//------------------------------// // Now, Something Completely Different // Story: Ofolrodi // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// Heavy, stern hoofsteps echoed across a winding corridor within the fringe wings of Gibbous Sanctum. Captain Xandraa ducked her lofty head, passing under an inner knot set within the gnarled woodwork that comprised the Sanctum's walls. As she passed a flickering old runelight or two, she caught something peculiar in her peripheral vision. Turning, the Captain faced a narrow entrance that led into the brightly-lit supply compartment—which was becoming progressively cluttered as a certain unicorn rummaged desperately through her tools and belongings. Papers and other forms of stationary flew and rustled to the ground, causing the Captain to groan. She trotted briskly through the entrance. “Dutiful sister...!” Xandra threaded her way into the room, gazing past the rows upon rows of shelves filled to the brim with scrolls and writing equipment. “Are you not ready yet?” “No,” Ariel droned. “She's not.” Xandraa did a double-take, noticing the pegasus sitting casually against a cramped wall with her forelimbs folded. Instead of questioning the visitor, she turned to squint at the Imperialist Clerk fumbling to fill her saddlebag in the center of the room. “You are a keeper of Matriarchal Records...!” Xandraa said firmly. “By duty and by blood, you have been allowed residence within Gibbous Sanctum!” She tried on a smile, but it came across as crooked on her otherwise rigid muzzle. “Nopony of lower station will be allowed to so much as touch you—save by purpose of saving your life from uncertain peril—” “But it's that uncertain peril that b-bothers me!” Shriike stammered. She clumped a wad of writing paper together, got halfway through shoving it into her bag, blanched at its flimsy texture, and threw it back onto a shelf before grabbing another wad. “What if I get m-m-my blood sucked out by a d-drone of the Flux?! What if a st-stampede of sm-smelly beasts crush my precious body to a precious p-pulp?! What... what if I get a d-disease from so much as breathing the air down by the roots?!” She spun and shook a scroll towards the Captain like it was an angry old mare's cane. “Those br-brutish Blood Colts are practically foaled in the same muck that chaos trolls b-bathe in!” She realized whom she was committing the gesture to, and her refracted pupils shrank to pinpricks. “Erm... th-that's th-theoretical ch-chaos muck, ma'am!” She shakily saluted. Sighing, Xandraa reached out and slowly lowered the unicorn's hoof down to her side. “I know a thing or two about the metals from the bleaks, clerk. I doubt you will be traversing anywhere near them.” “But... b-but the P-Pit!” Shriike gulped. “I personally transcribe requisition forms over the transfer of totems to and from that h-hellish place every day—!” Xandraa leaned down until she was glaring dead-center in Shriike's spectacles. “Do you honestly believe that somepony like Lexxic would bring the W'ynlppa yln H'luun to a place so important to him?” “... … ...” Shriike nevertheless gulped. “Uh... n-no...” She adjusted her spectacles, her vision full of Captain. “I suppose he would not. Eheh...” Xandraa once again stood at full height, nearly grazing the ceiling of the supply compartment with her leafy ears. “I understand that this is a daunting experience for you, clerk. But you will not die simply for setting hoof past the roots and beyond. I myself have ventured outside the Tree for duty multiple times, and I am only stronger for it.” Her eyeslits narrowed. “Rejoice in this opportunity that you have to serve the maria matriarchs—for it is a capacity in which they are not blessed to serve themselves. But us? This is our place. This is our function. And who knows better how to reward us for abiding by our function?” Shriike sighed, hanging her head. “The Mother of Nightmares...” Xandraa's jaw tightened. As seconds ripped by, she arched an impatient eyebrow. Shriike snapped out of it. “Oh... uhhh—!” She stood up straight and saluted again, the tip of her horn glowing slightly. “The Mother of Nightmares... ma'am!” “Mmmmm...” Xandraa turned towards the exit, pausing briefly. “Keep in mind... you are to stay by Rainbow Dash's side at all times. Your job is to keep record of her conversations with Lexxic, yes. But there's more to it than that.” “Captain...?” Xandraa's gaze narrowed on her again. “If for any bizarre reason the Commander of the Bloodwings was to bring Rainbow Dash—and you by proxy—to a place wrought with 'uncertain peril,' then that would merit a reason for someone—namely you—to inform me forthwith. As in immediately. For there are some things that the Maria Matriarch absolutely will not condone, and for the time being you shall be their eyes and ears. Such is the aim of the Rite of Census—at least in this case. Do I make myself clear?” “If... it's to avoid something th-that'll make you panic—as in panic panic, and not my usual panickiness—then