to his muzzle. It was fairly stronger than the previous pony’s punches, that was for damn sure but still not enough to harm him. As the mock fight continued Spike found it harder to dodge his cousin’s attacks, each hit that landed managing to make him flinch a little. He began suspecting Blueblood was using magic but his horn wasn’t lit nor he could feel the familiar tingling that magic caused on him. It had to be something else as he was starting to feel his punches. Blueblood moved back, took a deep breath and lunged forward again from a low angle moving side to side in blurring motions. Without even thinking it Spike did a twirl to the side evading his cousin. Or so he thought. When he stopped the first thing he noticed was Blueblood in front of him… he had read him like an open book. Spike felt a six-jab combo to his face forcing him to take a high-guard and then he heard and saw it. Blueblood pulled his right arm back and he could see his muscles expanding and contracting, veins and arteries marked under his coat and even steam coming out of his open mouth. “MEGATON PUNCH!” Blueblood cried out delivering a gut punch to Spike’s exposed belly. Spike’s eyes went wide feeling his entire body tremble, the shockwave of the punch coursing through his bones, muscles, scales, body, and soul. And with it, he felt pain. Pure, raw, undiluted pain extending from his belly to every damn inch of his body. Noise was nothing but a physical form of whiteness, his vision was nothing but a smudge or blur of blackness, and he could almost feel his very soul being punched out of his body... which might as well had been. “GRAAAAHH!” Spike cried out, gasping in desperation for air. His vision partly returned to him and made a point to notice he wasn’t on the ring anymore but a few meters away from him. He coughed violently only now noticing he was on his knees, unable to stand up as his legs trembled, his torso and belly burned, and he could only now taste the vomit and blood in his mouth. He looked up to see Blueblood climbing down the ring and walking towards him. Once he was in front of him he offered him a hand. “Just because you’re a dragon doesn’t mean you can relax and let your enemies hit you! Expect the worst. Always. Or else you’ll end up in the situation you are right now: beaten, bloodied, humiliated, and at the mercy of your enemy,” he said extending a gauntlet to Spike. Spike nodded taking the offered gauntlet and the promptly fainted. ****************************************----------------------------------------------- “I still don’t understand how you did it, Blue. That was the second worst hit I’ve taken,” Spike commented as he trained a little with a punching-bag. “Years of training, push-ups, sit-ups, and plenty of juice. Also, the second worst? Who gave you the first-- Twilight?” “Twilight.” “Magic test?” “More like magic freak out. Scary stuff,” Spike shuddered. “But seriously, how were you able to hit me that hard. It felt like something touched me and then erupted inside!” “It’s a bit hard to explain, but I focused all my strength, my momentum, and my weight into a single point and then land the hit into another single point. Kinetic damage can be tricky, even for dragons, your scales were intact, right? But the entire force of the punch still went through them and inside you. The cockiness of dragons is their greatest weakness.” “I’ll say,” Spike said with a chuckle. “Thank Celestia for dragon regeneration or else I’d been in bed for weeks,” Spike stopped. “But why the name though? Fancy said it helps out, but how?” “Ha! Easy. It’s a psychological effect. It basically helps you to put aside doubts and fear making your attack more accurate and powerful. I’ve tested it several times and it works. It’s effectiveness increases the louder you say it, actually.” “Seriously?” “I know, hard to believe, but it is true,” Blueblood shrugged. “Feeling up for a spar?” “Sure,” Spike and Blueblood walked to the ring. The unicorn levitated two mouth protectors for their use. The walked to the center of the ring, touched gloves, and took stances. Spike took a low-guard position while Blueblood took… no stance? “What are you doing?” “Sparring,” Blueblood replied before throwing a three-jab combo which Spike blocked. “Good, you learned well. Always keep that in mind, Spike.” “Avoid getting hit as much as you can. Those hits you can’t avoid, resist it,” Spike said. “And always make your opponent pay for it,” Blueblood said easily avoiding the five-jab combo Spike threw. I am so confused, Spike thought as he watched Blueblood lightly jumping with his arms hanging on his sides. Blueblood wasn’t taking any stance to defend himself, yet no matter how he attacked or what combo he used he always dodged, moved back, or quickly countered forcing him into a defensive stance. Was he mocking him? No. Blueblood wouldn’t do that. So what was he doing? The look on his face was enough to convince him he was being serious. So why in Tartarus is he not using any guard!? The fight went on for four entire rounds, but in the end, Spike gave up. Blueblood’s style was… it was something else. He was indeed boxing but he never used a single guard aside from feinting using one whenever he thought he was adapting to his style, throwing him off-guard. They sat on the gym’s bench drinking water when Blueblood spilled the beans. “No-Guard stance,” Blueblood said. “It is a unique style that is incredibly hard to master and emulate. But the results speak for themselves, eh?” “No kidding, Blue. Why didn’t you teach me that?” Spike questioned. “After a month I can tell you with full confidence boxing isn’t for you, Spike. Or rather, it fits you, but you aren’t compatible,” he put an arm around his cousin’s shoulders. “But your guard is one of the best I’ve ever seen and your speed, both to attack and to dodge, mixes with your movements beautifully, not to mention your reflexes. Remember when we first sparred?” “How could I? I still feel the damn bruise.” “Crybaby. Spike, you dodged my attacks out of reflex without me giving a single warning. That takes skill and good instincts. There’s nothing more I can teach you, but let me tell you that it has been a great month, baby cousin,” Blueblood smiled lightly shaking the dragon. “Same here, Blue,” Spike returned the one arm hug. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know who is going to train me next?” “Lady Applejack,” Blueblood smiled. “She said something about ‘Teachin’ Spike what Apple Family Tree Buckin’ is all ‘bout’” “Oh boy….” Spike gulped. End.