//------------------------------// // By Blood You're Ferried // Story: Ofolrodi // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash's eyes reflected throngs of glinting blades, blades, blades. Down in the arena beneath her, various weapons were being handed off to M'lywthaal'myn and his company of soldiers. All of this—while the shackled beast writhed and roared and hissed just a few meters away from them. Rainbow and her friends observed as the group parsed through what was available: spears, polearms, poleaxes, and even some swords. They were all bludgeons or cutting tools; no runic-charged apparatuses or projectile-based weapons could be seen among the aresnal. The “Cowardly Twelve” had to get intimate and dirty with this creature. There'd be no living up to their unflattering nickname tonight—which perhaps was the whole point of the ritual. “Do... they even stand a chance...?” Ariel remarked, blanching. “That remains to be seen,” Seraphimus stated. “We have yet to see the full arsenal of Bloodwing tactics on display.” “Of course they haven't got a chance,” Shriike muttered, waiting for the next statement to be issued from the arena below. “These nimrods' fate was sealed the moment they disappointed their mutant commander.” “He's still your commander as well,” Seraphimus said. She then turned to squint icily at the clerk. “Or is that Lyw'Malaak.” “Hmmf.” Shriike's nostrils flared. “I only answer to Captain Xandraa. I couldn't pretend to care about these... stallion politics.” “Sounds like their politics is your politics,” Ariel stated. “And if that isn't the case yet—it just may be soon.” “On what basis do you have to predict that, dr'ymsyllyp?” Shriike squinted back through her thick, thick glasses. “Are there lots of sarosians exercising their government where you're from? Hmmmm?” Ariel opened her muzzle to speak— “How about a little less squabbling and a little more observing?” Rainbow Dash said out loud. She turned to look at Shriike. “Stick to your recording.” Shriike shrugged and levitated her scroll at the ready. Rainbow gave Seraphimus and Ariel a dry, sideways glance. They remained silent, and the petite pegasus leaned closer to her friends. “Any thoughts...?” “That poor creature is in distress!” Fluttershy remarked. “Poor creature??” Rarity pointed at the writhing mass of limbs and chitinous barbs. “That monstrosity?!” Fluttershy pouted. “I seriously doubt it asked to partake in this horrible barbarism.” “I hate to say this, Fluttershy, but I think it's fate is sealed,” Twilight said. “Rainbow's simply in no place to rush in and try to have its well-being spared...” She turned to look warily at her anchor. “...as for the twelve soldiers—” “Just what can Dashie do?!?” Pinkie Pie squawked. “It'd be her against everybody!” “Pinkie's right,” Applejack said in a solid tone. “T'ain't the time for brash action.” Rainbow looked at the ghostly farm mare directly. “Is this whole stupid thing that's happening before us exactly what it looks like?” “Ya mean to ask is Lexxic executin' these stallions?” Applejack shrugged. “It's the same as always, Rainbow. I can't read him through all that dag-gum chaos metal.” “Yeah? And how about everypony else?” “Ya hear them yerself, sugarcube. They're screamin' for blood. Doesn't take a genius to tell what these yokels are hungerin' for.” Applejack slowly exhaled, gazing at the twelve soldiers with a thoughtful squint. “But this here company of soldiers...” “What about them?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Are they freaked out? Do they expect to die?” “They expect to fight—that's all I can tell. They're itchin' to tangle with this thang just as much as the rest of the arena full of sarosians thirsts for witnessin' it!” “How awful!” Rarity blanched. “Can anyone under this blasted Tree do things rationally?! Or peacefully?!” “You ask me, this is the closest thing to it,” Twilight said. “The Dark Vigil has functioned under rituals of physical contest for so many generations—I don't think they know of another way.” “Or perhaps they dun care to,” Applejack said, still gazing at the twelve. “Maybe it's... dumb guile, but I reckon they've got the confidence to take this big critter down.” She looked back at Rainbow. “That's why I dun think it's an execution... and why I'm not quite so worried about it.” “It is for the creature, though...” Fluttershy said with a mixed frown of sorrow and spite. “No pony society that kills out of sport deserves to have access to the Harmonic Prism.” Twilight sighed. “That may be so, Fluttershy. But the Bloodwings could still be Rainbow's only ticket to getting inside the Midnight Armory.” “Doesn't mean I have to like Lexxic or what he's doing here,” Fluttershy said without hesitation. Twilight bit her lip. She looked back at Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash was once again staring at the company of twelve—the Captain in particular. She watched as he stepped up to each of his fellow soldiers. Several words were exchanged under the constant roar of the rowdy crowd. She could tell that they were strategizing, with M'lywthaal'myn making several motions, moving soldiers into position, and deciding who received which weapon—presumably to perform separate tasks in the upcoming confrontation. As for the captain himself—he ultimately chose a heavy-bladed axe. It looked strong enough to lop tree trunks in the hooves