Mystery of the Draconics

by Wanderwing

The Warrior's Test

That night was a very strange one; I had many dreams. Most were fairly positive and filled with wonder. I couldn’t wait to see what those books held, and now I had an entire library of information to go back to. Several were of a more…*cough* personal nature, involving Falling Star, and I won’t get into that now.

There were also a few dreams that felt more like warnings than anything else. I was reminded that none of the Draconic Tomes came without a test, and somehow I doubted the Druid’s puzzle box counted for the Tome of the Warriors. I knew that combat would be involved, a bit obvious really, and the word “Duel” flashed through my mind.

I woke up at dawn, crept out of the inn as I often do, and flew off to my cave in the forest. If I was going to have a duel I certainly wasn’t going to let myself get out of practice. I got to the cave but found I couldn’t focus on training with the books calling to me from my bag.

I walked over to the table in the corner I had set my bag on and opened it. I grabbed the Tome of the Warriors, my thirst for knowledge too great to ignore. As I opened it a small flash burst from the pages. I looked ahead through the book and found every page after the first few empty.

Just like my book the first pages were host to an author list. The list was much longer however; this book had clearly changed hooves much more often. I turned the pages past the author list, and found much like the picture within the Scholar tome a beautifully artistic picture of a draconic clad in ornate battle armor standing strong before a charging line of shadowy figures, a sword clenched in his teeth.

I turned the page once again and reached the mission statement page. I noted it was also written in the same looping script as both covers. This reaffirmed my theory that the tomes came from the same source, and likely the same craftspony.

The page read, “This is the Tome of the Warriors, our clan values strength and survival above all. All who hold this book are honor bound to entrust within it their training methods, and any combat tactics they learn. The book will grow as it is needed. This book can not be passed simply through inheritance or theft, those who attempt this shall still face a test. The previous holder of the book will appear to you, this holds true even if the previous holder has left this existence. To use the book you must defeat the previous owner in single combat. Through this method only the strongest shall hold the book for long. Holding the other tomes may increase your chances but without strength all else is meaningless. To begin the duel, should you have crave its secrets but have not earned them, gaze into the eye on the cover and speak these words, ‘I claim the trial of single combat, I shall face you honorably but on my own terms as is the challenger’s right. No escape shall be permitted, none can flee this fight. Stand and speak.’ At the end of the words you must say the name of the last holder; you can find it as the most recent entry upon the author list.”

This wasn’t going to be an easy fight. Anypony who had earned this book could study it and learn from the techniques of dozens of great warriors before them. These techniques could obviously help me grow stronger; maybe even teach me something entirely new. I live for knowledge after all, and any knowledge helps. I would need to risk myself to earn it though. I turned the page back to the most recent author, and found that the last holder was named simply enough. Their name was Whirling Winds.

Excellent, another pony who could fly would put us on even ground, as it were. It also meant I would be allowed to fly during the duel. The terms needed to be fair after all. I had a quick drink and a light meal, and then went outside to decide on my terms.

I was not any sort of weapons specialist by any means. I usually just relied on my own hooves and when necessary my flames. The thought occurred to me then, what if unlike me, the pony I was fighting was not a draconic? I would then not be permitted my flames during the duel. I realized then my weapons skills were far too limited, if I won the duel however I was positive I would find tips on a few different fighting styles.

I sighed and stood up. There was no point in putting it off any longer. I flipped the book back to its cover and gazed into its ruby eye. I took a deep breath and spoke the words, “I claim the trial of single combat, I shall face you honorably but on my own terms as is the challenger’s right. No escape shall be permitted, none can flee this fight. Stand and speak, Whirling Winds!”

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” A feminine voice called from the book.

“I am Wanderwing, and I seek the knowledge your tome holds,” I answered. A light flashed brightly in front of me. When the light faded a strange image appeared across the book from me. She stood just a few inches shorter than me and looked quite muscular, though she was definitely not a draconic; her wings had feathers. The thing that made her image strange, though, was that it did not appear solid. I could see objects on the other side of her, as if she had half faded from this world.

