13 – The Right of Lunar Blood
Word of the challenge between Fine Crime and Nibbling Fang had spread like wildfire throughout Tidal. The thestrals were placing bets, and Fluttershy suspected she knew who they thought would win.
Worse, however, was the news of Elder Candid’s actions and the Night Eye warriors’ infiltration during the celebrations. It rapidly became clear that the elder was seen as a traitor by many of the locals. Fluttershy didn’t blame them for feeling that way, but she still felt a twinge of guilt when she heard the mean things said about him; he was only doing what he believed was right. Being wrong in that regard didn't make him bad. The knowledge that most of the town seemed to be on the side of the ponies didn’t alleviate her worries. The portion who had bought into Elder Candid’s and Fang’s opinion of things were greatly outnumbered, but were plentiful enough that Fluttershy feared what could be coming.
At least there had been no fighting yet. In fact, the Night Eye ponies were given lodgings in the old city’s outer edges, and Elder Evergreen had left the city to meet with the remaining warriors stationed in the north. What he hoped to accomplish Fluttershy couldn’t say, but she was glad the elder going seemed of a calmer sort.
Even with all the sudden changes, the thestrals of Tidal were in high spirits. And why not? They had their princess back after a millennium. They deserved to be happy.
But Fluttershy? She was not happy. On the contrary, worry gnawed at her insides like Angel gnawed on those candied carrots from BonBon’s. She walked through the corridors of one of the city’s smaller buildings, casting her gaze about the dark rooms. Her lips were set in a thin line, her brow furrowed, her tail swished in agitation. The golden glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows, highlighting the dust that floated in the still air.
She found him in a large back room, performing a complex series of exercises. Fluttershy had seen Fine train before, but only once. Like then, his expression was hard and his movements fluid, the occasional thrust or kick darting through the air like liquid. She stood in the doorway, watching as he worked up a sweat. If he noticed her presence, he gave no indication of it.
Fine’s routine ended. He stood tall and sucked in a few slow, carefully controlled breaths, then wiped the sweat from his brow. Only then did he turn to her. “By your expression, I don’t think you’re here to cheer me on.”
Fluttershy tried to keep her voice firm. “I came to make sure you didn’t make a mistake tomorrow.”
His eyebrows rose. “What kind of mistake?”
She sat and rubbed her hooves together. Despite the nervous act, she held Fine’s gaze. “This plan of yours. It’s… risky.”
With a smug smile and a wave of his hoof, he replied, “You’ll be perfectly okay. Rainbow and Polar Aim will be with you.”
Fluttershy heaved a sigh; that was just like him. “It’s not me I’m worried about, Fine.” She flinched at his disbelieving frown. “O-okay, maybe I am. A little. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“I hope you’re not worrying about me.” His ears folded back as he pressed a hoof to his chest. “Didn’t you say you believed in my ability to win this fight?”
“I do. That’s the problem.”
His brow shot up for a second time. “Uh… You wanna try explaining that one to me?”
She peered at him, squared her shoulders and nodded. “You’re a fighter, Fine. Not just a fighter, you’re an assassin. What do assassins do?”
Fine rubbed the side of his head, face twisted into an expression of total confusion. “We… uh… kill?”
“And you’re an Archon. No, the Archon!” She pointed an accusing hoof at his face. “You’re going to kill Fang.”
He raised his hooves, but didn’t seem to know what to do with them. His eyes roamed about for a moment, as if he was looking for some clue to a puzzle. At last he shrugged. “I could, yeah.”
Her shoulders slumped and her tone was dry. “You’re not even concerned about this. Why am I not surprised?”
His waved his hoof dismissively. “I’m only going to do it if she makes me.”
“Verity Fine Crime!” Fluttershy stomped and her wings opened wide with a jerk. “You are not going to kill Fang, do you understand me?”
He leaned back, face slack, but recovered quickly. There was the slightest bite to his response. “You’re pretty bossy for a pony who doesn’t want to be the boss.”
“Don’t change the subject!” She took a deep breath, and again. Once her anger had simmered down, she leveled him with a firm look. “Fang was one of the first thestrals we met on this expedition. She’s our friend.”
Fine scoffed. “A friend who wants to cut off my horn. A friend who brought in the soldiers of a rival tribe, effectively betraying her own. A friend who is standing in the way of us completing our mission.”
Fluttershy made a frustrated sound and tossed her mane. “Is that all this is to you? A mission? Another tally in your book?” She stomped a step closer. “We are here for Discord, but we are also trying to make peace with these ponies. Fang has made some mistakes, but she’s only misguided.”
