Showmare

by TinKanSinar

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Dark, Romance
Length: 19126

Even if the show is the most dangerous show she has ever performed, Trixie is a showmare. Always has been, and always will be.

Trixie is a showmare. Always has been, and always will be. Even if the show is dangerous, and death is a constant companion. Even if it will cost her everything.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-10 19:03:59 UTC

Talks and Challanges

An audible crack rang though the arena, as Trixie's opponent fell to the ground, jaw broken. Cheers and hoof-stomping soon followed, while she took position over his body, pinning him. She looked around, grinning triumphantly at the audience.

“Well, folks!” she shouted, amplifying her voice with magic. “Does this one live, or shall the Great and Powerful Trixie add another body to her count?”

Mixed replies came out, some begging for his life, others thirsty for blood. A disturbingly satisfied smile spread across Trixie's face, as she looked over her opponent. A deep, dirt brown earth stallion, with a coal black mane, messy from the fight. Then she looked him in the eye. There she saw a look she became all too familiar with. Wide eyes with small, dilated pupils. Fear. His breath was ragged, and short, while sweat matted down his coat.

Trixie enjoyed these moments, a little too much if you asked her. Yet, it invigorated her. These points, where she truly felt great and powerful. Where she held the choice and power of death. This time she decided on mercy.

“Trixie has seen this colt's talent, and it has impressed her.” Her two broken ribs, which he skillfully administered, agreed with her sentiment. “She will let him live, in the hopes that he might prove a challenge in the future!”

The audience met this decision with mixed replies, which was expected. Every choice became controversy, but that did not deter Trixie. Her choice was her choice. Amidst the random boos and whoops of the crowd, she stepped off of the stallion that was her opponent. At this point, he passed out. Whether from joy, relief, or stress was anybody's guess. It didn't matter, not to Trixie. She would most likely never see him again. By the time he would get the chance to rematch her, some other opponent would probably kill him. It's the way things worked in the arena.

And so she took her leave, exiting through the large door in the side of the fight pit. She only paused at the door to administer first aid to herself, using her magic to make the basic repairs. The other repairs could be worried about later. For now she just wanted to get in a good rest. The noisy audience became a small buzz as she traveled the corridor to the fighter's lounge. About halfway down, was someone she would rather not meet.

“Nice job, kiddo.” said a brown stallion, wearing an expensive suit that looked out of place in the underground tunnel. His mane was pulled back in that style only ponies with dirty money seemed to favor. Three moneybags were visible on his flank, ambiguous, and yet, so accurate.

“Filthy.” Trixie said, choosing to walk on by.

“Please, call me Rich.” Filthy Rich said, flashing his signature greasy smile.

“Trixie will call you by the name that fits you better, Filthy.” She kept going, not wanting the conversation to continue on.

Filthy didn't share that sentiment, as he fell in step with the mare. “Oh, come now. Can't we ever play nice?” he mock pleaded, still showing that smile. “This partnership has turned out fairly well, don't you think?”

“Anything would be better than the last stint you set Trixie up to.” she replied, shivering at the memories.

“That was just an experiment.” he said. “I needed to find out how to best use your talents.”

Trixie stopped, now at the door to the lounge. “And you thought a cat-house would be the best place to start?” Resentment was laced throughout Trixie's voice.

“Illusion magic is a much sought out commodity in the sex business, and you are quite the illusionist.”

“Trixie knows. She enjoyed watching that perverted bastard suffer at her illusions.”

Filthy coughed, remembering very vividly that night. It had cost him one of his long-standing customers. “Yes. Well at least we found something suitable for you. Who knew underground fighting would be your flavor?”

“Trixie did. She had been training for months after her performance in Ponyville.”

“Oh, I know. I found you beating the living daylights out of a timberwolf, remember? Quite impressive, really.”

“Then why did you not send Trixie to the arena in the first place?”

“Business first, and personal ideas second. It's how I've always done things.”

“Trixie's noticed.” At this, she turned into the lounge, just wanting to rest. Filthy followed closely behind, probably stealing looks at her flanks, as far as she knew. The lounge was simple. Two chairs and a couch, facing a table between them all. A mini-fridge was in the corner, with a microwave on top. Food had to be supplied by the fighters themselves, something Trixie wasn't going to do.

For now, she opted for the couch, knowing it would be good to relax on. Thankfully, there were no other fighters, meaning it might actually be quiet. Taking position, Trixie started to doze off, relaxing on the comfortable suede. She always wondered how such nice material was in such a nasty group of thugs. Then she remembered that the whole arena was run by sleazy business-colts like Filthy. Of course they would have the bits to throw at nice furniture.

Trixie started to feel the relaxing pull of sleep, when she was interrupted. “So,” began Filthy. “we should probably discuss your next fight.”

“You will discuss the next fight with yourself. Trixie will sleep.” she grumbled.

“Never mind, then.” he said, not too keen on disturbing a tired Trixie. “I'll just head on out then.”

“Thank you.” She said, not hiding her annoyance. She waited patiently for him to leave, knowing that rushing him would not help. After the short wait, Trixie could relax again. She tried once again to sleep, feeling the pull from earlier. Consciousness slowly faded, as well as awareness of the nearby world. Light seemed to slowly disappear. Sound, of the little that could be heard, softened. Eventually, she felt her subconscious self on the edge of the cliff know as sleep. Just one leap and...

“Hey!”

'Oh, come on!!' ran through Trixie's head. Groggily, she looked at the door, where the noise had come from. There stood her most recent opponent, his eyes fixed on her in a cold stare. His icy blue irises seemed to punctuate the intensity. His injuries seemed to have been cured from the previous fight. He was most likely fixed up by the medic unicorns as soon as possible.

Trixie decided to get a good hard look at him, curious as to why he had actually posed a threat to her. He was smaller than most of her opponents, not really holding the size that would seem threatening. It was when she focused on his build that she noticed. His muscles were lean, and focused. Where her other opponents were bulky powerhouses, he seemed refined. His body was built for making each hit accurate and worthwhile. If combined with good form, he could become a very deadly weapon. Thankfully, he wasn't perfectly in tune, and Trixie seemed to have much more experience under her belt.

Though, that cold look seemed to be deadly by itself. “What was that back there?” he said, sounding annoyed.

“The fight? Trixie won. She wiped your sorry flank across that floor. That's what happened.” She hated these types. The ones that act like a loss should have been their win.

“No, no no!” he said, accentuating each no louder. “Why did you let me live? I lost. The loser dies. That's how it works.”

Ooookay. That one's actually new. Nobody ever expressed disappointment in living before. “Actually, winner chooses. And seeing as Trixie won, she got to choose. And she chose for you to live. She had no reason to kill you. Besides, how could she bring herself to kill such a handsome face?” Trixie was known for two things in the arena. Ruthlessness, and a flirtatious attitude. The latter caught many an opponent off guard.

Apparently though, it did not faze this one. His cold gaze did not change. “I was prepared to die. You should have killed me.”

“Oh, please. You were shaking like a foal in front of a manticore. Besides, I seem to remember you passing out at the end. Prepared to die, my hoof.”

The stallion snorted, probably out of frustration. It was hard to guess with this one. “Of course I was scared, but fear does not control me. I was prepared none the less.”

“Ugh.” Trixie said, face-hoofing. “Then how about Trixie kills you now, seeing how prepared you are.”

“No!” he barked. “Your chance is up. I'm alive, that will not change. If you're going to kill me, then do so in the arena.”

“Fine then. How about this, handsome? Don't die, and maybe you can get a rematch. Then, Trixie will kill you. Though, it seems like such a waste.” she said, showing an enticing smile.

The stallion nodded, not changing that cold look, and turned himself to exit. Right before he disappeared, his head swiveled around to face her. “If we rematch, I will not lose a second time.” With that, he was gone.

Trixie harrumphed, glad there were no more distractions. Laying her head back down, she finally fell in to the abyss known as sleep.

Author's Note

Be ruthless. If you find something wrong with the story, tell me. I would like to know how to improve for future endeavors.

Champions and Newcomers

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.

Tricks and Victories

A metallic thud rang through the arena, as loud cheers, whoops, and stomping erupted. Everybody shifted forwards in their seats, eager to know how this would play out. Swift started to bounce more on his legs, back and forth. He was leaning forward, looking ready to charge the enemy. Muscle simply held his position, preparing for an attack.

Swift jumped forward, the distance between them shortened, as he pulled back his right hoof, preparing to strike. Muscle shifted, leaving him to hit empty air. Recovering himself, Swift closed in again, once more setting to strike. His opponent dodged again, leaving only space for him to hit. A third attempt was just as successful, leaving Swift hitting nothing. This time, Muscle took his opportunity, landing a left hook on Swift's jaw. Swift stumbled back, the hit forcing his balance out of rhythm. A confident smirk spread on Muscle's face tauntingly. Back in position, Swift leaned forward, priming his leg to shoot out. Muscle shot forward, ramming his head into the primed leg. Swift fell back, the tackle pushing him to the ground. Muscle pounced at him, aiming for a direct hit on a dazed target. Swift rolled aside, leaving his opponent's hoof to contact the ground. He rotated himself, his hind leg making contact with Muscle's side. Both jumped back, getting into the position they started with.

Up in the booth, Trixie chuckled, entertained at the show being displayed. Filthy looked over at her, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "And what are you finding amusing, miss?"

Trixie looked at him, a beguiled smile adorning her face. "How one-sided this fight has become. Trixie already knows who's going to win."

Filthy looked back at the arena, a smile of his own creeping on his face. "Yea, I guess it's kind of obvious. That new guy is really laying it into him."

Trixie threw her head back, belting out a loud, satisfied laugh. "And that is why it is so amusing to watch." Filthy gave her a confused look, which she dismissed with a wave of her hoof. "Just watch the fight, and maybe you'll understand. Or not."

