Rainbow Dash flew in formation. And for the first time in ages—perhaps since those humid days spent in Durandana—that formation wasn't her own.
Rainbow and her friends were surrounded. There was no more proper way of describing it. Lexxic flew at the front of the group, accompanied by his “Third,” Masser. Azarias—the surly and scarred “Second”—flew behind Rainbow in the center of the flock. From there, the stallion was able to shriek and hiss commands at the Bloodwing company as a whole—which was evidently his station within the First Son's battalion. The rest of the sarosians formed three layers of V-shaped fans above and below Rainbow's spot in their star-lit flight.
It was more than obvious how Lexxic had intended to structure this formation. Rainbow knew that it was merely a means of protecting and securing herself and her friends along the swift glide towards Omega. Still—with so many glinting fangs and scarred hides completely encompassing her, it simultaneously felt like an intimidating cluster of inscrutable threats from all sides.
There was also no denying how... claustrophobic Rainbow Dash felt. Flying—for her—typically meant a sense of freedom, speed, and exhilaration. Suddenly, that was no longer the case. Flying with the sarosians, Rainbow felt hideously boxed-in. And it wasn't exclusively because of the spaces between them. In fact, the Bloodwings kept a polite and respectful distance—much to the gratitude of Ariel, Seraphimus, and Wildcard.
But Lexxic—and his position ahead of the group—constantly put pressure on Rainbow to temper the speed of her glide. She feared that if she flapped her wings and propelled herself too far forward, she might get within proximity of his chaos metal—leading to a deadly, plummeting fainting spell. No doubt Ariel or Wildcard might catch her in the event that such a thing were to happen, but with the Bloodwings now accompanying them, Rainbow Dash felt an intense need to maintain a good, strong impression.
The whole time—while flying—Rainbow kept her eyes trained on the First Son of Nightmares. In many ways, she couldn't help but... stare at this phantasmagorical specimen. Despite all of the gossips and rumors foretold about him, he still managed to defy all expectations—both in display as well as character. Granted, she had only gotten to witness him for the better part of two hours, but there was no denying that this creature was quite unlike anyone she had met before. The mare's fuzzy brain attempted stirring the mental broth, and the best she could conjure up was a drop of Lady Pestiferous, a dash of Razzar of the Lounge, and a goopy bucket of Keris' shiny charm glossed all over the otherwise black shell. Two-thirds of that mixture spelled imminent worry, but Rainbow could only surmise that they were tiny portions of the stallion at best, and everything else encased within that undeniably mystifying egg was a big heapin' helping of “huh???”
She spent half-an-hour in mid-flight just gawking at Lexxic's headcrest alone. Upon first glance, she'd never have guessed that the unwieldy helm was anything remotely aerodynamic. And yet—now that she witnessed Lexxic gliding along effortlessly with the plate—she almost imagined it as more of an aid than anything. The metal slab was certainly slanted back at just the right angle to slice along through the air currents. If there was anything pushing Lexxic down, Rainbow imagined it was the insufferable weight of the thing.
Nevertheless, he carried on quite naturally—no small feat, considering how weak and infirmed the front half of his body looked. The longer Rainbow observed, the more reasonable an assessment she made of the stallion: his front limbs were considerably scrawnier and ganglier than his rear half. There was no denying the impact that the metal slab had on his body—or, perhaps, whatever had been hidden beneath the slab.
Lexxic had spoken briefly of “sacrifice.” Rainbow suspected that she'd forever linger on the cusp of that statement's meaning. Unless, of course, someone among the Bloodwings was willing to explain just what that “sacrifice” entailed. It didn't subtract at all from the First Son's confidence. He made sure to keep at the very front of the group, as if his crest was slicing the air clean for those in formation behind. All the while, however, he kept the Third—Masser—close by his side. The veteran adventurer in Rainbow Dash could only respect that choice. Perhaps she wasn't the only one who needed to be scooped up by a fellow flying companion if the need presented it.
As time blew by with the twilight winds, Rainbow's observing gaze shifted. She made a study of the other sarosians around her—or, at least, she tried to.
In truth, sarosians had always been something of a cryptic subject matter for her. All those days spent traveling the Seven Seas and beyond with Echo wasn't of much merit—for even Ryckmun himself would gladly admit that he was never an authentic example of his own kin in the first place. Nicole wasn't much of a traditional representative either, having more in common with Bard than Nightmare Moon. Rainbow didn't glean too much from Xarchellus and the “midnighters” of Bleak's Plummet—because she couldn't afford to. Chandler was hot on her fetlocks and she was in a hurry to go beyond the edge and cross over to the Dark Side. While listening to Twilight Sparkle and her lectures on sarosian history was nice and all—it still couldn't accurately prepare her for the uncertainties of the Bloodwing faction there on the Dark Side. Besides that—egghead's gonna egghead, and Rainbow could scarcely compute.
No, if Rainbow Dash was going to have any hope in understanding these mysterious, vicious warriors, she'd have to digest them like she digested everything else in her long travels around the world—through sheer exposure and eye-witnessing. For all she knew, this flight towards the Bloodwing lair might end up being the only time she could afford this. All she could do was make the best of it.
Masser—or “Masser'myn,” as he was referred to whenever the Bloodwings spoke in moonwhinny, which was all the time—was more or less the brutish caricature that Rainbow Dashhad expected when Queen Chrysalis first ever name-dropped the “Bloodwings.” He was... indeed... quite “massive,” which Pinkie Pie jokingly pointed out in annoying repetition for the first ten minutes following their initial encounter. Rainbow's head still stung from when she felt compelled to headbutt him in mid-speech. Truth be told, it was quite a gamble that she took, but it all seemed so damnably clear an option when she realized that it would be rendering the Bloodwings the same degree of respect that she was being given when Masser first strolled up under his stupidly superficial charade.
