Showmare

The cave opening was big. Very big. If what Trixie was looking for was in there, it had to be. At this moment, she realized just how shallow her breath was. She cursed her fear, annoyed that it could affect her physically. Taking a few moments, she tried to calm herself. Breathing exercises, simple meditation techniques, and even some basic magic tricks. None seemed to slow down her nerves. Eventually, she decided to just push through it. Scared or not she was entering that cave. It was dark inside, but the light cast from the opening was enough to see. Various stalagmites and stalactites littered the cave, creating the image of teeth in a hungry mouth. A mouth that Trixie was walking right into. Fitting for the situation really.

A low grumble vibrated the walls, making Trixie stop in her tracks. The fear that had hold of her squeezed tighter, begging for her to go the other way. She ignored it, which was difficult now. She was shaking, physically shaking. Each step was heavy, and forced, but she kept going. Reaching a turn, she felt another vibration move through the floor, as she looked around the bend, and saw exactly what she came for. A large blue bear that seemed to have been plucked from the night sky. An Ursa Minor.

It was asleep, softly growling in a low snore. Trixie remembered how monstrously huge it was, back from Ponyville, but it was still bigger than she had hoped. His paw was slightly bigger than her, meaning that one swing could probably end her life. She sat there, wide eyed and scared. It shifted in it's rest, and Trixie realized just how heavy and loud she was breathing. She tried to silence herself, fearing that she might wake it. Though it was too late. One eye opened on the beast, and made it's way to look directly at her. Her breathing seemed to retract itself, going from deep, fast breaths, to feeling like it was knocked out of her.

The Minor began to stand, slowly shifting onto it's four legs. Once it was up, it looked directly at Trixie, towering over her. Unfortunately, it did not stop there. It steadily lifted itself onto it's hind legs, raising it's front paws in a show of strength. Trixie couldn't move. Fear now had complete control over her, turning her into stone. The Minor looked down at Trixie from it's monstrous height, compounding that fear. The last thing Trixie saw, was it's huge hind leg hurtling down towards her.

**********

An abrupt thud shook her head. Her eyes shot open, and on pure instinct, she leaped up, ready to destroy whatever was threatening her. She was disappointed to be looking into the blood red eyes of a hunter green pegasus.

"Morning, sunshine!" said Swiftwing, his face in his usual smug and confident look.

Trixie redirected her disappointment into a small fury, aimed directly at the unwanted intrusion. "You have ten seconds to explain your reason for waking Trixie in such a manner." She said through clenched teeth.

"Well, sweetheart, you seem to be in a fine mood." He said, now leaning onto the arm of the couch that Trixie was on.

"Five seconds." She stated flatly, flaring her horn for effect.

"Ah. You see, you were starting to scream. And not the kind I prefer." Even under death threats, Swiftwing was Swiftwing.

"Scream?" Trixie asked, not changing her expression.

"Yea. Scared the bejeezus out of ol' Gunner and me." He said, pointing to the other side of Trixie. She looked at where he indicated, and saw a griffon with white feathers and gray fur looking directly at her inquisitively. She nodded at him, which he quickly returned, still questioning her with his eyes. Turning back, she focused her attention back to the cause of her sudden wakeup.

"So you hit her?" She asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Yep. Not really an expert on how to wake someone sounding like Death himself just paid a visit. Just went with what I thought would work, sweetheart." He ran a hoof through his dark brown mane, trying to give some sort of impression of being suave. Trixie decided to go with what she thought would work, as well.  A good smack upside the head.

Swift recovered quickly, probably used to the reaction. He just flashed his smile that stank of smug confidence. "By the way, what was it that caused such a ruckus, eh?"

The image of a giant bear made of stars flashed in her mind. 'Damn it.' She thought. 'Damn it all to Tarturus. Trixie almost went a whole week without that god-forsaken nightmare. Why is it bothering her now?'