Ignoring the small glare from Filthy, she took a look over at the stands, seeking out the brown stallion from her previous fight. He stood out, in his own way. The crowd around him was moving about, cheering and taunting. He was perfectly still, intensely staring at the ring. His features were taunt, straining to pick up even the minute details. Trixie allowed a small smile to creep onto her face, a bit impressed with how serious he was. Shaking her head, she decided it would be best if she focused back on the fight herself.

Muscle made the first move this time, pushing off with his hind legs. His head aimed straight for Swift, whose reaction was not fast enough. Swift crossed his arms, taking the tackle dead on. He was forced back a few feet, still keeping his stance, until he rotated around his opponent, leaving him to barrel through nothing. He took the chance to make a wide swing at Muscle, who dodged it with the momentum used for his last attack. Muscle had a look on him that practically radiated confidence. His smile was wide, showing his pride in how things were going. Getting back in stance, he lifted a hoof, and waved it tauntingly at Swift, beckoning him to try again.

Swift took the bait, charging forward with his left hoof raised. His opponent moved at the last second, responding with a jab to Swift's jaw. Unfazed, he swung again, aiming for an uppercut. Muscle shifted, allowing the blow to miss his head by inches, and responded with a hoof in his side. Wincing, Swift pushed on, throwing various hits on his opponent. None made their mark, as Muscle continued to land hit after hit on him. Looking tired, he tried once more, swinging back his arm for a straight shot on his opponent's face. Muscle's smile was now beyond wide, as he stepped back to avoid the attack, and swirled around for a powerful hind leg buck.

Trixie smirked, and simply said "It's over."

A similar smirk appeared on Swift's face, as he powerfully flapped his wings to redirect himself away from where Muscle was aiming. Muscle kicked out, contacting nothing, and finding himself in suspension. Swift threw an uppercut at the exposed underbelly of his opponent, seeming loads faster than before. The impact twisted Muscle, who was now flopping about to get some sort of stability in his corkscrew. Swift didn't relent, sending a barrage of hits into the side of his flailing adversary, which only registered to the crowd as a blur. The smile on his face was becoming bigger and more crooked, taking on a demonic overtone. He was enjoying this. His opponent was losing it, not able to get any sort of footing while attack after attack rained down on him. When he finally collapsed from sheer pain and exhaustion, Swift was laughing. A loud, bellowing laugh that came from deep in his gut. A laugh that made even Trixie shudder. It was the laugh of one who did not care, who loved the pain he was causing. Trixie knew more than anyone else that Swift changed when fighting. His playboy demeanor vanished, only to be replaced by someone who lived only for the kill. His true nature.

Standing over his downed opponent, Swift glared down, a maniacal smile on his face. Muscle looked up, now a pleading look in his eye, and fear across his face. This only made Swift laugh again, as he pulled up his hoof over the downed stallion's head. Muscle shook, trying to move to no avail. As the hoof came down, a deep "No!" came out from him, and was silenced by the dull crack of impact.

Swift turned around, pulling himself upright. He threw back his head, while he let out a resounding yell of bloodlust that overcame the room. The crowd met him with a cheer of it's own, while Trixie simply shuddered, glad she never had to face him herself.

Boasts and Beatdowns

Author's Note

Beware. Thar be curses. If you're going to be butthurt over some curse words, I suggest you just give up reading this now.

**********

"I'm still not sure how he won that back there. That new guy was really laying it into him."

Trixie rolled her eyes at Filthy's lack of understanding. They were in the corridor that lead away from the arena. Trixie was headed to the training room, knowing that Swift would be there, bragging it up. Filthy had followed, excitedly talking about the recent fight. He sounded like a foal watching his first boxing match.

"Well, obviously that's what he wanted it to look like." Trixie said, getting annoyed with him.

"But he seemed to be trying so hard. I couldn't tell how he got so fast near the end there." Filthy said, showing genuine confusion.

Trixie looked at him skeptically, before asking, "How many fights have you actually seen?"

"And what does that matter to you?" He looked at her incredulously, seeming insulted.

She laughed, amused at how personal he took it. "Trixie will take that as not many. But how many specifically?"

"Well," he said, looking forward. "I never watched one before. Never wanted to. I had to watch these noob fights though. Something like 'champion owners should see what's new.' I didn't think they would be this exciting."

Trixie smiled knowingly. "That explains it."

"Explains what?" he asked, curious to her meaning.

"Swift was trying his hardest. He was striking as fast as he could." she said, stringing him along.

"Then how did he just suddenly get faster?" He almost seemed to be begging at this point.

"It was how he was striking. Did you see him pull back?" Filthy nodded, trying to follow along. "Well, how about you try it? Pull back your hoof to strike Trixie." Filthy lifted an eyebrow, questioning her idea silently. "Oh don't worry. It's not you could hurt her if you tried." That seemed to work, as Filthy pulled back his hoof for a strike. Suddenly, he found his vision to be filled with the business end of Trixie's hoof, mere centimeters from his muzzle. He yelped in reaction, eliciting a chuckle from her.

"What in the hay was that?! I'm too old for surprises." gasped Filthy, regaining his senses.

"Oh stuff it. You wanted to know and this was the best way to show you." said Trixie, enjoying the reaction.

"But how did that happen? I pulled back, and you were in my face before I was even done."

"It's simple. Trixie didn't pull back." This only pulled a confused look from him, which caused her to roll her eyes in frustration. "Here. Trixie will make this easy for you by slowing it down." She then proceeded to bring her hoof from the ground, pulling it forward in an arc ending near Filthy's face. "See? Swift was pulling back, right?" Filthy nodded in response, realization starting to seep into his features. "Well, he did that to make himself slower. He was pulling his opponent into a sense of overconfidence. And it worked. Trixie doesn't know how his opponent was foolish enough to actually believe that ruse. No fighter worth his merit would ever pull back. Let alone Swift."

"Hm." was the only response from Filthy, mulling over what was told him. Trixie left him at that, turning into the practice room that they just reached. It was simple, filled with only a few devices. It was split into two halves, each focused on a different aspect. One side had a simple ring, built for anyone who was willing to spar with each other. It was rarely used, and usually only by opponents who were not in the same league. Nobody was willing to show what they were capable of in front of each other. The other half was filled with simple exercise equipment, like weights, punching bags, and pull-up bars. It was used more, though only to intimidate possible opponents.

Swift was currently using a pull-up bar, much to the excitement of some mare standing to his side. Trixie tried hard not to roll her eyes at the display. He was busy chatting her up, giving her details on how exactly he pulled off his 'perfect victory'. Gunner was standing a bit to the side, leaning in his usual position. His eyes met Trixie's, and he made a show of gagging silently, motioning towards the two. Trixie smirked, nodding her agreement. Taking another look around, she saw the room was occupied by six other fighters, none of which she really knew. Though, there was that brown stallion, who was laying down in the corner. He looked asleep, slowly breathing with his eyes closed. Trixie thought of something that she wished she had thought of sooner.

"Filthy?" she asked, addressing the stallion that walked in behind her, still thinking about the lesson he learned.

"Hm?" he said, breaking out of his trance.

"That stallion." she said, pointing to her previous opponent. "What is his name?"

Filthy looked at the colt in question, squinting his eyes in concentration. "Oh, him." he said. "Funny story that. Nobody knows."

Trixie blinked. "Could you run that by Trixie again?"

"Nobody knows. He doesn't talk much, and never pleasantly when he does. Nobody really wants to ask him."

"So what have you been calling him?"

"Well, we just call him 'new guy'. Seems to have taken to it, too, cause he actually answers to it."

"Huh." Trixie said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at New Guy.

"And that isn't the most intriguing part. Did you get a good look at his cutie mark?"

Trixie realized she did not remember what his cutie mark was, which seemed odd. That is, until she took a look, and realized there was nothing there. "A blank flank?"

"Exactly." Filthy said. "Usually we get the standard fighting cutie marks. He has none. Nobody knows why either. When asked, he just gives that cold stare. It's really starting to creep me out." He shivered, relaying just how much it affected him.

"Hm." was the only response Trixie gave.

"You didn't know any of this? He is in your league." Filthy said, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Trixie never payed attention to the ones below her. They usually don't live long enough to warrant care."

"Harsh."

"You have to be if you are at the top."

"So I've noticed."

Trixie decided to walk over to the other champions, not caring for the current conversation to continue. Swift was now in the middle of inverted wing-ups, still smooth talking his latest quarry. Gunner took notice of their approach, and responded with a begging look, indicating towards the two. Trixie tried hard, and failed, to not roll her eyes. Filthy followed close behind, an action that Trixie was starting to get tired of. Swift took notice of her approach, pushing himself back onto his four hooves.

"I was wondering when you would show your pretty face." he said, his nature back to the usual playcolt attitude. "So, sweetheart, how was the match? Did I get your heart racing? Cause I have other ways to get it going again."

"Trixie would knock you out for even suggesting such things, but she is feeling generous today. Congratulations on the victory. Not don't let it get to your already over-sized head." Trixie said, not letting herself get annoyed at his comments.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Swift asked, pulling himself to Trixie's side, and raising an eyebrow playfully. "I think I'm starting to get to you."

"What?" Trixie said, giving her best 'you can't be serious' look.

"Oh I can see it now. Trixie, champion of league two, falling for a rival champion. A love forged through battle and hours of sweaty-"

A swift impact to the side of his head stopped Swift's rambling, jerking it back. Trixie noticed the mare he was wooing giving her a look of pure acid. Whether it was because Trixie hit Swift, or if the mare lost his attention, she didn't know. It didn't matter, however, because the mare decided to walk away, nose held high in contempt.