The thing that bothered Rainbow the most about it was that Lexxic allowed the stageplay to transpire in the first place. Sure, it may or may not have been Masser's own dumb idea, but the fact that Lexxic humored it that much was... off-putting. Granted, Rainbow was judging the Bloodwings mostly by her still-dissolving predisposition concerning them. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't ultimately slammed her skull against Masser's—if she had instead just allowed the thespian nonsense to continue, unhindered, under the hollow pretense of peaceful negotiations. She came to the conclusion that it's the sort of thing someone like Twilight Sparkle would do—or anypony else that well-acquainted with Canterlot politics. In essence, Lexxic—through Masser—may have just tested the degree to which Rainbow operated by the “customs of the Solar Deceiver.” Perhaps, then, the headbutt was key—for she had passed that test, for better or for worse.
As for Masser himself, the stallion was... big. Big and scarred. Once again, Rainbow Dash observed the grid-like geometry of the raised tattoos forming a checkerboard collage across his flesh and fur. It extended even onto his flank and backside. No doubt, such body modification must have taken a lot of years... and a lot of pain. Rainbow imagined that a culture that entrenched in warfare had to have needed some artistic outlet for so much anguish and misery. For what she could tell, Lexxic's company stumbled upon just such a form of expression. As she looked around, she saw that Masser wasn't the only one with unique scarring. A few sarosians had similar grid-patterns etched into their flesh, raising patches of skin above the rest. While nopony had quite the elaborate array that Masser brandished, there were imitators. Rainbow took notice of burn-marks set within the individual “squares” of these tattooed manifestations. The brandings took on tiny, elaborate patterns, and she suspected they meant something beyond the scope of her comprehension. Something affixed to pride, no doubt, as opposed to shame.
The scars on Azarias—or “L'azarias'ym”, heard in moonwhinny—were a different matter altogether. Granted, Rainbow didn't get a very good long look at the stallion in question. He was flying the center of the group from behind her, and every time Rainbow glanced back—Azarias would answer with an angry glare in return, as if insulted by the fact that Lexxic's guest would look anywhere but straight forward. Rainbow Dash knew better than to push her chances. But from what she did see of Azarias, the scars on his body—and there were plenty there, more than even Masser's—were implemented in a very chaotic fashion. Dozens upon dozens of slash marks blanketed the poor stallion's flesh, leaving very little room for anything but a truly threatening veneer. This—above all else—is the sort of savage presence Rainbow expected from the Bloodwings, but what she didn't expect was just how swift and orderly Azarias' command of his fellow warriors was. Lexxic may have been the one in charge, but Azarias was the sarosian who kept all the Bloodwings in line. All it took was a single shriek or a prolonged glare, and the formation came together quicker than a blink. This meant that—beyond both the menace and the mystery that the Bloodwings entailed—there was an impenetrable sense of order. Without that, Rainbow guessed, the army wouldn't have lasted as long as it had against the innumerable changelings and the indomitable Night Shard.
That isn't to say that the Bloodwings were completely and utterly mechanical in their disposition. Quite the contrary, they came across as very loose, casual, and even jovial. So long as they maintained formation and followed the shrieking commands of Azarias—as hoofed over by Lexxic—they chirped and squeaked and hissed amongst themselves, smiling and grinning and chuckling with fangs that reflected starlight eternally.
Judging from their expressions (and Applejack's interpretations), many of their shared jokes were being made at Rainbow's and the Herald's expense. It became no small secret that the sarosians were sizing her up, and ultimately determining her and her companions to be trifling mince-meat at best. Nevertheless, it was quite clear that the First Son's command held them back from capitalizing on any superiority complex. Rainbow observed this the very moment Azarias dove in between herself and Masser post-headbutt. She couldn't help but wonder that—if Lexxic wasn't here—maybe the sarosians would simply gut her and her friends right there... just because they could.
And yet, Rainbow (and Applejack) got the impression that the Bloodwings wouldn't murder her without any express purpose. If nothing else, they'd make a game out of it. A challenge. A sport. She didn't know enough about the Bloodwings to call them “honorable,” but there was something there—glued together by Lexxic's inspiration and Azarias' enforcement—that made the Dark Vigil something far less brutish than Rainbow had initially perceived. She knew better than to try her luck against all of that, so she kept her conversations relegated among companions alone.
“Anything, AJ?” Rainbow asked for the umpteenth time that flight.
Applejack once again shook her head. “Nothin', sugarcube. And believe-you-me, I've been tryin' somethin' fierce.” Her freckled face scrunched, as if she was channeling telepathic apples waves straight at Lexxic's butt. “Reckon he's a brick wall to me. Ain't nothin' piercin' through that creepy exterior of his.” At last, she wheezed, like having ran a twenty kilometer marathon using just her brain. “Almost like the plate is a dag-blame'd shield!”
“Could that be it?” Rainbow asked, keeping her breath low, beneath the winds. Wildcard and Ariel glanced at her curiously before inferring that she was talking to her closest friends. “Maybe you girls would be able to sense him if the helmet thingy was off?”
“I don't think it's that simple, Rainbow,” Twilight Sparkle said, shaking her head. “I'm the only one who can come close to sensing him—and this... aura of chaos energy is absorbing his entire figure in my mind.”
“I don't even sense him at all,” Fluttershy said. “It's... as if he doesn't exist! Whatever's blocking us, I don't think it's the slab alone.”
“They've got a point, darling,” Rarity spoke. “Just—take a good long look at his body!”
Rainbow's eyes narrowed. “What about it?”
“Well, obviously you've observed how... unnaturally emaciated his front half is!”
“That's putting it lightly,” Twilight huffed. “It looks diseased.”
“What's yer point, Rares?” Applejack asked.
“The point is...” Rarity gestured. “I'm no expert on the prolonged effects of chaos on average ponies, but I don't think Lexxic's condition is simply a result of physical contact.”
“Did you not see the giant creepy tombstone nailed to his skull?!” Pinkie Pie wheezed.
Rarity rolled her eyes. “If you'll allow me to finish, darling.” She looked at Rainbow Dash in mid-flight. “I think the helmet is just the cover of something.”
“Just what is it covering?” Rainbow asked.
“Something... erm... dare I say more 'intense,'” Rarity remarked, tonguing the inside of her muzzle. “Something beneath the skin, perhaps.”
