//------------------------------// // The Tree of Mothers // Story: Ofolrodi // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// The air felt warmer as the party approached Omega. Rainbow couldn't tell if it was the well-fed spirits of the blood-stained sarosians in tight formation all around her, or the vacillating temper of her own inner being after having witnessed the slaying of a changeling while doing nothing. She did nothing. Rainbow Dash didn't even lift a wing to intervene as she watched Lexxic tear the drone limb from limb. Sure—she didn't realize that the one Bloodwing scout was an imposter until the very last millisecond, but that hardly felt like an adequate excuse. Not in her mind, at least. She was there on the Dark Side for the same reason she had arrived at every other landscape in the Light Side behind her: to spread peace and harmony. And—hopefully, if she played her cards right—to do something positive for the fate of Urohringr in the long run. As the flight carried on for upwards of an hour, Rainbow tried to rationalize that the butchering of Tchern's drone—while awful—was for the best. Well, perhaps not the “best”—but according to everything Rainbow Dash knew about the Flux, the creature was only bound to do all it could to slaughter Lexxic and his kin the moment it had been exposed. It was probably a fortunate thing that Lexxic discovered it when he did. As for what he did to the creature upon his discovery—well—Rainbow easily wished it had gone differently. Although, what other course of action could have been taken? Would they have been able to reason with the changeling? Was there any possibility in reaching out to the metamorph—and its brothers and sisters via the hive mind that Tchern undoubtedly employed? Or... perhaps... this “Flux” was something that impeded any and all hope of reaching out to the drones on an individual level. Rainbow heard it in Lexxic's speech: the creature was nothing more than a motion of Tchern's will—or perhaps the Flux. But... was that the truth or simply the reality that Lexxic's cruelty made manifest? Who was to say that changelings would have behaved any differently had he not rendered each and every one of them the same miserable violence—which most assuredly he had... long before Rainbow even arrived there....? Rainbow couldn't help but feel like she was a tiny speck looking in on the immeasurable canvas of an incomprehensibly large landscape. Chrysalis—in the end—had been approachable, and Rainbow certainly thanked the lucky stars for that. But—then again—Rainbow had chanced upon Chrysalis multiple times... and on each occasion she chiseled into the Queen's otherwise unwavering grip, inch by inch, until it all crumbled at the climactic meeting in Val Roa. Tchern had untold eons of unfettered control and dominance over her hive—hardened through generations upon slaughtered generations of loyal changelings holding up their end of the Trinary War. She hadn't suffered the same tribulations Chrysalis had: crossing back over to the Lightside, encountering Verlax, navigating the Grand Choke, and finally hijacking the Xonan infrastructure. Tchern—for all intents and purposes—was incalculably stronger than her sister. On top of that, she had this so-called “Flux” going for her... and according to Abaddon and the Winter Children, it was making the changelings stronger and more unpredictable than ever. Rainbow needn't think further back than the lone drone in Darkreach who had single-hoofedly crippled the Herald from the Inside Out. The metamorph who impersonated the ill-fated “Croww” was no doubt just as dangerous and formidable... and Lexxic had taken it out in just one glance. If nothing else, this should have reinforced Rainbow's faith in the risk she was taking. If all changelings were as dangerous and undetectable as the only two examples she had encountered thus far, then there was no telling what an impossible brick wall the rest of Tchern's brood would be to engage... much less approach. The Night Shard—of course—were a virtual unknown. But the Bloodwings...? The Bloodwings were quite likely Rainbow's absolute best option. They were formidable. They had shared history with her Equestrian past, albeit distant. On top of all that—through Lexxic—they evidently had the tools to keep her safe from Tchern's lot. Perhaps from the Night Shard as well. All of this made it incredibly taxing that Rainbow Dash... simply did not feel at ease with them. It was more than Lexxic's chaos metal or the innate cruelty of the bunch. It was the fact that—on top of all of their grim potential—these ponies likewise had the potential to be joyful, friendly, honorable... and sad. If she let herself be surrounded by these Bloodwings long enough, part of her—especially the daredevilish Cloudsdalian from weather flying days immemorial—could easily... easily come to like them. Rainbow Dash looked up towards where Lexxic flew at the front of the group. It was no longer just him and the Third. Saalt—the only survivor of the recon expedition—flew between Masser and the First Son. Rainbow couldn't hear their words from afar (they were likely speaking in moonwhinny, anyways), but it was clear that the three were in deep concentration. Rainbow spotted Saalt hanging his head, fighting tears as he glided against the cool high winds. Lexxic's lips moved calmly beneath his helm. As Saalt shuddered in contemplative throes, Masser reached a hoof over in mid-flight and