I’m battered and bloodied, bruised all over. Blood mixed with sweat. I can barely stand and my breathing became erratic a while ago. With all these things in mind, I remember something. My opponent’s not doing so hot also. I look at him through my blond mangled mane. He’s taken a lot of damage as well as I.
Our hearts and spirits were put into our weapons and hooves as we fought to our hearts’ content. Now, my sword, stained in the blood of the enemy, seems too heavy to bare now. It seems the same for my formidable foe and his scythe. We drop our weapons and raise our heads. Without uttering a word we relay a message.
Our eyes locked onto each other, we muster the strength to charge, teeth tightly clenched. I get on my hind legs and swing. I miss. My punch was too slow. I must go faster. He does the same and punches. I dodge and I counterattack as fast as possible. Still too slow. He dodges once more and reacts accordingly. I see his punch and move in for my own. A simultaneous hit. Each punch met its target on each others’ cheek. The force of each blow sends us both back. I slide to a halt and look at my enemy. He’s already moving towards me. So, he still has some fight left. Well I do too. I start to run as fast as my exhausted body will let me, hooves raring to go.
We jump up, skidding on our back legs and meet half way with another simultaneous hit to the face, this time we both took the blow and stood our ground. For the smallest of fractions our eyes meet and his eyes send me a glare that could only mean, “Come at me with all you got.” A frenzy of punches from both of us some missed but just as many, maybe more, connected.
I stopped one of his hooves and he catches my other one. He does something I didn’t expect. I feel a blunt but sharp feeling envelope my gut. I look down to see one of his back legs pressed firmly into my side. I could hardly believe it. I look at a mischievous look on his face to realize he had been planning this. Well if he wants to kick, we’ll kick.
We jump back to jump back into another frenzy of punches. He throws a barrage of kicks and I retaliate by doing the same. Our shins connect and I feel it crack from the pressure. I shrug it off as well as I can and punch him in the chest, breaking a rib or two. He flies back but lands on his hooves, but I notice something. It was quick, but he faltered a bit. So his shin was also cracked. He comes at me full speed and punches me in the chest to return the favor. He broke some of my ribs, too. I kick and he blocks then throws a left that I dodge. I throw an uppercut. It connects, but that doesn't stop him from throwing a straight right to fracture my snout. Blood spurts, but I have to manage. I surely shattered his jaw. I double back and charge like a raging bull. He run at full force again. Another simultaneous punch to the face. The force was too intense and we fall back, tumbling back onto our hooves.
Coincidentally, we landed by our weapons. If only we were unicorns. Our bloodied mouths pick up the bloodied weapons and sprinted faster than before, our fighting spirit renewed. This was it. The final decisive point of our long fought battle. This was the last strike. I was not going to go down without a valiant fight and I could tell he wasn't either. I lift my katana, poised to strike. He does the same with his scythe. While we swing we let out a final battle cry through our weapons, one loud enough to rattle the insides of the Canterlot Castle. Our cries amplified the aches and pains we feel, as well as the anger we felt toward one another. Our renewed spirits also fighting for dominance. I stab in with my sword as he swings downward. When we collide, the shock-wave of the impact creates a giant dust cloud. I feel a sharp pain on my right shoulder and stab in harder and I feel an impact. We stand there and when the dust clears, I see what happened.
His scythe is lodged in my shoulder blade. My wound gushes blood and I stand in a puddle of my own blood. My injury was a scratch compared to my enemy. My sword found a nice home in between his chest and neck. I pull my sword out of him and the blood gushes and spurts out of his open wound as he falls to his side, the blood still flowing freely from its opened container. Soon there’s a puddle of his blood underneath him. I look upon the lifeless pony in front of me and, with all the strength I could muster, I dislodge the scythe from my shoulder, causing my blood to flow with renewed fervor, and begin to dig a grave, using the sword as a makeshift shovel.
Once done, I set him inside and fill it back up. I place the scythe’s staff into the ground as his tombstone, my blood still dripping off of the blade. I look upon my work and smirk a bit. A proper burial for my foe, Blade Shine. I set off to Dodge Junction for the warmth of its ponies. Once there, I collapse in front of a crowd who know me. I look up at their worried faces and say one thing.
“Bury me in front of the scythe near town.” I then start to lose consciousness. Darkness takes over my field of vision. In my last moments of life I think to myself I, Steal Blaze, will also get a proper burial.