Twilight's eyes narrowed. “You mean something inside him?”
“Precisely.”
“Oh gosh...” Fluttershy curled her forelimbs to her ghostly chest. “As if the painful-looking tattoos on these sarosians weren't disturbing enough...” She grimaced. “Lexxic wouldn't let something so toxic inside himself! Would he?”
“It... would make some sense,” Twilight said with a thoughtful nod. “You saw those daggers he was controlling earlier...”
“You mean the thingies that glow with the lunar runes?” Pinkie asked.
“Right. Sarosians aren't naturally capable of controlling magical in the temporal plane. Usually, their finesse manifests in the dream world. But Lexxic was able to wield those projectiles like he was a high-level unicorn.”
“If you ask me,” Rainbow Dash muttered. “That sounds broken as buck.”
“Maybe so. But there's nothing in this world that's so complex that it can absolutely defy explanation.” Twilight looked at Rainbow. “Rainbow, you spoke often of your old friend—the elk pilot of the Noble Jury with the strange speech...”
“Right. His name is Floydien,” Rainbow said with a nod. “And his speech was never 'strange.' It was just... pleb-impaired.”
“Whatever. Didn't you tell me that he was experimented on in such a way that it gave him magic electrokinetic powers?”
“Right. The Ledomaritans did a number on him.” Rainbow sighed into the starry winds. “Same with his squirrel buddy—Simon. May he rest in peace.”
“Oh gosh...” Fluttershy whimpered, tears forming. “I forgot that he d-died!”
“Shhhh! Keep to the conversation at hoof, please, Fluttershy.” Twilight turned towards Rainbow again. “Anyways, they were friends of yours—ordinary and devoid of magic—who suddenly could pull off stunts worthy of unicorns. What's to say it isn't the same for Lexxic here?”
Rainbow ran a hoof through her mane. “We're a long friggin' way from Luxmare, Twi.”
“You know what I mean.” Twilight gestured at the sarosian Commander gliding ahead of them. “Through some device or another, Lexxic has augmented himself.”
“Sounds like a savage industry,” Rarity remarked. “Imagine an entire army of them.”
“Reckon t'ain't somethin' that needs to be worried about,” Applejack said. She looked at the others. “If it were possible for Lexxic's... doohickeyin' to be recreated, dunt'cha think he would have had his partners in Bloodwingin' doin' the same by now?”
“AJ's got a pointtttt!” Pinkie sang, spinning a barrel-roll. “Unless of course they already tried and a bunch of them kicked the bucket!” She stuck her tongue out. “The BLOOD BUCKET.”
Rainbow blinked. “Lexxic spoke earlier of 'sacrifice' when we first met.” She looked at the others. “Maybe he's done something that none of the other warriors of the Dark Vigil could accomplish.”
“Maybe it's why they made him their commander...!” Rarity remarked.
“Maybe...” Fluttershy fidgeted. “...this is the 'edge' that Abaddon and her Winter Children spoke about. The special skill or strategy that Lexxic had to finally push back Tchern's drones and the Night Shard”
“I... I don't know...” Rainbow's eyes narrowed as she stared at Lexxic's flying figure. “Let's not jump to conclusions. After all, we just met this dude—like—twenty farts ago. We have yet to discover just what it is that makes him and the Bloodwings tick... assuming we'll ever be capable of finding out.”
“Perhaps it would be for the best that you focus on meeting Nat'rdo and charming the Dream Council,” Rarity said with a hopeful smile. “Stop allowing Lexxic to distract you.”
“Gotta admit, though...” Rainbow shrugged with a slight smirk. “...he's accomplishing it without having to even try—”
A wave of dizziness. Once the fog settled, Rainbow could make out a pivot of Lexxic's plate, as if the sarosian was suddenly looking back at her in mid-flight.
Her ruby pupils shrank. She gulped dryly. “... … ...this is going to be a long trip.”
All this time, Seraphimus and Ariel—to Rainbow's left—were listening intently on Rainbow's side of the conversation. When it seemed as if she had reached a break in the discourse, Ariel was the first to speak up:
“So, what's the verdict?” Ariel spoke in a hushed turn amidst the winds.
Rainbow's eyes narrowed. “What verdict?”
“Is this cretin to be reasoned with?” Seraphimus' cold voice droned. “Surely your 'spirited companions' have poked and prodded the midnighter leader with their otherworldly senses.”
“It's... not quite clear...” Rainbow's forelimbs rubbed together pensively in mid-flight. “They're not really able to pierce through the friggin' chaos metal he's wearing.”
“Oh.” Ariel blinked. “Well that sucks.”
“Let's just... try to be chill about it, alright?” Rainbow's voice cracked.
Seraphimus glared forward into the leather shadows all around them. “We are being corralled into the headquarters of the bloodiest and most savage faction this world has to offer.” She tilted her helmet back. “Forgive me if I do not share your juvenile affinity for 'chilling.'”
“Lexxic's done nothing to us to earn the 'cretin' monicker yet, Sera.”
“His reputation precedes him.”
“... … ...I know that,” Rainbow said through clenched teeth. “But it would be in our best interest not to start anything until we safely reach the company of Nat'rdo and her bosom brain buddies.”
“We know nothing about their hierarchy,” Seraphimus said. “For all we know, maybe Lexxic wishes to execute us—and—Nat'rdo once he has us all in the same place.”
“What... that... it...?!?” Rainbow Dash fought the urge to laugh and growl all at once. “You see, Sera, this is why you were only ever the Right Talon of Verlaxion. Diplomacy just really isn't your strong suit.” She shook her head with a dumb smirk. “'Right Smolder of Verlaxion' just wouldn't fit you. Would it?”
Seraphimus opened her beak to reply—
“If Lexxic's armor thingy is made of chaos metal,” Ariel spoke up. She looked worriedly at their party leader. “...does that mean all your everything will go kerplunk once you get near him?”
“Have you seen me get near to him yet?”
“No.”
