The Next day, Ember started preparing for the Gauntlet. We didn't know what it would involve, so we focused on versatility.
She practiced with her giant hand spell a lot, the one that was like Bigsby's Hand. She came up with a lot of neat tricks with it.
She also worked on a few other spells, with my help, including a haste spell, a flight spell, and an enlarging/shrinking spell to name a few.
The last one was interesting because it was basically a growth spell that she found could be used to shrink if she 'turns the spell upside down'. I had no idea what that meant, but Smolder apparently did.
Damn mages and their magical mumbo jumbo.
Smolder was trying to train with us, but she was hindered by her injuries as well as her lack of good sleep. She had nightmares that kept her awake.
We wrote to Luna to see if she could help. She said she would try, but her powers were weaker when dealing with non-ponies. Still, she would try.
I was worried for Smolder. She tried to smile and act friendly, but I felt her anger and fear.
I continued my Equestrian language studies. I was starting to figure some of it out, mostly with Smolder's help.
"So, why are you so good at writing? I've seen Ember's writing. Her's is terrible, but even that is better than the abomination that other dragons call writing," I asked Smolder when we decided to take a break.
"Mom insisted I know how to write," Smolder said. "She's a lot like Ember. She hates that dragons are just seen as big, dumb brutes, so she made sure me and Garble knew how to write, and exposed us to all kinds of stuff from all over.
"Like, Garble's poetry is actually an Abyssinian style, and I got into fashion from Manehattan fashion magazines mom got."
"What's an 'Abyssinian'?" I asked.
"They're some feline race that lives far to the northeast," she explained. "They don't usually come this far, but Equestrian traders sometimes stop by on their way back from Abyssinia."
"They aren't worried about being robbed?" I asked.
Smolder waved a claw. "Nah, no dragon's dumb enough. Everydrake knows if they rob them, they'll never come by again, and no drake wants that. Why do you think dragons hoard gold? No dragon actually cares about that stuff. We just use it to trade for stuff we actually want."
That actually did make sense. It would explain why Ember kept her gold and jewels just piled in a corner and her trinkets, weapons, and armor on shelves, pedestals, and displays.
I scratched my chin as I realized something. "What do you hoard?"
Smolder was silent for a moment as she thought. "You know what? You're a pretty cool guy. I'll show you."
"Really? You're okay with showing me your hoard?" That was a huge deal in dragon society. Showing someone your hoard meant you trusted them not to steal it, and trust among dragons was a premium.
"Sure, come on," she said as she stood up.
I put on my cloak, spoke the command word, and took off into the air after her. It was a short flight, only around five minutes, before touching down on another mountain.
I had actually never been on this one. Of course, I never had reason to before now.
"Mine's this one over here," Smolder said as she walked toward one of three caves nearby.
"Smolder?" Came a deep, yet feminine voice.
Smolder looked toward the larger cave, wide eyed. "Mom? I thought you were going to the winter cave?"
Smolder's mother came lumbering out, looking at both of us. "I couldn't just leave my little girl. Not after losing your brother."
"Oh, right! This is great!" Smolder cheered. "Mom, Garble's alive! He was being held captive by these weird creatures."
Her mom's eyes widened. "Wh-what? He's alive? Where is he?"
"They're taking care of him in Canterlot," Smolder replied. "He's in rough shape, and the ponies have ways to take care of him, so-"
Smolder didn't get a chance to finish before nearly getting knocked over by the air pressure from her mother's wings as she took to the sky, heading west.
"Um... should we send a warning to Canterlot?" I asked.
Smolder snorted. "Nah, it's funnier if it's a surprise."
I shook my hand, chuckling to myself. "Shall we?"
She led me into her cave. It was a lot smaller than Ember's, but it still wasn't small.
Just like Ember, she had a large bed with a pile of gold and gems stuffed in a corner. Unlike Ember, though, the walls were completely hidden by tapestries, and instead of trinkets, weapons and armor, Smolder had paintings, porcelain figurines, musical instruments, dresses, and other art pieces.
"Wow... these are beautiful," I said in awe as I looked at a marble bust of some... griffin?
"That's Admiral Delphine. She led the harpy air fleet during the Great Feather War," she explained. "That was a war about a hundred years ago between the harpies, griffins, and hippogriffs."
She pointed to a picture of a creature that I thought was a pegasus at first, until I noticed the small beak and talons. "That's Princess Novo. Mom knew her, personally. She's how mom and dad met.
"And this... Is an electric guitar," she picked up the instrument and played a few riffs. It must have had a built in amp, or something. "It's a pony invention. Garble says it isn't, that no lame pony can make something so cool, but he's wrong. Some pony named Sweet Riff invented it."
Smolder chuckled. "You know, Ember's the only other creature I've ever shown my hoard to. Most dragons don't get art."
I chuckled. "They would if they knew some of the art from my world."
