//------------------------------// // Chapter XXVI: A Fighting Chance // Story: The Equestria Games: First Blood // by 8_Bit //------------------------------// Five Ponies. Rarity. Blueblood. Papercraft. Big McIntosh. Apple Cloud. Five ponies had been died since the broadcast in the skies above the arena the night before, which matched the counts Twilight had made of the cannons. Twelve ponies were down, leaving twelve remaining. Thunderlane’s face was yet to appear in the sky, meaning he was still alive, but this was a fact that Twilight was still trying to decide whether or not to be happy or sad about. Awkward silence hung in the air as the two ponies trekked along the river in the slowly darkening twilight, the only sounds around them being a gentle orchestra of chirping crickets, the tender sloshing of the stream, and the occasional quiet clop as their hooves came down upon the stones littered around the river bank. The air was cool, but not a bitter cold, which blew softly against their manes as they walked. Twilight reminisced back to the many nights she’d spent camping out at the clearing in the Everfree with Shining Armor. They quickly mastered the art of constructing a bivouac after more failed attempts than either of them would like to have admitted, but they still had fun attempting to build on every single night they spent camping. Even when they had finally managed to sharpen their shelter building skills to a half decent level, they rarely actually slept in their creations. Not after one of their failed attempts where they’d slept in the open because the hot summer air made sleeping under a shelter too stuffy anyway. They’d been woken by the sun rising, shining brightly into their eyes, only to watch in astonishment as the rays slowly became entangled in the rising spray from the waterfall below, and the rainbow in the mist literally faded into reality. After witnessing this marvel of nature, they only really slept in their shelters if the night was too cold, but they still built them every time they camped, just in case. Fluttershy quickly picked up on the signs as they walked; signs about Twilight’s demeanor that clearly showed she was lost in thought. The slight smile. The distant look in her eyes. The small tears forming, but not flowing. It was a testament to Fluttershy’s kind hearted nature that she was able to recognize these signs, even more so that she didn’t disrupt the reminiscence. Instead, she remained in silence as the pair arrived at the tree where they would sleep for the night, allowing Twilight’s thoughts to remain fixated firmly on better times. The pair remained in silence for the remainder of the evening. Despite this, they seemed to be on the same wavelengths when they finally returned to the tree, as they both set about gathering more sticks to strengthen the crude mattress, and plucking leaves off the nearby branches to make it more comfortable. They made eye contact a few times as they went about their work, but Fluttershy wore the same expression each time, one that without words said ‘I understand’, which gave Twilight a good sense of emotional support. It seemed that Fluttershy was naturally a very comforting pony. Her shy character was more of a cover up for the beautiful soul within. She was truly sweet, caring, and definitely the kind of pony that deserved to walk out of the arena. Twilight had plenty of time to think on this as the two ponies ate their berries and apples, before resigning themselves to bed. As she lay in the sleeping bag, listening to the almost silent snores of the pegasus cuddled up next to her, her mind continued to drift. Her past was hardly the most joyous, and her future was looking bleak. Even if she could go home to Shining Armor, losing Thunderlane was something she didn’t know if she could cope with. It was as Fluttershy let out a contented sigh, clearly lost in the brighter world of her dreams, that Twilight ultimately came to her verdict. She couldn’t think about home just yet, not while she was here with Fluttershy. She could only be with her for a few more days at the most, but if she was going to have any chance of getting home, they would have to split up. Twilight knew she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to kill Fluttershy, and as painful as it was for her, sometime in the next few days she would have to split from her, and hope that she died quickly and mercifully at the hoofs of the clique ponies. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Scootaloo moaned softly as she drifted gradually back into consciousness, unable to recall the events in the final moments leading to her being knocked out. As she slowly forced her eyes open, she found herself in eerie darkness. She was only able to make out a few basic shapes as she sat up, finding that she had been lying in a sleeping bag. The cut on her lip had long since scabbed over again, and the large amounts of blood on her hooves had been cleaned off, save for some of the areas where it had dried too much to be simply wiped away. As her eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness, she came to notice more specific details about where she was. It looked to be some kind of animal den, probably somewhere near the roots of a tree, judging by the domed dirt ceiling with various roots and twigs sticking out in random places. Another sleeping bag sat just across from her, its occupant still sleeping soundly. There was a small hole in the wall behind the other sleeping pony, presumably the way in and out. Either they were deep underground, or it was night, as no light was able to make its way through the hole. Her eyes soon became adjusted enough to make out one more figure in the dark sat by the small