“Well there you have it.” Rainbow squinted ahead at the Bloodwing in question as they all glided along. “I tried once—about an hour ago when we first met up. But the moment I took my first step, my friends disappeared.”
“Like... those times when whatshisname showed up?”
“Who? Discord? He appeared at the same time, too. It... it happened even longer ago.” Rainbow gulped. “When we nearly got zapped to death by the Bloodwings' moon.”
“That wasn't the moon,” Seraphimus grumbled.
“Anyways...” Rainbow sighed. “Lexxic appears to be buffed by the one thing that friggin' floors me.”
Ariel shrugged with a crooked smile. “Guess you won't be headbutting him anytime soon.”
“I don't have any desire to.”
“And what of Lexxic?” Seraphimus murmured, motioning ahead. “What if he desires to start an altercation.”
“Then I'd be screwed.”
“Curious that he hasn't,” Ariel said.
Rainbow looked at her. “Huh?”
Ariel looked back. “Just saying... if that crown-thingy is potentially your coup de grace... Lexxic hasn't capitalized on it.”
Seraphimus spoke as quiet as a whisper. “Maybe it's for the best that we not discuss it here and now...”
Rainbow stared long and hard at Lexxic's figure. “You know what's funny?”
Seraphimus didn't look remotely curious.
Rainbow spoke on anyways: “... … ...I got this impression that he does know.”
Ariel's brow furrowed.
Twilight and the rest of Rainbow's friends exchanged anxious expressions.
Lexxic—ahead—flew calmly and gracefully. The only times he spoke was in quiet hisses and squeaks to Masser by his side. He looked every bit the only one in control of the entire formation, leaving Rainbow Dash helplessly floundering for something—anything—to glean on.
She realized that any and all contemplation about this particular leg of her journey had gone far past alteration. The decision was behind her, and now she was at the mercy of fate. Or—in this case—maybe Lexxic himself mattered more than fate. It made her wonder just what Nat'rdo and her kin could offer, if anything. But—given that the Dream Council's request had even made somepony like Lexxic bend to obey—it potentially meant that there was hope for achieving a place of communication and diplomacy with this army of the Trinary War after all.
Sometime later, Rainbow became aware of murmuring... chuckling voices. They ran with the wind, coming from within the Bloodwing formation.
She looked to her right. Wildcard flew parallel to her and the rest of the Heraldites. But further to the right—beyond him—were two able-bodied specimens of Bloodwing menace. They were currently studying the griffon closely, their slitted eyes washing over his beak, feathers, and—most of all—his metal prosthetic.
Pinkie smiled goofily. “Looks like somebird's got a faaaaanclubbbbbb.”
Rarity shuddered. “Wrong time and place—if you ask me!”
Squeaks and hisses danced between the two warriors as they muttered in moonwhinny. They flew closer and closer in formation to Wildcard's position.
“... … ...” The Desperado maintained his glide. Pure stars reflected off his goggles.
“Sy'lysymylym thysl'aym thrym'wym,” one warrior murmured. “Hany'lym sym'ly frym'sym.”
“Ywm...” The other nodded. “Hy'myl yln Myl'sypher'ym!”
“Hahahaha... ywm. Ywm—sy'myl ynla Myl'sypher'ym my'nal thym!”
“... … …?” Wildcard finally pivoted his head to face them.
The two sarosians jolted from the griffon's black-goggle'd gaze.
A ripple of laughter flew through the formation.
“Hahahahaha!”
“Hah hah hah... hy'ml syl'ym mym, Wyl'hyggs'ym! My'bosonn'yll!”
“M'rylyma sy'thylym H'cylsialym thy'ma syln?! Ha ha ha!”
One of the two sarosians—blushing—cleared his throat. “We have... never seen your kind before,” the stallion said. “It is not typical that we meet a strange creature and don't attempt to kill it.”
“Or eat it,” his flight buddy offered with a fanged grin.
“Yes. Haha! True.”
“The only way to understand something is once it's dead,” the other Bloodwing sneered with a malicious fanged grin. “Unless—of course—it dreams. But that's the job of High Branchers.”
“But for us lowly blood stallions...” the first licked his lips. “It's either death or dinner!”
“Sometimes both!”
“Hahahaha—SOMETIMES! Hee-hee-hee-eee-eee-eee.”
Wildcard winced slightly from their sonic laughter.
“Do forgive the twins for their tactlessness, Penumbran,” Lexxic's voice suddenly rolled along the winds from the front of the formation. His helm was still aimed at Omega as he casually spoke: “Here in this land—blessed by eternal night—all curiosity is morbid.”
The Desperado merely shrugged.
“Not one for talking, hmmm?” One of the two warriors smirked. “You're starting to resemble dinner more and more with each twinkling star!”
“Hah hah hah hah!”
Rainbow Dash cleared her throat. “Try asking him yes-or-no questions.” A smug grin. “It's how I got started on the right hoof with this dude.”
The warriors exchanged glances, then looked as one at Wildcard.
“That arm of yours...”
“...the one made of metal...”
“...is that goblin tech?”
Wildcard shook his feathery head.
Shrieks and hisses.
The warriors flew in closer. “Is it powered by the lifelights?”
“Like the Shard vessels?”
Wildcard shook his head yet again.
“You're making fools of yourselvesssss,” Masser grumbled from ahead of the flight.
“Chip in the Armor—we are!” one cursed back at the Third before turning to face Wildcard once again. “Can you fight with that infernal thing?”
Wildcard nodded.
“It's dexterous enough for combat?”
Wildcard nodded.
“Show us! Show us, Penumbran!”
In answer, Wildcard brandished a middle talon under the starlight.
Ariel and Rainbow simultaneously face-hoofed. Seraphimus rolled her eyes, muttering Jordan's name under her beak.
But the Bloodwings: they roared with laughter, even the two twins who shrieked hysterically with fangs a'glinting.
“So they have spines down in Penumbra after all!”
“For a thick sack of game, he's all talk and no talk!”
“I'd love to see Sypher go up against him!”
“Eee-eee-eee! A duel! A duel between Night and Penumbra!”
“Lexxy'kyn!! You must set such a thing up, Brother!”