I'd better get my butt back up in this nice warm safe Tree and tell you.” “... … ...yes, that'll do.” Xandraa turned to leave. “Best of luck.” “Should I break her leg or should you?” Ariel asked. Xandraa stopped—if only to blink at Ariel. A grumpy snort, and the Captain let her be, trotting briskly off down the corridor. Once she was gone, Ariel took a breath and stepped towards the center of the compartment, and Shriike in turn. “You heard the boss, little hornlet. The only basket-case you should be stuffing is yourself—with good ol' fashioned guts. Let's hop to it, already.” “But... b-but I can't just stumble out there like a c-completely incompetent nimrod!” Shriike shrieked. “I've got to be prepared for all of the dialogue I'll inevitably have to scribble down! In... various dialects of moonwhinny... spoken by violent vagabonds...” She gulped. “...with rancid breaths...” Another gulp. “And a thirst for blood!” “Well, all you guys are the 'Bloodwings.'” “But my blood's the sweetest!” Shriike's spectacles rattled as she spun to gape at Ariel. “You don't understand, Penumbran. On this side of the world, ponies only ever suck their way upward.” Ariel smirked. “I'd say sunlight kisses plenty of suckups where I'm from.” She waved a hoof. “Relax, sassafras. If worse comes to worse, you'll be surrounded by a bunch of awesome, badass flank-kickers. Also Seraphimus.” “Just what an imperialist clerk needs!” Shriike huffed, rummaging through various pens and ink containers. “A plethora of otherworldly posteriors to suffocate her!” “Jee. You're welcome,” Ariel droned. She blew out the side of her muzzle. “Anyways, you heard your concrete boss, girl! Let's hoof it!” “B-b-but I can't decide...!” “Unnnnghhh...” Ariel pulled at her face muscles. “Can't decide what?!” “Well, I mean, I have room for plenty of hoofnotes! But this will b-be my first time d-directly transcribing from field Bloodwing m-muzzles! And not just those old waifs who are allowed to m-meet with the New-Speaking keepers down below! This is the real, raw deal! I... f-feel woefully unprepared! So... I-I think I should bring my field manual on proper Imperialist field note taking! But if I bring the field manual on proper Imperialist field note taking, then I won't have room for actual field notes! Plus, if I had to borrow this much parchment, then I'll need copies of the requisition forms in case we get caught by Camp Captains on patrol who wish to interrogate and examine us for Flux contaminants and—” “For the love of plot!” Ariel marched over and batted a bunch of the papers out of Shriike's hooves. “Ya half-baked moronicorn!! You gotta buck the burrrr out of 'bureaucracy!' Or else...” Shriike blinked through the falling rain of letters. “Or else wh-what?!” “I'll kick what's left!” Ariel jerked forward, sneering into Shriike's muzzle. “Your aucracy!!!” “Wuaaaaiee!” Shriike flailed. “Uhhh... uhhhhh...” She did a nervous little jig in the center of the room, swept up half a mountain of paper, and stuffed the meager bit into her bag. Grabbing half-a-dozen pens in her fanged teeth, she spat them into her saddle's pocket and leapt out of the room. Once in the adjacent hallway, she froze in place... wincing... wincing... wincing... then finally breathing with relief. “Oh... oh wow...” “See what I mean?” Ariel trotted out into the hallway, standing beside her. “Isn't action better than inaction?!” She gestured past the runelights. “You wanna survive the world beyond the Tree? It's about moving forward. Thinking on your hooves. All of this anxious build-up means nothing in the long run. More often than not, you'll lose a bunch of crap along the way, and you'll look back realizing that you didn't need half of it! Just depend on your wits, girl! Simple as that!” “Yes... oh so very... simple.” Shriike's trembles died away as she breathed firmer and firmer. “And freeing. I feel so... so liberated. And courageous!” A half-hearted chuckle. “I have no clue whatsoever why I let you get me so worked up earlier!” “Yes, well, you were just—” Ariel did a double-take. “Huh?!” “Whew! Well... let's not waste anymore time, Penumbran!” The clerk cinched her saddlebag tight and trotted gaily forward. “Last one to the Roots is a nimrodddd!” Ariel gawked after her. A deep growl raised from the center of her being, and she had to bite down the middle of her own fetlock to silence it. “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnn...!” Spitting her hoof loose, she trudged after the sarosian unicorn, her unamused eyes just brimming with murder. “I dunno how Rainbow Dash made it through a single continent. Diplomacy skills of a friggin' saint, I swear to Mortuana...” “I'm super... super glad for all the hospitality that you and your sisters have shown me, Nat'rdo,” Rainbow Dash said, pacing slowly through the opulent hovels of Gibbous Sanctum. She looked like she was going to say more, but her facial features drooped with noticeable misgivings. Nat'rdo, trotting beside her, took notice. “But there is