"Oi. I see your hits are as solid as ever." said Swift, rubbing the contacted area. "And now I've lost my date. Ah well. There's plenty of fish in the sea. And I always have you to return home to."

"Please do not force Trixie to break your neck."

"Wouldn't think of it, sweetheart. Stop doing that Gunner. It's not helping."

Trixie turned to see Gunner face-palming as hard as he could, with Filthy next to him, shaking from contained laughter. "Are you two finding this funny?"

"Actually-"

"The fuck you just say to me!?!"

All conversation stopped as heads turned toward the outburst that rang through the room.

"I don't think you get this. I need to use that, and you are in the way."

A rather large earth stallion was trying to tower over a mid-sized pegasus stallion next to the punching bag. Trixie recognized the earth stallion as being a member of her league. He was a navy blue, with royal purple hair mopped around his head. His cutie mark showed a hoof impacting a skull. He always did like the killing blow, making a big show out of ending his opponent brutally. The pegasus she did not expressly remember, but she did recall that he was from Gunner's league. He was a brick red, with brown long hair trailing down the back of his head. His cutie mark was a hoof in contact with another, seeming to block it. Perhaps he was good at blocking attacks.

Currently though, he did not seem up to blocking anything. He stood as tall as he could, trying to meet the larger stallion. His face showed desire to not back down, but his body showed the very opposite. He was shaking hard, seeming to vibrate. He was scared, no matter how much he tried to show otherwise, and his aggressor knew it.

"I..I was using it." said the pegasus, trying to keep himself situated.

"I don't give a fuck. I'm going to be using it now." said the earth stallion.

"I'm not done yet. Please, can I just fin-"

"Are you trying to ask? Are you that weak?"

"N-no!"

Filthy turned to Trixie, fear at the edges of his face. "Are you guys going to stop this?"

Swift chuckled quietly, trying not to bring attention to themselves. "Are you kidding me? This could be entertaining to watch." Trixie was sure that she saw a dark glimmer show through his eyes.

"Trixie?" said Filthy, the fear slowly advancing over his face.

"No. It's not Trixie's job to babysit weaklings. Besides, this could help him get stronger. As long as nobody tries to kill anybody, things will be alright."

"Why not ask Gunner here." Swift motioned towards the silent griffon. "I bet his bleeding heart would be willing to help."

Gunner responded with a slow, solemn shake of his head. Though he cared, he did not feel right to intervene.

"Well, how about you move your ass before I kick it out of the way." The attention was brought back to the two near the punching bag. The earth stallion was now closer to the pegasus, trying to stand over him intimidatingly. It seemed to be working, because the pegasus' stance was a bit slumped, trying to avoid contact.

"I just want to use the bag."

"Guess what, shitbrain? So do I. Now move."

"No."

"I'm sorry, you don't get to tell me no."

"P-please. Can I just finish?"

A devilish smirk crossed the face of the earth stallion. "You know what? I might just be feeling generous. Seeing as you like to ask so much, I'll let you finish. But only if you beg."

"Beg?" said the pegasus, surprise flaring on his face.

"Yea. Get on the ground and beg."

The pegasus hesitated, unsure of how this was going to work, before he bowed himself down. "Please let me finish."

"I said beg, pussy. Beg like a bitch."

The pegasus looked up, fear now evident on his features. This only angered the earth stallion. "I said beg, bitch!" He brought a hoof down on the side of the pegasus' head, forcing it to the ground. "Get down and beg." Small murmurs ran through the small amount of fighters around, but none stepped forward, not wanting to interfere between two fighters. A small cough was heard from the pegasus, as he looked up at his assailant, a small kindle lighting in his eye.

"Fuck you."

A loud yell was heard from the earth stallion, as he let loose. All sorts of strikes came down on the downed pegasus, who curled up to take as many as he could, unable to fight back. Alarm ran through Trixie and the ones near her, as they realized that this had become deadly. However, they only made a couple steps, before the earth stallion was on the ground. Standing over him was New Guy, holding a hoof to his throat. The earth stallion was pawing at it, trying to catch a breath. Trixie and the others paused, surprised at how sudden New Guy appeared.

Guy looked down at his quarry, pure ice shining through his eyes. After a moment, he turned to the worried group that was debating whether to advance or not. Meeting Trixie's eyes, he nodded. Understanding what he meant, she waved her hoof towards the group, signaling to not get involved. Satisfied, Guy turned back to the struggling stallion under his hooves. He leaned in close, holding his muzzle centimeters from his prey.

"Listen to me, and this will be quick. Understand?" The stallion made a faint nod. "Good. When I release you, you will leave. Say nothing, do nothing. Just leave. Got it?" Another nod. "If you dare try this shit outside the ring again, I will leave you with something broken. Understand?" One more nod. Guy released his hoof, prompting a sharp intake of breath from the stallion. Coughing and wheezing, the stallion raised himself weakly. He looked at Guy fearfully, starting to move for the door. After a few steps, he paused.

"I will get you for this, you piece of fu-"

He was cut short by a hook to his jaw, throwing him to the ground. Standing over him again was Guy, his glare intensified. When the stallion recovered enough to look back, Guy simply uttered "Run." He didn't need another invitation. Within seconds, he was out the door.

The room was silent, impressed with the display that was given. Trixie found herself smirking, liking how the situation was handled. A hearty "Ha!" from Swift showed he was also pleased. Each fighter went on with their training, mentally taking note of what was shown, in case they ever found themselves in the opposite corner of either participants.

The pegasus approached Guy, the smile on his face showing his joy at the nuisance being expelled. "Hey man, thanks for that. I hate how he does that almost every-"

"Could you have taken him?"

The pegasus blinked, the question coming out of nowhere. "Uh, maybe."

"Maybe?" The cold glare was now focused on the pegasus, making him shake once again. Trixie raised an eyebrow, curious as to where this was going.

"Y-yea. I mean I'm sure that I could move faster than-"

"Why did it take you so long?"

"Uh, so long for what?"

Guy approached the confused pegasus, stopping arm's distance away. "To grow some balls."

"What?!"

"The 'fuck you'. You waited too long. He had you already."

"Um. Yea, I guess."

"You were on the ground begging, and you guess?"

"I didn't want to-"

"You didn't want to try, you gutless worm." Guy was now in his face, pushing him back. "You didn't care. You were weak, and useless. If I ever hear that you let someone pull that shit again, I will personally make sure you shit yourself in fear!"

The pegasus was stunned speechless, opening and closing his mouth with words he couldn't form.

"Now go train. Maybe it'll help you gain some self-respect." With that, Guy walked back to his original spot, settling down in the position he had before. Closing his eyes, he relaxed himself. Trixie realized that he was not sleeping, like she thought earlier. He was meditating. Trixie looked on, respect showing through the smile that she wore on her face.

"Oh God." said Swift, attracting Trixie's attention back to the group. "That was priceless."

"Sweet heavens." said Filthy, who was visibly sweating. "That was, well, exciting."

"I know, right." said Swift. "Damn. That kid is one to look out for. You're lucky, sweetheart. I would give anything to have a fighter like that in my league."

"Maybe."

"Maybe? That kid just made a fool of one of the loudest asses here. One that's in your league, none the less. That kid is something else." Trixie could tell that Swift was getting excited. His killer nature was in the open. Only a fighter with a real chance can pull that out of him. It only made her wonder whether letting him live was going to haunt her some day.

Nightmares and Distractions

It was dark, the tall bare trees adding an element of dread to the forest. Trixie felt an oppressive feeling blanket the area, forcing her to take each step carefully. Her hoofsteps cracked the silence that filled the air. She could sense eyes watching her movements, eager to see what the stranger wanted from Everfree Forest.

The answer became clear when she reached the large mouth of a familiar cave. All the creatures watching left, knowing the foolishness of approaching the cave. They knew the insanity in seeking it out. They knew the terror of it's occupant. They wanted nothing to do with the Ursa Minor.

Trixie did not care. Her target was inside, and so she entered. She walked down the wide opening, seeming to travel the throat of a great beast. She could hear the Minor, it's snores echoing throughout the cave. She felt the fear rise within her, threatening to boil over. She ignored it. She was here to banish her terror, to kill the source. She was here to conquer the fear at last.

However, when she rounded the corner, she found herself unable to move. Being face to face with the Minor proved too much. No matter how her mind protested, her body refused to budge. She could only watch in horror as the beast awoke, turned it's attention to her, and crush her under it's gargantuan paw.

**********

Trixie yelped, springing into a sitting position on her bed. Her breath was short and sporadic, as she checked her surroundings. She felt relieved that she found her self in her room, rather than in a cave. Realizing she wasn't in any danger, she worked on slowing down her breathing to a relaxed rate.

Twice in one day. she thought. This is not a good sign. Her breathing was much more controlled, but she felt in no way tired. Deciding she ought to occupy herself, she got out of bed, and took a moment to check the room for signs of unwanted guests.

It was dark, signaling to her that she had awoken during the night. Looking around, her room showed no signs of invasive visitors. Her mirror was on it's stand in the corner. The magic resistors she used to train were in their container. Her food cabinets were still full. The only sign that someone was ever in the room was her bed. It was a single mattress on the floor; the single blanket was crumpled from her tossing around.

Determining that everything was in place, she decided to crawl back into bed. She laid still, willing herself to enter back into the comfort of sleep. Yet, it just wouldn't happen. Every time she felt a wave of somnolence pass over her, the image of a giant paw made of the night sky would flash in her mind. Each time, it put her on high alert, waking her from potential sleep. Her frustration grew, as she found relaxation harder and harder to obtain.