“Alright, Hyggs... Bosonn,” Azarias groaned from the center of the group, forcing the laughter to dissipate. “Lay off before I let him insert that metal claw where it deserves to be.”
“Please, Second,” Lexxic's voice rolled once again, and all leafy ears were instantly trained on him. “Let them indulge in conversation. I find it most enlightening.” Rainbow shuddered as he sensed his helm pivoting against the wind up ahead. “This is a momentous occasion—after all—to entertain the company of such unseemly creatures. At first, I too assumed they were both cryptic outcasts of imp society—but then again, the texts do maintain that the Solar Deceiver's land is indeed home to an unimaginable bestiary of accidental life. It stands to reason that some survived over the eons to make their away across any and all conceivable barriers—including the ones that once impeded us.”
“What happened, exactly?” one of the twins chirped, grinning stupidly. “Did a horny panther get tossed into a bag full of buzzards?”
Wildcard's beak clenched hard.
“If you must know, Wildcard here is a griffon,” Rainbow Dash spoke up. “There's an entire kingdom of them who live not too terribly far from Equestria. And they're so friggin' badass that a single one could take on twenty ponies and come out without a scratch!”
The closest Bloodwings in formation all stared at Wildcard with a sudden warrior's hunger. He silently stared back at the collective group.
Rainbow's ears drooped. “Uhm... of c-course, I may have exaggerated slightly...” She gulped. “...out of personal bias.”
“Hah!” Lexxic's voice echoed from ahead. “So they are 'griffons!' Praise the Narrow! You saved me the embarrassment of calling them 'hippogriffs!'”
Laughter rolled through the formation.
“You see, Second...” Lexxic tilted his helm back towards Azarias. “...there is opportunity to be had in letting idiots speak ahead of you.”
Azarias' scarred face formed something resembling a pout. Hyggs and Bosonn merely laughed it off.
Clearing her throat, Seraphimus threw her voice towards the twins. “Truth be told, griffons hail from all across the world beyond the Edge.” Her charcoal brown eyes narrowed. “Including the continent of Rohbredden, where we are given supreme power of law enforcement.”
Dead silence.
The two twins looked at Seraphimus with nauseated expressions—laced with utter repugnance.
The Former Talon Commander's headcrest pulled back. “Is there something amiss?”
The Bloodwings drifted slightly aside, giving the griffon space—as if she was contagious with something.
Ariel squinted curiously at the sarosians' movement. “She knows what she's saying,” the Heraldite says. “She and Wildcard go way back—longer than the rest of us... have... … … known him...” Her words trailed off under a breath of confusion, for the Bloodwings had grown even more uncomfortable than seconds ago. In fact, they looked everywhere but at Ariel and Seraphimus.
Dumbfounded, Ariel looked at Rainbow. Rainbow could only shrug.
Lexxic spoke up. “Tell me, Wildcard, if you would be pleased to let me call you that—do griffons outnumber ponies in Penumbra?”
Wildcard cocked his head aside. He looked curiously at Lexxic, who wasn't looking back. The Desperado then looked to Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow paused... … … before nodding—encouraging him to reply.
Limply, Wildcard fumbled in mid-air for a bit... then shook his head.
Lexxic replied instantly, still gazing forward. “Does griffon civilization—assuming there even is one—contain as many nations as ponies?”
Wildcard again shook his head.
“And am I to assume—perhaps—that there are more ponies in offices of executive powers than griffons in the nations that they both share?”
Wildcard fidgeted a bit... before eventually nodding.
“Ah...” Lexxic himself nodded. “...then not much has changed in modern times than when the ancient texts were first written.” He looked aside at Masser. “A curious thing that griffons haven't capitalized on their innate superiority in the years since the Exodus—especially considering the 'badass' fact that a single one of them can more than endure an assault by twenty members of equinity's best.”
“Hey, it's not what you think,” Rainbow Dash's voice cracked. “Griffons and ponies live together in harmony on the Light Side.”
“Oh, it's not a matter of what I think,” Lexxic said. “But a question of what griffons think—and why it has encouraged them after so many years to become veritable servants to their weaker, softer, friendlier familiars. Makes one wonder how the Mother of Nightmare's children would have fared—had our forebearers stayed in the shadow of her tragic banishment.”
Wildcard raised an eyecrest.
“Maybe not all things on the other side are as competitive as they are over here,” Rainbow grumbled.
“Do you have wars in Penumbra?”
“Well...” Rainbow fidgeted. “Yes...”
“No you don't,” Lexxic said. “You have family squabbles. With the same classes that have always been in power sending the same riff-raff who have always been bereft of it clashing against one another again and again. A string of conflicts without anything changing. So it was before the Book of Saros was written, and so it shall forever be.” His dizzying helm tilted. “Or am I to assume that the bulk of your conflicts have not been waged by ponies since the Deceiver's Aggression?”
Rainbow bit her lip. She and Ariel exchanged awkward expressions.
“Hmmmm... perhaps this wasn't as educational as I thought,” Lexxic said. “I doubt that my brothers and I are the only ones who have been fighting the same war for generations, Rainbow Dash. No matter which way you look at it, it's still the same tragedy... only being fought at a different tempo.”
“What if I told you there was a reason for that?” Rainbow Dash said in a hopeful turn. “A reason for repetitive cycles of death on a dying plane?”
“I think I would be intrigued to know more.” Lexxic nodded. “If it weren't for the fact that you came from Penumbra.” A pale crescent of fangs, and he tilted his head towards the rest of the formation. “So much blame is put on the Solar Deceiver—and rightfully so. But she's simply an extension of a plague as old as time. Only in a land full of light can you truly be blinded.”
The sarosians murmured and hissed with nodding heads.
Rainbow's jaw muscles tightened. “If all I've got to share is plagued nonsense, then why do you think Nat'rdo and her Council are so heck-bent on hearing what I've got to share?”
“You may wish to temper your use of that card before you wear it out, Penumbran.”
Rainbow blinked.