a problem?” “I... don't feel like any progress has been made.” Rainbow's ears twitched. The two passed a group of elders lounging as they watched a little filly in a silver dress slowly paint a starry landscape onto a propped piece of canvas. “I showed up here. I made a bunch of ladies mad. Then I got to speak alone with an even more important lady... and I-I honestly can't tell if I impressed her or just made her pissed as well.” “Mistress Faatail wishes you to bide your time until she has finished speaking with her fellow maria matriarchs—presumably for a future meeting.” Nat'rdo remained calm, composed, and deadpan during their conversational stroll. “That is hardly indicative of an angryor frustrated elder.” “Even still...” Rainbow's muzzle twisted as she gazed a thousand miles ahead of them in mid-trot. “I feel like she expected something of me... something she did not exactly get. She sensed Princess Luna's enchantment. You all did.” Rainbow looked aside. “So what more is there?” “Your presence here—and the memories you carry in your dreams—signify huge changes in the fate and constitution of the Mother of Nightmares,” Nat'rdo declared. “The very reason the Dark Vigil is here—the cause of why we've been fighting this damnable war for a dozen generations—is suddenly deserving to be redefined.” “Do you believe that??” Rainbow asked. Nat'rdo softly exhaled. “I have seen what I've seen.” “Yeah, but...” Rainbow scuffled to a stop and faced her directly in the runelight. “So have the others. They've seen what's in my memories. They've heard me tell the tale of what's happened to Princess Luna.” Her ruby eyes narrowed. “Shouldn't they already be determined to kiss this stupid war good bye and head back home to be with their Mother?” “It is not quite that simple, Rainbow Dash,” Nat'rdo said. “I don't know how things transpire currently in the seared lands, but this particular society cannot exactly change from its traditional ways so quickly.” Rainbow cocked her head to the side. “...or what if the Mother of Nightmares simply isn't that important anymore.” Nat'rdo's fangs showed. “That is a bold and—frankly—insulting insinuation.” “Is it?” Rainbow arched an eyebrow. “Nightmare Moon's gone. Princess Luna is back to her normal self. She's blessed my pendant with an enchantment that all of you have sensed for yourselves. There's no reason to remain camped here, engaged in this crazy conflict.” A blink, and Rainbow's ears drooped. “Unless...” Slowly shrinking pupils. “...you can't just walk away from things.” Nat'rdo was silent. Rainbow swallowed. “Exactly why is it that Mistress Faatail wants me to stick by Lexxic's side the whole time she chats it up with her sisters?” “I am not one to presume the wisdom of the highest polished,” Nat'rdo declared. “Well, I haven't got a stupid brand on my neck, so I feel free to presume from here to Ragneighrok,” Rainbow droned. “There's a lot more to this refusal on behalf of the Maria Matriarch to see the war stallions face to face, isn't there?” “Their stations are far too low,” Nat'rdo abruptly explained “They are simply not allowed—” “Caste systems aside...” Rainbow's gaze was piercing. “...they wouldn't ever see eye-to-eye even if they tried, would they?” Nat'rdo fumed, avoiding Rainbow's face. “It's more than stubbornness that runs deep. There are things in the Dark Vigil that are even deeper than blood.” “Coming from you, that says a lot.” Rainbow's face washed over with pity. “That's gotta suck, girl.” “I beg your pardon?” “You're a Dream Knight,” Rainbow Dash said. “How horrible it must be to see so much... but be able to do so little.” She sighed. “Especially when your entire culture needs it the most.” “Things would have been a great deal different...” Nat'rdo hung her head slightly. “...had I not been the one chosen to be Knight.” Rainbow blinked at that. She switched gears slightly, bearing a hopeful smile. “But you're so friggin' good at it! Give yourself some credit! You brought me here, didn't you?” Nat'rdo looked at her. In a calm voice, she said: “Pay attention to Lexxic, Rainbow Dash. Keep your ears open, and your mind opened wider. He is going to tell you things that nopony within the Tree ever will, but his intentions will lack the righteousness and integrity that would otherwise have come from higher places.” “Why the sudden heads up?” Rainbow blinked. “You're acting as you're responsible for him.” “We all are,” Nat'rdo said quietly, glancing towards the other mares in the distance of the Sanctum. “But you won't hear that so commonly admitted.” Rainbow glanced at the elegant mares lounging about the opulent surroundings. Her eyes darted back to Nat'rdo. “When all is said and done... the decision for what the Vigil does or where it goes... …. … is up to the Maria Matriarchs...” Her ears twitched. “...isn't it?” “We made our decisions long ago,” Nat'rdo said. “It is far too late to change certain things. But that doesn't stop many of the highest polished from trying.” “Well, maybe they