Fine rubbed his forehead with a scowl. “You act as if I like the idea of killing her. I assure you, I intend to do everything I can to keep away from that scenario. But Fluttershy, she’s a Honed Wing, and that makes her an icon amongst the thestrals. If I let her win because of your feelings on the matter, a lot more will be lost than our mission. Others will see it as a sign that she’s right, and that’ll make your precious peace process all the harder.”
“Princess Luna can help us fix that.”
“Just like she’ll be able to fix it if I’m forced to defend myself lethally.”
Fluttershy stared at him, her anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Yet the more she thought on the situation, the more she understood. Gradually, her frustration gave way to pity and disappointment. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
He tilted his head one way, then another. Yet again, his eyes roamed the room. At last, he asked, “Get what?”
She wondered if there was any point in answering. “Fine, have you no concept of harmony?”
“Harmony?” He spoke the word as if it were from some alien dialect.
“As I thought.” She turned away with a sigh. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Fine, has it ever occurred to you that killing might be wrong in and of itself?”
Seconds passed in silence. She knew that simple line wouldn’t be enough to get through to him, but—
“Don’t you dare lecture me on the morality of killing.”
With a blink, she turned back… only to recoil at the vicious glare that was mere inches from her face.
He snorted, steam heating her muzzle. “Think about who you’re talking to, Fluttershy. I stood over my father’s bed and took pleasure in the thought of smothering him with a pillow. I spent years wandering the world looking for more blood to spill. The first serious friend I ever had was also the first pony I murdered, and I did it by shoving this—” He tapped his horn, “into her windpipe. I spent my entire life hating what I was. So yes, Fluttershy, I am intimately aware of how wrong it is, and how wrong it can feel to do it.”
He finally stepped away, and Fluttershy remembered to breathe. When he looked away, it was like a spell had been removed from her body, and she broke into shivers. For the first time since helping him overcome his curse, she truly recalled how scary he could be.
“There’s more to me than blood and violence,” he hissed, his hard gaze set on the wall. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.”
Gradually, Fluttershy’s anxiety faded into background noise. As it did, she took a tentative step closer. When he didn’t react, she reached up to touch his shoulder. “Fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just worried about you. I know this duel was my idea, but you tend to take things like this to the extreme. Don’t you want to get better?”
“Better is a relative term.” But then he deflated, body sagging and chin nearly touching the floor. “Yes, Fluttershy, in some ways, I do. But I will never be that innocent pony you think I should be, and I will never be able to completely give up my ways. I'm sorry for that too.”
They were silent for a while, sitting side by side and staring at the wall. Or the floor. Or the ceiling. Anywhere but at one another. Fluttershy longed to find a way to bridge the gap between them and really help Fine recover from his past. She knew she wouldn’t get through to him today, but she’d at least hoped…
Hesitantly, she nudged his shoulder with her cheek. “So… Um… P-promise not to kill Fang?”
He gave a weak smile. “Yeah, sure. Pinkie promise.” He even went through the motions, ending with a hoof over his eye. Seeing him perform the foalish act for the first time made her giggle, which may have been the point.
His smile grew, but only a little. Then, abruptly, some pink reached his cheeks and he looked away. “Um… Fluttershy?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks,” he whispered. “For, y’know, trying. I know I don’t make it easy.”
She smiled in turn and patted his shoulder. “You’re a long-term project, Fine, but I haven’t given up on you yet.”
His expression grew wry. “Good to know.” Then the nervousness came back, and he began to shuffle in place. “Y’know, I had planned on doing something for the fight. Now that I look back, I don’t think you’d have appreciated it.”
“Oh?” She cocked her head. “Like what?”
He flinched away as if she’d snapped at him. “F-forget it, it was dumb.” Still unable to meet her gaze, he hesitated before speaking again. “I… I mean… After. Y-yeah. When this is all done and we’ve dealt with the gargoyles, I had something I wanted to tell you.”
She turned to him. “Why not just tell me now?”
The pink in his cheeks bloomed and he ducked his head away from her. “No. No, I… No. Not yet. Right?”
She raised an eyebrow and took in his uncharacteristic posture. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” He took a deep breath, and another. “Okay. Before we leave Tidal to go home, I’ll tell you. Good?”
She leaned a little closer, trying to study his face, but he refused to give her a good view. “Fine, are you alright?”
“Of course I am!” He gave an exaggerated yawn, stretched, then turned away. “W-well, we’ve got an exciting day ahead of us. Best to hit the hay now, right? See you later, Fluttershy.”
She watched him go, his tail tucked and his steps quick. Was he… running away? Fluttershy was convinced she’d never seen such a strange display of behavior from the stallion, and was tempted to follow after him. After a few seconds of consideration, however, she threw the idea away.
It may just be that Fine was forever beyond her comprehension.