of a capable warrior, but the grip was very short. If nothing else, it meant that the Captain had to get in the closest to the creature to inflict the necessary wounds. The choice was noble—and daunting—but unimaginably dangerous. As Rainbow observed this, she was slightly shaken by Lexxic's words—echoing across the coliseum: “The Spiked Stone Skulker!” Lexxic trotted a lengthy circle around both the combatants and the rune-bound beast. “Rogue murderer of the bleaks! It dines on Dihmers nightly! It ambushes roaming beasts of all sizes from its hidden earthen crevices! Even the medium-sized skulkers will scare off the strongest spawn of T'chyrym's burning flux!” He strolled closer to the front of the beast, aiming his helm towards the writhing maw and lashing beaks of the furious creature. “With a carapace as hard as steel and limbs that can shatter V'lym yln N'shydymma like they were glass chalices, it is a force to be reckoned with... a formidable foe worthy of fear, respect, and awe.” He turned and tilted his helm towards the encircling crowd above. “But we—my brothers—come from a far scarier place!” A roar of agreement rippled through the rowdy audience. Lexxic pumped a pale hoof in the air. “We exert dominance over our enemies! And where our strength is outmatched... our cruelty wins out! There is nothing in this universe... nothing living nor dead... that won't buckle to suffering!” Hisses. Hisses. Glinting fangs. Lexxic turned about, and the pale sheen of his helm reflected the many-many obsidian limbs of the struggling beast. “The Stone Skulker—as even the bloodcolts among us must know—produces a unique chemical compound from countless glands spread throughout its shelled body. But this is only when triggered by extreme duress... pain... and anger. This chemical is key... to providing the Dark Vigil's army... with the building blocks for medicine, anesthesia, and paralytic agents—all of which are priceless... for our brothers on the battlefield. Without that which we can extract from the few stone skulkers we're lucky enough to capture, our casualties have no chance of a full and healthy recovery from their wounds. Thus—to obtain what we need, we must render this stone skulker a hundred times the wrath and pain that it regularly unleashes upon its insipid prey.” The entire Hall of Honor rose in enthusiasm and passion as Lexxic finished his prelude to mayhem: “This is a task worthy of brave warriors... of those deserving their place in the Narrow... of those unafraid to give their lives for the support of our fellow brothers on the frontline.” The First Son of Nightmares turned to face the leader of the dozen Bloodcolts. “Captain M'lywthaal'myn...” His muzzle beneath the helm was a stern and rigid expression, completely devoid of any coyness or levity. “In invoking the rite of w'ynlppa lysm th'rym'lykk, you are being tasked with wounding, subjugating, and ultimately slaying this creature. You should be well-trained in the technicalities of chemical extraction. Only after every limb of the skulker has been lopped off—and its anguished screams rendered high to the heavens—will you be granted the authority to send its soul to the Pit. If you fail in this task—or if the creature's life ends prematurely—you will have forfeited any honor earned in this blood ritual.” The captain leaned on his axe. He nodded. “Ywm, Lexxy'kyn.” “You are being granted the rite of w'ynlppa lysm th'rym'lykk by blood,” Lexxic declared. “Blood that has yet to be restored with honor.” His helm tilted, glinting with the runic glow. “Perish before the end of combat—or suffer grievous injury—then your bodies shall not enjoy the same opportunity being granted to your souls. Only a healthy and solid victory will liberate you and your soldiers. Is this understood?” M'lywthaal'myn nodded again. Then—without hesitation—he threw his voice into the runes' amplification field: “Unbind our wings.” Azarias and Masser did double-takes. A brief hush of surprise rolled through the crowd. “If our bodies are being placed on the line, than my soldiers and I deserve full access to them.” M'lywthaal'myn's fearless eyeslits pierced into Lexxic from afar. “As we have and continue to serve in full honor to the Dark Vigil's cause.” Several guards in the arena exchanged contemplative glances. Azarias frowned. He marched over to bark at the brash captain— Lexxic blindly held a hoof up, forcing the Second to stop in place. Calm and dignified, he nodded towards the guards before motioning to the twelve soldiers. Several of M'lywthaal'myn's subordinates exhaled with relief as they felt their leathery wings being freed of the moonsilver restraints. Before this was even halfway finished, the captain spoke earnestly to the First Son. “We shall not fly away from this honorable task.” Lexxic gently nodded. “For your souls' sake, I would hope not.” Soon, all twelve stretched and flexed their wings. They jumped and shimmied, in place, shaking their stiff muscles loose while juggling the weight of their weapons. A low, bass chant rose in a tumult across the arena, sounding off from the base to the upper terraces. Rainbow Dash could feel it in her ribcage: the fight was just seconds away from popping off. “Second!” Lexxic stepped back from the center of the arena, standing upon the fringes beside Saalt, Spek'kl, and Hry'skym. “Call it! As commanded, Azarias lifted up on flapping