should switch from trying to doing.” “Which brings us to where we are,” Nat'rdo said. “Or—more specifically—to where you are.” Rainbow's jaw went slightly slack as her ears folded back. “Jee... for a culture dead-set on not changing... you guys really like to put the spotlight on a Penumbran newcomer.” “Perhaps it's the final proof you need—that your presence here has indeed impacted the elders as a whole.” “When you say 'as a whole,' you really only mean just yourself and Mistress Faatail.” “Do not be quick to despair.” Nat'rdo began trotting again. “Lady Prunus was also quite impressed.” “'Ayyyyyyy...” Rainbow smirked, trotting after Nat'rdo while sporting a sarcastic breath. “Lady Prunus! Wowwwwww... I'll be selling out seats within the season.” “Be respectful,” Nat'rdo muttered. “She's more than just my mentor.” “Yeah? Who else?” Nat'rdo didn't have an immediate reply. So Rainbow continued. “I really hope—no matter where this goes—that I wasn't a disappointment to you, Nat'rdo.” That summoned a curious look from the Dream Knight. “Why should that be of any consequence?” “Because I can tell that however things go down, we're gonna have to rely on ponies with deep character to get anything done.” Rainbow offered a kind smirk. “And so far, you've done all you can to let me get my voice across.” “It did not start out quite so simply,” Nat'rdo remarked. “The first time I sensed your dreams, I considered you a threat.” “Which only proves my point,” Rainbow said. “You've got the good sense to embrace change. That can go a long way.” Nat'rdo sighed, looking blandly ahead. “Not all change brings good tidings.” “Yeah, well...” Rainbow swallowed. “I guess one change has gotta outfly the other.” “With the Mother's blessings.” “Sure, why not.” As they turned a gnarled corner within the narrowing Sanctum... ...a unicorn figure bumped straight into Rainbow Dash. “Ooomf!!” Shriike fell back on her haunches, losing a scroll or two. “Hey! Why don't you watch where you're going, you insufferable—” She looked up and paled at the sight of Rainbow Dash and Nat'rdo. “... … ...totally-not-nimrod ponies.” “Hey.” Ariel waved, hovering in the air behind the collapsed clerk. “We're ready to go. Please let us go.” “Ariel, what the hay is this?” Rainbow remarked, gesturing at the klutzy clerk. “Poetry in motion.” Ariel looked at Rainbow. “I spoke to Captain Xandraa a bit ago. She told us to meet up with Lukaas—Lexxic's Fifth—down by the roots.” “She sent for the dude to meet up with us?” “Yeah, something like that.” “A word of advice,” Nat'rdo began. “Really?” Ariel smiled crookedly. “Because we could use a mountain of 'em!” Nat'rdo took on a serious tone. “You will not wish to be deprived of Lexxic's own personal company for long. If for some reason he leaves you under the charge of his subordinates—you will be worse off. While Lexxic himself may be at odds with the Council, he is still Commander of the Mother's Vigil, and his loyalty demands an honor that will protect you.” Nat'rdo's eyes narrowed. “I cannot promise the same of all the Sons who serve him.” Rainbow and Ariel exchanged glances, then looked at Nat'rdo again. “I don't suppose there's a wild pack of chaos trolls we can hang with instead?” Ariel suggested. “Ariel...” Rainbow quietly groaned. “I bid thee well.” Nat'rdo bowed, then turned about and trotted towards the far end of the Sanctum. “When the time comes—and Mistress Faatail has afforded a new audience—you shall be summoned.” “How will we know?” Rainbow Dash asked. “You will know.” Nat'rdo had left them. “Well...” Ariel folded her forelimbs in mid-hover. “...that's not ominous or nothing.” “I think 'ominous' around here counts as 'heavenly'...” She looked at the Heraldite. “So long as it's coming from the upper tree.” “How will we pretend to count our blessings among Lexxic's brothers?” “Do you really want to spend all this time up here in this cushy, hoity-toity place?” “... … ...point well-made.” Ariel touched down with a smirk. “Let's go get dirty.” “Dang skippy.” Rainbow Dash smirked back. “Uhhhhh...” Shriike floundered on the ground with her hefty saddlebag like an overturned pill bug. “A little h-help here!” “Hey, I got it covered.” Ariel scooped up a wad of papers and pens, walked over Shriike's body, and made for the passageway down to the lower chambers. “Let's boogie.” “Couldn't have said it better.” Rainbow followed behind, calling back to the Imperialist Clerk. “Hurry up, slowpoke! Brand new smells await!” Shriike huffed, puffed, then threw herself up onto hall fours. “Unghhh...” She trudged after the two, her ears and tail drooping. “...they better preserve my glorious ashes for the return exodus, or somepony's gonna get a strongly-worded letter.” “And this...” Masser led Seraphimus and Wildcard towards a smattering of circular-fenced arenas where Bloodwing warriors were clashing and sparring with various weapons under endless starlight. “...this is where we train to be violent and spill blood,” the Third said. “You'll notice