After a good half-hour of failed attempts to rest, she gave up. She decided it would be best if she found something else to occupy her time. An internal debate started over whether to play around with the magical resistors, or to go spend time in the training room. She felt a soft nudge in the back of her mind tell her to try the room. Trixie had learned a while ago that the soft nudge usually knew better than she did. Whether it was instinct, or some otherworldly power, it somehow knew just what to do. So she decided to listen, and head to the training room. She figured that nobody would be there anyway.

Trixie headed out into the dim corridor, making sure to lock her door with a magical combination tumbler. It was very unlikely that anybody would be around to mess with her room, as she was the only one that lived at the arena. She remembered how she timidly explained that she had no home to Filthy, when she first started. Somehow, he had negotiated with the other owners to give her a storage room that had been vacant for months. Trixie wondered if Filthy had told them something ridiculous. Something like she was a willing mare. Knowing how he worked, it wouldn't surprise her. It would also explain some of the looks she got. Thankfully, none of them ever approached her. She probably scared them too much.

As Trixie approached the lit doorway of the training room, she heard a soft thumping noise from within. She stifled a groan when she realized that it was the sound of hooves on a punching bag. Guess there would be somebody to bother her. She almost decided to give up on the idea of training, but curiosity took hold. She wanted to know who could be training at this time.

Peeking her head around the corner of the doorway, Trixie allowed her eyes a second to adjust to the light coming out. The smell of stale sweat was thick, assaulting her nose powerfully, as the thumping filled the room with it's echoes. Her eyes adjusted, Trixie turned her attention to the source. The punching bag jerked back and forth slightly; powerful hits landing in quick succession on the surface. Brown hooves came in contact with the bag in practiced and potent combinations. Sweat poured from the coal black mane resting over focused, cold blue eyes. Trixie was impressed at how serious New Guy was taking the exercise. She also felt fear. The same fear that she felt when he had caught the attention of Swift.

Trixie entered the room quietly, leaning herself on the wall next to the door. She found herself mesmerized by the rhythm that was being played played before her eyes. She watched as New Guy tirelessly beat on the bag, hoping not to disturb his concentration. However, she wasn't as successful as she hoped. As she watched on, New Guy's ears twitched slightly. Stopping his hits, he turned his head, focusing his cold glare onto Trixie.

"What?" he asked flatly, turning his body to be in line with his sight.

"Huh?" she said, tensing slightly.

"You're starting at me." he said, not changing his expression.

"How could Trixie not, handsome?" she asked, relaxing into her flirty attitude.

He stood there for a moment, seeming unaffected by the question. Trixie raised an eyebrow, wondering what caused the pause. "Are you going to leave?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Why should Trixie?" she asked, "She's enjoying the show. Very impressive moves, if you ask her."

"I don't want an audience." he stated.

"Why not? You could teach the others a thing or two."

"I'm not here to teach anybody anything. Especially you."

"Me? What do you have against Trixie?"

"I'm supposed to rematch you."

"Ah." Trixie didn't know how she forgot that. Though, she never cared to remember such things before. "Guess that would be a good reason not to show Trixie anything."

"Does that mean you'll leave?"

"Hardly. Trixie is looking for a way to distract herself."

"In the middle of the night?" New Guy said, a tone of incredulity in his voice.

"She had trouble sleeping."

"Not my problem."

"Well, Trixie is staying, with or without your approval."

New Guy went quiet, sill staring at Trixie. After a long moment of silence, she started to shift a bit, getting a bit creeped out by the stare. Several moments later, he responded. "Fine."

Trixie blinked. "What?"

"Fine. Don't bother me, and you can stay."

"Huh. Guess you like an audience after all, don't y-"

"Find something to occupy yourself. I don't want you staring."

"Says the one who seems to have perfected the art."

"Just do it." he snorted.

"Fine."

New Guy turned back to the bag that received his earlier beatings, and took his stance. His front right leg was in line with the bag, as he slanted himself, giving access to his back right leg. Letting out a slow breath, he focused on the target in front of him. Suddenly, he started. Jabs, straights, and kicks flew in combos seamlessly. Trixie felt the awe and fear return as she witnessed first hand his movements. She remembered him being good. Very good. But the display she was seeing was on a whole new level.

Shaking her head, Trixie cast her focus over to a punching bag next to her. She came here to clear her head, and she wasn't about to waste anymore time focusing on somebody else's training. Taking stance, she pushed everything in her mind out, and replaced it with the thought of lashing out at the bag. Within a minute, she was lost in the rhythm of her strikes.

Reprimands and Truths

The burning in her lungs and limbs became a good a sign as any that Trixie needed to stop. She backed away from the punching bag, trying to stabilize her breathing and heart rate. It had been thirty minutes since she had started the exercise. To her, this was a good amount of time. Most matches did not last past five minutes, so the chance that she became too tired to fight was almost non-existent. Still, the chance existed, and to pretend like it couldn't happen was a taunt to death itself. Which only meant that she had to improve, but not tonight. Tonight, she had done enough.

Her body fatigued, but her breath more stable, Trixie took a look at New Guy. She was curious as to how he was doing. She was shocked to find him still pounding out combos on his punching bag. His hits were much slower than earlier, but the intensity behind them did not fade. Trixie had always heard that earth ponies had stamina well beyond that of the unicorns and pegasi. Witnessing it first hand only made her believe the rumors more.

She wasn't sure what to think of what she was seeing, until she noticed a few important details. New Guy's breathing was out of control, if it could be called that. A more fitting term would be wheezing. Sweat covered his entire body, matting down is coat into sticky clumps. A faint stumble could be seen when he moved, putting his legs in awkward positions as he transitioned between hits. The one thing that did not seem off was the intensity of effort he gave to the exercise.

Though his focus showed his desire to continue, Trixie knew that his body was pushed too far. He had gone beyond the limits of what he could handle. Trixie decided to head over to him, and let him know that he should give it a rest.

"Hey." she said, now standing to his side. She made sure to stand back, knowing that a wild swing would not be in her favor. New Guy didn't respond. He kept going at the bag with his burned-out limbs, still managing for his hits to have power. "Hey!" she tried again, amping the volume a bit. This time, it worked. His head turned to look at her. His eyes shined for a moment with what would be best called cold fire, before dulling into his usual icy stare. His hits stopped as he turned to face the interruption.

Sure that she had his full attention, Trixie said, "You need to stop."

He continued to stare at her as he took in sporadic breaths, slowly working his way to speaking. "I... can't."

Trixie did not want to hear it. "You need to. No excuses."

He lowered his head, turning his stare into a glare. "I... can't."

She shook her head, not believing the foolishness that he was displaying. "You have pushed yourself too far. You need to stop before you do permanent damage to yourself. Hell, you'll be lucky if you can walk tomorrow."

"I... need to... keep going." He kept his glare, showing no signs of moving away from the bag.

Out of frustration, Trixie snorted. She couldn't believe the situation she found herself. New Guy was ready to destroy his own body without a second thought, and was unwilling to listen to reason. She couldn't guess why he would want to do something that foolish, but she knew what she had to do. Stop him. He wouldn't listen to her words, so she had to try another method. One that seemed more his language.

Trixie swung her leg out, aiming to collide with New Guy's shoulder. His eyes widened as he saw the hit coming for him, but in his tired state he couldn't react. A sharp grunt escaped from his throat as New Guy took the hit full on. He felt a surge of pain pass through his leg, forcing him to fold it in; he found himself kneeling on the floor.

As he made a move to stand, Trixie placed a hoof on the same shoulder she impacted. New Guy winced while she applied pressure to the throbbing muscle.

"Don't you even think of standing." Trixie said, looking down at him with contempt. "You are taking a break. A long one."

New Guy looked up at her. His body was showing signs that it agreed with her sentiment, but his eyes played the same song they always played. Still struggling with his breath, he tried speaking. "I... need to-"

"Shut it." Trixie said. "Trixie has just shown you a perfect example of why you should stop now. If you hadn't exhausted yourself, you might just have been able to react in time to stop her attack. You also wouldn't be in such a weak position from something so simple. And you especially wouldn't be doing this." She pushed down on New Guy's shoulder, causing him to wince more. "You are going to stop and rest, or Trixie might just have to knock you out."

They sat there for a moment, looking straight into the eyes of each other. The fire of Trixie's determination met with the ice of New Guy's stare, as neither moved. Eventually, the silence was broken by a single word uttered between labored breaths.

"Fine."

Trixie smirked, pleased in her victory. Much to the relief of New Guy, she let up on his shoulder.  "Good. Now rest up. Spend the next half-hour stretching and cooling down your muscles. Otherwise, tomorrow will be a very long day for you. And don't exercise for at least a day. You've worn yourself down too much for back-to-back sessions."

New Guy nodded, acknowledging what Trixie said. Satisfied, she nodded back, and headed for the door. She had spent enough time distracting herself. A bed was calling her name back in her room, and she felt like answering. But when she reached the doorway, a firm command stopped her from going out into the corridor.

"Wait."

Trixie turned back to face New Guy. He was standing up, looking straight at her. He was forcing his breath to go at a deep and slow pace. It was a common technique to use while the body recovered from oxygen deprivation. It was certainly helping him recover from the quick, shallow breaths he was taking earlier.

"Why did you stop me?" New Guy said, speaking through breathing out. It allowed him to speak without disrupting the rhythm his breath was at.

"Why shouldn't Trixie have? You were going too far." Trixie said, pointing her hoof at him.

"I'm going to rematch you. Letting me harm myself would help you." New Guy said.

"Look, most fighters are lucky to get one fight with a champion. Almost none get to go a second time. Trixie would be surprised if you survive the next two weeks."

"I will get another shot." he said, a tone of confidence in his voice. Trixie could have sworn she saw something in his eyes while he said that. However, it disappeared quickly, and she brushed it aside, thinking her mind was just playing games with her.

"Still," she said. "Trixie wasn't going to let you do that to yourself."

"Why would you care?"