Fine Crime had butterflies on the mind. They were by no means conducive to being in a battle-ready mentality. He’d come so close to spilling his guts to Fluttershy the evening before. Too close; now wasn’t the time to entertain romantic fantasies.
But he’d committed himself. He’d resolved to tell her afterwards. It made sense, didn’t it? Telling her now would only make her worry, and that was the last thing either of them needed. So, even though she had tantalized his dreams the night before, Fine shook his head and forced wayward thoughts of Fluttershy from his mind.
The Arena of Treebeards was nestled in the hills above the city. And above it, just barely visible through the treeline, was the Temple of Tides. What appeared to be a dried up riverbed ran down the slopes, overgrown with small shrubbery but still distinct. The riverbed reached all the way to the base of the arena before splitting in two paths going north and south. Were the river flowing properly, the arena would have formed the very tip of the land that split it.
As for the Arena, it appeared to have been built with a Tyrant Tree as its architectural lynchpin. The tree itself was little more than a stump now, albeit a stump several stories high and as broad as a small building. A path had been cut through its middle, leading directly into the arena, the walls of which had been built to begin at the stump. Judging by the pale colors of the wood that formed the outer walls, Fine suspected that the Arena had been built from the wood of the tree itself.
While nothing compared to the sporting centers of Equestria – or Gallopea; the horses apparently had a ‘thing’ for massive entertainment centers – the Arena was larger than any of the buildings in the ruins of Tidal. It appeared relatively new too. Fine was no expert on such things, but he estimated the structure to be only a few centuries old.
Thestrals flocked to the structure en mass, streaming in by hoof and by air. More than a few cheered for him as they passed. He took their support stoically, but the sight of so many not holding ill will left him relieved. Fine had feared that Fang and Elder Candid would have tried to spread their influence around throughout the night. Perhaps they did, and had been ignored.
That wasn’t to say there weren’t some dark looks out there. Every now and then, a group would pass that eyed him as if he were planning to snatch away their foals. He was tempted to snap his teeth at them, just to see if they’d scatter.
The soldiers of the Night Eye tribe moved through the crowds. The citizens of Tidal kept their distance from the ever-armored warriors, who in turn moved cautiously as if prepared for an attack at any moment. If Fine regretted anything so far, it was that he’d not had a chance to speak to some of them. After all, learning the source of this visible animosity would have gone a long way to finding out how to diffuse the situation between the tribes. Luna would like having that information.
As would Fluttershy. Perhaps she’d already tried?
With another fierce shake of the head, he focused his mind on studying the Night Eye soldiers. He noted how they moved together, but not in unison. They didn’t march like Royal Guards, or keep in line like a flight of griffons. They didn’t even maintain a steady perimeter like the minotaurs. They seemed disorganized at best, chaotic at worst. Now that he thought on it, the Guardian Tribe’s warriors hadn’t been much better while guiding them to the city.
Fine stored these thoughts in his brain, instructing himself to write them down later. Such observations would be priceless for the military types back home.
“Fine?”
Jarred from his observations, he turned to find Pinkie standing next to him. He smiled, silently congratulating her on once again getting the jump on him. “Hey, Pinkie. Is everypony ready?”
“Polar said we could go at a moment’s notice.” She dug her hooves in the ground and chewed her lip. “Fine, do you have to do this?”
With a roll of his eyes, he lightly pulled on her leg, and the two merged with the crowd. “You can tell Fluttershy not to worry, I’m not going to kill Fang.”
“It’s not Fang I’m worried about.”
Fine flinched and pressed a hoof to his chest. “Hey, that hurts! Don’t you have faith in me?”
She looked at him, head low to the ground. The concern in her gaze was enough to make him lose his smile. “It hasn’t gone away.”
“You mean the doozy.” He sighed and leaned a little closer. “Do you at least have a better idea of what’s causing it?”
She shook her head. “No, and that scares me more than anything. What if it’s something that happens in the fight?”
Fine wanted to tell her she was overreacting. He would have liked to have shown confidence in the face of her doubt and suggest she stay positive. As he looked into her blue eyes, however, he realized that saying such things would do her no good. On the contrary, they’d be insulting. She wasn’t needlessly concerned, and nopony would know that better than her.
“Pinkie, I…” He held his tongue, scouring his brain for the right words. “I’ll be careful.” He barely avoided a grimace; that hadn’t sounded at all as good as he’d hoped.
Her stare drifted to the ground. They walked in silence for a little while before she spoke up. “I know you will. You’re always careful.”