it's... very loud.” Seraphimus nodded. “I see.” Wildcard talon-gestured something. Masser blinked blankly at him. “And... erm...” He motioned, then led the two griffons across the plateau of stone to an even larger circle where dozens of stallions were squaring off with one another. Weapons collided with showers of sparks while warriors screamed and charged and screamed and charged. “This is where we are violent and spill blood. You'll notice it's... also loud.” Seraphimus nodded. “I... see.” Wildcard gestured something else. Masser bit his bottom lip with crooked fangs. He looked left... looked right... then finally found a tent looming in the distance. Awkwardly, he motioned the two griffons to follow, then trotted towards the tent. “And... uhm...” As the three approached the tent, they heard wailing and shrieking voices warbling consistently from within. A heap of bloody bandages formed a crimson pile outside one of the tent's entrances. “...this is one of our camp hospitals, where we... … ...just spill blood.” Masser gulped. “It's usually the loudest here.” Seraphimus and Wildcard exchanged glances. “I am...” Masser's large muscular body shifted in place. “... … ...not as clearly gifted with communication as the First Son. This is the extent of what I have to present you.” He steeled himself, his scarred face serious and frowning. “It must be excused.” “We are far from bothered,” Seraphimus stated. She waved a talon. “It is clearly a most efficient form of military preparation.” “It is?” the large stallion asked. When he saw the griffons giving him weird looks, he stiffened and stood tall. “It is!” His fangs showed again. “All opposition we face are ground ruthlessly into dust and their souls stolen for the Pit!” Wildcard did a double-take. “I'm sorry...?” Seraphimus took a step forward, cocking her feathery head curiously to the side. “What's this you say about... souls and the Pit?” “I...” Masser's leafy ears drooped. He paled visibly through his geometric tattoos. “I-I... erm...” After much fidgeting, he leapt forward, thunderously slamming both front hooves into the ground between them, forming fissures. “Behold! My truest strength on the battlefield! A war shriek that makes all enemies collapse in bloody heaps!!!” With that said, the hefty stallion spun around and opened his jaws wide, launching a sonic shriek across the stone encampment. “EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!” Both Seraphimus and Wildcard had to cover their ears. Nevertheless they watched—with legitmately impressed gazes—as a swath of sundered rock shattered its way towards Omega from the pressure of Messer's fixated outburst. … … ...And then it struck a corner of the hospital tent in the near distance. Half of the fabric collapsed, and the occupants within yelped at a higher volume of agony and despair. Messer immediately stopped shrieking. His muzzle twisted as cold sweat oozed from his pores. “O-oh...” He raised both front hooves, leather wings flapping. “...oh st-steaming defecation...!” “Hressshhh!” A pair of stallions in bloodied surgical aprons fumbled and fought their way from under from the collapsed tent fabric. They peered out, frowning and spouting a stream of angry moonwhinny at the Third. “Thy'myl syln ryk ryk! Wy'sym lym thry'nyl symma k'lym!” “Hry'symyl!” Messer bumbled towards them, lifting a tent pole in his mighty haunches—but only causing tears in the fabric as he struggled to upright the entire structure. “Grrnnngh!” The surgeons punched and kicked his fetlocks and fought over uprighting the tent as more bloody bellows issued from inside. “Sy'mylym thrym H'Luun! Yln'my wrym syl'na thrym!” “H'jnor! H'jnor! Ryk ryk!” “Eee-Eee-Eee-Eee!!!” Seraphimus and Wildcard watched awkwardly from a few paces away. They looked at one another. “I shudder to think how their funeral services go,” the former Talon Commander droned. “Assuming they even have any.” To that, Wildcard used his metal talon to charade flatulence. “I leave for one measly slumber party,” Rainbow Dash said, suddenly standing nearby with Ariel, Lukaas, and a jittery Imperialist Clerk. “And this is how fast things crumble without me.” Seraphimus and Wildcard turned around. The Desperado waved enthusiastically at the sight of Rainbow. “Rrrrrnghh!” The pale and balding Fifth marched up towards the chaotic scene. “What in the Narrow is happening here?!” Lukaas demanded, frowning. “Look at the condition of this infirmary!” “Lexxic had... business to attend to elsewhere,” Seraphimus delicately explained in a monotone voice. She gestured a talon towards the sarosians floundering with re-erecting the tent. “He left us in the charge of the Third Son.” “Hrmmm...” Lukaas exhaled hard out the side of his muzzle. “Yes, I suppose that would explain things.” He cracked the joints in his neck and trotted firmly towards the chaotic scene. “Let me fix this damnable mess. Stay here!” His snowy tail flicked in Rainbow's and Ariel's direction, and soon he had joined the clumsy scene. “Masser'myn!! Sy'my lyn ryk ryk! H'jornii sy'wythym yln h'jemii sy'rymsym!” “Sy'lyssym wy'lm h'jem, Sy'lukas'ymb! Wym sy'lya h'jnorii—” “Vrym h'jnorii thy'syma! Srym thym'l lyw sy'myn lym!!” Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash and Ariel calmly turned to face the griffons. “Lexxic ditched you guys?” Rainbow asked. “He evidently felt that a matter deserved his full attention,” Seraphimus said. “Something to do with a 'cowardly group of twelve' who had been pardoned by someone named Lyw'Malaak, and they are currently en route here, escorted by a company of Bloodwings from the Third Root.” Wildcard gave Seraphimus a double-take. The former Talon Commander glanced calmly back. “What? Do you truly think you're the only creature who listens, Jordan?” The Desperado merely exhaled. Turning to Rainbow Dash, he gestured: “Lexxic clearly wants to intercept these twelve before anypony else.” “You mean like the elders?” Rainbow Dash asked. Wildcard nodded. Rainbow breathed slowly, contemplatively. “There's a bunch of stuff at play here.” She gazed across the encampment full of sparring Bloodwings. “Most of it in the dark—and not just cuz we're on the Dark Side.” “What of the Dream Council?” Seraphimus asked. “How did that meeting conclude?” “Well—for one—I got to speak with somepony even higher.” “Do tell.” “Her name is Mistress Faatail,” Rainbow Dash explained. “She's a member of the Maria Matriarchs, the Highest Polished. We got to... chat for a little bit.” “How fortuitous.” Seraphimus raised an eyecrest. “What became of that?” “She wants me to stay close to Lexxic and observe how he runs things around here while she goes and talks with the rest of the elders.” “And...?” Rainbow inhaled. “That's it.” “... … ...” Seraphimus stared blankly at the mare. Wildcard slowly leaned in. He gestured: “That is all?” “I'm not exactly jazzed about it either. But...” She brushed her mane back. “They didn't chop my head off or call me a 'rogue' or 'infidel'.” She looked pointedly at Seraphimus. “So—as far as my track record with cultures go—I'd put this... second behind Val Roa!” A crooked smile, and she blinked. “Nowait. Third. The Pegasus Sex Crater went pretty well, all things considered.” “The pegasus what?” Ariel stepped in, eyes brimming with curiosity. Rainbow pushed her back. “Point is...” She looked at the griffons again. “...we should be glad that some time has been bought rather than no time at all.” Wildcard looked unimpressed. “Where exactly does that put us?” he gestured. “For the moment...?” Rainbow Dash blew out the side of her muzzle and gestured at the stallions still fighting to fix the tent. “...right friggin' here.” Seraphimus looked off, her charcoal brown eyes full of thought. “You come here... bearing noble truths and harmonic energy... and the matriarchal defenders of your moon goddess wish for you to spend time with their most vicious militant? A stallion whose blood and stature has been willfully deprived of the luxuries of the Tree?” “That... would seem to be the case.” The air about them filled with tender squeaks and high-pitched whimpering. Wildcard and Seraphimus looked towards the source of the pitiable noises. “Who in the Blight is this?” asked the latter. “Mmmmmm...” Shriike hunched down low on her haunches, wringing her fetlocks together. Two spectacled eyes peered bulbously about, fogging up from the brimming of unseen tears. “So... much... screaming...” She gulped. “And testosterone.” Her backhairs bristled slightly. “That's the worst kind of 'rone.” “This...” Rainbow Dash pointed at the clerk. “...is Shriike, Imperialist Clerk for the Upper Sanctum-thingy. Captain Xandraa—with the help of Faatail and Nat'rdo—arranged it for her to accompany us and take notes.” “Take notes?” Wildcard asked. “Well, she's gotta do something else besides screaming,” Ariel said. She folded her forelimbs and frowned. “She'd better do something else...” “Oh Mother oh Mother oh Mother—!” Shriike flinched from a stain on the floor. “Is that blood?” She adjusted her spectacles, then instantly calmed down. “Oh, praise the Moon, it's just water.” She blanched and panicked once again. “But where's it from?! What kind of rain falls out here?!?” Seraphimus squinted at Rainbow Dash. “She has no wings.” “And you have no hooves,” Rainbow retorted. “But you don't hear me complaining.” “Why would they wish a clerk—and not a guard—to accompany you?” “If they chose Xandraa or one of her finest, it might rub Lexxic the wrong way.” Seraphimus glanced at Shriike, then at the stallions around them. “So instead they've chosen to have a listening ear placed within Lexxic's company. With you as the proxy.” “I... guess that's one way of putting it?” Seraphimus stroked her beak. “Rainbow Dash...” She spoke in a low, confident tone. “If I may have a word with you...” Her hawkeyes sliced their way towards Shriike. “Away from prying ears... while we can still afford it.” Rainbow blinked at her. Eventually, she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” She