Morning arrives, and exhaustion accompanies it. Concern, excitement, and all-consuming fear kept sleep from me until the last few hours of the night. Cracking my eyes open, I groan as my clock hanging on the wall comes into view. 5:30, joy. Woke up right on time. I’ve always had a knack for waking up right when I need to, no matter how tired I am. I crawl out of bed and end up tumbling to the floor; I didn’t bother to put my legs beneath me. Coffee. I need coffee.

Standing up, the grogginess vanishes like fog when the sun rises. What I’m going to today, even though I have no idea what it’s going to be, is going to be bad. A quick glance at the personalized letter from the announcer confirms it.

Walking down the stairs to the single bathroom of the house, I ignite my horn, turn on the coffee maker and enter the bathroom. I splash water on my face in an attempt to clear my thoughts and calm myself for my impending doom. It fails. Miserably. Water drips down my muzzle as I look at myself in the mirror.

A scar reaches across my muzzle from my first fight when my opponent slashed me across the snout with a knife spell. My deep purple eyes gaze back at me, wide and unprepared for the day.

I cast my eyes down, unable to think it might be the last time I see them. The strong scent of coffee hits my nose, and I head back to the kitchen. I fill a cup and take a sip, almost immediately regretting it. With my stomach turning from fear, adding a hot liquid just made it worse.

Pushing my mouth closed, I wait for the queasiness to pass. Once my stomach is calm, I take another, smaller sip, knowing I need this and continue to push through the nerves induced nausea.

I throw some bread in the toaster and pull a jar of peanut butter out of the cupboard, deciding on a lighter breakfast. The toaster pops, and I spread the peanut butter and shove the bread down my throat.

Trotting quickly but soundlessly up the stairs, I enter my room and grab my armor, my magenta aura pulling it towards me. I slide the chest plate on and hook it to the back and side pieces. Armored and protected, I prepare to leave, twisting as I exit my room to grab the letter. I figure it might help somewhere or be needed as a pass.

Anxiety at being late speeds me along my path. I opt to carry the letter in my mouth so as not to attract any unwanted attention from the glow of my horn in the dark hours of the morning. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, I refuse to think about what might be coming. Scaling the ladder into the tunnels, I prepare to be polite and compliant. Taking route seven, I try not to think about how I could have avoided this and not put my parents in danger.

I enter the open street and head towards the arena entrance. Arriving at the giant door that blocks passage to all but fighters and paying spectators, I am surprised to find it already open and a guard standing in front of it watching me approach. Slowing down as I near the door, I grab the letter with my magic and start to show it to him, but he just waves me through.

The door grinds shut behind me as I enter the hallways and am yet again surprised to find another guard waiting for me. He beckons to me and I follow him, taking the time to examine him thoroughly to determine the best way to bring him down quickly and quietly if I need to escape.

He is a light gray pegasus with a startlingly orange mane and tail that are short and ragged. His armor is thick and a dark platinum, fading slightly as it gets closer to his hooves. A short sword hangs in a scabbard looped across his chest, leaving the handle within easy reach of his mouth but not hindering wing movement. A permanent scowl arcs across his muzzle.

Calculations begin. Best way to quickly take him down would be to go for the wings. Pegasi are sensitive on their wings, break one and their minds are clouded with pain. Once he’s incapacitated, knock him to the ground if he isn’t already there and brace my hooves against his head. A quick twist, and his neck will be snapped, leaving me free to escape.

Fortunately it doesn’t come down to that, and soon we arrive at an ornate oak door. My escort knocks firmly twice. The door swings open a moment later, and my vision is filled with a ridiculously handsome stallion.

A copper mane sweeps across his forehead, ending just above his brilliant green eyes. A short tail ends in a nicely groomed point. The tips of his ears, muzzle, and hooves are all a deep ocean blue that fades to a sky blue for the rest of his fur. A perfectly tailored jacket hides his cutiemark, and a charming grin graces his face. I notice he has neither wings nor a horn as he steps aside and waves me into the richly-fashioned room beyond.

“Hello, my dear! I’m glad you could join us today.” The grin on his face stretches. “You made the right choice coming. Just do as I say, and your mom and dad will be just fine.”

I grind my teeth. This stallion threatens me, and yet the way he says it makes it seem like a kind comment.

“I would prefer if you would keep my family out of this, but I can see that it’s already too late for that,” I snipe back managing to keep my voice calm and smooth.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the fighting spirit you have, considering the way you’ve single-hoofedly become a reigning champion here, but I am still amazed at how you haven’t succumbed to nerves yet.” He flashes me another charming grin and continues on. “You’re going to need that fighting spirit today, considering what I have planned for you.”

I just keep watching him as he circles me, but I blanch inside. I was hoping it would simply be a meeting to ‘congratulate’ me on my abilities, something simple and quick that wouldn’t have me fighting. My hopes have been dashed, and now I fear for my life even more than before.