patted Saalt's withers. Rainbow watched as the melancholic sarosian gradually calmed over time. With a muddled breath, Rainbow cast a glance behind her. Azarias flew in an easy glide, his slitted eyes bouncing left and right—keeping tabs on the formation in its entirety. Rainbow could tell that the stallion was gifted in guarding any and all Bloodwings under his and Lexxic's command. But she was less concerned with observing the Second at that time. Instead, Rainbow's eyes fell on the sack in her possession. It was an old satchel—worn with age, perhaps generations old. Warm green fluid seeped out every other minute. Nevertheless, the bag remained limp and lifeless—despite its contents. Clenching her jaw in thought, Rainbow looked at her companions. She discovered that Fluttershy, Applejack, and Twilight were also staring at the bag that housed what remained of the drone. After a few moments, the ghostly mares realized Rainbow was staring at them. After returning her gaze, they somberly nodded. Rainbow cleared her throat. “Is... it still alive?” she asked hoarsely. Seraphimus and Wildcard looked over, listening in on the conversation—or at least Rainbow's half of it. “It most certainly is, sugarcube,” Applejack muttered. “I can't really penetrate its thoughts none... but reckon the poor thang ain't exactly thrilled to still be breathing.” “I'm trying to get a read on its magic,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Based on what I remember sensing back in Darkreach. But... I-I've got nothing to report.” “I doubt there's any magic left in the poor creature, darling!” Rarity exclaimed. “Remember what Lexxic did to it?” “What was this... 'neurotic glop' he was talking about anyways?” Pinkie asked. “'Neural gland' is what Lexxic said,” Twilight corrected. “Odds are—after centuries upon centuries of fighting, the Bloodwings have finally been able to dissect the changelings and find out what makes them tick.” “Or more specifically, what makes them mimic the tickin' of others,” Applejack suggested. “Right.” Twilight nodded. “So... they uncovered this organ... found a way to cripple it...” “And SPLAT!” Pinkie gestured. “No more fart-flaming into other creatures!” “Pinkie...” Fluttershy sniffled, eyes moist as she frowned at the mare. “Do you mind?” Pinkie winced. “Sorry, Flutters! But the dirty deed's been done by the death dude!” “I don't think it's right to make light of all of this... even if it helps us to blow off some steam.” Fluttershy sadly glanced back at the satchel being carried on Azarias' flying figure. “Maybe its motor functions have been paralyzed... but it still probably sees, hears, smells, tastes most of what's happening right now and around it.” “This is just so dreadful...!” Rarity blanched. “I-I know I don't have much... empathy for Tchern's swarm and what the creature was potentially trying to do to us, but... but this is j-just cruel!” “It sure fits into what the Spider Queen was explainin' about Lexxic,” Applejack said. “Didn't she and Merula say that he was slaughterin' her own children too? All across the Dark Side?” “Bat ponies really don't like bug ponies!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Or... y'know... just bugs.” “Actually, the Winter Children are arachnids—” Twilight started. “And just what was this 'pit' that Lexxic was talking to Saalt about?” Pinkie blinked. “I know I heard that part right, at least!” Rainbow Dash slowly shook her head. “Can't be a nice place. But I'm guessing it's where they're taking the changeling. Er...” She fidgeted in mid-flight. “...what's left of 'em.” “You mean its suffering isn't going to end the moment we get to the sarosians' lair?!” Rarity exclaimed. “Good Goddess alive, Rainbow! Are you sure we should be making friends with these ruffians?” “Would ya rather make kissy-kissy with the changelings instead?” Applejack remarked. Rarity shuddered. “I... truly do not know at this point.” “The fact of the matter is—Rainbow has made her decision,” Twilight said in a breath of finality. “She chose to reach back to the Bloodwings who first reached out to her. Lexxic may be at the forefront of our mind right now, but let's not forget about Nat'rdo. Let's not forget about the Dream Council.” “Yeah!” Pinkie nodded. “We gotta tell them what happened out here! They gotta be shocked when they hear about it!” “I... think that the head haunchos runnin' the sarosian shindig here know darn well 'bout how Lexxic deals with changelings,” Applejack muttered. “Why the heck else do ya think they hired him?” Pinkie rubbed her scrunched muzzle in thought. Rainbow noticed Fluttershy staring persistently at Azarias' satchel. “Fluttershy... girl... there's nothing that can be done for the poor dude at this point.” “It's not that, Rainbow.” Fluttershy gulped. “I mean..” She sniffled. “Yes... I'm still sad about it. But... I-I'm simply trying my best to... to get an impression.” “An 'impression', darling?” Rarity asked. Fluttershy nodded. “A texture. A flavor. Anything that will stay permanently in my senses.” She looked at the others with a glimmer of hope. “That way... perhaps I can sense the changelings before Lexxic does.” “And... if that somehow works?” Pinkie asked, blinking innocently. “What then?” Twilight and Applejack looked at Rainbow. “I... uh...” Rainbow squirmed in mid flight. “...I-I don't know how wise it is to beat Lexxic to the punch.” She clenched her jaw. “Even if I could.” “Beating Lexxic at what?” Seraphimus spoke up. Wildcard