Smolder raised an eyebrow. "Really? How do you figure?"
"You've seen how I fight," I stated, only for Smolder to shake her head.
"No I haven't," she said. "I was still trying to catch up when you fought Garble and those idiots he was hanging out with, I was on the other mountain when you fought that other dragon during the Gathering, and I was bleeding out, chained to a rock when you fought those summons."
I had to pause for a moment to think back. "Oh... damn. You really haven't seen me fight. Well, anyway, where I come from, we call how I fight 'martial arts'."
"So... you fight with art?" Smolder said, gripping her guitar a little tighter.
I laughed, "No, we turned fighting into art."
"How do you turn fighting into an art?" Smolder asked. "It's just punching jerks, isn't it?"
I lowered into a fighting stance and started running through some forms I learned so long ago.
"Art is the expression of your soul," I said as I punched, kicked, and parried imaginary foes. "Anything that you put your soul into can be art. Not only painting or music, but even something like cooking, fighting, hell, even politics can be an art."
Smolder watched in wonder. "Awesome. Can you teach me?"
I stopped, taking a breath as I said, "It's not easy, and takes time. You won't be a master after only a few days."
In response, Smolder took up her guitar and played a few more riffs. "You think I learned this overnight?"
"It takes years to master. Decades, even."
"I have thousands."
"It's painful at times."
"I've been through worse."
"I won't take it easy on you, just because we're friends."
"Bring it on."
I gave her a half smirk. "We'll see how long that lasts. Stand up."
Smolder jumped up. "So, what's first? Punching or kicking?"
I chuckled. "Standing."
Smolder's smile dropped. "Standing? I already know how to stand."
"Do you, now?" I didn't give her a chance to answer before shoulder checking her and knocking her to the ground. "Then why aren't you?"
She glared up at me. "Because you knocked me down."
I stepped back and said, "Knock me down."
She got to her feet and smirked. "You asked for it."
Her claw glowed with magic as she thrust her palm forward. A powerful shockwave shot through the cave, slamming into me.
Smolder's grin fell again as, despite the blow being powerful enough to rattle the walls, I remained standing, smirking.
Smolder snickered after a few seconds of gawking. "Alright, then. Standing it is."
"First thing, first, you will address me as 'sifu'," I said.
"Alright," Smolder nodded. "Teach me to stand, sifu."
Smolder collapsed onto the bed. "You weren't kidding. How is standing so hard?"
I chuckled as I started massaging her legs. "Because you aren't used to it. It's not how one would normally stand, so you have to teach your body otherwise."
Smolder groaned. "At least I get a massage for it."
"Glad to be of service," I said.
"So, who taught you, anyway?" Smolder asked.
"My grandfather," I answered. "He was a very well known teacher in China, before he took his family and moved to the US."
Smolder sighed, happily as I hit a particularly tight spot. "Wish I could've met him. He sounds cool."
"He was." I said. "His style was seen as 'inferior' by his peers, because he used aspects of martial arts that didn't originate in China. He used bits of Jujitsu, karate, kickboxing, boxing, and Greek wrestling on top of kung fu."
"I don't know what any of those things are," Smolder stated plainly.
I chuckled. "It's well rounded and borrows from many other cultures."
"Well, why didn't you just say that?" Smolder teased.
I pinched her thigh, getting a yelp. "I just did."
"Picking on a wounded little girl? You're a monster," she said, mockingly.
I rolled my eyes and sent a pulse of healing aura through her.
I was really going to have to ask Leo what that move was called. Until then, I just decided to call it healing pulse.
Smolder gasped. "Holy shit!" She shuddered. "What was that?"
I grinned as I went back to massaging her legs. "That's what saved your life. I have healing powers, apparently. Though, they aren't that strong, and it takes a lot out of me. Why, does it feel weird?"
"Yeah, it feels weird, but kinda nice, too," Smolder explained.
"Any pain?"
Smolder squirmed around a bit. "Nope. Not even a little. Why didn't you use that before?"
"Like I said, it takes a lot out of me. Even that little bit has me feeling like I just did an hour of training. Plus, I wasn't sure it would work. I only ever used it on fresh wounds. I didn't know if it would work on older injuries."
"Hey, this means you can use it on Ember's wing!" Smolder said.
I immediately facepalmed. "I can't believe I never thought about that. Stupid!"
Smolder shrugged. "I mean, she hasn't been able to fly since you met her, so you probably just forgot she's supposed to be able to."
"She's going to be training until sundown, so I guess I can surprise her at dinner," I said. "that gives us a few more hours."
Smolder smirked back at me. "What are we going to do until then now that I'm not hurting, sifu?"
I smirked back at her as I crawled up her back. "I can think of one thing."
"You know, I had something else in mind," Smolder complained as she struggled to move with weights strapped to her back and maintaining her stance.
"Less talking, more training."
"I'm already regretting this."