She saw Swift raise an eyebrow, curious as to why she hasn't answered yet. "Just a dream." She responded, hoping that it would be left at that.

"Uh-huh." was the response. "Well, that 'dream' made you miss Gunner's fight. And what a beauty. He just toyed with the kid, tossing him about. Letting him get back up to try again. I'm telling you, noob night is the most fun I've ever had." Noob night was a relatively new aspect of the arena. The reigning champions of the three leagues got to fight the newcomer to their specific league. With a few conditions, of course. In the current room, two had already faced their 'noob'. Which only left one.

"You are going to be awake to watch my show, sweetheart? Or are you going back to dreamland for another round of Nightmare Night?" Swift, the champion of league three, asked. Trixie, champion of league two, sighed.

"Trixie will watch, provided you keep her entertained." She answered, looking down at him challengingly. This just pulled a satisfied smile from him.

"It's a date." he said, starting to walk to the door. She caught a glimpse of his cutie mark, an unfurled wing, as he passed by. He looked over to Gunner, just now noticing that he was reading a political magazine. "Oh, come on Gunner. You've got to stop reading those magazines. They're pointless for fighters like us."

Gunner looked up, giving him an 'Really?' look. Swift rolled his eyes "Yea, yea. I know. You like to have something beyond the arena. But does it have to be politics? Hell, I think knitting would be a better hobby than those lies."

Gunner narrowed his eyes, giving a formidable glint to them. Swift put up his front hoofs in a sign of mock surrender. "Alright. Your hobby, your choice. Geez, for a guy who never talks, you sure do have a lot to say." Gunner just gave him a deadpan look. "Okay! For goodness sakes, don't look at me in that tone of stare." Swift said in mock annoyance. Turning back to the door, he took his leave.

Gunner looked at Trixie, who had just gotten herself off the couch, and gave her a small smile while rolling his eyes. Trixie giggled, then caught herself, scared she might seem like a simple schoolfilly. He then placed down his magazine, and headed out the door to catch up with Swift. Trixie shook her head, still finding their way of bantering to be amazingly close, despite one's ability to talk and the other's reluctance.

Heading out the door, and into the corridor, she started thinking about her most recent fight. It was straight forward. A new colt, who had some discipline and talent, but nothing close to Trixie. Of course, one does not just become a league champion. First, you have to usurp the previous champion. It's usually an arduous task, taking weeks of training, preparing, and planning. And that's if another league member doesn't kill you first. Then, you have to hold the position by not getting defeated. Which usually ended up in death. Trixie always wondered how they always kept enough fighters in the arena, seeing as a kill could happen in almost every fight. Though, it was set up so that there would always be some challengers.

The arena was split into three leagues, each of which was separate from the others. A challenger in one league couldn't fight one from another. Each league had about five or six different fighters, including the champion. Each fighter could only fight once a week, and they spread the fights out throughout the entire week. Any given night was fight night. This kept things orderly, and made sure they didn't lose contestants too quickly. Though, the 'owners' of the arena weren't too concerned with losing the fighters. Money came in either way. Not to mention most fighters were either criminals seeking legal invisibility, or some bum who gave up on everything else. Though, Trixie found it ironic that they sought refuge in death matches.

Trixie's climb to the top was unprecedented though. It took her all of five weeks to take the position at the top. Seeing as it usually took fifteen, most were surprised. Filthy didn't seem too shocked, however. He had bet quite a sum on her when it came to the champion fight. Almost as if he knew Trixie was just that good. Like she could not lose. It had made him rich. Well, richer. Trixie didn't care. The outside betting, and politics of the arena was pointless to her. She only focused on the fight. On winning. On dominating.

The sound of cheering caught her attention, as she neared the door to the arena. Bright light flooded into the corridor she was exiting, coming from the large glowstones that made up the roof. They provided light at all times, allowing full view of the arena. It was circular in nature. A round pit, twenty meters in diameter, surrounded by benches that were on higher ground, circling the pit. A single booth, reserved for champions and arena 'owners', was on the northern wall. There was a cage, domed another twenty meters above the fighting zone, preventing flying from becoming too reckless. It was plenty of room for almost any maneuver, but not enough to induce speeds of 'rainboom' proportions.