Trixie paused at the question, thinking about the best way to answer it. It was true that she didn't have to stop him, and that letting him have at it would increase his chances of not making it to another match with her. He was a good fighter. Not to mention he had expressed his view quite blatantly that the loser should die. But she had to stop him. She debated whether or not to tell him some fabrication. Something like 'Trixie likes to play with her food before she eats it.' However, she felt a small nudge encourage her to just tell the truth.

Trixie brought her voice to a solemn tone as she talked, lowering her gaze to the ground. "Trixie knows what it's like to go too far. At first it won't make a difference. You don't feel like you did the wrong thing. Then you do it again, thinking that it will be fine. Each time is more damaging, but you feel no big difference. Eventually, you start to feel the pain. But it's too late. You've done the damage, and it's near impossible to fix it."

New Guy kept his gaze while he listened to what she had to say. When she finished he stood still, letting silence overtake the room. Trixie continued to look at the floor, knowing it would be easier to stare down than him. Eventually, the silence started to bother her. She started to shift from side to side, feeling the icy stare of New Guy on her.

"It wasn't you."

Trixie looked at New Guy, arranging her features into a look of confusion. He seemed to pick up the hint.

"You didn't ruin yourself." he stated, sure in his guess. "It was somebody else. Your body is fine."

Trixie smirked, raising an eyebrow for added effect. "Glad you think so, handsome."

New Guy gave a small snort, which Trixie guessed would be the only reaction she could get at this point. "What did they do?" he asked.

Trixie looked at him for a moment, before slowly shaking her head. A small smile played on her face while she said, "Nothing. It wasn't somebody else. It was Trixie."

"What did you do?" New Guy asked again, specifying the question to her.

Trixie took another moment to answer, pondering on whether his question warranted the truth. "You don't need to know. Besides, you should rest, and Trixie is going to bed. And if you try to pull this again tomorrow, she won't stop you. She will just let you deal with the consequences." With that she turned back to the doorway, heading out into the corridor, and going to answer the bed that was calling her.

New Guy stood looking at the empty doorway for a long moment. Shaking his head, he looked down at his hooves. He experimented with a few basic stretches, before finally easing himself into a full routine.

Arguments and Requests

"Come on! Show us something worth the effort! You two look like pigs trying to fuck!"

Trixie massaged her temples while Swift yelled at the contestants within the arena. They were stuck in some wrestling standstill; Both of them trying to gain an advantage over the other. Trixie didn't care. She was too busy focusing on the dull throb she felt in her skull, which was only being made worse by the loud insults shouted next to her.

Swift, who was too busy with his verbal abuse to notice Trixie in pain, shoved her arm, trying to get her attention. "Man, can you believe these wrestling types? I swear, they are the worst fighters I have ever seen. Hell, I wouldn't even call this fighting. It's just a sad attempt at gay sex."

Trixie continued to rub her temples, while she tried to ignore the chatty pegasus and the other occupants inside the VIP box. She contemplated an attempt to knock him out, before deciding that doing so would only result in his whining and/or an attempt to kill her.

Not getting the response he expected, Swift shoved Trixie again. "Hey, I know it's boring, but falling asleep? Come on. Even Gunner here is doing fine." he said, nodding towards the griffon sitting behind them. Gunner quickly waved a claw, indicating he did not want to be brought into whatever trouble Swift was now starting.

Trixie moved her hooves from her temples to her forehead, futilely hoping it would lessen the pain, and addressed the annoyance at her side. "Trixie is trying to ignore your incessant talking. Shoving her is not helping."

Swift smirked, leaning back on his chair. "Your attitude is friendly today." he said, with a tone of sarcasm. "Having headache problems?"

Sighing, Trixie dropped her hooves to her lap; she decided it wasn't helping. "Trixie had a late night."

Swift raised an eyebrow, leaning forward towards Trixie. She thought he looked like a cat; A cat that was looking to pounce. "Late night, huh? Keeping busy with some extra exercises." he said, emphasizing the 'extra' in a way that made Trixie want to test his skull with her hoof.

Ignoring the nagging voice encouraging her disgust, she decided to play along. "Why yes." she said, giving a sultry smile for effect. "Trixie tried to fall asleep last night, but she just couldn't. She tossed and turned before deciding to answer a small itch that just begged to be taken care of. She was going to take care of it herself, but she just happened to come upon somebody who needed the same thing. She didn't want to interfere though, so we took care of our problems on our own. It took her almost half an hour, but Trixie was able to finish. She was just so sweaty and tired, but definitely satisfied. He, however, was having a bit of a problem. So, Trixie decided to help out. He protested at first, but Trixie was able to change his mind. He was just so eager to push himself. Trixie had to admit she was impressed, but she knew she had to take control. She's sure that he didn't mind afterwards. After that, Trixie was able to enjoy her sleep even more."

By the time she had finished, Swift's eyes were as wide as they could go. His jaw hung limply, leaving his mouth large enough for a bird to nest. Taking a glance at Gunner, Trixie noticed that his reaction practically a copy of Swift's. 'Males'

With a sharp cough, Swift cleared his throat, and very pointedly looked back towards the arena. "Not exactly the response I was expecting. Well played." Gunner emphasized the point with a quick shake of his head, smirking away the oddity of the whole situation.

A quick yelp from the arena stole back the attention of the three champions. One of the fighters had managed to pin the other face-down, twisting his arm behind his back. It only took Trixie a short moment to see that the shoulder had been dislocated. A simple injury, but one that severely impacted a match's outcome. It was over; the only thing left was to wait for whether or not the loser left as a corpse.

Roars of the crowd rang throughout the arena, divided as usual on what should happen next. Trixie kept her focus on the winner, trying to discern what was running through his head, as he looked down upon the whimpering mess beneath him. One dragging moment later, the decision was made. The winner spit into the face of his victim, saying something that could not be pulled from the deafening static of the crowd. He then released the arm from his grip, and turned towards the exit. Using his good arm, the loser pulled the useless limb toward his chest, clutching it tight. Adrenaline, relief, and the reality of how close he came to death coursed though his body, while he openly sobbed on the arena floor.

While some medics trained their attention on the injured fighter, Swift turned his towards Trixie. His face shone with the confidence she had come to expect from the pegasus. His smirk was wide and bright, while his eyebrows arched lewdly. Trixie knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say, even before it was said.

"So. A partner, huh?"

**********

"Alright, let's see if I have this all down. After your fight, your opponent came back to you, and complained about being alive. So he then claimed that he was going to rematch and kill you. Then there was my fight, and the whole tough guy in the training room stunt. Then at night, you couldn't sleep, so you tried working out, only to find what's-his-face was already in the training room. Now, despite the fact that he plans to kill you, you stick around the guy while training. When you finish, you notice that he is overworking himself, and make him stop. Finally, to top it all off, you help him recover, and give him pointers on avoiding ruining his chances to kill you. Did I get everything? You know, besides the fact that he wants to kill you."

Trixie was now wondering whether telling Swift about last night was such a good idea. Eventually, she had to go back to the beginning and explain everything from there, because he couldn't understand last night alone. The story had taken so long, that the arena had vacated before it was finished. All that remained was a confused pegasus, a silent gryphon, and a slightly embarrassed unicorn (something she wouldn't let the others know.)

"Pretty much." Trixie said, answering Swift's question. She had made sure to leave out details of the nightmare, deciding that it was something that did not need to be discussed.

"Well," said Swift. "isn't this interesting. What are we in, an action flick? Seriously, this is sounding more like a rejected plot line for a Sylvester Stallione movie than anything else. Next, I suppose you two will be 'fighting the system', and breaking away from the arena, only to incur the wrath of the owners, who swear to hunt you down. Meanwhile, you and whatever-his-name-is will be busy making out in some grungy hotel room."

At hearing Swift's last statement, Trixie did a double take. "Ma-wha-huh?" was all she could manage to say.

Swift narrowed his eyes, focusing his look on the surprised champion. After a moment of staring, which only made Trixie more nervous than before, he threw his hooves into the air, letting out an exasperated "Gah!" He then pointed directly at Trixie, giving her a look of annoyance. "You guys are already going at it, aren't you?"

Trixie no longer doubted whether she was blushing, as she felt a wave of heat pass through her face. Recovering from the shock, she ignored the blush and raised an eyebrow at him in frustration. "Trixie begs your pardon?"

"I knew it." Swift said, placing a hoof over his face. "This has gone from b-rated action flick to over-ambitious porno."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but that is not what's happening."

"Really? Then try telling me what is happening, sweetheart."

"Exactly what Trixie told you."

"Oh, so you just helped the guy who has sworn to kill you."

"Yes. Yes she did."

"What, in the living fuck, were you thinking?"

Trixie went quiet, feeling reluctant about giving an answer. What she said had not gone over well so far, and she knew that the answer would only make her seem weak. Especially with how Swift was viewing the situation. But the impatient look he was giving her convinced her that only the truth would be accepted. "I felt sorry for him."

"Ah!" Swift exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air again. "You felt sorry, huh? Then I guess everything is fine! The world's all bright fucking sunshine!"

"What the hell is it to you?" Trixie asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "It's not like you're the one he's going to kill."

"Well, no. But, uh, you see, I just, well, it's kind of. Hmmm." Swift trailed off on his train of thought, scrunching his face in confusion.

Noticing his hesitance, Trixie started to grin victoriously. The smirk grew wider as she moved her face closer to Swift's, making him move back in confusion. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

His eyes went wide as he stumbled to react to the accusation. "W-what?! I-! You-! Ha! Right. No way. Nice try, but I make the girls jealous, not the other way around. Hell, I don't even care. It's not my problem you're obliviously playing nice with your possible executioner. Isn't that right, Gunner?"

