//------------------------------// // Chapter Six: First Day // Story: Battle Ready // by D101 Reviews //------------------------------// Chapter Six: First Day Battle sat in the kitchen of the library, slumped over a steaming cup of coffee. He had spent ages trying to fall asleep in the basement but it evaded him. Taunted him, mocked him. The nightmares wouldn't go away. That was for certain. His nights would be haunted by the omnipresence and omnipotence of the horrific images that stalked his mind. He groaned and knocked back a deep gulp of the bitter drink, kicking his mind back to full consciousness. Sleep had been his main concern as of late. It seemed no matter what he tried he couldn't get a decent night's rest. Even as he thought about his insomnia, images bulldozed their way into his minds. Flashes of things that he could no longer tell if they were real splintered fragments of memory, or just distorted figments of his own tortured imagination. Shattered bones, broken shields, mauled and mutilated corpse, screams of agony, a cold, dark laugh, the Gates of Wrath... such bloodshed... Battle clapped his hands over his ears and screwed up his eyes. It was bad enough he had to dwell on these thoughts during his nightmares, without having to visit them during the day too. "I thought Luna was supposed to deal with nightmares," he grumbled softly to himself. Princess Luna, fellow ruler of Equestria, regent of the very moon and the alicorn who brought about the very night. Battle had heard that she also protected the dreams of the people of Equestria, guarding their sleep by providing dreams, and chasing away nightmares. Yet his night had been no different. An hour or so of a confused, half sleep-like state, before descending into hell, even for only a little while, and to return, unable to sleep again. He lifted his cup to his eye and stared into it, noticing the distinct lack of coffee in the bottom. Battle sighed and set the mug down again, rubbing his face with his hands, staring out from between the gaps in his fingers. As he sat, a familiar, chilling thought came into his head. It was all your fault. He gripped his head by the hair, eyes manic, tears welling uo at the corners of his eyes. Too hard... you pushed them too hard. Battle pushed himself away from the table and got to his feet, staggering to the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned over the sink. He was shaking now, the oncomings of depressive episode already threatening to consume him. He leaned over the sink and took deep, shuddering breaths. He could taste bile on his tongue as he fought the urge to vomit. Gripping the sink as hard as he could, he choked back the sick trying to force its way up his throat. After several, deep swallows, he managed to keep his food down, though he continued to shake violently. "Pathetic," a voice said. His voice. Battle looked up into the mirror over the sink. It was his reflection, but at the same time it wasn't his reflection. A distorted image conjured from his own cracked mind. His reflection stared back at him, smug, coy and callous. His black and gold armour was drenched in blood and gore and the eyes that glared at him were hard and unforgiving, but filled with sadistic mirth. Now Battle really was going to be sick. He leaned forward and emptied his stomach into the sink, a horrible retching sound filling the small room. He slumped slightly as he continued to shake as his not-reflection stood over him, mocking. "Oh how the mighty have fallen," he chuckled. "You... aren't... real," Battle sputtered as he forced himself upright, wiping the sick off of his mouth on the back of his hand. "But does that make the words I speak any less true?" the reflection asked. Battle didn't answer. The reflection smiled. "If they had been better prepared... if you hadn't been so eager, so terrified... so... weak... then they might still be alive." "Shut-up," Battle growled. "Jumping head first into trouble without even thinking of the consequences," the reflection taunted. "I said shut-up," Battle growled more forcefully. "You poor, pathetic foal," the reflection teased. "He's coming back you know. How does it feel? To know you led the lambs to the slaughter for nothing! How will you fair this time I wonder? Will you triumph again? Or will you run? Run away and hide because the monster is coming, like the weak, snivelling pathetic-" The glass shattered around Battle's fist in a shower of jagged shards and droplets of blood. He staggered back and slumped against the wall, ignoring the dull throb of pain in his hand as blood trickled down his fingers from the cuts where the glass had cut into his knuckles. Little by little the shaking died down and Battle began to calm down. He shook his head to clear the last remnants of what happened from his mind. He hadn't had an episode quite like that in a long while. His horn glowed brightly as the pieces of the mirror flew back together and fixed into place on the wall. He pushed himself to his feet and washed away the sick in the sink before he left the bathroom, wrapping his wounded hand in toilet paper. "I should get myself committed," Battle joked half-heartedly. "Battle?" He looked up as he saw Spike standing their, rubbing his eyes and looking at him. "Oh, hey Spike," Battle said, smiling. "What happened to your hand?" Spike asked sleepily. Battle feigned embarrassment as he lied: "I punched the wall in my sleep." Spike blinked. "Strong punch." "Thank you," Battle said. The two stood staring at each other for a while. "Want some breakfast?" Battle asked. "I'd love some!" Spike cried. Battle's idea of 'breakfast', consisted of three heaping plates of waffles, smothered in chocolate sauce and strawberries. Not that Spike complained. With a hearty smile, Spike swallowed the first of the waffles in one, large bite. Battle smiled and started eating his own pile of waffles. Spike swalloed at looked down at the waffle's eyes wide. "Problem?" Battle asked. "These are the best waffles I have ever eater!" Spike cried, abandoning knife and fork, he tipped the plate up and the contents slid into his mouth. Battle chuckled as Twilight stepped into the kitchen. "You look pretty good," Twilight said as she looked at Battle. "Come again?" "Aren't