They were approaching the arena gates, and stopped amidst the crowd of thestrals. Fine studied Pinkie, a wave of guilt washing over him. He liked to think he’d developed an understanding of her, but this was not what he was accustomed to. A laughing Pinkie he could roll with. A smiling Pinkie was easy. Pinkamina was an entirely different creature, but still easy to be around. Easiest, in fact.
Whatever was going on with Pinkie now, however, was beyond his capacity. He knew the usual methods would prove useless, but had no idea how to approach the situation. There weren’t many things that made Fine nervous, but trying to console a distraught friend was on that list.
Abruptly, Pinkie leaned into him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He froze, his eyes darting about wildly. “Uh, Pinkie?”
Just as soon as the contact started, it was over and Pinkie was retreating into the crowd. She didn’t so much as cast him a parting glance.
Fine stared after her until she disappeared from sight. Then he looked down at his shoulder. It hadn’t even had time to get warm from contact, and yet he could still… ‘feel’ her touch. “Oooh… kay?”
It may just be that Pinkie was forever beyond his comprehension.
Fine had anticipated an open ring. He’d only be right in terms of the shape.
The Treebeard Arena was divided into three sections. Along the center ran a sunken valley, just low enough that he couldn’t see over the slopes to his left and right. Those slopes were such that climbing them would require effort, but not so steep as to be insurmountable for the average pony. This valley was the smallest of the three sections, and Fine could see that, were the riverbank he’d noticed before still flowing, the valley would have been filled with water.
To his left was a half-circle of land covered in tall columns of varying heights and widths. They did not appear to be placed with any rhyme or reason. Perhaps they were meant to resemble a forest? The columns were all made of the same wood as the arena, and sported a range of gouges, black marks and dents. To the right was an equally-sized half-moon of land that possessed no columns. Instead, the terrain included a rough collection of hills.
He’d been certain that the thestrals would want to see a direct confrontation with nothing but hooves and physical prowess. In the sense that he couldn’t use his horn and Fang couldn’t use her wings, this was true. Yet, with the terrain being what it was, it seemed they valued tactical skill as much as physical prowess. He couldn’t complain; this made things easier for him.
Or so he hoped.
From his place within the valley, Fine couldn’t see the lower stands, but the upper stands of the arena were filled to their limits. The hum of chatter filled the air as the crowds awaited the first fight between a thestral and another equine race in centuries. Just above the wall opposite Fine was a viewing box, where Elder Iron stood. Four other viewing boxes, all equally spaced apart, gave each one of the other four elders a view of the fight. With so many official eyes from so many angles, combatants had little chance of doing something illegal without the risk being caught in the act.
Except that Fine knew one box to be empty, for Elder Evergreen had yet to return from his visit with the Night Eye camps to the north. Though he couldn’t see it, Fine knew which box it was, and he was sure to keep it in mind. Fang struck him as the type to fight fair, but he wasn’t about to trust her to stay that way if things got heated. He wasn’t above a little foul play, himself… but only if she started it.
Fine was tempted to rear back and look over the slope of the valley to check on his friends. He knew they were situated just beneath Sera’s box. He abandoned the idea in favor of keeping his eyes on Fang, who stood opposite him beside the gate that once let water flow into the valley. He thought it better to maintain an air of focus and an aura of menace. No matter what he told Fluttershy about not killing his opponent, it wouldn’t stop him from making her think he would. Intimidation had its place.
A hush fell over the arena, and both Fine and Fang looked up. A second later, Elder Bright Eyes appeared, hovering over the center of the valley. Fine mentally braced as the elder spoke with enough volume to undoubtedly reach every perked ear.
“Combatants, today’s fight has few rules.” He turned his head to Fang— “There will be no flying.” —then to Fine. “And there will be no magic. If either combatant is believed to have broken these rules, they will be disqualified. The fight will continue until one of you gives up, can no longer fight, or the Elders in attendance call for a cessation. Let it be known that there are no restrictions regarding safety and lethal means are permitted, so if either combatant wishes to back out, I recommend they do so now.”
He turned to fully face Fine’s opponent. “Nibbling Fang?”
Fang drug her hoof across the dirt and snorted, already in a combative stance. “I would never back down from a challenge, Elder. I am ready!” Her words were met by cheering from the crowds, which didn’t surprise Fine in the least. Who could blame them for rooting for the home team?
Bright Eyes nodded, then turned to him. “Fine Crime?”
Fine Crime looked to the elder, then to Fang. He narrowed his eyes and set his shoulders. He made no attempt to raise his voice. “Ready.” Despite his doubt that any in the arena heard him, there still came a great cheer to rival Fang’s. This startled Fine, but he chose not to dwell on it; he had a fight to win.
Another nod from the elder. Bright Eyes spoke once more.