gave her a glance. Rainbow looked over. “Just... ruminating.” Seraphimus arched an eyebrow. “Care to let us in?” Rainbow's eyes narrowed. “Since when have you been so keen on sharing my thought processes?” “We are in a very delicate, very tense situation,” Seraphimus replied, speaking quietly so as not to be overheard by the surrounding sarosians. “Yeah.” Rainbow nodded. “I noticed.” She cocked her head to the side. “I've also noticed that you've been very serious and observant about everything lately.” “Aren't I always?” “Not when it comes to me and my own missions. Don't mind me, Sera. I'm not complaining. Just curious...” Seraphimus' beak clenched. “You've struggled and obsessed so long to get me to contemplate things on your level, Rainbow Dash—and now you question the fact that I'm following through?” “Stranger deceptions have been known to happen,” Ariel spoke in, yawning. Seraphimus glared at her. “Go back to sleep, harpy.” “I only sleep when Rainbow does.” “How convenient.” “Is this some sort of... test for you, Seraphimus?” Rainbow asked. Wildcard raised a curious eyecrest. “How do you mean?” Seraphimus asked. Rainbow folded her forelimbs in mid-glide. “Just what were you up to mere moments before you told me you wanted to join with this party?” “... … ...” Seraphimus merely stared at her. “Who'd you go to talk to for advice?” Rainbow bore the tiniest of smirks. “Don't tell me you didn't. Crap like that doesn't get past me. Even when I'm an idiot...” She gestured blindly at the ghostly mares. “...I've got my boo!haunted!house friends to fill me in.” “That's right, Seraaaaaaaa!” Pinkie Pie waved, grinning wide. “We got your number, girl!” “She can't flippin' hear ya, sugarcube,” Applejack grumbled. “Maybe not with that attitude!” Pinkie cheered. Seraphimus took a deep breath, finally replying to Rainbow: “If you must know, I was having a discussion with the locals.” “The dihmers?” Ariel's muzzle scrunched. “Well, at least you were in like-company.” “The imps,” Seraphimus hissed, ultimately calming. “Given the right circumstances, they can be quite informative.” “I didn't know you had the metal to spare,” Rainbow said. “I beg your pardon?” Rainbow's eyes narrowed at Seraphimus. “Those bipedal nosejobs are greedy as buck. Surely, they would have charged you out the bird-ears for info.” “That... was not the case...” “Hrmmmfff...” Ariel smirked wryly. “Then you've been duped.” “I do not believe that to be the case.” “How do you kn—?” “Believe it or not,” Seraphimus' voice raised. “Being the Right Talon of Verlaxion trained me to be a good judge of character!” A hissing sound. The three travelers looked to see Wildcard gesturing at his former Commander to lower her voice. A few pairs of slitted eyes looked their way, but soon the Bloodwings resumed paying attention to their flight. Seraphimus cleared her throat delicately. “All characters—save for one.” She looked towards Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash nodded. “So what did these imps tell you?” “Lexxic is more than he seems.” “Pfftchyaaa...” Rainbow arched an eyebrow. “Did they tell you that he can fly, too?” “You're missing the point.” Seraphimus gestured ahead towards the front of the group. “Yes—he is constrained by the will of this so-called Dream Council. Perhaps by more. This much is obvious. But—it also does not change the fact that in all things dealing with the Trinary War—and the Dark Side abroad—it is Lexxic who is feared by many. It is his name that is spoken in fear, anger, and earnest.” “He really runs the show beyond their lair,” Wildcard gestured. “Precisely, Jordan.” Seraphimus nodded. “With his surmounting legacy becoming bloody enough and poignant enough to outweigh the infamy of both the Flux and the Night Shards combined...” Her charcoal eyes narrowed. “...one begins to question exactly why he would bother to be tethered to any particular kind of authority to begin with?” Silence. “Maybe...” Ariel shrugged, blinking into the wind and starlight. “...it's a matter of honor?” “Or it's to play face,” Seraphimus emphasized. “Rainbow Dash is the biggest factor for change to enter this realm in generations. If the Dream Council anticipated her—that'd be one thing. But they didn't. Her arrival was a complete surprise, intercepted by... this supposed 'dream walking.' And now everything else dealing with the Trinary War campaign has been put on hold so that she can be escorted to where the Dream Council is in person. Honestly, I find it a sheer marvel that Lexxic followed through with his instructions in the first place. When the Council of Verlaxion ordered the capture of the Rainbow Rogue, I was intensely skeptical of the matter. I sent my Lieutenant to investigate, but I didn't see it as being worth my while—or Rohbredden's as a whole. At least not at first.” “... … ...” Rainbow Dash looked at Lexxic's figure, despite the dizziness that preyed upon her senses. “... … ...he's sizing me up.” “He came to meet you. Personally.” Seraphimus' beak clenched. “He may not believe in the Dream Council's pretense... but there's something about you that he does believe in.” “Or maybe it's not about belief...” Rainbow's gaze fell upon the rigid shape of his chaotic helm. “...but about what he's witnessed.” “From what the imps of the dihmer establishment have told me, Lexxic does not commit to any decisions lightly.” Seraphimus folded her forelimbs in mid-flight. She glared into the winds. “If he's wishing take