wings. He didn't need the amplifier to throw his grand voice violently through the air. “Guards! Perimeter!” The armed contingent that had been holding the “Cowardly Twelve” at spear-point drew back. They lined themselves up around the grand circumference of the arena, aiming their weapons at the grotesque beast in the dead-center. “Clerics! Totems!” Pinkie, Rarity, and Fluttershy looked confused. Meanwhile, Applejack and Twilight pointed towards the unicorn sarosians with the shiny staves. Rainbow Dash leaned forward, squinting. There were far less of these “clerics” than the armed guards. Nevertheless, they spread out, forming a polygonal formation that enveloped everypony in the arena. As soon as they were situated, they stamped their poles into the ground and aimed their horns at the crystalline shapes hanging upon the tops of the staves. “H'lmynhr!” “H'lmynhr!” “H'lmynhr!” One by one, the poles lit up like Hearth's Warming Trees. Rainbow Dash's vision blurred, and in the next blink she spotted pale light shimmering up the staves. When the enchanted material made glowing contact with the crystalline solids—they brimmed with ruby-red energy. These fluctuated with wide ribboning bands of scarlet translucence that ultimately connected the totems to one another. Vrommmmmmmmmmmmmm!!! A crimson aura filled the entire Hold. Rainbow Dash sensed a static dance in her peripheral vision. She looked to her left—and was startled to see her ghostly friends shifting in and out of varying degrees of translucence. Twilight and the others saw Rainbow staring at them, but looked curious as to what was bothering their loyal anchor. Despite the visual interference in Rainbow's perception of the mares, they appeared no worse for wear. Nevertheless, Rainbow suffered an unsettling nausea rising up her system. Ariel and Wildcard noticed it—and were about to ask what was wrong— “Y'frymmal thysyyyyymm!!!” M'lywthaal'myn shouted. He beat the short pommel of the axe repeatedly against a front leg, and lunged forward into a battle stance. “W'ynlppa lysm thry'rym'lykkii hr'yaana thaan!” “Hr'vaanu thaan vyln w'ynlppanuuu!” Chiiiiing! All of his fellow soldiers took position, forming a frightening phalanx of blades and swords and staves at the ready. They faced off against the still-bound creature, shaking and writhing and ready for carnage. Their eyeslits twinkled thirstily in the encompassing crimson light from the totems. “W'ynlppa! W'ynlppa! W'ynlppa!” M'lywthaal'myn, taking point before the group, hollered while facing the creature. “Hym'sym thyll'm syl braas!” “HYUTTT!!!” they all echoed as one. Azarias' scarred ears shook from the outburst. He turned towards the sarosians still restraining the beast by chains. “Stable Masters... … …” The Bloodwings held their breaths, wings outstretched. Azarias' fang flashed. Muzzle open. “... … ...RELEASE!” With perfectly-practiced precision, the last bunch of guards let go of their chains while leaping away from the creature. During their winged ascent, they all simultaneously hollered into the aura of the glowing runes: “Y'HNYRR!!!” Clank! Clank! Cl-Clank! The runes dimmed, and immediately the chains and restraints snapped like gossamer ribbons in the limbs of the beast. The skulker suddenly lunged upwards, stretching to a dramatic height that was four times greater than Rainbow and her friends had expected. “HRESSSSSSHAAAAAAAA!!!” Its claws sprang outward, lashing at the air and casting shadow on the first few terraces of seats— “EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!” M'lywthaal'myn charged forward with a clapping wingburst, leading the charge. The rest of his soldiers dashed in immediately after, sharing in the same howling battle cry: “EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!” “EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!” “EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!” The twelve sarosians rushed the twelve limbs of the skulker. The enormous crustacean anticipated their charge with senses Rainbow couldn't imagine, and already two legs were sweeping out to meet the soldiers. Four Bloodwings took point, sliding on their knees and bracing themselves with their weapons held high. Cl-Cl-Clank! Sparks flew upon the first contact. Then shadows overwhelmed the initial line as a huge claw slammed towards their vulnerable bodies. “HTTTTT!!!” Three more soldiers took to the air, criss-crossing their weapons and meeting the claw's broadside. CLANGGGG!!! The pincer of the beast was deflected away from the four on the ground. Those blocking were pushed backwards, and they angled their wings in order to drag themselves slowly through the air. The beast's body had swung to one side in order to compensate for this exchange. This is where the remaining five rushed in. “Raaaaaaaaaugh!!!” M'lywthaal'myn and two other sarosians rushed the legs on the beast's left side. They swiped and hacked at the legs. Only two weapons made contact; flecks of chitinous armor peeled off, but otherwise the beast remained unaffected. Two more Bloodwings flew high, taking swipes at the other lashing limbs of the beast as they attempted to swat them away. The initial three fliers who had flown in—blocking—now found themselves resisting against nothing. The skulker's weight was shifting in the opposite direction. “Thaal'myn!” one shouted. “S'lymma sk'rylkym syln thym!” hollered