Trixie looked around for a seat that was not surrounded by drunken muscle heads. The only refuge she could find, however, was with Filthy, who was flagging her down to join him in the booth. Begrudgingly, she headed over to him, already thinking of ways to ignore him. On the way over, she just so happened to pass by a very familiar brown colt. Her most recent opponent was staring intently at the arena, seeming to be searching for life's greatest mystery inside the cage. When she was within hoof's length from him, his ears twitched, as if bothered by an invisible fly. He swiveled his head, and looked directly at Trixie with that cold glare from before. A moment passed by, where they simply stared. Then he nodded, turning his head back to the arena, and once more beginning his intense searching of the cage's innards. Trixie moved on, not wanting to seem stupid standing in one place.

The booth was filled with various ponies of all races. The only real variation was Gunner, who had taken to leaning against the back wall, claws crossed in front of his chest. When she entered, he nodded briskly at her, which she returned. Filthy was making a show of getting her attention, motioning her to sit next to him. If she didn't know better, he would seem like a desperate middle-aged stallion. Thankfully, his only true love was money, and he cared for little beyond that.

Taking the seat, Filthy gave his greasy smile, of which Trixie wished he would get rid of. He motioned his hoof in a 'shh' manner, pointing to the pit. Trixie looked at what he was pointing at, and noticed that the fighters were now entering. Swift was coming in from the west side, making a show of himself. Various gestures were thrown to the crowd, gaining positive responses from the crowd. Trixie was even surprised to see a couple mares respond favorably to his blown kisses. She rolled her eyes, all too familiar with how showy he got. His opponent, however, was a different story. A white earth pony, with a short green mane was boring his eyes into Swift. He was big. Too big. He seemed like he had been taking steroids as a foal, letting it get way out of hand. Unsurprisingly, a depiction of a flexed muscle was visible on his flank.

Both met in the middle, and exchanged glances. A bright yellow unicorn, with a megaphone as his cutie mark, teleported into the pit alongside the two opponents. He started conversing with them in what Trixie knew was an exchange of names, stats, and formalities. After a short while, the unicorn teleported on top of the cage. His horn lit up, as he applied the right spells to amplify his voice.

"Greetings, fight fans!" he began. "It's time for Newcomer's Night, fight three. Tonight, we have the reigning champ of league three, facing off against the newest member of his league. First, you know him. He's the personality that you just can't ignore." 'Unfortunately' thought Trixie. "Swiftwing!" At this, Swift raised his hooves in the air, eliciting cheers and stomping from the stands.

"And, now. Taking him on tonight is, obviously, a relatively new addition to league three. On his sixth fight in total, we have a challenger who has not kept it secret how much he wishes to topple our beloved champ. And now he has his chance. Here is Muscle Mass!" The white stallion didn't seem to pay attention, still choosing to stare determinedly at the fighter across from him. A wave of cheers passed over the crowd, not as awed by him.

"Fighters. Prepare yourselves!" At this, the opponents took their stances. Swift gave a powerful beat to his wings, lifting himself into a vertical stance. He now stood on his hind legs, wings splayed out to keep his balance. He had his right side forward, making him slanted to his opponent, his front hooves raised for striking. He was bobbing slightly from hoof to hoof, keeping himself moving. Muscle simply widened his front hooves, lowering his head for a more low, defensive stance.

On top of the cage, the announcer took out a hammer, holding it above the cage itself. "Alright folks. Lllllet's get ready to rrumblllllllllle!"

Author's Note

Yes, I really am cutting it off there. I want to mess around with the next scene a bit in it's own chapter, instead of forcing it to merge with this one. Which means you have to wait for the good part.