Both arguers looked over to their friend, who had, expectedly, stayed silent throughout the entire fiasco. Thought, seeing him made them realize that his silence was a bit more intense than usual. He sat stock still; wide eyes were traveling from Trixie to Swift, and back, endlessly bouncing between the two sides.

Not getting his answer fast enough, Swift prodded at Gunner with his hoof. "Hey. What do you say?" Gunner responded by flailing his arms side to side, not wanting to get involved in the train wreck in front of him.

"Come on, man! Help me out here." said Swift, which was promptly answered with a firm shake of Gunner's head.

"Well," Trixie said, patting the gryphon on the back. "at least he knows how to pick his battles."

Swift gave a quick glare to his silent friend, practically growling the word "traitor", before turning and pointing a hoof at Trixie. "Look, if you want to act buddy-buddy with what's-his-face, then have at it. But it won't end well. I can guarantee that. I'm warning you now, before it comes down to a death match between you two. You should know how well that will pan out."

Trixie nodded, acknowledging the message trying to be given. "Don't worry. Trixie knows"

"Good. I wouldn't want anything happening to that pretty face of yours."

Trixie rolled her eyes at the phrase that was definitely a Swift phrase. "Of course not. Now, Trixie needs to take a jog, so she will be taking her leave."

"Ugh." Swift said, slumping in his chair. "Running. Whoever decided running was a good use of free time should be trapped on a moving treadmill until he dies of exhaustion. But if that's how you keep your figure so nice to look at, keep running, sweetheart."

Trixie didn't even want to warrant a response to that. Instead, she turned to head out, leaving the other two champions to bicker about Gunner's 'betrayal.' She tried to catch as much as possible, hearing Swift's remarks on something called a 'bro code', while she left the VIP box, and rounded the corner to the corridor. Though, she forgot it completely when she saw what was just around the corner.

There, leaning against the wall, was New Guy, looking straight at her. Trixie immediately stopped walking, blinking a few times to see if she was just imagining things. She wasn't. Both of them stared at each other, Trixie feeling a bit unnerved that the topic of her recent conversation was just nearby. The drilling coldness of his gaze did not help. It wasn't until he nodded that she snapped back into thinking properly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, pointing at him.

"Waiting for you." he responded, not changing his usual look.

Trixie was now growing weary, finding the situation to be a bit too odd. She could only imagine what Swift would say about it. Still, she was in the middle of it. There was no point in over thinking the circumstances. "What for?"

At this question, New Guy seemed to soften a bit. The intensity of his gaze retracted slightly, as if he was, well, reserved about that he was going to say. That reaction alone was weird in and of itself, given the attitude Trixie had grown so accustomed to, but it all threw itself out of the window when she heard his answer.

"I need your help."

If it was possible, Trixie was sure she was about to burn a hole through New Guy's skull by just staring at him. He was asking for help. From her. Just yesterday, he was claiming that he wouldn't lose to her a second time, to the point of 'losers must die.' Now he was sitting in front of her, asking for help. He even looked sheepish about it. At least it seemed sheepish. It was hard to tell with the icy stare of death.

To be honest, Trixie didn't know how to react to the question. She could think of a few answers, but the situation didn't seem to fit such pleasantries as "with what?" or "why me?" She was drawing a complete blank on what to say, which only served to frustrate her more as she wracked her mind for a good answer. Thankfully, she felt a small tug pull her mind to a response that seemed comfortable enough for her to attempt.

"Trixie doesn't think it would be a good idea to help you. She's already given you enough assistance."

The answer did not seem to phase New Guy. Given with how they had been getting along, the reaction was probably expected. Instead he did something that surprised Trixie again; something that she wished would stop happening.

New Guy lowered his head, putting it parallel to the ground and level with his knees. His ears pinned back in a show of humility. His eyes stared straight at Trixie, filled again with the intensity that was more familiar to her. He was bowing to her. The final piece that made the picture complete was a single word, uttered in a low tone.

"Please."

Trixie was sure that her jaw had hit the floor. Though, if she was showing an amazement, New Guy was not reacting to it in any way. He kept his position while he waited for an answer.

Even with the surprising humility that was displayed in front of her, Trixie felt reluctant to help. "What is it that you need help with?"

New Guy shot back into a standing position, his moment of humility over. "My next opponent is a unicorn. I need training."

Trixie raised an eyebrow at the request. "You want Trixie to train you in fighting a unicorn?" He nodded once in response. "And why should she help you learn to fight a unicorn?"

New Guy reacted the same way he had earlier. His gaze and features softened slightly, signaling to Trixie that this answer was going to be a doozy.

"You are the only one I can trust."

By this point, Trixie was sure that she had run out of surprises for the day. Her rational mind was screaming by this point. She kept thinking back to the conversation that she had just gone through with Swift. She could swear she heard his voice ring though her head, as she remembered what he said. 'You know, besides that fact that he wants to *kill** you.'* But with all the jumble in her head, there was one thought that stood out. One single nag that pressured her to answer in the way that she knew she shouldn't.

"Be in the training room at midnight. Trixie will help you."

Given the odd behavior he had been exhibiting, she would not have been surprised if New Guy jumped for joy. Though, his reaction was nowhere near the oddity that she had been expecting. He simply nodded, and turned around to head away. 'More his style.' she thought to herself. Suddenly, she thought of something that made her a bit nervous.

"Hey!" she called out to New Guy, who had walked a fair distance away. He stopped, and swiveled his head to look straight at Trixie, ears at attention. "Did you hear our conversation?" After a moment of silence, he nodded. Remembering that he was the subject of said conversation, she started to inwardly panic. Though, she decided to make sure that she was justified in her worry. "How much?"

"All of it." he said, not changing his gaze. At that, he turned back, and continued to head down the corridor. Trixie sat there in disbelief for a moment, before facehoofing, hard, and wishing she had never discussed last night with the others.

Thoughts and Training

Alright, so now I have a new scapegoat slave edit monkey editor. KommandoLando. So if you see something wrong with this, go wring his ass out. Cause I'm just too lazy to do it.

Trixie had to agree with Swift. Running was one of the most annoying ways to spend free time. She was only going for three miles, but one mile was all it took for her to get tired. Still, she had to keep going; her stamina had to be kept high. So, with a mile and a half to go, Trixie was panting her way through the exhaustion with determination. At least she wasn’t going overboard like New Guy had.

One thing Trixie had found about running, was that even with burning limbs and lungs, thinking was not deterred. Remembering New Guy only made her mind anchor itself onto him. And so, her thoughts turned towards the stallion, and the most recent conversation she had with him.

To be honest, she did not like what she had just agreed to. Training a potential opponent inside her league was not the brightest idea in the first place. Training him to fight a unicorn(which, last she checked, she was one) seemed even worse. Every rational corner of her head was clamoring for her attention, arguing the morbid and wholly realistic outcome of taking this course of action.

Yet, there was one thought. One stationary and relentless thought, that held back the waves of negative possibilities. ‘You are the only one I can trust.’ That one phrase stood its ground, anchoring itself in Trixie’s mind. It played over and over again, until she was almost sure she was muttering it.

‘Why?’ she kept asking herself. ‘Why would he think like that? Why would he say that?’ It had seemed so unreal at the time, and each time she thought of it, it only grew more strange. She could not think of any reason for him to trust her, or why she should help him simply because of it. She found herself thinking circles, and not making any new progress on the issue. In fact, she had been thinking so deeply, that the distance that she had run did not register to her, until she was half-a-mile past her goal.

Trixie slowed herself to a walk, allowing her breathing and heart rate to start settling back to their normal tempos. Setting her course to head back to her room, she came to a conclusion. She was asking her questions to the wrong person. Instead of frustrating herself, she decided that she would have to ask the source of her confusion. Tonight. Whether he wanted to answer or not.

**********

After her run, Trixie went straight to bed. Knowing that she would be up late, she figured that some extra sleep to tie her over would help. Not to mention, the added bonus of avoiding other fighters. Especially Swift and Gunner. She did not want to let it slip what was planned for the night. Not after what was said earlier.

Despite her fears that it would happen, Trixie’s sleep was unhampered by any nightmares, or even dreams. If it wasn’t for the slight numbness in her limbs, and the lethargy she felt, she wouldn’t have known she even fell asleep. Channeling the natural forces of magic through her horn, Trixie used an ancient, but common, spell to check the positions of the sun and moon. She found that she had conveniently slept through to half-an-hour before the training. With that knowledge in hand, she pulled herself out of bed, and headed out to the training room.

All the questions that plagued her mind during the run, came back in full force, as Trixie walked forward. Her anxiety steadily grew with each step, making her wonder more and more about how exactly she planned to confront New Guy. He didn’t seem to be that sociable, and hasn’t been too keen on answering questions from others.

‘You’re the only one I can trust.’

Though, she did seem to have an advantage over anybody else. At least, she hoped that was an advantage. It was the only way she could see him giving her any sort of answer. It was the only chip she had to bet.

So, with questions and a healthy amount of stress filling her mind, Trixie walked on until she found herself inside the doorway of the training room. By habit, she took a sweeping glance at the entire room. She didn’t find anything that she didn’t expect. The weights were in place, the bags were hanging, the practice ring was empty, and New Guy was laying down in the corner with his eyes closed. Almost exactly like he was yesterday. It made Trixie wonder just how long he actually sat there during the day.

Looking at him, she figured she might as well get his attention. But before she could speak up, New Guy’s ears twitched once, and his eyes shot open. Almost instantly, they focused on Trixie, burrowing at her with his typical icy stare. They sat there for a moment, Trixie not really sure how to react. Thankfully, she did not have to make the first move, as he stood up and walked over to where she standing. When he reached two arms lengths away from her, he stopped and nodded, signaling a greeting. She returned the gesture, nodding back her own greeting.