another. “Ywm!” Down below, M'lywthaal'myn lifted up, hovering just inches above his comrades on the arena floor— HRESSSSSSSSSSHAAAAA-AAAA-AAAA!!! The beast's second claw came sailing down for the captain. CLANK!!! M'lywthaal'myn absorbed the blow into his axe, while also slamming downward. “Hrrrtttt!!!” THUDDD!!! The beast's left claw was knocked hard into the arena floor. It scraped a shallow trench across the dusty earth before grinding to a stop. Within seconds, three Bloodwings pounced on it, pressing their weight through their weapons as they pinned the pincer in place. “R'lymmyk, Thaal'myn!” one of the soldiers shouted. Sucking his breath in, M'lywthaal'myn galloped up the limb of the claw. Two spindly feelers stabbed at him in mid-sprint. He flapped his wings, twirled past their attack, and darted towards the central thorax of the beast with a savage swing of his axe. CH-CHIIIING!!! With splashes of orange-red fluid, the skulker lost both limbs that the captain had struck with the blade. The long spideresque appendages fell to the arena floor—where they flopped and writhed like lizard tails, saturated in bubbling liquid. The coliseum roared with cheers of bloodlust. Fluttershy covered her eyes. M'lywthaal'myn landed on the floor from his swift charge. He turned to shout a command to his soldiers— Hrrrrrrreshhhhh-AAAAAAAAAAA!!! Embroiled with pain and rage, the skulker heaved forward. Its right claw lifted up in a chitinous blur. “Aaaa-aaa-aaaugh!” Three soldiers were tossed skyward like tin toys. SWOOOOOOSH!!!! The skulker spun in a circle with alarming speed. Its claw sailed at the heads of every Bloodwing within reach. M'lywthaal'myn let out a high-pitched shriek. Hearing the warning, every soldier on the arena floor threw their bodies down flat. Th-Th-Thwiiiiiish! The beast's claw sailed over their skulls. Next came a forest of stabbing limbs. Th-Th-Th-Thump!!! Breathlessly, the sarosians rolled sideways and flew out from the beast's steps. Two sarosians stumbled—struggling to get free. Their comrades reached in and yanked them out just before their bodies could be impaled. HRESSSSH!!! The creature spun to a stop, aligning itself with the mass of soldiers. Despite having lost irreplaceable body parts, it remained relatively steady and focused. It was now ten limbs versus twelve sarosians. The blood pouring between them glinted with a sheen of starlight as the combatants squared off at a cautious distance. M'lywthaal'myn paced slowly around the fight, hollering and shouting over the shelled body of the beast. His soldiers obeyed what they could hear—slowly spreading until a full circle of sarosian might surround the beast. Rainbow noticed that those with the heavier blades had been paced evenly around the defensive perimeter. Seraphimus squinted, studying the tactics being used. Wildcard and Ariel looked similarly intrigued, while Shriike—her task currently pointless—watched with bright, mesmerized eyeslits. The skulker grumbled and gurgled, pinching and stabbing at the air in front of it like an angry lobster. As it bled and buckled, its remaining limbs occasionally pressed at the ground between its core body and the sarosians that surrounded it. Whatever consciousness empowered the beast was currently firing on all cylinders to ascertain a way to survive this situation. M'lywthaal'myn constantly darted his gaze back and forth between the thorax of the creature and its limbs. After the damage done, its left side was obviously the weakest. He took a measure of the way in which the bleeding beast's weight was shifting—and evidently found an opening. “H'raalym!” He hollered, gesturing at the monster's right side. “S'rymma wy'sym thryll! Sy'lypp! Sy'lypp!” “H'rymmy lym, Thaal'myn!” One soldier on the beast's right flank nodded. He hissed at two of his fellow comrades. Lifting up, all three sarosians with heavy blades flew high. “HRESSSSSSHAAAA!!!” Without hesitation, the skulker swung its right claw towards the three. “HTTT!” The three soldiers blocked with their blades criss-crossing—CLANKKK!!!—the impact knocked them backwards in the air with a shower of sparks. “Haaaaaaaugh!!!” Three more Bloodwings rushed the skulker's right side, aiming staves and polearms up high. Limbs of the skulker stabbed at them, but their lengthy weapons poked through the chitinous array, making contact with the animal's underbelly. The sarosians pressed with their weight, forcing the thorax upwards through sheer muscle. The skulker writhed, struggling to compensate. As a result, its left side—with two less limbs—started to buckle. “Thrym!!” M'lywthaal'myn pointed at the exposed opening. “W'lykka thrym!!!” Five sarosians rushed in, stabbing and swinging at what remained of the beast's right limbs. Clank! Thunk! Whack! Cl-Clang! Their blows struck lower—and weaker—than the captain's lucky charge from earlier. The skulker shook, writhed, then swiveled around with a maddening show of might. The sarosians on its right side were forced to duck and dive while its right claw flew low—WH-WHAMMM!!!