whistled towards Wildcard. “Jordan. Ariel. Try to... make our new party appendix feel at home with... not being at home.” “Do I get a commission for this?” Ariel asked. “Girl—” “Right. Right.” Sighing, Ariel gave Shriike's flank a light shove. “Up and at 'em, greenie. You wanna broaden your horizons? Say hello to a friend of mine! His name's Wildcard!” “Huh?” Shriike snapped to the moment, greeting the Desperado walking towards her and extending a talon. “Oh! Uhm... greetings from... uhhh... the Tree of Mothers! My name is Shriike and—” She flinched hard from his outstretched limb. “Gaah! Why is your arm made of metal?!” She flinched even harder at the sight of his face. “Gaah! Why is your head made of bird?!?” “Relaaaaaax...” Ariel steered the shivering unicorn into a casual stroll with Wildcard shrugging alongside them. “He's a griffon! He doesn't eat pony meat! Not lately, that is. Say—Dubya—exactly how did you and Bard stay alive that one time you were both stranded for a month on the Aegis Archipelago?!” A metal middle talon kissed the starlight. “Wh-what does that gesture mean?” Shriike stammered. “It means he likes you! You're slightly less tasty now!” “Eee-eee-eee!” “Hahaha!” As their bodies and a flurry of angry talon-gestures drifted away... ...Rainbow and Seraphimus huddled in the far fringes of the encampment. Seraphimus drew in close, her charcoal eyes beholding a serious gaze. “Lexxic is not some mere pawn of the Matriarchal Council that employs him. He has grown into something larger... deadlier... emboldened by both power and desperation. If there was ever a leash that held him in place, it has drawn itself invisible—or threadbare at the very most. He dedicates himself to the cause of the Vigil by duty, but that honor is nebulous at best. His true commitment is to his brothers, and—as time appears to abide—there are far more of them than those who pretend to command them. He likes nothing more than to flaunt his authority and experience, and when his audience runs thin... I fear that so will the walls keeping him in check.” Rainbow Dash took a deep breath. “He's been filling your ears all this time, huh?” Her jaw clenched. “I'm almost sorry it wasn't me who stuck around with him instead of going up to freak out a bunch of old mares with Luna's faded moon voodoo.” “I do believe you were in the company of lesser strength, yes.” “You really think that?” “If I may posit a somewhat dramatic metaphor...” Seraphimus' eyes narrowed. “I see a lot of myself in Lexxic.” Rainbow blinked. “That is...” Seraphimus fumed, beak clenching for a bit before: “I see in Lexxic what I might have become... … ...had we successfully ended you at the World's End.” She gazed off. “And returned to Frostknife, steeled to fend off the windigoes with the strength and blood acquired.” “So it's like that, huh?” “Worse.” Seraphimus looked at Rainbow again. “Lexxic enjoys nothing more than to make shocking, grandiose statements of how he would ruthlessly deal with political and ethnic conflict. If he were in my place back in Rohbredden, he would have made a swift end to all of the midnighters and wyverns that he perceived as standing in the way of total victory and progress. If Chandler had lived...” Seraphimus slowly shook her head. “...he wouldn't have remained in power for long. Nothing can hold back that much righteous anger and hatred.” “And you...” Rainbow squinted. “...agree with him?” “In another life—one still clouded by a sycophantic belief in Verlaxion—I very easily could have. Even here and now... I must admit... I see the potential for efficiency in his harsh world-view.” Rainbow blinked. “But this is a different side of that world. One that's swiftly running out of time and resources. What's more... Lexxic is indeed a zealot—but to what, I haven't quite figured out.” “To himself?” “That much is obvious,” Seraphimus grunted. “But there's something more to it.” She stroked her beak in thought. “He possesses true and sincere admiration for his peers—his brothers. He's convinced that he's sacrificed a great deal for him, and I don't think that can be argued against... whether or not that's true.” “Truth makes all the difference—” “Not here, Rainbow Dash,” Seraphimus declared. “Not even remotely.” Her charcoal eyes hardened. “Here—it's all about passion... and solidarity. These were things not afforded to the armies of the Dark Vigil before, but Lexxic has given these Bloodwings something that they were never granted in nine centuries of prior campaigns. And that's an identity. They're willing to fight for that more than for any Moon Goddess who has ever lived. I don't think it's that big a stretch of the imagination to say that's far from what the Dream Council or their superiors had intended. But that's where Lexxic is at. That's where we're at.” Seraphimus pointed in the direction of Shriike and the others. “Now... it appears that the Matriarchs in charge have appointed a listening ear to accompany you and Lexxic—for reasons not fully