an assessment of you, Rainbow Dash, I in turn wish to take an assessment of him.” “Yeah, well, something tells me that he won't let you get close to him.” “I don't need to.” Seraphimus glanced over. “You, however...?” Rainbow bit her bottom lip. “... … ...not sure that I can.” “It'd be curious if that spells disaster.” “If so—he hasn't capitalized on it.” Rainbow glanced aside. “Is that what you wanted to know about?” “Have you and your... familiars drafted a plan?” “We... uh...” Rainbow looked aside at Applejack and the others. “...we don't really know where to begin. Lexxic sensed the changeling before we did.” Wildcard nodded. “I figured that much,” he gestured. “I mean... imagine having that kind of a gift on our side!” Rainbow exclaimed in a whispery tone. She flew closer to her three physical companions. “It'd certainly make avoiding changelings all that better!” “So, the end goal...” Seraphimus raised an eyecrest. “...is to ride Lexxic's coattails?” “Pffft! No! Of course not!” Rainbow sputtered. “Besides... there're things that I can offer that the Bloodwings could benefit from!” “Like what?” “... … ...I haven't figured that out yet.” “If your ghostly friends can't do better than Lexxic, then why would the Bloodwings want to downgrade?” “For one, Sera, we don't know enough about the state of things yet,” Rainbow countered. “I just... g-gotta speak with the Dream Council.” She took a deep breath. “Then we'll work stuff out from there.” “That's a wise idea, Rainbow,” Ariel said. “One hoof at a time. Be patient with the elders.” “Patience takes time,” Seraphimus droned. “And I'm not certain we have the luxury of enjoying it.” She motioned with her beak at the sarosians. “The Bloodwings as a whole—maybe. But Lexxic...?” Wildcard sighed. He talon-signed: “I have to agree with her on that.” “Well, we'll get nothing by being impulsive neither,” Rainbow muttered. “Let's get to the tree. I'll try to dig up some solution in the middle ground.” Wildcard whistled and pointed ahead. “Speaking of which...” Ariel slurred, her muzzle hanging open inch by inch. The starlight up ahead was being broken in narrow strips—like innumerable branches stretching upward from the blacker-than-black horizon. Rarity did a double-take. “Oh goodness! Are we there yet?” “You mean you didn't sense a big tree looming ahead of us?!” Pinkie cackled. “N-no! I mean...” Rarity blanched. “It's that blasted helmet of his! It must be blinding me!” “Whoah nelly...” Applejack waved herself with her hat. “...that doesn't bode well.” “Rainbow...?” Twilight began. “Shhh!” Rainbow insisted, craning her neck to try and make out the unveiling environment ahead. “One freak-out at a time!” Try as she might, Rainbow couldn't immediately pick out any intricate details. It was as though the entire landscape towards Omega was suddenly bathed in impenetrable shadow. Even the starlight had a difficult time piercing through. If Rainbow squinted, she felt as though she saw a black mist intensifying around them—dimming even the starlight upon approach. The enigma only increased the further she and Lexxic's flock flew forward. She was about to ask for keen insight from her companions—when her nostrils were tickled by a bitter scent. Like burnt wood and simmering embers. The acrid stench grew thicker and thicker, reminding her of the industrial byproducts of Darkstine or Gray Smoke. Something was burning. Everything was burning. Wood and metal and meat and animal fat—all forming a hazy fog that curled wing feathers and stung eyes. The sarosians flew into the haze unhindered. In fact—more than anything—they looked positively reinvigorated by the pungent pollution invading their nostrils along with Rainbow Dash's. Flash noticed leafy ears perking and bright fangs piercing the surmounting soup. “T'ldrymm yln M'wrynwryn,” Masser could be heard purring. Rainbow saw his wings flapping with pronounced vigor up ahead. “It only ever gets more majestic every time I see it.” “If only the majesty extended inward as well as out,” Lexxic mused, causing Rainbow and her friends to blink curiously. The First Son tilted his helm to the side. “It would appear that the warriors of Fourth and Fifth Roots have situated here in our absence.” “What?!” Masser sneered, his shoulder hairs bristling visibly. “Eee-eee-eee!” Hyggs shrieked, or perhaps it was Bosonn. “Thrym sy'lymma Lyw'Malaak! Sym thrym'yl ryk'ryk!” “Settle down, brothers,” Azarias growled—forcing the angry commotion to fade before it rose too much in volume. “Leave the politics to the First Son.” Rainbow noticed the Second ever-so-briefly glancing at Rainbow before addressing Lexxic. “We will be within earshot of our own patrols soon, Brother.” “Quite right. But let us not squander everything on procedure. Every return home is a victory.” The smiling crescent, and he leaned his pale head towards the scout they had picked up in their flight. “Brother, would you care to lead us in song?” Saalt gave the supreme commander a double-take. “M-me, Brother?” “I certainly wasn't referring to your sister.” The entire formation laughed uproariously. Ariel bit her tongue, frowning. “I... uh...” Saalt trembled in mid-flight. “I-I've never led a battle chorus before, Brother.” “Consider it the first...” Lexxic reached out to touch the flying stallion's shoulder. “The first of many—and make them all worth fighting for.” That seemed to make Saalt steel himself with both pride and enthusiasm. “Ywm, Lexxy'kyn.” The sarosian's slitted eyes narrowed as he tilted his head slightly heavenward, like a wolf preparing to howl. What came out of his fanged muzzle was something remarkably harmonic—with structure. A firm meter, worth diving to. “Sy'mhanna Vry'mhanna myl frym wrym~” “Vy'lyma sy'lyma dyl thrym!!!