—smacking hard into a pair of soldiers. “Aaaugh!” “Ooomf!” The coliseum roared as they saw two of the captain's soldiers fall back on their flanks. One managed to hop up and fly away. The other—evidently concussed—struggled prone on the ground. The skulker shifted its weight and flung its claw straight down at the last soldier. THUDDDD!!! The open pincer landed on the ground—miraculously sparing the sarosian's body with the space in between... a space that was about to snap close— “H'laak!” M'lywthaal'myn flew straight down, axe-first. “Hrnnnnghh!” CLANK! The pincer closed onto the frame of the axe—which wedged it open at the last second. “H'raaana!” the captain shouted. Three soldiers were already rushing in, grabbing their grounded buddy's body and dragging him away from— SNAPPP!!! —the pincer closed, shattering M'lywthaal'myn's blade to shrapnel bits. It had avoided doing the same to the dazed sarosian's spine by mere centimeters. As the captain and his subordinates pulled him out, a throng of limbs stabbed down—grazing another soldier's body. Sliiiink! “Eee-eee-eee-eee!” the bloodwing shouted, fresh blood pouring down his flank. The nearest ally helped him limp away, trailing crimson. Sneering, the captain whistled towards one of the soldiers on the perimeter. With a grunt, the sarosian tossed him a poleaxe. M'lywthaal'myn grabbed it mid-air, spun, and blocked two limbs coming down on him. Sneering through gritted teeth, the captain flapped his wings hard and harder, forcing the legs upwards and pushing the beast off-balance. “Rrrrr-rrr-rrrrghhh!” Naturally, the skulker aimed its left pincer next for the captain. But—FW-FW-FWOOOSH!—three bloodwings had flown in. Darting over the lunging claw, they landed on the beast's upper carapace and stabbed their weapons into the base joint of the offensive limb, digging into the meat and exposing the twitching muscle below. Just as the beast began to hiss—a signature of pain—they aimed their muzzles point blank into the exposed sinew of the beast and: “EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!” Ariel and Wildcard winced; even from such a distance the sound was ear-splitting. Seraphimus and Rainbow Dash craned their necks to see that—in fact—the carapace of the beast was forming a tributary of bloody cracks from the point of sonic punishment. The skulker buckled, its right claw swung back in an attempt to bat the three stallions away—but the muscles empowering it tore halfway through. The claw went limp. Around the same time, two more soldiers flew up and mounted the beast's backside. Their blades joined the first three. With a mix of prying and hacking— SPLORCH!!! —they managed to lop the claw free. Three soldiers bucked the dismembered weapon mid-air with combined grunts. Orange blood sprayed across the arena as—TH-THUDDD!—the claw tumbled to an awkward stop, its pincer lashing thoughtlessly at the perimeter of guards... making them step back and raise their weapons. The whole arena roared in a hungry cacophony. Masser's booming shouts rang the loudest, his tattooed muzzle beaming with enthusiasm. Saalt, Hry'skym, and Spek'kl jumped and cheered. Azarias remained hovering above the scene, surveying the battle with a brooding expression. Rainbow looked across the arena towards Lexxic. The First Son of Nightmares remained silent, still, patient. A calm, contemplative smile lingered beneath his muzzle. Rainbow focused once more on the fight. It was now nine limbs versus twelve soldiers—only two of whom were minimally injured thus far. She couldn't help but feel impressed by M'lywthaal'myn thus far, but there was still plenty of giant-death-crab-monster left to deal with. The skulker in question heaved and writhed from the damage it had suffered. It displayed an alarming amount of pain for an oversized crustacean—but this rang true with what Rainbow and her friends had learned about its hormonal glands. There was a slight shift in the hue of the blood bubbling from its scarred carapace. It morphed from a neon orange to an acidic yellow, and Rainbow could even detect a sour scent filling the air of the coliseum—growing more and more pungent by the morbid minute. No doubt the injuries being dealt by the captain and his company were accomplishing the supposed “goal” of the W'ynlppa lysm thy'rym'lykk. “M'wyynym syly'wym!” The captain shouted, pointing at the legs, belly, and remaining claw of the beast. With its right pincer arm removed, the bulk of the beast's weight hung on the side with less legs. The skulker noticeably shifted in a rotating fashion, leaning towards its weaker side as the one heavy claw snapped offensively at the combatants from afar. “S'ryamaar! Sr'wymsym lynnyl lykk lykk!” “Ywm!” Setting down his concussed brethren, a subordinate sarosian gestured to two more able-bodied warriors and took wing. Fw-Fw-Fwoosh! The three of them flew high, grazing the left side of the wounded beast. Predictably, the creature swung at them with its remaining pincer. SN-SNAP! In so doing, it threw its weight too hard to the left. The three remaining legs buckled and wobbled as its thorax dipped low. “Httt!” M'lywthaal'myn himself galloped straight towards the beast's carapace, gripping a blade lengthwise in his muzzle. “HRSSSSSSSH—!!!” The skulker swung its claw straight down at him. THUDDD!!! M'lywthaal'myn side-jumped the pincer as it landed into the ground. However—before it could lift back up—he dashed towards the thing, shoved the length of the blade between two seams of chitin, and twisted savagely perpendicular to the joint. CRKKKK!!! A gross snapping sound issued from somewhere within. Yellowing blood oozed out of the wounded seam, and—with a howl of pain—the beast lost its bearing. WHUMP!!! It slumped hard