“Let the conditions of the Right of Lunar Blood be known and recognized! Should Nibbling Fang be victorious, she shall claim Fine Crime’s horn as a prize. Furthermore, all ponies currently present within the Wilds must immediately vacate the premise and return to their own lands, and none shall be permitted to return.
“Should Fine Crime win, he and his companions will be permitted to visit the sacred Temple of Tides, and Nibbling Fang will accompany them to the land of Equestria to meet with their rulers, the Princesses Celestia and Luna!”
Upon hearing Luna’s name, the thestrals in the stands all but exploded with cheering and shouting. Fine, in the meantime, couldn’t help but think that his demands on Fang were not just lenient, but an outright gift. Too bad she didn’t see it in the same way. Yet.
“Combatants, begin!”
Fang started at a walk, which became a trot, then a canter, then an all-out gallop. Fine, on the other hoof, wasted no time turning to climb up the slope to his right. He’d already arranged his strategy according to what he knew, and what he knew was that he’d have a hard time taking on the bulkier, stronger thestral in a direct confrontation. He had speed on his side, and he intended to use it.
He reached the top easily. He glanced back to find Fang already halfway up the slope despite the fact she was running along it. She smiled in a way that spoke of confidence; he intended to rectify that quickly. He started galloping up the steepest incline he could see, measuring his pace. Fang was catching up quickly. His timing would have to be just right…
The moment Fine was over the top of the hill, he planted his front hooves in the dirt and raised his hind legs. Not a second later, Fang crested the slope, and he bucked. He was sure she’d see it coming, but she would dodge, and then—
Fine gasped as pain coursed through his bones. Fang hadn’t dodged, she’d reared up to block with her forelegs! It was as if he had bucked a Tyrant Tree, and his opponent hardly moved from the impact.
With no time to think, Fine shifted his weight forward and rolled down the hill. He came out of the roll with ease, turned and felt a surge of alarm that she was already halfway to him! She leapt, right foreleg raised to deliver a crushing blow. He responded by ducking under and bringing his own foreleg up in a counterstrike.
He might as well have tried to punch bricks. His hoof hit her chest, and then her chest smashed into his shoulder. Fine barely had time to jerk his backside left to avoid being trapped under her weight, but the result was him twisting in the air and falling to the ground on his barrel. By the time he got to his hooves, she had already turned to face him.
Fang snorted and lowered for another charge. “Is that all you’ve got, bonehead? I’ve faced little old mares with more bang in their buck.”
This was bad. Fine had anticipated Fang being more strategic than going at him hooves blazing. And that strength! He thought back on his previous battle with her and her claim that she and Polar hadn’t been attacking them. Looking at things now, he suddenly believed it; why go all out on somepony you were trying to keep from making a big mistake?
Fang wasn’t fighting him in an odd attempt to help. This time, she was serious, and the implications of that cast a shadow over his confidence.
“Stop thinking and start fighting!” Fang was on him, reared up and throwing punches. Fine focused on her attacks, knowing he could outpace her. Even one hit would be costly, but he could dodge well enough. If he could land a few blows, get a feel for her weaknesses…
Except she didn’t seem to have any. Fine threw punch after punch, but where Fang’s offense was slow, her defense was near perfect. They circled one another, always on their hind legs while their forelegs swung, jabbed, blocked and countered. Once again, he recalled their last fight; he’d not been able to get an edge on her then, either. He needed to rethink his strategy, come up with—
Whap.
His head jerked sideways, his concentration shattered. By the time he’d refocused on his opponent, it was too late to avoid a strike to the chest. It was like getting smashed by a sledgehammer, and the second blow was no gentler. The three-hit combination unbalanced him, making him lean dangerously backwards. There was no time to recover, and Fang finished the attack with a shove of her shoulder.
Fine fell on his back, mind scrambling to figure out what had just happened even as he scrambled to his hooves. His eyes had been on her forelegs! How had she—
Whapwhap!
A strike on his right shoulder, then to his jaw from the left, and Fang was crouched low. He had no time to stop her from delivering an uppercut that snapped his neck back.
Wings. She was using the leading edges of her wings! No pegasus would have tried something like that.
Fang had reared up and spun in place during her uppercut, and now her back was to him. He readied a strike, only for her left wing to swing back like a whip and catch him under his raised leg. They weren’t strong strikes, but they still hurt like hay. He blocked the right wing’s follow up attack, wincing at the sting it left to his foreleg. Too late, he noticed her dropping to all fours. His backwards jump deadened the blow of her buck, but he still questioned if one of his ribs might have been broken.
This was going downhill with startling speed, but Fine knew how to think on his hooves, and already he saw an opportunity. It was risky, but he didn’t see any other weaknesses in his opponent. She wanted to use her wings, he’d make her pay the price. But he couldn’t go for them directly, they were too fast.