~” the rest of the group punctuated, their bass breaths perfectly matching the same key. “Sy'ryhma Myl'rynna myl srym lymm~” “Vy'lyma sy'lyma dyl thrym!!!~” If Rainbow and her friends were trying to make sense of the moonwhinny lyrics, they soon lost their place in the repeating sarosian syntax. Much of Saalt's leading-lyrics were unique, meandering into more and more flowery syllables before falling back to the same—or the same-sounding—words that he had first led the “song” with. The group's interjectory chorus in response was far more repetitive, and emphatic. The entire practice was in every perceivable way much like a sea shanty, which Rainbow had caught wind of more than a few times while traveling the Seven Seas west of Rohbredden. There was no denying that the hymn—no matter how repetitive—gave the entire formation a new sense of vigor. The air shook like a snare drum between them, and the combined grunts of the chorus resonated through ever bone and leathery wing. Ariel, the ghostly mares, and even Wildcard looked more than a bit rattled from the sheer volume of the combined vocalizations, and it no longer seemed an odd thing to Rainbow Dash that such a chorus—if altered slightly into a more sinister tone—would elicit legitimate fear from the enemies of the Dark Vigil. She tried imagining that hymn being sung across an entire army of thousands upon thousands of Sarosians, and her poor petite brain broke. As the song continued, so did the formation's flight. The jagged shapes of the megastructure ahead of them grew in greater clarity—as if the sheer song was parting the mists between the Bloodwings and their one-and-only homne. Rainbow squinted, trying to concentrate in spite of the atmosphere echoing all around her. She was looking for wood, bark, leaves—all of the context clues that spelled out “tree” in her cute pony mind. Likely Applejack's, too. What she saw instead—or thought she saw—was a mountain. A jagged mountain. An absurd abstract formation of branching stone and granite tributaries solidifying skyward like an upside down fork of lightning, frozen in black bronze. Whatever she was looking at—it was huge. Stupidly huge: the largest and most striking structure she had ever seen since arriving in the Dark Side. Yes, the prehistoric city where the Winter Children had nestled in was a grander and more epic thing than this, but at a glance none of those skyscrapers truly stood out. Besides, most of the dead metropolis' grandeur was below perceivable surface level. The Tree... I was a thing of majesty, and while it blended as well as it could with the grim aesthetic that Rainbow had come to expect from the Dark Side, there was this creeping sense that it simply did not belong there. There was nothing about it that evoked “Light Side” either. Rainbow Dash couldn't remember any tree—or forest—in all her travels that mirrored the likes of what she was starting to observe there. Maybe all of its cousins in Equestria—or wherever its genetic origins lay—had all died out. In any case, being “planted” in the Dark Side was likely the worst-best thing for it. Not a leaf was to be seen, or any shade of green (or any other color for that matter). It was as if something in the soil or earth or sediment of that place was supremely toxic and had long leeched the megastructure of any and all prosperity. Nevertheless, it grew—or it once grew. But now it was a petrified effigy of whatever indomitable spirit had ever first possessed the Dark Vigil to perform their edge-crossing-exodus in the first place. The trunk—the center foundation of the thing—was easily the strongest and most prestigious part of the Tree. It had to have scaled no less than seven hundred jaw-dropping meters from the solid earth below. Rainbow and her friends wondered how in Celestia's name they hadn't seen its shadowed branches scraping the starlight much sooner during their approach. But—looking down—Rainbow peered through the rising mists to realize that the entire floor of the world had been sloping lower during the latter end of their flight. If the Dark Side had a sea level, that particular portion of Omega would very easily be underwater. Upon closer examination, the earth beneath them showed considerable signs of erosion and scarring. If Rainbow squinted, she could even make out a veritable sea of inert wooden stumps—a massive butchered forest, petrified with age and neglect. It reminded her of what she and her fellow Heraldites had discovered when scouting beyond the fringes of Darkreach. It occurred to Rainbow that the Bloodwings may have once relocated their headquarters, pushing further curveside towards the Midnight Armory—where they eventually planted the Tree of Mothers. Either that, or the forest that once supplied their industry once stretched so far and wide that it spanned beyond the current nest of the gigantic Land Wyrm that the Herald had to cross to get there—which was mind-boggling in both its grandeur and its tragedy. An eon's supply of trees, all massacred for a never-ending war. Only one remained—and its eternal value was in its death. Indeed, as Rainbow could now make out, the substance of the trunk and branches was of such a dense and