“Greetings Wanderwing, I can see you are puzzled so I will explain a few things,” she said, “I earned this tome through honest single combat against a draconic like you. But when I was investigating the Druids, one of them took me by surprise and to my dismay I was killed. He stabbed me in the back! That damned COWARD!” she screamed the last word, clearly frustrated at the circumstances of her death.

“The book held my image, and would not allow one who had earned it through treachery to learn its secrets. He hid it away from the other Druids, convinced he could make it work; he had long envied the Druid’s elder council and hoped to become strong enough to earn a place among them. Then when the convent he lived in was abandoned he gave up on the tome after he had spent nearly ten years wrestling for its secrets. He left it in the library and there it sat, for so very long, until you found it,” she went on, “Which brings us to you, brave draconic. I trust you have read the page about the test?”

“Yes I have, I know I must beat you in single combat but I also know that I can choose the terms of this duel. I would like to select the weapon of bare hooves, flight permitted, and naturally I will not use my flames as you cannot use them yourself,” I answered.

She looked me up and down, and walked around me in a circle. She said, “Are you sure about that? No weapons at all?” she laughed, “I like you kid, fine then, so the fight continues either until one of us speaks the words ‘I concede this fight, you have bested my might’ or until one of us is too battered to even speak. The magic of the tome doesn’t render me invincible; I am still just as vulnerable as if I were flesh, blood, and bone.”

“And you fly just as fast as you did in life?” I asked, she nodded and answered, “Don’t think that makes it easier Wanderwing, I was always one heck of a flyer.”

I walked inside, set the book on the table and came back outside. She stood away from me a few steps, and asked, “Are you ready challenger?” I nodded in response, “Okay, let the duel begin!” she said.

Both of us sprung forward from the ground, and shot upwards. We reached the height of the tops of the trees just as we reached each other. Quick, sharp blows were traded, each of us ducking and dodging as we circled each other. I felt the sharp tip of my right hoof scratch along one of her ribs but just as quickly she struck the side of my muzzle with a deceptive amount of force.

Blinking from the pain, I spun away from her, retreating from her to regain my flight pattern. There was enough time to build up a run of speed but not for long, she darted straight for me with an incredible speed. By rolling to the side I dodged her advance, and she couldn’t stop or turn fast enough to reach me.

I flew up above her and dove down, aiming to strike between her wings, a blow that would easily defeat your average pegasus. She anticipated this however and made the one move I never would have expected, she stopped flapping her wings and flattened them against her body, falling even faster than my dive. Her wings pulled her up mere inches from the ground and returned her back to an even height with me.

I couldn’t let her get me on the defensive or I simply couldn’t beat her, somehow as a pegasus she was even faster than me, and she hit harder too. She laughed and called “Well you didn’t expect this to be easy did you?”

“Of course not, I can’t wait to learn how you got this fast. I guess I’ll know once I beat you!” I answered. Dashing straight at her, one hoof extended, I intended to strike her in the rib I had scratched in the first struggle, wanting to end this fight as quickly as possible. Somehow, though, my attack didn’t connect. It was as if a force had swept it aside.

“What… how?!” I stammered. That moment left me far to exposed, and Winds drove a hoof into my gut, spun quickly and bucked my side. As I fell I began coughing up blood, but somehow I managed to keep my descent slow. All I could think of was how she had blocked that attack. She didn’t even touch me or seem to move, it was as if my hoof moved to avoid her.

My hooves touched down, but before I even had a minute to recover Whirling Winds had swept around again, coming in to deliver the finishing blow. That was when I saw it; it was hard to see before because of her transparency, but her wings were moving differently than mine. They seemed to have a wider swinging circle of movement. Jumping backwards I began to take off again.

Normally in a fight my stamina outlasts a pegasus, but I doubted that would apply here. Slowed as I was by my wounds, I couldn’t hope to fly fast enough to catch her by surprise. Looking back to her wings again, I realized how she had blocked my strike, and it was that she hadn’t. She had incredible control of the wind during flight; she had learned to manipulate the tiny whirlwinds formed by her wing movements! She merely changed my course using her precise control!

I grinned through my pained expression, as a plan began to form in my mind. She dashed right towards me, but this time I knew what she was doing. I shifted my wing movements to try and match hers, and my flight was eased. I clearly hadn’t mastered it but it could be just the boost I needed.