He needed a terrain advantage.
She came at him again, but this time Fine charged. Fang grimaced but didn’t hesitate. Just as they were about to collide, Fine darted sideways. His superior speed would—
Her hind leg shot out, landing a solid hoofstrike on his shoulder. It really was like getting hit by a sledgehammer! Fine tumbled sideways, momentarily startled by the fact she could hit that hard at such an unnatural angle of attack – while in full gallop. Shaking off the pain and his disbelief, he turned the tumble into a roll and was back on his hooves in an instant. No standing his ground this time; he ran for the valley like his life depended on it. He was reasonably certain it did.
“Where do you think you’re going, pony?”
Fine’s legs pounded the dirt as he wove through the steep hills. His blood pounded in his ears and his body ached all over, but he hadn’t lost yet. Being physically outmatched merely called for some adjustment in—
His body jerked to a stop, legs flailing as something gave his tail a tug. For Luna's sake, could she also outrun him? So much for the speed advantage. Snarling, Fine spun around to strike, only to have his blow easily blocked. Fang tried to counter, but Fine slipped sideways to dodge and caught her leg under his own. He put all his weight into his back before she could pull away, and the two went flipping over the valley’s edge.
They rolled together, bouncing and snarling and kicking the whole way. They hit the bottom with Fang on her back and Fine on top of her, but she carried the landing into a roll and removed him with a powerful, four-legged kick. Fine hit the dirt on his side, world spinning and body throbbing. There was no sugarcoating it that time; she’d gotten far more hits in on him during that fall. With a groan, he climbed to his hooves.
Fang got up just as slowly, but her expression was as calm as it was hard, and she didn’t seem even winded. Fine knew he’d underestimated her, but this was getting ridiculous!
“Not so easy when I’m actually trying, is it?” Fang paced back and forth like a predator savoring the hunt. “Just give up. I’ll have that horn eventually.” There was no smile on her lips and no pleasantness in her tone; only hard, cold certainty.
He stayed in place, taking slow, deep breaths. “Your precious Night Mother sent me here to do a job. I won’t quit just because it got hard.”
Her response came like a flaming whip. “Do not speak of her! I’m giving you a chance to come out of this alive, bonehead. Don’t tempt me to take the offer back.”
With one more long breath, Fine felt ready for the next step of his struggling plan. “You want my horn?” He stepped back, closer to the valley wall. “Come and take it.”
With a snort, she started forward. Fine moved as fast as he could, snatching up some dirt and rocks from the slope and tossing it at her face. Fang’s leathery wings came forward in a makeshift shield. By the time she pulled them back, he was already near the top of the slope.
“You coward!”
Fine grimaced, knowing he’d be cutting it close. He pushed as much speed out of his legs as he could and went for the largest column that he felt was in range. He slipped behind it and swiftly lined his body up appropriately… then went stone still. With carefully controlled breathing and ears perked, he waited.
A second later, Fang let out a growl. “What, you’re hiding now? Buck it, I’m just gonna rip it off.”
Fine repositioned himself as the origin of her voice moved. Once sure it was safe, he moved at a silent canter to another column, going deeper into the artificial forest. Safely hidden, he listened intently to the sound of her hoofsteps.
“You’re pathetic, Fine. I had hoped you’d give me a proper challenge, but this? You don’t deserve to even speak the Night Mother’s name.”
Her anger gave him pause. It was the signal that things were about to come to an end. Fang was done with this fight; the next time they exchanged blows, she’d be going for the kill. He had to suppress a growl at the thought. He was in legitimate danger, but there was no fear in this moment.
“You know thestrals are adept hunters, right? This won’t take long.”
His ears perked to the sound of sniffing. Could she really detect him by scent? Recognizing her movements as getting closer, he timed himself and trotted for another column.
Fine sucked down another deep breath, feeling his heart beating within his stinging chest. No… Not fear. What he felt was something deeper, something he’d abandoned, something even being cured couldn’t take away. It was violence, and the desire to produce it. He tapped into that urge now, lips pulling back and gaze narrowing. The pain in his body fed the flame, but he kept it back. Not too much. Control the menace within, not the other way around.
Fine didn’t have visions anymore.
He was the master of his violence.
“I’ve got you, bonehead.”
He whipped around the column, and Fang’s hoof was waiting for him. He took it on and was rewarded with a powerful blow to the chin. His head jerked left, her wing came up to meet it—
Fine caught the wing in both hooves and, with a growl of effort, pressed it against the tree. Fang cried out and delivered a hoofstrike to the back of his head, and Fine saw stars. It wasn’t enough; with one leg still pinning the wing, his other slammed down on the exposed humerus. The bone snapped like a twig, and Fang shrieked.