on its left side, the three remaining left legs falling slack on the arena floor and writhing. “It's... it's down...!” Ariel leaned forward. “It has to be!” She looked aside. “Right?” Seraphimus said nothing. Rainbow's ruby eyes darted left and right, observing the battle. “... … ...it's gonna turn over.” “Huh?” Shriike blinked, leaning forward from her seat. “Look at it! The big nimrod's down for the—” Just as she said this, all five legs along the skulker's right side pushed like machine springs. The air shifted as the beast sucked in an enormous breath. Its huge carapace teetered up and over. “... … …!!!” M'lywthaal'myn looked up to see a shadow spreading over him. “S'wynyk!” He yanked his blade free and scampered away—all the while shouting towards his airborne soldiers: “Wyn'ly nyk! Wyn'ly nyk! Hry'mymsym!” But it was too late for the flying trio to get the message. During their second flyover, they found themselves sailing into an upended wave of thrashing limbs. They shouted in dismay, darting left and right with flapping wings— TH-THUDDD! Two spider-like limbs smacked hard into respective Bloodwings. While their bodies went spiraling towards the ground, the other three flew up high, desperate to outrace the lashing throes of the legs— Sp-Splorch!!! One sharp limb ran straight through one pony's flank and came bursting out his opposite barrel. “Hrkkkk!!!” His eyes widened as he instantly vomited blood. The whole coliseum cheered. Rarity clasped hooves over her horrified muzzle while Pinkie and Twilight hugged each other, wide-eyed. “H'lyvaanan!” one of the flying Bloodwings shouted in despair. The skulker kept rolling its massive self over—even with the flailing sarosian still impaled on its limb. Once it was upside down, it used its bleeding pincer to steady itself and push upright. “... … …!” Sneering, M'lywthaal'myn turned and shouted at a fellow warrior through flashing fangs. “S'wynaamaal!” “Rymma, Thaal'myn!” A bleeding sarosian tossed him the one remaining broadaxe. “Httt!” M'lywthaal'myn caught it in mighty fetlocks and spread his wings. “Hrrrrrrghhhh—!!!” He skimmed the ground in determined flight, sailing straight towards the toppling beast... ...just as it shifted upright. It teetered sideways, struggling to form a defensive stance with the weight of a live sarosian still impaled on one of its right legs. “Aaaaaaaaaa—!” The Captain soared underneath the creature's left sight and came up its right, slashing at the leg that imprisoned his comrade. TH-THOPPP! A single axe-swing was all it took to slice the limb free. It toppled over like a tree, its mangled occupant writhing in agony. “Hry'saaaaaaaa!!!” M'lywthaal'myn hollered over his bloodstained shoulder. Four bloodwings were already flying up, bracing the leg and slowing its fall so that they could drag it—and their injured friend—away from the fight. Panting, M'lywthaal'myn turned back... and faced a muzzle-full of claw. SNAP!!! CLUNKKKK!!! He blocked the pincer with the thin of his blade—now clasped in the beast's grip. “HRSSSSSH!!!” With the upper hand, the skulker shook his bloodied arm left and right, trying to shake both the captain and his weapon loose. “HYUTTT!!!” Four other soldiers rushed in. They all gripped the captain and his blade. With their combined wing-power, they grunted and shoved against the might of the beast's claw. The air boomed rhythmically with the thirsty chants of the audience above and surrounding. Wildcard watched intently, his black goggles reflecting the ongoing struggle. It went on long enough that two of the soldiers helping the impaled sarosian returned to battle, attacking the remaining right legs with swords and poleaxes. Sparks flew and flecks of chitin peeled off. Finally—working together—the soldiers combined their attack on one joint and—CRKKK!—snapped the leg loose at the base. The entire weight of the skulker shifted—and so did the arm wrestling match it was having with the captain and his lackeys. “Guhhhh!” M'lywthaal'myn grunted, gnashing his teeth as he felt the group's collective weight being thrown off balance. “S'ryw'myl—!” He tried shouting... ...but it was too late. SNAPPP!! The leg gave way, and the skulker lunged sideways. It swung its claw with the bloodily gifted momentum, shaking the captain and the rest of his partners off with several repetitive waves. Once free of the sarosians, the beast swung the pincer blindly—opening and releasing the axe. SW-SW-SW-SWOOOSH! The glinting blade flew murderously into the crowd. Bloodings gasped and leapt out of the way— Thwppp! Azarias dove in and caught the weapon just meters before it could slice into the crowd. He hovered with the mangled weapon, squinting down at the ongoing battle. “Hahahah...” Lukaas smirked aside at the Sypher. “L'azarias'ym mry'sylaam sy'kyl thym sk'klyrk. Ywm?” With a high-pitched hiss through his voice box, Sypher pointed ardently at the playing field. All eyes fell on the battle as M'lywthaal'myn and his comrades—thrown across the arena—struggled to get up. Despite the multitude of grievous injuries suffered by the beast, it still lumbered upright before swinging its claw down at them. “HRESSSSSH!!!” One dazed bloodwing looked up from where he lay on the floor. Gasping in the shadow of the claw, he scampered away—SNAPPP!!!—only to have his right rear leg lopped off. “AAAAAAAAAA—!!!” “N'rymmsaal!” Another soldier shrieked, reaching a hoof out towards him—CRKKK!