explained.” “You're right,” Rainbow Dash said with a nod. “While it's nice that Nat'rdo and Faatail have welcomed me—they have left things stupidly vague.” “I think I'm starting to understand some of Lexxic's dire warnings...” “Dire warnings?” Rainbow cocked her head aside. “About what?” “The Council is using you, Rainbow Dash.” “Using me?” “To try to get a grip on Lexxic—or at least on how he thinks... how he exists.” Seraphimus shook her head. “They can't get any closer themselves... or else they refuse to. But you? You give them a bridge that they can't afford.” Rainbow shrugged. “Maybe it's their way of extending an olive branch.” “I would be more concerned with the fact that they can't bring themselves to extend it without you.” Rainbow Dash leaned back, rubbing her chin. “... … ...I never wanted to come here and insert myself in the middle of some stupid power struggle.” “And yet, here you are.” Seraphimus gestured. “And I don't think this will end in the right side winning. What you may need to ask yourself is...” Her eyes narrowed. “...which is the side that you need?” “And will it be the side that will help me?” “Indeed.” Rainbow Dash weathered a shuddering sigh, staring down at the ground. “I gotta find a way to save both sides.” A swallow. “Or at least... ensure the side that wins and helps me is the right choice all along... for the sarosians as well as for me.” Serpahimus uttered something resembling a snort. Rainbow's brow furrowed as she looked up at her. “What?” “This is not a place for optimism.” “Why not?” Seraphimus sighed, turning towards the rest of the encampment. “Perhaps I should have stayed back at that insufferable shanty town by the slime...” “Keep your beak up, Sera...” Rainbow rested a hoof on her shoulder. “Having you here is helping me think clearly!” “I've yet to be convinced...” “For once, can't we just... believe that fate smiles upon us?” Rainbow shrugged with a smirk. “The spotlight is ours! That means we can make the best of things! A change for the better! We carry the harmonic light of Penumbra, after all! Shouldn't that count for something?” She and Seraphimus trotted towards the rest of the party. “It's one thing to have proper foresight—seasoned with a sneeze of cynicism—but let's not doom and gloom it, huh? I mean, if Fate incarnate had a big invisible camera, the last thing she's gonna do is suddenly and spontaneously cut away from—” “Push!” Flynn's voice cracked, his horn glowing as he operated a drilling machine that chiseled away at a glittery cave wall. “Dammit, Big Show, PUSH!” “I... am... friggin' pushing!” Logan hollered. As his voice echoed through the chamber, the large sweating stallion could be seen anchoring his axe against an enormous boulder that was all that stood between the Heraldites and an adjacent chamber. “What's taking you so damned long, baldy?!” “I've almost got a full sample!” Flynn stammered, his metal eye focusing on a dimly-glowing meter set within the chassis of the drill. A translucent compartment filled with glittery minerals, and the drill vibrated at a higher frequency. “Just a few more minutes!” “M-minutes?!?!” Logan groaned and strained as something pushed against the boulder from the other side. Cracks and fissures formed in the rock as flashes of bio-luminescence intensified from beyond the fragile barrier he was holding. “Dammit, Flynn! Don't you think we've got enough of that crap?!” “Not until the meter is completely full!” Flynn panted. “If we return to Blobstain with any less, we won't have enough for the varnish! And her deal with the goblins won't pull through!” “For buck's sake!” Logan shouted over his buckling withers. “If I find out that this is all about that mare you keep making goo-goo eye at—” “Do you wanna be able to cross the Blob in a pinch or don't you?!?” “Yeah! With your ass as a rudder, ya goddess-damned simp!” “Will you shut up already?! I can't concentrate—!” The roars intensified. In a pale blur, Kepler glided in and perched atop the boulder Logan was pushing against. “Frriends!” The wyvern adjusted his spectacles and sputtered: “I brring discourraging news! The beast's mates appearr to have answerred its call! We arre soon to be outnumberred—” “Keps!” Logan hollered, buckling under the strain. “You stupid diet manticore! Get your paws off the boulder before—” It was too late. CRACK! The boulder split in two. Milliseconds later— P-POWWWWW! —a phalanx of blue bio-luminescent tentacles birthed through, each accompanied by razor-teethed maws that snapped and bit in every direction, filling the cave from top to bottom. CL-CL-CL-CLAKKKAAA! “My starrs and garrterrs—!” Kepler went flying in one direction. “Shiiiiiiit!” Logan went rolling in another. “I got it!” Flynn beamed at the glowing drill now filled with the glittery material. “Dudes! I—” He turned around, his ears drooping as he faced a wall of incoming jaws. “—awwwwww poop.” “Brrotherrs! Get down!” “Aaaaaaaaaaah!” “Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!!!” CRUNNNNNCH!