“I cannot pretend to know what the Dream Council desires in you,” Lexxic said. “Nor will I pretend to care.” His threadbare tail flicked. “The merit of their judgment proceeds them on a road of corpses. The only wise thing they've done in a thousand years is give the strategizing of this war to competent hooves. But—for the measure of this untimely escort—those very same hooves are being held back. It is expedience—and not faith—that propels me.” A nod of the helm. “Otherwise, you would not even be here.”
Rainbow's voice droned from behind a sarcastic expression. “Should I be thanking you.”
“Right now, all I want is your forgiveness,” Lexxic said.
With a double-take, Rainbow rasped: “What?”
“I promised you a swift flight to the Tree of Mothers, but I'm afraid we must make a stop—here and now.” Lexxic waved his hoof towards curveside. “A reconnaissance team comes to intercept us. It is of supreme importance to the war effort that we pause to confer with them. I'm sure you will understand.”
“Oh... uhhhh... yeah.” Rainbow nodded. “Sure.” She turned to look at Fluttershy, whispering: “Do... you sense anyone?”
“Yes, Rainbow.” Fluttershy nodded back. “Two ponies—winged adults. They're heading straight for us.”
“How long ago did you notice them?” Twilight asked.
Fluttershy fidgeted. “Honestly?” She gulped. “I hadn't noticed until he said something.”
“That's... not a good thing, is it?” Pinkie squeaked.
“That feller's plate is fudgin' up our senses somethin' awful,” Applejack said. “We're gonna have to work harder to concentrate whenever he's around.”
“Agreed,” Rarity said.
Meanwhile...
...Lexxic was already communicating with Masser. Rainbow, Seraphimus, Ariel, and Wildcard listened in as the two descended into rapid, breathy moonwhinny.
“M'elyrym s'yla sym'al, Lexxy'kyn?”
“Ywm. H'lysaa my'nal s'wynsym thy'nyl. M'saalt'ym sym Wy'croww. My'lyss thyn wrym m'ylan th'lym hy'sal.”
“M'ylaan'syl?! Th'lym hy'saal'ym th'ynl wrym t'chyr—!”
“H'jnor, Masser'myn!” Lexxic hissed emphatically, silencing the Third.
Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow.
Lexxic's helm tilted back ever so slightly. A heavy breath, and he spoke as calmly as before. “Fn'ymbrym'll fn'yllym sy'wyssyl myn'wyn'v. Y'sylym thyn?”
Masser nodded. “Ywm, Lexxic'kyn.” The large stallion threw an oafish look over his shoulder towards Rainbow and the Heraldites. He turned back to Lexxic. “Wyssss... h'lsyvym M'saalt'ym sym Wy'croww thy'mynal?”
“H'vassym hy'wym thy'nal.”
“Ywm, Lexxic'kyn.”
“Sy'wym.” Lexxic spoke back at the center of the group. “L'azarias'ym! Vy'lassym hy'wym thy'nal sy'wym!”
“Ywm, Lexxic'kyn!” Azarias nodded, then raised his voice boomingly to the group. “Y'rym'thy'nal l'syll!”
The entire formation shrieked in cadence, fangs a-glinting. Their leather wings bent at an angle, and the airborne battalion descended sharply.
Rainbow Dash and her companions awkwardly glided to match the sarosians on all sides.
Fluttershy pointed out two dark specks against the starlight, coming in fast from curveside. Rainbow observed them—seeing how they slowed their approach, arriving at a plateau below Lexxic's company.
All the while, Azarias and the rest of the Bloodwings sounded of against one another.
“Hy'wym!”
“Y'RYM THYN!”
“Hy'wym!”
“Y'RYM THYN!”
At last, the group—led by Azarias—came within hoof-touch of the rocky plateau below.
“Y'rym thyll'm syl braas!”
“HYUTTT!!!”
The group of warriors all landed in one accord, pronouncing thunder in all directions of the Dark Side.
“Sweet Celestia...” A frazzled Rarity fanned her ghostly self as she descended along with her anchor. “Are we going to have to hear that every time?”
“Shhhhh...” Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes on the edge of the plateau, facing Omega. “...I want to pay attention to what's going on here.”
“How did Lexxic know there was a patrol incoming?” Ariel whispered.
Wildcard gestured: “A schedule?”
Seraphimus' eyes narrowed. “But to be intercepted this delicately?”
Rainbow waved for them to be silent. She craned her neck.
Up ahead, Azarias could be seen trotting up to form a line beside Lexxic and Masser. There was a break in the starlight, and two sarosians—sweaty and breathless—came to a gliding stop. They stopped before the First Son of Nightmares... saluting with unshorn fetlocks.
“Brother...!” one stallion stammered, fangs showing in his gaping muzzle. “We... we did not expect you out this far from the Tree—”
“A matter of supreme importance,” Lexxic said calmly, nodding at the gesture. “Supreme importance to the Council.”
“I... I don't understand, Brother,” the other sarosian wheezed, still catching his breath.
“Neither do I.” Lexxic cocked his helm to the side. “It's been many battles since we've crossed paths, brothers. I'm sorry to say that I have lost your scents.”
“Report in, bloodlings,” Azarias hissed in a fiercer turn. “Or have you lost procedure before the First Son?!”
“Oh... oh—but of course!” The two stallions stood at attention. One sarosian spoke: “M'saalt'ym. Sixth Root.”
“Wy'croww.” The other saluted. “Also Sixth Root.”
“Saalt. Croww.” Lexxic nodded towards them. “Good names. Hearty name. Your blood courses strong, brothers”
“Th-thank you, Brother.”
“What is your business in these stretches, bloodlings?” Masser asked.
“Sixth Root Reconnaissance,” Saalt explained. “We... w-were in a company of five. Sent out to explore the burnt hollows.”
“In these parts?” Masser asked. “They were purged at least twenty flights ago.”
“Affirmative, brother,” Croww spoke, calming down. “But such were our orders.” He cleared his throat. “Sy'tommsyl himself charged us with—”
“The First Son knows who commands the companies of the Sixth Root, bloodling,” Azarias snarled. “Now tell us what happened to the rest of your unit.”