petrified nature that it only resembled mountain granite. The petite pegasus realized she was silly to have expected the texture to resemble the natural bark or wood that she had grown accustomed to on the Dark Side. Perhaps if examined up close—within a snout's distance—she might spot the tell-tale signs of a once-living organism, but time and gigantism and a dismaying coating of soot had rendered the entire skin of the structure a thick onyx black. Yes, soot, for smoke was constantly and forever rising from countless pits and camps and crevices beneath the group. Ariel coughed and wheezed while Seraphimus and Wildcard held their beaked breaths. Rainbow's ghostly friends felt like they needed to choke—for the columns of rising ash was so damnably thick in portions. Studying closer, Rainbow caught hints and glimpses of some... subterranean level beneath the surface of the earth. It had been carved out over the generations—no doubt—and seemingly filled with some eternally-burning compound. At first glance, it resembled a bed of hot coals, or perhaps even the molten metal of a ginormous furnace. Somehow, this was all maintained in an ever-expansive “basement” level beneath the ground along the Alpha fringes of the valley. The earth resonated with intense heat, and the thermals fought upwards against Rainbow's wings as she struggled to descend along with the dauntless Bloodwings. Between the lyrics of the moonwhinny hymn, she heard the tell-tale ringing of metal clashing against metal. She looked down to see velvety black specks—hammering away—minding their random stations along the vaporous fringes of the open patches of subterranean blazes. The entire heated expanse was utilized as an elaborate open-air foundry, with countless sarosian souls employed in blacksmith roles, no doubt conjuring newer and newer blades, armor, and tools for the endless Trinary War. Just past these smoldering stations, the smoke faded. The air also cooled, and Rainbow could see a flat-flat stretch of earth, its stone surface polished to a near-reflective sheen from countless decades of being trotted and galloped on. That's because this was the location for an encampment. The Encampment—Rainbow judged—for what blanketed this sunken plain was the largest and most prestigious smattering of barracks, armories, mess halls, and tents that she had seen in her entire life. The mare had spanned an entire continent embroiled in war, and between both the accumulated might of Ledomare and Xona—including No Mare's Land—she had still never witnessed an arrangement of this enormous scale. Unlike the Tree and the “foundry” system, every single building and tent and lean-to looked relatively fresh or new. Rainbow judged that with each birthed generation of sarosian soldiers—there was likewise a new resupply of materials for the war effort. Not all things about the Bloodwings' lair had to be static and unchanging; it simply wouldn't make sense. As the group passed over the military camp—that stretched on for the better part of forty square kilometers—Rainbow heard more grunting and hissing... enough to rival the battle hymn that heralded Lexxic's return. The formation had dipped low enough for her to see individual bodies below—and there were thousands of them... several of whom were arranged in lines, exercising and training in countless battle drills. She saw the glint of blades and spears and shields, accompanied by the dim glow of runic enchantment. Every once in a while, there was the startling thunderclap of multiple rifles. Rainbow and her friends caught sight of targets exploding at the far end of well-organized firing squads. In some spots, sarosian practioners stood with etched sigils, summoning runic shield spells and other anomalies of questionably glowing energy. Twilight's eyes widened, reflecting lunar silver and otherworldly purples—but the group was moving far too swiftly towards the Tree and she pouted as her anchor strung her along. By now, several other flying squadrons had come to fill the air above the massive camp. Many of them dwarfed Lexxic's group, gliding in tightly-gridded formations, singing their own separate aerial hymns as they transferred supplies from one location to another. As Lexxic and his company glided past separate groups, there was an exchanged of glinting fangs and high-pitched shrieks. Rainbow Dash saw smiles—all of them proud—and her group's hymn continued, carrying them deeper into Omega, possessing a singular cadance against the increasing cacophony of war preparations. It was a chilling sensation: being around this much life... especially that which was obsessed with death. The last time Rainbow had witnessed so many ponies crammed into one place at once—it was Kunmane, back in Rohbredden. Here, there was no festivity, but the energy was still quite similar. Despite the abject misery of the Trinary War, there was an undeniable excitement to the air. Some heightened passion gripped the Bloodwings like a vice and kept their hearts pumping long into the night. No more intense was this excitement felt than within the aura immediately surrounding Lexxic and his pale visage. As the First Son's group flew over camps and barracks and field training, the air resounded with reverent shouts and hisses and chirps. Lexxic responded to each outburst with a smile or a wave or a nod of the weighted head—always blind, and yet somehow always seeing. It wasn't until then that Rainbow Dash realized that Lexxic