you a little bit hung over?" she asked. Battle rolled his eyes in understanding. "Heavy-weight," he said simply. He motioned over to the third plate of waffles. "Breakfast if you want it." Twilight looked over at it. "You made that?" "Yeah. Couldn't get back to sleep so I decided to make breakfast just as Spike woke up." "After you finished bandaging your hand with toilet paper," Spike piped up. "What?" Twilight asked. "I punched the wall in my sleep," Battle said, lifting his bandaged hand. "You must have some pretty violent dreams," Twilight said as she started on her own breakfast. "Believe me you have no idea." Twilight decided that it would be better not to press the matter, instead preferring to admonish Spike for the manner in which he was cleaning his plate... with his tongue. Battle merely shook his head and smiled. After Twilight finished her rant at Spike, the young dragon looked at her. "So what's the plan for today?" he asked Twilight. "I'm not sure," Twilight said, sitting ponderously as she pushed a stray strawberry around her plate with her fork. "We were going to have a picnic for lunch with the girls but aside from that there isn't anything I can think that we desperately need to do." She turned to Battle. "Any ideas?" Battle swallowed his last mouthful and nodded. "I don't know about you but I need a knew wardrobe," Battle said,tugging at his shirt. "Don't you have other clothes?" Twilight asked. Battle shook his head. "Nothing but the clothes on my back." Twilight rolled her eyes. "You'll have to see Rarity about that," Twilight said. "She'll throw a fit when you tell her you've only got one outfit but she'll get you fixed up with a new wardrobe in no time." "She'll expect payment right?" Battle said. "Depends. She may do it as a favour, or she'll probably ask for one or two of those Drachma's," Twilight said. "Drachma's are worth their weight in gold in nations like Equestria. I'm sure two Drachma's will easily cover the cost of a new wardrobe, even without a discount," Battle explained taking a Drachma from his pocket and flipping it in the air. He slapped his hand over it as it landed on the table. "Heads," he muttered, lifting his hand away. "Guess I'll be going to Rarity's." "See anything you like?" Rarity asked, "You mean between well-mannered everyday stallion and fancy-pants? No, not really," Battle replied, flicking through some of the designs in Rarity's catalogue. Rarity pouted. "You don't have to be rude." "Apologies, didn't mean to insult," Battle replied. "It's just, look at me Rarity. Do I fit either of those two categories?" Rarity looked Battle up and down and bit her lip. "No," she finally admitted. "You're a bit more... roguish. Like Rainbow Dash but more fitting for a stallion." "I should hope so I am one," Battle chuckled. Rarity smiled again. "Well, if that's what you want I suppose the customer is always right," she sighed. "Let's take your measurements then. Can't make a wardrobe without knowing the sizes." Battle smiled as he followed Rarity to a small podium. He climbed up onto it and stretched his arms out as Rarity began to measure their lengths. "So was this the fashion back where you came from?" she asked, indicating what he was currently wearing. "I wear what I will," Battle replied simply. "It isn't a trend but even if it was I'd still wear it. Not out of a need to e accepted but simply 'cause I do what I like." Rarity nodded as she started to measure Battle's torso, making a note of her previous measurement in her notepad with her magic. "So you're an against the flow kind of stallion?" Rarity asked. Battle shrugged. Rarity scowled at him as she lost her place and tried once more to measure Battle's torso. Battle smiled apologetically. "You mentioned you were a sort of doctor?" Rarity said, trying to strike up a conversation once again with Battle. "Yeah, so?" "You're a bit young aren't you?" "Aren't you a bit young to have your own boutique?" Battle returned, smiling. "This is the art of the dress- er, suit," Rarity said. "It is my passion." "Fair enough," Battle said. "Back to my point then," Rarity muttered, measuring Battle's waist. "Unless medicine is your passion I'm curious as to how such a young stallion could be in the medical practices. I mean, how old are you for a start?" "Bit of a personal question don't you think Miss Rarity?" Battle chuckled as Rarity started measuring his outer leg. "Just answer the question darling." "Twenty four if you must know," Battle replied. "Twenty four and already a doctor," Rarity muttered. "It isn't even your special talent as far as I can tell." "I'm a type of medical practitioner," Battle reminded her. "I don't have a degree in medicine or anything. I know enough to get me by and help a pony out in a crisis." "Hmmm," Rarity hummed as she measured Battle's inner leg. "And since we're on the subject of young, how old is Twilight?" "Twenty one, why do you ask?" "You think it odd I'm three years older than her and have an interest in things outside my special talent, yet she's a princess of Equestria?" "Point taken," Rarity agreed, standing up again. "I think I have enough to be getting on with at the moment." "How much is this going to cost?" Battle asked. "Oh my dear Battle," Rarity exclaimed. "You have no clothes aside from the ones on your back and you think I would force you to pay? I insist on creating your new wardrobe for you for free... besides your request presents me with a challenge, something I always enjoy." Battle smiled before he threw something to Rarity. The unicorn caught it with her magic and lifted it to her gaze. A drachma. Her eyes bugged and she looked at Battle amazed. "I insist on paying," Battle said grinning. Rarity looked at the drachma before plucking it from the air and slipping it into her pocket, winking at Battle. "Such a gentleman," she said. She looked at the clock and gasped. "Goodness where has the time gone? I was supposed to meet the girls for the picnic ten minutes ago!" She looked at Battle. "I'll have to start on some other time. I have to go." "Understandable," Battle said, walking for the door. "I shall see you at a later date then." "Yes, right. Goodbye!" Rarity cried as she flew out the door. Battle followed after her and shook his head.