Croww fidgeted, leafy ears folding. “N'shydym...” he breathed.
The entire company hissed and growled amongst themslves. Velvety coats bristled in anger. Rainbow looked around in silent observation.
“A bright ruby vessel—monolithic in class...” Croww shuddered. “It came straight from the bleaks. We didn't even catch the glint of its glass before they were upon us.”
“The first volley took out three of our brothers,” Saalt added. His fangs showed in mixed sorrow and anger. “Our captain—Wry'mikym—split us up so we could evade the second attack. I found a hiding spot on a hill facing the brinks. From there... I-I saw Wry'mikym's lifelights. They absorbed him.” He gulped. “Later... Croww found me. After the vessel left for the bleaks, the two of us followed protocol—making straight for the Tree.”
The group shrieked and howled with vengeful emotion.
Azarias snapped at them. “Ly'symanna thry'ssym!”
Everypony went silent.
Rainbow watched as Lexxic tilted his head towards Masser. “You have suffered a terrible tragedy, brothers. We all have.” Two out of five of the daggers housed in his helm flickered in a repeating pattern.
Masser's eyes reflected the lights. He immediately turned to face the two stallions. “The Night Shards are cowards. There is no way five scouts can combat a monolith.” He strode forward and rested a reassuring hoof on Saalt's withers. “You managed admirably against a dire threat.”
Saalt took a shuddering breath, nodding at the Third. “I-I only wish I could have come back with the rest of our brothers' bodies. They don't deserve to rot out there.”
“No.” Masser shook his head. “They don't.”
Lexxic suddenly let loose an ear-pitched shriek.
The two soldiers jolted, startled and caught off guard—
—meanwhile Masser yanked Saalt around so that he was restraining the struggling sarosian to his muscular frame.
“Eee-eee-eee!!!” Saalt shrieked, slitted eyes quivering. “Brothers! Why—?!”
Sw-Sw-Swissssh! The five daggers flew forward from Lexxic's helm, streaking with runic light.
Saalt gasped—“H'Luun—!”
Nopony in Lexxic's company moved. Azarias held his hoof up, watching—as did the dumbstruck Herald—as the five projectiles surged straight for Saalt's held body...
...before taking a sharp right turn and sailing towards Croww instead. Croww—whose attention was resting on Saalt and Masser the entire time—was suddenly baptized in a mist of his own blood. By the time he afforded a blink, the stallion was nothing but a torso... collapsed on the ground between four amputated limbs.
Rarity, Twilight, and Fluttershy shrieked.
Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth.
“Holy sh-shit—!” Ariel shouted. Without thinking, she spread her wings to fly towards Lexxic—
—when both Seraphimus and Wildcard yanked her in place.
“Wait...!” Seraphimus insisted.
Within seconds of the violent butchery... the four equine legs of Croww burned over with green flame, turning into what resembled giant grasshopper legs. What remained of the stallion—a quivering torso at best—rolled over to reveal a glossy black carapace. Slitted pupils vanished under the malaise of compound eyes. A stag beetle's horn protruded from the once-sarosian's skull. Sputtering emerald blood, the changeling thrashed about... before letting loose a prolonged hiss as dangerous smoke poured out from his wounds—
THKKK!
The changeling gasped. The smoke trails vanished as soon as they were formed, and his entire torso went slack. He collapsed on the ground, his twitching eyes gazing off for miles on end. It wasn't until a few moments later that Rainbow noticed the fifth projectile—still being magically wielded by Lexxic—spinning sharply into a fixed point in the back of the metamorph's neck.
“H'ysaam! H'ysaam!” Saalt shrieked and thrashed in Masser's grip. He choked, coughed, and spat up bile before heaving with utter terror. “Wy'croww! Wy'croww!! S'lymm r'ym thym syl H'Luun!”
“Do not make a scene, brother,” Azarias sneered, approaching the prone torso still being drilled by Lexxic's weapon. “You did not know it—but you are the only survivor of Wry'mikym's patrol. Best that you not dishonor their legacy with the frail yelps of a blood colt.”
“Hysssssskkkttt...” Saalt fought tears. With enraged eyes locked on the changeling, he hissed. “Ssss'vaylym thry'kylm ryk'ryk thynl T'chyrym!!!”
“Yes, brother.” Lexxic replied, marching icily towards the paralyzed entity before them. “He does indeed deserve the full arsenal of your curse. Of all our curses. But even that would not be enough.”
Rainbow watched as the other four daggers swept in—diving low like bats. With their sharp ends, they penetrated the torso of the poor creature, levitating it up before Lexxic's helm like a butterfly pinned to an invisible wall. Putrid green juices fell to the stone plateau between it and the leader of the Bloodwings.
“Just what would be enough... hmmmm?” Lexxic tilted his head back. The twitching creature hovered close enough that it's frightened eyes reflected his crescent teeth. “What... would be enough, little liar? Burning every cowardly nest after they've been holed out? Slaughtering a den of her eggs for every dozen... hundred... thousand upon thousands of my brothers that you've thoughtlessly slaughtered with her insufferable Flux?”
Lexxic's voice held menace—calm and calculated—and bequeathed with the most meditative of smiles.
“How... wonderfully comforting it must be... to be thoughtless. To be born unto confusion and rendered chaos until the night consumes eternal. You came here under one pretense. One order. The instruction and your life are one in the same: to kill, to consume, to deceive. She must have sent you to destroy me. Hmmm? Do you know that? Of course not. It was not expected of you—nor was victory. It wouldn't matter.”
He leaned in until his head hung coldly besides the twitching changeling.
“Only now, it does. Everything matters. Without her... without this...” His fifth dagger pulsed, digging a little deeper into the spot on the back of the changeling's neck. It afforded one last gasp—sputtering—its eyes pulsating in boundless terror. “Without the neural gland that powers you—all of you—you're not quite so... thoughtless anymore... are you?”
Wildcard and Ariel watched, breathless. Seraphimus' eyes narrowed coldly in contemplation. Rainbow fought trailing waves of dizziness to keep observing what transpired ahead of them.