wasn't singing along with the chorus of his subordinates. It was as though he was above and beyond the song, and he took it upon himself to reflect the praise and acknowledgment of all his brothers. His brothers, for surely there wasn't a “sister” among them. Rainbow looked and looked, but saw no sign of any mares within the army. Every single Bloodwing was an able-bodied stallion, and the air was positively vibrating with their intense, competitive testosterone. It gave a perpetual bass echo to the grandeur of the sarosian camp, and it only intensified as Lexxic's formation carried itself—and its song—to the base of the Tree. As incredibly enormous as the structure was, Rainbow Dash couldn't help but feel that an appropriate word for the monolothic headquarters would be: “stumpy.” If she were to shrink the Tree down to a more “natural” scale, it would resemble a dead widowmaker lingering in the backyard of some abandoned farm on the outskirts of Ponyville—maybe something worth carving one's name into or hanging a foal's swing from. Rainbow felt that the Tree—perhaps—could have grown even taller, but had instead been forced to terminate at a much shallower (albeit still impressive) height, ultimately appearing more wide than it was skyscraping. The branches that spread outward from its midsection and upwards, however, were far less “shy.” They carved a lateral path outwards, defying gravity for dozens upon dozens of meters. They were thick too, and Rainbow imagined several hundred ponies being able to fill its interior—for she instantly assumed it was hollow. This theory was supported by countless lights brimming from outside and inside the branches, suggesting “windows” that had been carved out over time. There was an undeniable hint of “life” all along the body of the tree, and it only grew more complex and more uniquely colored the higher the luminescent specks scaled. Flying closer, Rainbow Dash could make out auspicious structures—balconies, perhaps—extending outward from the occasional branch that leveled out with the horizon. From these platforms, winged figures alighted and landed, their bodies accompanied by runic glows and flickering spells. The formation flew ever closer to the Tree, and at this point it was growing more and more difficult for Rainbow to observe any details of—much less even see—the topmost branches. So, instead, she took note of what loomed below. To her surprise, there was even more to see within the shadow of the massive trunk. This was mostly due to the roots—which were massive megastructures in their own right. They resembled the scraggy, sprawling, rivering nether structures of a cypress tree... only scaled upwards by a factor of one hundred. Rainbow suspected that the the biggest, thickest, mightiest roots dug deep underground—penetrating far into what was otherwise iron-tough rock and earth. But there were still several noodling strands that rose up and out and sometimes even back into the petrified soil, forming a very complex and very elaborate web of rivering lattices, some as thick as ship's barges and others as thin at pipelines. And between and beneath and betwixt the sea of these steel-like strands, a city had been erected. A massive city, shaded from starlight by the nethers of the Tree, expansive and huddled and no-doubt filling the entire circumference of the megastructure in three-hundred-and-sixty degrees of creative urbanity. Here, sarosian bodies milled about, trotting to and fro with supplies, serving meat and fats from fresh-kills. The carcasses of slaughtered Dark Side creatures—marking several species Rainbow and her friends couldn't even count—hung on the fringes of butcher stands. There were tents and huts and other small structures where ponies squatted over alchemic arrays of pale sedimentary dust—slowly and intricately crafting tell-tale runes for the war effort. Freshly-smithed blades and armor were rolled in from the encampment, and Rainbow observed as suppliers shrieked into the root-shadowed streets, summoning able-bodied warriors to come and get their newest equipment. What Rainbow couldn't see were any signs of a competitive economy. There were no shops, no markets, no signs of trading or bartering—a stark contrast to the Impish industry that had strangle-held the dihmers back in Blobstain. Even under the gnarled roots that formed the base of the Tree—hidden from nebulae and twilight—the Bloodwings functioned as one well-oiled machine... albeit a machine on its last functioning cogs. There was no sign of art or embellishment or recreation. Instead, the gaps between the war were filled with hymn, with some sort of culturally-inherited mirth, with the looks of pride and swagger on the faces of so many battle-hardened stallions. And—even still—not a single mare. Not here in this township—the heartiest place Rainbow had seen in the entire Dark Side. But there were foals. The mere sight of them elicited a gasp from Ariel—which also brought numb shock to Rainbow, having travel for so long without spotting a single youngster and only now realizing it. At some point—Rainbow Dash grasped at straws to tell when or where—the formation must have passed over some invisible dividing line, and now there were foals intermixed with the grown adults. There were only colts—of course—which didn't particularly surprise Rainbow. What did surprise her—however—was that all of the coats were armed. Some even more so than the adults who busied themselves with