He caught the loose appendage tightly between his left leg and chest, and then began slamming her face again and again with his right elbow. Every time he pulled back, he tugged a little on the broken wing, and Fang only screamed more. Tears streamed down her cheeks and blood from her nostrils, and still he kept hitting. Again. Again. Again, again, again.
At last, she managed to hit his jaw with her right hoof. He took the pain and imitated the attack, but didn’t pull away after connecting. Instead, he pushed her head back by the chin, her wing still trapped tightly under his leg. Her jaw clenched and she shrieked through her teeth. She tried to grasp his leg with one hoof and strike it from below with the other, a maneuver that surely would have broken it had he not locked it at a sharp angle; all she managed to do was press his hoof more tightly to her chin and stretch her wing out even further.
Fine could feel his lips curling into a toothy smile, felt his adrenaline pumping, his heart pounding. The world began to turn red, and he twisted his hold. He could feel the bone shifting under his grip, and her shrieks sent chills down his spine. He knew he was taking it too far, knew that he’d already accomplished what he needed. But by Luna, it felt so good to hear her scream! And the way she begged through those clenched teeth...
Wait… was that her begging? It sounded like…
Like Fluttershy.
That thought was like a slap in the face, and he let Fang’s wing go as if it were made of fire. He backed away, sucking down rapid breaths and forcing his bloodlust down. He wasn’t a monster anymore. He controlled the violence, not the other way around! He thought of Pinkie and her words of warning, he thought of his friends and how hard they’d worked to give him back his freedom. And Fluttershy. He’d promised not to kill Fang. He couldn’t let the menace within break that promise.
His eyes took in the scene, searching for the source of that voice, but Fluttershy was nowhere to be found. Had he only imagined it as her voice? With one more careful breath, he refocused his attention on his opponent.
Fang was examining her wing, which hung limp in the dirt. Tears, snot and blood covered her face, which had already begun swelling. She looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “My wing. Y-you… my wing.”
It was enough. It had to be enough. “Yield.”
She stared at him as if not know who or what he was. Then, gradually, recognition seeped back into her gaze, followed by anger. She bared her fangs, screamed. The charge came suddenly, her hooves kicking up dirt and her pupils tiny.
Fine was ready. He jumped left, dodged her attempt to catch him in the act, and kicked her loose wing. Fang howled, spun around and tried again. She threw her attacks wildly, with less precision than before. Even so, Fine struggled to keep up with his maneuvers, well aware that a single blow would be enough to end the fight and his life.
With all her efforts set upon offense, her defense was like an open book. Worse, she kept moving to keep her broken wing out of his reach. This made her predictable, and that was something Fine could work with. With a careful feint, he tricked her into moving right, then slipped through her attack to deliver a light blow to the base of her good wing.
Fang snarled and jerked away as if his hoof were made of molten metal, clearly intent on keeping one of her wings intact. Fine predicted, twisted and stomped a hind leg on her dragging right wing. She screamed, likely more out of fear than pain, and jerked in the opposite direction once more. Fine’s elbow met her face halfway, right over the eye.
She reeled from the blow, her cry weak. She sounded out of breath. He freed her wing, stepped forward with her backstep, and swung his other hoof. Her movements were sloppy, her strength waning; she was only able to block three times before he got through with a straight against her already-broken muzzle. Blood flew.
He backed off, breathing heavy, body low for another attack. Fang’s legs shook, her eye had swollen shut, and blood dripped off her chin. She reached a trembling hoof up to wipe at her lips, then stared at her bloodstained leg with one wide eye. Her breathing heavy, she let the hoof drop and turned her gaze upon Fine. For a moment, he thought she would speak, but her mouth finally closed.
There came the flapping of wings, and then Sera was standing between them. The elder approached her niece slowly as Fang bowed her head.
“Fang? There’s no shame. You fought well. Please, don’t let this go any further.”
Fine relaxed and stepped back. Slowly, he let the tension out of his legs.
“I…” Fang’s voice sounded so feeble. She wouldn’t look at her aunt. “I only wanted…”
“I know,” Sera whispered, so quiet he almost didn’t hear. “I’m proud of you, Fang. I’m sure your father will be, too. But it’s over now. Concede the fight. Please.”
Fang leaned over a little, her lost gaze going to Fine. He watched her solemnly, having no intention of butting in on this moment.
“B-but he’s… I can’t just…”
Sera touched Fang’s shoulder, producing a wince from the young thestral. “Fang, you’re hurt bad. If we don’t take care of your wing immediately, the damage could be permanent. It’s okay to lose your pride. It’s not okay to lose your value to your tribe.”