—that was crushed to bloody bits by a chitinous leg. “EEE-EEE-EEE!!” “Hah hah hah hah!” Hyggs guffawed, grinning aside at Bosonn. “That's what you get for sucking on Malaak's teats, ryk ryk!” “Hahahahaha!” Rainbow blinked at them, then glared down at the surmounting carnage. She breathed heavier and heavier, feeling cold and numb. Each inhale she took was filled with a grotesuqely sour stench as the tainted blood of the skalker outspilled that of the scattered sarosians attempting to end it. While a few of M'lywthaal'myn's soldiers were pulling their freshly-injured away from the melee—and two more managed to distract the beast with flying pole-stabs—the captain himself and two more able-bodied bloodwings rushed in from the flank. Between the three of them, they jointly carried one of the skulker's amputated limbs. While it still twitched in their grasp, they nevertheless improvised it as a giant staff, charging up and stabbing the object hard into the underbelly of the beast as the group collectively heaved upwards. “H'rsylmaaaaaaaa!!!” “Raaaaaaaaaugh!” “Eee-Eee-Eee-Eee!!!” Slowly—muscles rippling—they overcame the thrashing weight of the beast, toppling its massive self until it lay upside down once more, only now with less limbs to fix the matter. The beast nevertheless swatted sideways with its claw, smacking one of the lifters so hard that his body slid off and collided with the perimeter of guards along the periphery. “N'lykk! N'lykk!” M'lywthaal'myn spat blood, mounting the belly of the beast and hacking away at its undershell. “W'ynlppa!!!!” “W'YNLPPAAAAA!!!” Every sarosian who could still fight rushed on top of the upended animal like ants to a morsel of raw meat. Even the soldier batted away seconds earlier and the one who was nearly-concussed minutes ago limped in to join the fray. All dignified strategy flew out the window as the veterans of the Dark Vigil—seething and seeing red—hacked and stabbed and chopped away at the shrieking monster from every angle possible. Its remaining legs flew off in pieces, and the upper stalk of its last claw imploded from the punishment... so that the rest of it peeled loose from the bleeding husk like a rotted banana. “W'YNLPPA!” “W'YNLPPA!” “W'YNLPPA!” chanted the bloodthirsty crowd. Fluttershy by now had her tear-stained face buried in Rarity's chest. The ghostly fashionista held her, patting the mare's shoulder as she watched the gore-fest below with a disgusted expression. Twilight and Pinkie grimaced and blocked their eyesight with their hooves. Meanwhile, Applejack—a sweaty mess of a ghost—nevertheless kept her focus on Rainbow Dash. “... … ...” Rainbow Dash forced herself to remain dead-still. All the while, her fetlocks tightly-gripped the wooden edge of the seating area... forming tiny cracks in the natural surface. This little detail was reflected in the observing eyes of a silent griffon seated beside the mare. Minutes into the bludgeoning... the bleeding... the chanting... “Hr-rrrr-rrrshhhh-hhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeuckkkkkk....!!” ...the skulker's breaths had grown labored and raspy. The only limbs that remained were tiny stubs—wriggling and stirring until a hacking sarosian blade dug it out of its pulpy roots. The yellow fluid pouring out of its many-many wounds had grown translucent and gray, bubbling with a chemical reaction that filled the air of Honor Hold with an ammonia-like scent. Soon, all that moved was the trifold break protruding in and out of its gummy maw of a mouth. This—the captain and his last remaining soldiers approached. They carried with them one of the skulker's own legs—the sharpest one they found since dismembering it. Forming a line with M'lywthaal'myn at the very front, they aimed the sharped hook foot at the gasping mouth and—SCHLIIIIIIIIINK!!!—shoved it all the way down the beast's throat... up to the second joint. “Hrkkkkl-kkklkk-lkkskkktnkkkktsstttttrkkkrrftttt!!!” The beast gurgled and spat, its body shaking... jolting... and lying still. But the sarosians weren't done. Not yet. Four of them—the captain included—mounted the upended carapace, formed a ring, and—“EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!”—launched a high pitched scream into its skewered front orifice. A powerful wave of sonic energy rippled into the heart of the beast. SPLKKKK!!! Its carapace burst from within like a boil, and steaming puddles of viscera poured out of the many-many fissures in its chitinous body. The air grew rank with death and bowel, and the fight was done. Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie braved separate looks at the brutal aftermath below. It was the latter of the two who blinked and quipped: “Is it over...?” At first, Rainbow questioned why Pinkie would ask such a thing. But then she realized that the coliseum full of sarosians had not yet finished cheering. Sure enough, as the raw seconds bubbled on, something... happened down below. Twilight pointed, making sure that Rainbow Dash saw. A translucent haze of ruby light raised from the mass of the slaughtered skulker. It roughly approximated the size and shape of the battered beast. It functioned momentarily like early morning mist, hovering slowly to a stop within the neck of the arena. Rainbow expected the cloud to sail down into the earth like all the haunting phenomena witnessed on the Dark