Then came the silence. Trixie started to notice that she was having a hard time coming up with something to say. She had been planning on straight up getting to the questions that had been bouncing in her mind. Though, she was finding it difficult to actually say. Especially when she was standing in front of New Guy, who hadn’t moved since their nod exchange. He just stayed where he was, staring at her in cold patience. To Trixie, it was unnerving.

‘Wait.’ she thought. Trixie was getting nervous. About talking to a guy. Nervous about talking to New Guy. ‘Meanwhile, you and whatever-his-name-is will be busy making out in some grungy hotel room.’ She was really regretting talking to Swift.

After a few long moments of silence, New Guy took the first course of action. “What do I need to do?”

The question jarred Trixie back to the situation in front of her. (And interrupted a nice fantasy of beating Swift.) Looking around, she settled her eyes on the empty ring that took up half of the room. It wasn’t much; The floor was just a big mat, which was roped off from the rest of the room by a thick wire. But it was perfect for what Trixie had in mind.

“Follow me,” she said, turning towards the ring. As she headed to it, New Guy fell in step behind her. After taking a moment to get over the wire, Trixie took position in the center of the ring, facing New Guy.

Putting the questions aside, Trixie looked straight at the stallion across from her, smirking confidently. “So,” she said, “You want to know how to fight a unicorn?” A single nod was the response she received. “Well then, Trixie hopes you’re ready. Because she will not play nice with you. To start with, Trixie will use some basic attacks. All you have to do, is defend. Think you can handle it?” Another nod. “We’ll see.”

A greyish-magenta aura surrounded Trixie’s horn as she channeled magical energy outwards. She focused on surrounding New Guy with the aura, who was tensing up in anticipation of an attack. Baring his teeth in frustration, he darted his eyes back and forth, reflexively trying to catch any sign of where the assault could come from.

With New Guy surrounded in the pulsing glow of her magic, Trixie watched as he tried his hardest to prepare for an attack he couldn’t see. In all honesty, she wanted to laugh. Though, she couldn’t blame him. Knowing that an attack was coming was stressful, but not being able to even guess what would happen was killer to instincts. But she wasn’t here to sympathize with him. She was here to train him. So, she attacked.

To Trixie, it was amusing. All she did was give a simple magical push to his side, but New Guy’s reaction was almost theatrical. His eyes widened, and his body flexed in surprise. Two of his legs lost contact with the ground, leaving him tilted in the air. After a brief moment, New Guy moved his hooves that were contacting the ground away from the push, in an awkward shuffle to reset his balance. After a moment of shifting, all four of his legs were back on the ground, planted back into a fighting stance.

After witnessing the entire debacle, Trixie could not help but laugh. It had just seemed to amateurish, especially compared to how he seemed during their fight. Though, she only used illusion magic then, and hadn’t used any to attack him directly. Seeing his reaction only made her wish she had.

New Guy, however, was not enjoying the laughter. Still cloaked in the magic aura, he turned a cold glare upon Trixie. He said nothing as her laughing slowed down into a low chuckle.

“Well, that was entertaining,” said Trixie, in a teasing tone. “Did you have enough to drink? Or should we order another round?” New Guy narrowed his eyes, signaling his distaste for the joke. “Alright, alright. Joking aside, we are going to do that again. Let’s see if you don’t trip over yourself this time. Ready?” She received a nod in response, and then started to apply the proper force again.

The exercise was repeated several more times, each with the same outcome as the last. What Trixie had found funny at first, was beginning to annoy her. She was applying a short shot of force, and it was throwing New Guy off balance too easily. She was sure that he should not be having this much trouble.

By the twentieth attempt, he had shown no signs of improving, and Trixie was running thin on patience. After his awkward recovery, New Guy stood still, waiting for the next push. Instead, the aura that surrounded him vanished, as Trixie cut off the magic channeling through her horn. He turned a confused look in her direction, questioning her silently.

“It’s hopeless,” Trixie said, shaking her head. “Trixie doesn’t even get it. You look like an inexperienced foal getting tossed around by his older brother. Have you ever fought a unicorn before?”

New Guy stood still for a moment, not showing any sign of answering, before slowly moving his head back and forth. “Besides you, no,” he said.

Trixie could not help but facehoof. It seemed obvious in hindsight, but she had been hoping that he would at least have some experience to work with. Starting from scratch was not something she expected she would have to do. But she didn’t want to walk out on this now.

“Alright then. Trixie guesses that she will have to run you through the basics, instead of going straight for the exercises. You might want to sit down. This could take a while.” New Guy did what she suggested, settling down on the floor beneath him.

“Now,” Trixie started, “obviously fighting against magic is different than pure physical fighting. The same basic principles apply, like attacking and defending. But, the major difference is in the perception and reaction that the opponent has to apply. Like this, hold out your arm.”

New Guy complied, holding one of his arms in front of him. He looked at Trixie, waiting for whatever she had up her sleeve. Without warning, she shot her arm out, aiming to collide her hoof against the side of his arm. The moment before impact, he reacted, letting the impact push his arm back with minimal effect. New Guy focused a glare at Trixie, obviously not enjoying the surprise attack. She smirked back at him, reveling in the annoyance she caused him.

“See that?” she said. “Now, let’s do that again.” New Guy raised an eyebrow, showing his apprehension at following her command. Rolling her eyes, Trixie motioned for him to continue.

After a reluctant moment, he held his arm in front of himself again, giving Trixie a wary look. This time, his arm was surrounded in the aura of Trixie’s magic. As soon as he realized it, New Guy tensed up, and sat ready for an attack. Trixie watched as he squirmed slightly, trying to anticipate what was coming. She allowed herself a small grin, as she applied force to the arm encased in her magic.

New Guy’s eyes widened, as his arm moved from the invisible push. It moved less than when Trixie had physically hit his arm, but the way he looked at it showed that it felt worse. Good. She was getting to him.

“Did you feel that?” she asked. New Guy, who was examining his arm intensely, looked up at Trixie and nodded slowly. Through the cold gaze, she thought she could see an inkling of understanding. “Good. Your instincts are sharp. However, that’s just the problem.” New Guy raised an eyebrow, questioning the statement. “You see, when Trixie hits your arm, you relaxed and let the arm take the shock. But when she used magic, you tensed up. You locked your arm in place with your shoulder. That doesn’t seem like much, but it’s important. You see, it shifted your-”

“Balance,” said New Guy, cutting off Trixie. His gaze turned to his arm, then back at her in understanding.

Trixie smiled, glad to see he was getting it. “Exactly. It wasn’t much because your arm was out, but remember when it was your whole body?”

New Guy nodded. “I couldn’t stand straight.”

“Right. You tense your muscles, so that you can take the attack. That doesn’t work as well as you would think. Do you know why?”

New Guy took a moment to look to the side, shifting his eyes around, as if literally looking for the answer. Looking back at Trixie, he shook his head in a definitive no.

Grinning, she took her arm, and pointed it to her face. “This. Your eyes. Well, your senses in general, but for the most part it’s your sight. When you can see where the attack is coming from, you have a better chance of reacting, and letting the hit not affect you. Your instincts tell you to tense up, and take the hit, or block it. That sometimes works in the ring, but it certainly won’t work against magic. If you can’t sense the attack, then you can’t react. Do you understand?” A nod. “Perfect. Now, how to fix this. Well, there is good news and bad news. How long do we have before your fight?”

“Six days.” New Guy said.

“Ah,” said Trixie, putting a hoof to her chin in thought. “Well, that’s the bad news. This will not be fixed in that amount of time. Trixie can certainly get you to improve, but this is much more difficult than just simple techniques.”

New Guy looked down at his hooves, silently staring in concentration. After a few silent moments of thinking, he brought his gaze up to meet Trixie’s. “And the good news?”

“That might be all we need.” said Trixie, grinning once again. “Most unicorns can’t summon up more strength than they can physically push. They can barely manage to knock over a full-grown stallion, and they certainly won’t use up their magic by going all out. It’s not like they’re up against an Ursa Major, or something like that.”

A raised eyebrow from New Guy indicated that he didn’t fully understand. Rolling her eyes, Trixie explained. “You see, we need you to relax. Tensing up against magic will only let you get pushed around. Your instincts are telling you to react to an incoming attack. Well, we now need to get you to react to an attack while it’s happening. Do you understand?”

New Guy nodded with hesitance, which made Trixie wonder just how much he actually got. “Basically, instead of relaxing right before the attack, you need to relax all the time. When in stance, when you anticipate an attack, and even when attacking. We need to override your instincts and let your consciousness take control. Now do you get it?”

This time, New Guy’s nod had more confidence behind it. “Great. Now, let’s get back to what we were trying earlier. Trixie will push you with her magic, and you will try not to fall on your ass. Sounds reasonable?”

One final nod was given, as New Guy stood up for the next round of training. Trixie couldn't help but smirk, as she lit her horn with magical energy, surrounded him with it, and started the exercise anew.

Questions and Twists

Trixie could tell that her explanation helped. New Guy was doing much better than before she had instructed him to relax. He still stumbled and left openings she could easily exploit, but it became much more manageable. The time it took for him to recover was shorter and left a fairly small window of opportunity.

At least it wasn't like earlier. Immediately after her short lesson, they tried the exercise again. The first time, he fell flat on his side. He had relaxed so much that when he was pushed, he couldn't react properly. After Trixie finished a good round of laughter, which was responded to with a cold glare, she stated that being relaxed didn't mean falling asleep on one's legs. She also explained how dangerous it was to be on the ground with a unicorn opponent. A consistent pressure downward could easily pin most, and it wasn't hard to cast on a fallen foe. He had to stay standing at all costs.