Fang whimpered, her doe-like stare going to her aunt’s face. She rubbed her chin yet again, closed her eyes and shook from ear to hoof. At last, she bowed her head and nodded.
“I… I c-concede the fight.”
Sera embraced her, albeit gently. “Okay. Okay, Fang. I’m so proud. The Night Mother smiles on you this day.”
Seconds passed. Slowly, Fang returned the embrace. As she did, Sera raised her head high and called out, “Nibbling Fang has conceded the fight. Fine Crime is the winner.”
“No!”
Fine recognized the voice, and leapt forward just in time to avoid a flung spear. He stood before Sera and spun about as Elder Candid and his Night Eye allies began landing in the arena.
Sera held her wounded niece close and glared at the newcomers. “The fight is over, Candid! We must honor the Right of Lunar Blood.”
Candid snarled, his wings spread wide and fangs bared. “I only agreed to it because I was confident of victory! But since a Honed Wing wasn’t good enough to do the job, it looks as though we’ll have to do it ourselves.”
More wingbeats, and Elders Iron and Bright Eyes were on either side of Fine.
“Don’t do this, Candid,” Bright Eyes said. “You’re about to start something that can’t be taken back.”
Even as he spoke, Iron raised a hoof high, and Guardian Tribe warriors began to land around them. “This is stupid, Candid. There’s no need to let things escalate.”
“Oh, I think there is.” Candid scraped the dirt, his eyes not leaving Fine. “This fiend has insulted the Night Mother, and his victory here only proves how real the threat is. We must make of him and his friends a lesson the other Sun-worshipping bastards will never forget.”
Fine lowered into a fighting stance once more. He had no restrictions this time, and an army of thestrals on his side. Though his body ached all over and sweat dripped from his brow, he was ready to do his part.
“Take Fang.”
He blinked and glanced to his side. Sera stood there, her wings spread and her expression hard. “Take her out of here. Get her some medical help. We’ll deal with this.”
Fine shook his head. “I can still fight.”
“You’ve already fought,” Iron said, his eyes not leaving Candid. A quick glance revealed some of Tidal’s warriors slipping into the ranks of the Night Eye soldiers, bolstering their numbers slightly. “You did well, Crime. Let us take care of the rest.”
Fine looked from Sera to Iron to Candid. He grimaced upon realizing just how big a fight this was going to be. “This is happening because of us.”
“Damn it, son, just go,” Bright Eyes hissed. “This is a thestral affair! Besides, we can’t very well greet the Night Mother by telling her one of her agents got killed, can we? Go on, git.”
For once, Fine was struck by indecision. He could see their point, and he was pretty beat up, but at the same time…
A hoof on his shoulder brought his attention to Sera. She looked at him out of the corner of her narrow eyes. “Get Fang out,” she whispered. “You want to take responsibility? Take responsibility for her. Now.”
He looked back to find Fang sitting behind them, her body low and shaking. She wavered, knees buckling as she watched the scene unfold in alarm. She appeared so much more vulnerable than the thestral he’d come to know.
With a sigh, he turned to Sera. “Alright. I’ll see that she’s safe.”
“You do that.”
“Hold on.” Candid shouted as Fine walked away. “Stop him! Blood and bloody fangs, don’t let him leave this city alive!”
Hooves thundered in the dirt. Shouts filled the air along with kicked up dust. Fine picked up speed and, before Fang could so much as cry out, he’d set her on his back and was running away from the battle. He cursed with every step, hating that he’d been forced to let the elders and their loyalists clean up his mess. The practical side of him said it was the right decision under the circumstances. That didn’t mean he had to like it.
Fang didn’t speak. Her head bobbed just over his shoulder and her legs held him weakly. She weighed as much as she looked, though, and Fine was forced to slow to a trot by the time he reached the arena exit. He paused just long enough to look back. All he saw was a cloud of dirt.
He turned his eyes to the stands. They were rapidly emptying as civilians fled. Smaller groups of thestrals were fighting throughout the stands, revealing that not everypony had made it into the arena before finding an opponent. Fine took comfort in two things: first, that there seemed far fewer thestrals on Candid’s side.
Second, he didn’t see hoof nor tail of his friends.
He left the arena, hoping that was a sign that everything was still going according to plan.
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So a small civil war is starting. I wonder if Pinkie will be needed to help Fine Crime...
Great job with the fight scene. It's often easy, especially in this genre, to lean on spectacle for action scenes, when oftentimes fisticuffs can be just as gripping.
If I said anything negative about Fang, I take it back. While she did need a whack in the back of her head, Candid is a bitter old coot who would probably spit on Luna herself because "not MY Night Mother".