With what small wind control I had, I managed to slow her attack just enough for me to squirm out of its way. Countering with a strike of my own, I hit her in the same spot as my first attack. She gasped and I heard her rib crack, and the pointed tip of my hoof cut into the skin around it. She bled a shimmering fluid, a whitish substance I couldn’t identify.

“Looks like you are a fast learner, Wanderwing. Nopony else has picked up on my method before, but let’s see how you handle this,” she gasped through the pain. Her wings flapped even faster, the small air movements she manipulated becoming larger until they were clearly visible. “Time to show you why they call me Whirling Winds!” she yelled.

She turned quickly, first to one side then to the other, and both of the small cyclones sped toward me with an impossible speed. Copying her dive I barely managed to avoid the first but the second swooped downwards and caught me anyway. Around and around I spun, the force nearly tearing my wings.

I was screaming at this point, I am not ashamed to admit it, but it also thrilled me. Unbeknownst to Miss Whirling Winds, my favorite type of weather to fly in is windstorms; this was not my first cyclone ride. This would be very difficult to time but if I pulled it off I might just be able to win this duel here and now.

I noted her position each time the wind pulled me past her. It appeared she wasn’t moving; she was preparing another larger cyclone to catch me while I was trapped. A stronger storm than this one would pose a serious threat. I didn’t have much time, so I worked quickly. Instead of fighting the wind, I joined with it adding my power to its own. Using this influence I was able to syphon some speed from the cyclone into my own flight. Using this boost of speed and power I moved down the cyclone and upon reaching the bottom I was reaching my top speed. I would swing out at just the right angle and use all this extra force I would strike her from the sky.

Finally I broke free, bringing all the force with me in a drill like movement. Becoming almost a cyclone in my own right I drove both my front hooves towards her. She tried to sweep my attack away again but this time I was too fast. The attack toward the ribs was merely a feint, at the last moment I redirected the attack and stuck her left wing at full force.

She screamed in pain as the spirit equivalent of bones shattered in her wing. She began an extremely uncontrollable dive and crashed into the ground. Landing beside her I ran over to where she laid. She groaned and tried to stand but found she couldn’t. “Well Wanderwing, *cough* *cough* it looks like you beat me. It’s a shame you didn’t try your fire, the cyclones work so much better to redirect flames.”

“So then you will concede?” I asked, hoping to see her pain end as quickly as possible. Truly the book’s enchantment was also a curse; to hold a being long dead within it for so very long. When it is finally released, it is still not free and is doomed to fight, and doomed also to only to feel pain from it.

“Yes, I hate to say these words for I know that like the book holder before me, they will be my last. My space in the book will now be held for you, I concede this fight, you have bested my might,” she said. The moment she stopped talking she gave a sigh of relief as the pain faded. Then she followed it, disappearing into whatever lies beyond this plane.

“Sleep well, Whirling Winds,” I said. It took a minute for me to realize, but I then noticed that unlike her wounds, mine hadn’t faded in the least. I would need to walk back to the inn where Warmhearth would have the supplies I needed. Going back into the cave, I clasped my feather folds over my tired wings, wrapped my cloak around myself and hung my pendant over my neck. I put the two books back into my bag and turned to walk back. There would be plenty of time to read them while I rested.

I limped my way back through the forest, fighting through the growing pain in my side and my stomach. I had often taken flight for granted in life, but knew flying was more likely to worsen my injuries. It took me much longer to walk back to the inn than it had to fly to my cave. By the time I had reached the inn I could barely stand from the pain.

Shambling in through the back entrance I looked in through the door to the bar. Thankfully only Warmhearth and Stoic were there, sharing a few drinks and a conversation. I stepped through the door and they both gasped at the sight of me limping and coughing blood.

“Wanderwing, is that you? By unholy Tartarus what happened to you?” Stoic asked, shock and then a mix of concern and rage flashed across his face in rapid succession.

I coughed again and said, “Duel… fought a pegasus, damn strong one.”

Warmhearth took my cloak from me and assessed the damage. She had Stoic lock up the door and the two supported me as I moved into the back room. Warmhearth gently laid her hooves on the three areas where I was hit. Then when I pulled back from her she ran off to find one of the town’s doctors.

I coughed again and then blacked out.