“Hyssssssshhhh...” Lexxic's fangs showed in a soft grin. “...yes... misery. Misery and fear. And I know that you're trying... I know—with every ounce of your paltry being—you're trying to contact her. Please... do keep trying. But all you'll find—with those same tortured senses that I refuse to rob from you—is nightmares. And only before you realize the futility in serving such a deceptive mother... will I rob you of the one thing that makes us different... the one thing that you'll never have. The knowledge of how to succeed without.”
Chrkkkk! His dagger punctured a deep layer of chitin. The changeling vomited blood, then went completely and totally inert. Even still, the dim light of being—refracted through absolute terror—remained affixed in his compound eyes.
“Ah...!” Lexxic retracted all five daggers to his helm, dropping the changeling like a wet sack of meat to the stone earth. He turned to smile at the rest of the Bloodwings. “Now there's a thought!”
The sarosians laughed and chirped merrily.
Rainbow looked out the corner of her eyes, spotting her ghostly companions with frozen looks of shock and nausea plastered across their spectral faces.
“Azarias...” Lexxic motioned to the scarred Second. “I think you know what to do.”
“Yes, Brother.” He was already unraveling a large leather satchel. Rainbow watched as the stallion scooped the paralyzed torso of the changeling and dropped it—bleeding and drooling—into the bag before tying it shut and heaving it over his shoulder.
“A curse is still a blessing!” Lexxic said, gesturing to Masser. As he spoke, Masser let go of Saalt's trembling figure and marched over to the severed insectoid limbs. “Depends on where you fly—the bleaks or the brinks. Nevertheless, we mourn our fallen brothers as we praise future victories in their name! A fortune that we would have intercepted Tchern's cowardly pissling after sacrificing all our supplies to get here!” He paused in speech.
Masser held the severed limbs, looking to Lexxic.
“Brothers...” Lexxic gestured to Masser, smiling proudly. “...feed.”
Masser threw the legs into the heart of the group. A shrill shriek sounded, and the velvety bodies dove in, ripping and tearing the sinew from the severed portions of the changeling. The air filled with the smell of pulp and foul breaths as the Bloodwings hissed and chirped gleefully between bites of their fresh meal.
Fluttershy and Rarity looked away. Pinkie Pie looked ready to gag—although her spiritual figure had nothing to upchuck.
Ariel—looking green in the gills—tapped Rainbow's side and tried whispering something to her.
However, Rainbow gently quieted her, craning her neck to observe Lexxic.
The First Son of Nightmares was trotting over to Saalt—who had collapsed into a quivering heap on the ground.
“By the Narrow...” Saalt stammered, shaking all over. As Lexxic approached him, he clambered at the stallion's pale forelimbs, looking up with tearful eyes. “B-by the Narrow, Brother, I-I didn't know...!”
“Shhh-shhhhh...” Lexxic grasped the stallion's shoulders. “Don't dwell on it, brother. Not all who fly by hymn enjoy the gift of the sacrificial sight.”
“He... it used me...” Saalt clenched his fanged teeth. “It threw on Croww's skin and used me to get here! To get to you! I... I'm a failure, Brother.” He gulped, then burst out in a sob. “I-I'm a f-failure and I almost got me killed—”
“I would not have let your failure end me, M'saalt'ym, son of nightmares.” Lexxic raised the stallion to his hooves and tilted his muzzle towards his ears. “No mistake—large or small—can. As for your failure: you still serve greater purpose in living. And fighting.” He slapped the stallion's side. “Let your tears run their course. When we return to the Tree, I shall let you carry the creature personally to the Pit. Tell the keepers that the First Son gave you permission to oversee extraction.” Lexxic cocked his head aside. “Would you like that?”
Saalt fought sobs, sniffling. “Yes.” A tear-stained scowl. “Yes, Brother, I would.”
Lexxic's crescent smile shone. “Yes, I thought as much.” He turned around. “Second!” He motioned towards Azarias. “Once the feast has finished—prepare us for the final flight to the Roots!” He scuffled to a stop, then tilted his dizzying helm towards Rainbow. Smiling. “Unless our present company would entertain scraps?”
Laughter emanated from the munching, bloodied group.
Rainbow slowly shook her head.
Chuckling, Lexxic trotted over to chat closely with Masser.
Wildcard and Seraphimus exchanged silent glances. The Desperado gestured: “So he sees changelings.”
Seraphimus nodded. She looked at Rainbow. “Is the spider queen's song making sense, now?”
“Please...” Ariel belched, holding a hoof over her chest as she fought vomit. “...I-I'd rather have the spiders back at this point.”
“Hold that thought, girl... and your lunch.” Rainbow waved at Ariel before turning to her friends. “Fluttershy...”
Applejack and Twilight had to shake Fluttershy out of a spell of nausea. She looked sickly at Rainbow.
The petite pegasus' lips pursed. “Did you... sense the changeling?” She shrugged. “Before Lexxic did? Up until the very end, at least?”
Fluttershy whimpered. “I didn't sense he was a changeling at all, Rainbow. I... I'm sorry...” She slowly shook her head. “I haven't got the same vision that Lexxic has.”
Rainbow gazed off in contemplation.
“How much more barbarism are we going to have to witness from these ruffians?” Rarity squeaked.
“I dunno...” Pinkie Pie bore an uncharacteristic frown, looking at the bloodied satchel hanging over Azarias' back. “At least they put the poor guy out of his misery.”
“Actually...” Fluttershy began.
Applejack shook her head. “They didn't.”
Rainbow blinked.
“You mean...” Twilight gestured in disbelief. “The changeling's still alive?”
Fluttershy nodded sadly.
“'Fraid so,” Applejack added. “And... not sure I've sensed somethin' sufferin' as bad as that thang is right now.”
“What in the goopy-gazonkers are they planning on doing with it?!” Pinkie Pie bellowed.
Rainbow took a deep breath. “I'm not sure I want to find out.” She clenched her jaw. “But I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to—one way or another.” She moved towards Ariel and the others. “Eyes forward, guys. Get ready to fly again.”