entrance, presumably acting as a sentry. He was still awake, but hadn’t noticed her just yet. Scootaloo didn’t dare move just yet. She didn’t know which pony he was, or if he was going to hurt her. She sat motionless for a few tense minutes as her eyes continued to adjust, before she finally came to identify the more specific features about the sentry pony. Short, dark red coat, black mane, and the unmistakable cutie mark of a cog. “Dawny?” Scootaloo asked quietly. Clockwork Dawn sat up straight as soon as he heard her voice, grinning at her, and dashing across the small space to give his friend a hug. On his way, he walked straight across the other sleeping bag, which didn’t go down well. “Ow!” said the blue pegasus, who sat up quickly in surprise. “Hey, what gives?” Her complaints went ignored, as Scootaloo and Clockwork Dawn held each other in their tight hug. The filly could have cried, just happy to see a friendly face. “Where the hell have you been?” she asked half-jokingly, as they finally loosened their grips on each other. “Getting his flank crushed by trees,” answered the other pony, who had now stood up out of her sleeping bag. She was unfortunate in that she was the tallest of the three of them, and had to duck in the cramped space of the den, whilst Clockwork Dawn was just short, and Scootaloo was just a filly. “Now that I can believe,” Scootaloo chuckled as she finally put a face to the name of the other pony. “You’re Blue Streak, right?” “Mmhmm, and you’re Scootaloo. ‘Dawny’ here told me all about you while you were out.” “Hey,” Clockwork said aggressively, looking back over his shoulder at Blue Streak. “Only Scootaloo calls me that.” “Why? I think it’s a sweet name. ‘Dawny’” was the half-serious response. Scootaloo chuckled. “Don’t try and be threatening, it doesn’t suit you, Dawny.” He sighed, gently facehoofing. “Two mares. All the ponies in this arena, and I get saddled with two mares.” “Oh don’t be such a drama princess,” Blue Streak laughed. “He’s always been one, I don’t see any chance of it changing,” Scootaloo added, before changing the subject for Clockwork Dawn’s sake. “So how long have I been out?” “About six hours,” Clockwork answered, appreciating the different topic. “You were in a bad way when we found you, but we brought you back here and cleaned you up.” “How are you feeling?” asked Blue Streak. “Could be worse,” she answered with a shrug. “Bit of a headache, but then again, I nearly split it open on a tree, so I guess that a bit of pain is norm-” Scootaloo was cut off mid-sentence by the sound of a twig snapping. It was loud, but distant enough to have come from outside. The three ponies sat in silence as the twig snap was followed by hoofsteps and the gentle rustling of the bushes covering the hole above. Scootaloo cursed silently as torchlight shone down the hole, accompanied by a male voice calling out from above. “Right, I know you’re down there, why don’t you make this easier and come up now.” None of them moved a muscle. “I’ve got napalm and matches here, so I could kill you right now if I really wanted to. I’m giving you the chance to face me, I suggest you take it.” Blue Streak sighed. “We’re gonna have to go up there.” “Listen to her!” the voice from above called back. “She’s definitely thinking on the right wavelength there!” “What about out stuff?” whispered Clockwork Dawn. Scootaloo couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “If he’s got napalm, I don’t think we should test his patience. Let’s just go up there quickly.” They all nodded in agreement, and one by one, clambered up the hole. As it turns out, the leaves of the bush were blocking a significant amount of light from reaching the den, as the moon shone brightly down on the arena from a cloudless sky, brightly enough that Scootaloo had to squint as she stepped out onto the forest floor. “Well,” said the voice from somewhere in the shadows. “Blue Streak, Clockwork Dawn, and Scootaloo, am I right?” Clockwork Dawn wasn’t intimidated. “Why don’t you show yourself?” The voice chuckled slightly, before the pony it belonged to stepped out of the dark. The pegasus in question had a light blue coat, with a mane that alternated dark blue and red, with a large scabbard on which sat two sheathed swords, but there wasn't any sign of napalm or matches. Clockwork Dawn cursed his gullibility. “Fire Work,” said Blue Streak. “See, we can remember names too.” The clique pony in question began to laugh. “I see you fixed up your little friend there,” he said, gesturing to Scootaloo. “I wonder if she’s told you that she’s a killer, just yet.” Scootaloo stared at the ground awkwardly as her friends looked at her disbelievingly. “We found Rarity,” Fire Work continued. “Well, what was left of her. Her bow was in a bush about ten metres from her corpse, which gives us a few possibilities as to what happened to her. Either she was brutally attacked, and lost her bow. Or, and this is much more likely, she was a pansy who decided she didn’t want to fight, so she threw her bow away. Now what kind of pony kills an unarmed pony?” “You can talk,” snarled Blue Streak. “All those ponies that died at the cornucopia. You and your ‘friends’ killed them unarmed.” “My friends did, but I didn’t,” Fire Work corrected. “When it comes to fighting unarmed ponies, I prefer to take a back seat. You know, keep my hooves clean. By the looks of your filly friend, she doesn’t do the same. I can see you tried to clean it off, but did you honestly not wonder whose blood that was?” None of the ponies answered. Scootaloo was becoming more and more ashamed of herself by the minute. “Anyway, back to business,” Fire Work said, unsheathing one of his swords and throwing it on the ground in front of him, towards