manufacturing, butchery, and rune-etching. Rainbow and her friends saw tiny “companies” of colts—all equipped with spears and armor—marching in line under the hymnal command of slightly larger colts... probably teenagers in charge of the juvenile battalions. The very sight of this last detail sent a shudder through Rainbow's friends. “Blessed Celestia...” Rarity shuddered. “...is nothing sacred?” “Are you kidding me?!” Pinkie Pie blanched. “Those cute little trot-trotters are being forced to fight as well?!” Applejack scratched her blond head. “They dun seem too terribly sad about it.” “That's not the point!” Fluttershy sniffled. “Who would ever think of throwing foals into a horrible, horrible war?!” “For the Bloodwings, war is everything,” Twilight said in a quiet tone, barely discernible beneath the aerial hymn all around them. “The only thing more important is victory.” “Fluttershy...” Rarity looked at her friend with a despondent expression. “Can you tell just... h-how many youngsters are there?” She shook her had sadly. “Not while we're still this close to Lexxic.” “Judgin' from how many are fritterin' about beneath us in just this part of this place...” Applejack looked at the others. “...I bet they're plum everywhere.” “And also carrying swords,” Pinkie said, pouting. “Still no mares,” Twilight said, silencing the group. “They have to be somewhere,” she said. “This is far more sarosians than I expected to still be alive on the Dark Side! It's practically a living and functioning nation full of them!” “Can't get them babies poppin' out with only stallions,” Applejack said. The group looked at her strangely. “Just sayin'...” She shrugged. “...I mean, they can certainly try, but wouldn't get far without more than a few mares thrown into the mix.” “Twilight, darling, were Nightmare Moon's troops...” Rarity fidgeted, struggling to find a word as they passed more and more branches above and beneath them. “...w-were they always this segregated?” “Are you asking me if they always had a military consisting only of stallions?” “Precisely.” “No. No, they did not.” Twilight's eyes narrowed. “In fact, Equestria has always—statistically—had more females in the population than males. In almost every generation. Scientists believe that it's all due to initial genetic manipulation by the first generation of changelings mixing with the pre-Equestrian citizenry.” “Ohhhhhhh...” Pinkie Pie nodded. “Funny. I always wondered why every classroom I grew up in only had one or two colts in it!” “So—long story short—there were lots and lots of mares serving in the military on both sides of the Solar Civil War,” Twilight explained. “This was especially true in the Lunar Empire, considering...” She fidgeted in midair. Rainbow Dash glanced at her. “Considering what, Twilight?” Rarity asked. “Well...” Twilight's lavender muzzle scrunched as she looked at the sarosians beside, above, and beneath her as they pierced the depths of the Bloodwing home. “...Princess Luna... and especially Nightmare Moon always employed a very matriarchal form of governing. With a few exceptions, all of the executive officers were mares. The ruling representatives were mares. Even the governors of the Northern Trots—who sided with the Lunar Empire—were primarily comprised of female ponies.” “That seems to have carried over,” Fluttershy remarked. “When Rainbow describes Nat'rdo and her fellow Dream Council, all I imagine are mares.” “And isn't this here place called the 'Tree of Mothers?'” Applejack's brow furrowed. “And ain't the Bloodwings obsessed with the 'Mother of Nightmares?'” “Maybe we're over-thinking it,” Rarity said. “M-maybe something's just been lost in translation.” “Or... just how long ago do ya reckon this here tree was named what it was named?” “... … ...” Rainbow Dash considered speaking up—but she heard a murmur from Ariel to her left. “Anything?” she asked. “They got a beat on what's really going on here?” Rainbow cleared her throat, struggling to produce sound above the mighty hymn echoing around them. “Nothing more than we can see and hear.” Ariel fidgeted in mid-air. “I don't like this, Rainbow Dash.” “Easy, girl,” the petite pegasus breathed, eyes darting about as the shadows and roots increased. “We're just now piercing the horizon of what the Bloodwings have to offer.” “Why else do you think I'm feeling like throwing up?” Rainbow Dash saw a metal talon glinting in runelight. She looked towards Wildcard in time to see him sign: “Am I the only one with the biggest question of the day?” She merely squinted at him in curious patience. The Desperado's goggles reflected her face as he continued: “Where the Hell is the moon?” Seraphimus responded to him: “I've been thinking the same thing.” She looked up... up... up at the imposing trunk of the Tree, blending into the soot'd blackness above them. “There's no earthly way they could have hidden that monolithic satellite.” “Well, obviously they did,” Rainbow Dash said. “And it's not a 'satellite,' Sera. At least not in the traditional sense. Which means they could hide it in a non-traditional way.” “I think we've yet to ascertain the full cunning of these creatures,” Seraphimus said. She turned to look at Rainbow. Her expression was curiously enthusiastic beneath her helmet. “I, for one, am impressed.” Rainbow blanched, facing ahead as the branches parted ways to exposed a large hollow chamber, lit with runes for some sacred purpose. “Okay... now I'm starting to freak out...”