“Sit down, please.” It’s not a request. “I’m hoping I can correctly assume that you are wondering what exactly you are doing here.” He studies me as I nod. “Alrighty then, I’m not gonna tell you the exact details, but here is the general information that won’t ruin the surprise.” The formalities drop and he levels me with a hard stare. “You will fight in my arena today, and you will fight somepony who, while not exactly willingly--” he chuckles “--has come to compete against you. Refuse, and watch everything you know and love burn to the ground; win… and I’ll set you free.”

He pauses his monologue and waits for me to say something. I decide to give him the satisfaction and sate my confusion by asking, “What exactly do you mean, free?”

The blue stallion in front of me grins like a predator cornering its prey. “You see my dear, you’re not truly free. I am with you wherever you go. I always have somepony following you. You can never get away from me, and you never will unless you win this fight. Backing out won’t save you. I have every fighter worth their stuff followed. Even the champion you will be going up against has been under my surveillance for ages.” He looks at me, waiting for a reaction. I don’t give him one.

The stallion walks over to a golden decoration standing on the table between us. “There is one hour until the the fight is scheduled to take place. You will be prepared by one of my stylists. Cooperate with her. Everypony who is anypony is coming today-” he swings his head around to meet my gaze “-do not disappoint.”

The guard steps forward, pointing his sword threateningly. I follow another, and they lead me out of the room and down a hallway. We circle around, turning left, then right, then right again. The tactic succeeds in thoroughly confusing me, ensuring I cannot find my own way out.

They bring me to a room with a light yellow unicorn in it. The guards force me to take off my armor and sit in a chair. Once I’m seated, the unicorn comes over. She starts my ‘preparation’ by trimming the ends of my mane and tail so they're uneven and ragged. She then takes deep blue paint and proceeds to style designs onto my fur. The paint is itchy, and my mane makes me look like a ragged adventurer. I hate this mare. I was always sure to keep my mane and tail cleanly cut in a straight line; I hoped it would help me hold onto some of my moral and sanity, not looking like the killer I am. She destroys that feeling with styling scissors.

She finishes her painting and has me slide back into my armor. On my way out the door, I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror she has hanging on the wall. The blue paint curls down my horn while staying out of the leylines that help me channel my magic. It meets up with the stripes on the sides and front of my ears on my cheeks. From there it curls across my muzzle, highlighting the scar. The lines then travel down my neck in smooth curls, disappearing beneath my armor. Blue lines curve down my legs in arcs and swirls, making it appear as though vines made of water are crawling up my legs. All in all, I look really cool. My armor makes it even better by matching with the blue paint.

But I hate it. It reminds me of what I am about to do, what I have done, and what will happen if I don’t go through with this.

I am escorted down a hallway into the oh-so-familiar arena entrance, but unlike every other time I’ve been down here, I can hear the crowd. And it’s not just a low rumble in the background, no, the walls and ground vibrate, dust showering off the ceiling. I can hear the voice of the handsome stallion from the room, the announcer, roaring through the metal door separating me from the bloody sands of the fighting grounds. Said door rattles as the crowd thunders in response to what he declared.

I steel myself for the coming battle as the door grinds and begins to rise. I step forward, my hoofsteps buried under the sound of the crowd. Their volume rises as they notice the doors opening. The clamor dies away as they and I notice that there is nopony stepping through the other door. Then I realize their heads are swiveling from me to the other side of the sands. It hits me when I see two unicorn mares on either side of the arena: two by my door, two by the other. All four horns are glowing, enveloped in magical auras. They’re casting spells to hide the competitors and hold the audience and fighters in suspense.

“Mares and Gentlecolts, this is the time you have been holding in anticipation for ages. You have been patiently sitting here waiting for the fight of a lifetime, and yet nopony came out of those doors.” The crowd just mutters among itself, trying to figure out what is going on. “Well my friends, I felt tonight needed a little extra show, considering how long you’ve all been waiting.”

The rafters shake from the ensuing roar as the crowd realizes what he means. “Tonight, we have two champions here. Both are highly talented and skilled fighters. One is a unicorn, blessed with intense powers and an expert in magical combat. Our other combatant is a pegasus. She has great skill and speed in flight and a devastating lightning abilities.”

“Please welcome our champions, Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash!” Blue flames envelop me, and I yelp before realizing they are purely for show and aren’t causing any harm. I’m momentarily blinded, but the flames are soon gone, and I see a pony on the other side of the arena.

The last remnants of golden flames are evaporating off of her to reveal a cyan coat and a rainbow mane. Blood red, flame orange, and golden yellow streak through her forelock while emerald green, dark blue, and deep purple flow through the rest of her mane. All six colors join together in her tail. A cloud with lighting coming out of it is emblazoned on her flank, her cutie mark. Magenta eyes glare at me from across the sand. A smirk etches its way across her face.

Similar to me, golden lines are painted on her coat, but while mine are smooth curls, her lines are jagged and sharp. The paint cuts up her legs in rough lines, disappearing under charcoal-gray armor. Blades cover the edges of her wings and reinforcement braces travel down every few feathers. Shoes cover her hooves, ending in sharp points that, if angled out, could slice through flesh. A chest plate connects to a back plate and side plates. The armor and smirk combined give her a merciless and reckless appearance.

“On my mark,” the speaker system roars. “FIGHT!”

Author's Note

This chapter has been edited.