the small group. “Who’s gonna be the first one?” Clockwork Dawn wasn’t convinced. “Where are your ‘friends’ then?” “Back at the cornucopia. Any other questions?” “Yeah,” Blue Streak said. “Why’d you leave them behind?” “I needed to use the little stallion’s room, and I don’t think I’d have been too successful in asking one of them to come along. As I was walking back, I heard talking nearby, so I followed the voices to your little hole.” “What’s with the swords?” asked Scootaloo. Fire Work was becoming tired of the questions. “I’m not going anywhere in this arena unarmed. Look, I’d love to talk all night, but I really need to be getting back, and I’d prefer to kill you with dignity, not like animals.” Blue Streak stepped forward, and picked up the sword. “Just give us a minute, okay? I’ll fight you.” A large grin appeared on Fire Work’s face as he pulled out his other sword, anticipating the fight to come, turning away from Blue Streak and began some practice slashes on an imaginary foe. “Right,” Blue Streak whispered to Scootaloo and Clockwork Dawn, facing away from Fire Work. “As soon as we start fighting, run. I can hold him off for a few minutes while you get away. Head straight to the sea. If I beat him, I’ll meet you there.” Clockwork Dawn looked at her with concerned eyes. “And if you lose?” “Then I’ll have bought you some time to escape.” Scootaloo and Clockwork nodded appreciatively as their friend faced up to her foe, who had just dealt an fatal stab to the heart to his imaginary opponent. “All done with your goodbye?” he asked arrogantly. “Pretty much. But why are you giving me a chance?” “The capitol ponies want us to fight like savages. Excuse me if I want to be a gentlecolt about the arena, I just think its only fair to give my opponents a chance.” Blue Streak paused to think this over, as Fire Work charged forward. He swung wildly at her chest, but she was quick enough to back away in time. The blade nicked her shoulder as she did so, causing her to yelp. Fire Work saw a chance, and swung backwards towards her neck, but despite her shoulder pain, she quickly raised her sword to deflect his. He had gotten in close with his swing, so Blue Streak attempted a stab towards his chest as soon as she had deflected his swing, but he was quick to dodge out of the way, ramming the hilt of his sword into her muzzle. Blue Streak stumbled backwards, her vision blurring slightly, as blood ran down her muzzle. A cursory glance backwards confirmed that Clockwork Dawn and Scootaloo had already made their escape, a fact which Fire Work picked up on at the same time as her. “How noble. Sacrificing yourself so your friends can escape. You just might make a worthy opponent yet.” Blue Streak grinned as she crouched down, wiping the blood dripping off her chin, before putting all of her strength into an upwards leap. She brought the sword over her head, before sending all of her downwards momentum into an almighty swing aimed for Fire Work’s head. He jumped out of the way in the nick of time, as Blue Streak’s blade sank deep into a tree stump, and stuck fast. She desperately tried to pull it out, but to no avail, and she had to frantically jump back to avoid one of Fire Work’s downward swings that would have taken her forelegs off. “Well,” he said with a chuckle to his retreating opponent. “I gave you a chance, and you blew it. End of the line, I’m afraid.” He slashed aggressively at her chest, expecting her to go down instantly. She did go down, however it was her ducking under the slash, only to roll forwards onto her forelegs, flipping her whole body over them, and kicking outwards as her hind legs came level with Fire Work’s head. He tumbled backwards, his sword disappearing into a nettle bush. Frantically, he took his chance whilst Blue Streak was still recovering from the flip, tackling her violently, before pinning her down, and lashing out violently at her head and upper body with his forelegs. Each time his hoof made contact was agonizing for Blue Streak, and the time he spent making his attack felt like an eternity. By the time he was finished, she could barely even move. She gave a deep groan as he stood up, and made his way over to the stump that her sword was still embedded deep into. A few sharp tugs saw it come loose, and the stump split as he twisted it away completely, before walking back over to his broken opponent. He stood above her, sword aimed at her throat, looking down on her with mock pity. “Aww, I’m so sorry, Blue. Don’t feel too bad, I mean, you did try your best. But, then again, against me your best is only second best.” She winced as he rested the blade against her throat, wondering why he was taking so long. “Any last words?” She looked up at him, terrified, only to notice the way he was stood above her. Without a moments hesitation, she summoned all the strength she could muster, and lashed out with her hind leg, aiming straight for Fire Work's hundred point region. Her hoof made a sickening squish as it made contact with his groin, the effect of which was not dissimilar to running him down with a car. He collapsed to the forest floor next to her, crossing his legs as if to prevent further damage to his delicates, writhing in agony with a moan that sounded a few octaves higher than his normal voice. “Yeah,” Blue Streak said weakly, reaching out for the sword, which had fallen to the ground next to her head. “I’ve got some final words for you.” She used the sword as a balancing point to pull herself onto all fours, and when she was finally stood up, she drove it full force into Fire Work’s chest. The cannon sounded as she limped away, and muttered to herself with a small smile on her face. “Anything worth fighting for is worth fighting dirty for.”