So, now an hour and a half later, New Guy was able to keep himself mostly straight while Trixie pushed at him from multiple angles. He was progressing quite well... for today. She knew that he would have to restart tomorrow. As soon as they stop training, his instincts would override his mind, and his tense reactions would take precedence over his relaxed state. It was the true difficulty of training. Learning a new way to do things was easy. Learning to do it without thinking about it would be the real challenge he would face.

But for now, Trixie had to stop. Simple as a magical push was, consecutive pushes had a way of tiring her out. Cutting off her magic, she signaled for New Guy to sit. He followed the command, seeming to be as tired as Trixie was. They sat there for a moment, their breathing slightly rugged and a small amount of sweat clinging to their bodies.

“So,” said Trixie, smirking over at the stallion, “was it good for you?”

New Guy snorted in response, giving her an incredulous look. With his cold eyes, it was almost deadly. “Are we done?” he asked. To Trixie, it almost sounded like he was bored.

“Yes,” she replied. “We've done enough for today. Besides, Trixie is sure now would be a good time for sleep. She will see you again, same time, same place. Okay?”

New Guy nodded, standing up to head out of the practice ring. As he crossed under the wire that separated it from the rest of the room, Trixie's mind kicked into gear. All the questions that evaded her earlier came crashing through the forefront of her thoughts. A sudden impulse ran through her, and she acted without thinking.

“Wait!”

New Guy stopped mid-step, turning his head to look back at her. With those piercing eyes looking through her, Trixie almost lost the will to speak. Why did that gaze bother her so much?

“Earlier, when you asked for her help, Trixie asked why her.” Trixie said, hesitance slowing her words. “You said it was because she was the only one you could trust. Is that true?”

New Guy kept his gaze firmly set on Trixie as he slowly nodded once.

“Why?” Trixie asked, curiosity emboldening her. “She was your opponent. She could have killed you. You even wanted her to. Not to mention, you plan on fighting her again. She could kill you then instead. Why trust her?”

New Guy stood still for a moment, not taking his eyes off Trixie. He let out a soft snort, as he turned his body to face back at Trixie. Sitting down, his eyes shifted slightly, looking more over Trixie's shoulder than directly at her.

“You helped me. Here. With the punching bag.”

Trixie raised an eyebrow at him, which he probably didn't see given that he was focusing his sight on something else. “All Trixie did was stop you from overworking yourself.”

“You could have let me. It would have helped you.” New Guy's gaze shifted over to the side of Trixie.

“Well, maybe she just likes tough opponents. It's no fun when they're too easy.”

New Guy's focus moved again, towards the floor directly in front of himself. “No. You helped me because you wanted to.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Trixie found herself looking directly into the freezing eyes of New Guy, as he brought his gaze up to meet hers. The intensity was greater than he normally exerted, as he looked at her in the most serious expression he could probably create.

“Yes.”

Trixie just stared. He meant it. He genuinely trusted her, simply because she prevented him from overworking himself. Given the nature that was usual for most fighters in the arena, it did not make sense. Something like helping him should have made him trust her less. He should be questioning her motives. He should be keeping his distance while trying to figure out her dastardly plot for his demise.

Yet, he did the exact opposite. Trixie could not fully understand it, but she believed it. Looking at the stallion before her, as he pierced her with his gaze, she felt something swell within her. Warmth. A bubbly, giddy warmth. She felt it simmer in her chest while she looked at him.

What was that feeling? Respect? No, it felt too personal to be respect. Admiration? No, it felt more substantial than that. Lov-? No. It couldn't be that. That would be impossible, and childish. Trixie settled on it being gratitude. Gratitude that she was trusted, even if he was supposed to kill her.

“Fine.” Trixie said, hoping her internal soul-searching didn't show, “Trixie helped you because she didn't want to see you hurt yourself. Happy?”

New Guy nodded, softening his expression. Though, he seemed bored than happy. Did he ever smile?

“Still,” Trixie started, “It's odd that you would ask for her help after what you said. Promising to kill somebody is usually not followed with friendly interactions. Having second thoughts?”

New Guy shifted his weight, showing discomfort at the straight-forward question. His face remained stoic, but his body gave away everything. “Kind of,” he replied. Trixie almost thought she heard reluctance in his voice.

“That doesn't sound very descriptive,” she said. “Care to explain?”

At this, New Guy shifted again. This time, however, he shifted everything. His weight moved from one side to the other in a slow, rhythmic motion. His eyes glanced around to various targets, seeming to polarize away from Trixie. A small scowl teased at his mouth. Trixie had hit a nerve. She couldn't tell if that was good or bad, but she hoped it was the former.

“I was wrong.”

Trixie sat looking at the stallion, whose discomfort was very visible, and waited for more. Unfortunately for her, he just sat there, shifting around. While he had given her an answer, it didn't make sense to Trixie. Wrong about what? She raised an eyebrow at him, hoping he would catch it and continue to explain. No dice. He kept looking around, keeping his gaze away from Trixie.

She was sure New Guy wasn't going to continue unless she coaxed him to. Letting impatience get the better of her, she tapped her hoof against the floor. Just as she hoped, New Guy stopped shifting and glanced towards the sound, which left him settling his sight on Trixie. She raised her eyebrow at him again, adding a hoof motion to indicate that he should continue his train of thought.

He continued staring for a moment, seeming to process what Trixie wanted from him. A quick snort escaped from him, as he removed his gaze from her and set it straight onto the floor.

“When you didn't kill me, I thought you were mocking me. It was like you thought I wasn't worth your time. Like I wasn't even a threat. I was wrong.”

New Guy kept his sights locked on the ground in front of him, which Trixie took as a sign of humility. To her, he seemed humble and apologetic. She could only imagine how much that took for him to acknowledge that he was wrong, let alone tell her. Still, it seemed somewhat trivial to her. Letting someone live was an insult? Compared to how the other fighters viewed the potential of death, this seemed a polar opposite.

“So, by letting you live, Trixie was insulting you?” she asked, thinking it a better idea to ask him instead of her internal monologue. New Guy nodded, not letting his gaze leave its spot. “Where could you possibly get that idea?”

New Guy shifted again, settling his weight over to his other side. “I... picked it up.”

“....You don't want to tell Trixie, do you?” While it was a question, Trixie said it more like a statement. In response, she got a small shake of the head.

Trixie sighed, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “Fine. Trixie won't pry into that subject. If you wanted to tell her more, you would have. Besides, she's pulled enough information from you already. You need to get some sleep, and playing twenty questions is getting boring. Trixie will see you here at midnight tomorrow. Er, today. Got it?”

Avoiding looking at Trixie, New Guy gave a curt nod, and walked away from the ring. She wondered if revealing how he felt made him feel worse. Trixie knew there were people that didn't like to be open about themselves. From what she saw, New Guy fit that description. Was there something from his past bothering him, or did he just not like admitting he was wrong? Trixie sure wasn't a fan of apologizing herself. Adding the fact that he promised death to the equation would probably make it much harder to accept.

Realizing that she was going nowhere asking herself questions (something that happened too much lately), Trixie let it go. 'Trixie seems to have gotten more questions than answers. she thought, sighing in her mind. 'Not exactly what she hoped for.' Coming up on her room, she decided to relax herself. Sleep needed to come first. Sleep, then questions, then existential crisis about who wanted to kill whom.

With that, Trixie opened the door, flopped onto her bed, and proceeded to fall asleep.

**********

The gargantuan cave loomed ahead of Trixie, taunting her to enter. She felt a magnetic pull tug at her as she took her first step inside. She felt the fear fill her. She knew what was in the cave. She knew how foolish she was for seeking out the Ursa Minor. Yet, she had to. She had worked hard to reach this end; she had worked too hard to consider giving up. She needed to do this. Still, fear fought against Trixie, filling her chest with a heavy weight. The dark recesses of the cave didn't help. Though, she felt like something wasn't quite right. Something was missing.

Then she felt it. Or rather, didn't feel it. There were no sounds emanating from down the cave. No vibrations rumbled the walls. Not even a drop of water could be heard. Given the giant size of the beast within, Trixie was sure there had to be some sort of sound. But there wasn't. Just a deafening silence. With the odd lack of sound assaulting her senses, Trixie forged on through the cave. She glanced around at every crevice, sure that something was going to appear. It wasn't until she reached a large, open cavern that she saw the first sign of life. It wasn't what she expected.

Laying down, eyes closed, in the middle of the open space was New Guy. Trixie froze when she saw him. She had come for an Ursa Minor, and wound up with a fighter from the arena. One that she knew personally. Not what she had in mind. She stood stock still, hoping not to disturb him, while she tried to process the new information.

New Guy, it seemed, didn't want to give her the pleasure. Without warning, his eyes opened and locked onto Trixie. While she would describe his gaze at any other time as ice, Trixie felt fire from his stare. In one fluid motion, New Guy stood and walked in her direction.

As he approached, Trixie couldn't help but notice how he looked. It was hard not to. The way he walked sent waves through the muscles that formed his body. Powerful strides shifted strength throughout his limbs, all colliding in the core of his chest. There was no doubt about him being a fighter.

Trixie was speechless. She didn't dare move herself for fear of affecting what was in front of her. Instead, it affected her.

Without hesitation, New Guy closed the gap between them. Before Trixie could form a coherent thought, a sudden pain shot through her skull. It was soon followed by more as New Guy laid a barrage of attacks against the mare. Before she knew it, she was on the ground. Pain raced through her body, as it registered just how much damage she took. Looking up, her eyes met those of her attacker. They appeared to her as a living fire.

After a moment of silent staring, a single hoof raised itself, and came crashing down on Trixie's sight.

**********

With a sharp intake of air, Trixie awoke. She lay still for a moment, trying to determine where she was and what she just saw. After no real explanation came forth, she laid a limb over her eyes, blocking out the world. To no one in particular, Trixie asked a single question.

“What the hell was that?”