Side previous. Instead, the mist narrowed into a spiraling ribbon of bright crimson light that shot hard to the side. Rainbow's head swiftly swiveled in her effort to observe it. She and the rest of her friends watched as the band of blood-colored luminescence “poured” into one of the many totems that surrounded the perimeter of the arena. The sarosian “clerics” holding the staves steadied them with their unicorn magic. Soon it became clear why: every staff shook as the light that issued from the creature joined the circular stream of rotating ruby energy, bolting from totem to totem to totem in a blinding fashion until the stream formed a nearly-opaque ring of red... … ...then dissipated. In the haze's absence, Rainbow saw several specks of light pulsating from the crystalline shapes clinging to the tops of the staves. Each light flickered in a pair—set deep within hollow sockets. If there was any lingering doubt that these objects were once the skulls of crystal ponies, it had all faded in Rainbow's mind at that instance. She looked to her ghostly friends and was startled to see them fading in and out—briefly—before re-materializing in their usual phantom forms. They also took note of the interference, but before the mares or her anchor could comment on the matter— “What... … …??” It was Shriike's voice. Her muzzle twisted with confusion as she gawked at the air where the light had manifested and threaded itself away. A final wave of cheers tickled her leafy ears before settling down—so that Rainbow could hear her next mumbling words: “What in Nightmare Moon's was that??” Wildcard and Ariel gave the clerk double-takes. Seraphimus's headcrest furrowed. “You don't see much death up in Gibbous Sanctum... do you?” Shriike bit her bottom lip, but received a nudge from the former commander. Obediently, she lifted her pen and scroll. Rainbow Dash looked down into the arena to see what the Imperialist mare was prepared to record: Lexxic, Azarias, and Masser slowly approached M'lywthaal'myn. The captain—along with what remained of his company—were huddled around their wounded companions. For the most part—the group crowded around the poor sarosian who had been skewered by the giant leg of the skulker. He barely twitched, his muzzle hanging open as he gazed off in a thousand-mile-stare. Presently—a few bloodstained warriors were quickly hacking and sawing at the excess lengths of the shoot-like body part impaling him. Another soldier squatted close to the casualty, murmuring words of comfort into his ear while holding back tears. Within seconds, the Bloodwings shortened the offensive object, but kept themselves from removing it entirely. M'lywthaal'myn seethed and seethed where he stood. He took survey of the impaled soldier, the one whose front hoof had been smashed to a pulp, and the wailing specimen who had lost his rear leg entirely. Aside from them, a least two other soldiers were bleeding terribly and another still reeled from the head injury he endured. As he contemplated the situation, the pale glow of five levitating daggers pulsed in his peripheral. The captain's ears drooped, but he nevertheless spun to face the First Son with an earnest expression. “Please...” His voice lifted to the heights of Honor Hold as Lexxic and the levitating runestones clinging to the daggers came closer. “My soldiers need medical aid.” He pointed at those with egregious limb injuries. “They're bleeding out.” He gestured towards the impaled Bloodwing. “There may even be time to save him. The...” He turned towards the carcass of the skulker. Already, a group of unicorns had been ushered into the arena to collect and drain as much of the bubbling fluids from the slaughter as possible. “...the skulker's supply. Surely—it is like a new harvest! Please, you must spare some for my company. Did they not give their all to assure the Vigil would be resupplied??” Lexxic gazed at him with an expressionless muzzle. The crowd went into a hush above as he quietly breathed past the amplification aura: “Step aside, captain.” “... … …?!” M'lywthaal'myn looked incredulously at Lexxic and his chief companions. The First Son's gaze was impossible to discern, but the captain saw Azarias and Masser looking at his injured Bloodwings. “They... have fought honorably. They can recover from these wounds—” “Of that, there is no dispute—“ “Then repay their courage with further service!” M'lywthaal'myn gestured at those soaking in their own blood. His fangs flashed. “Even if some can't fight like they used to, they can still support the cause here!” His brow furrowed. “We have achieved victory in the W'ynlppa lysm thry'rym'lykk!! We deserve—” “—to be judged accordingly.” Lexxic's voice somehow sounded quieter than his, despite the same amplification spell. He calmly continued: “You knew the rules when you agreed to take up this honor, Captain. Fear not. Those with grievous injuries will still find their path to the Narrow.” M'lywthaal'myn gritted his teeth. He seethed and shook and— “Y-ywm, Thaal'myn...” Sputtered a voice from behind. The Captain turned to look. One of the soldiers shivered on the floor, clutching what remained of his pulverized front hoof. He gnashed his teeth to speak in a dignified tone: “It's b-been an honor, serving you...” He looked across the way, exchanging pained looks with the casualty who had lost his leg. “If we m-must go to the Narrow... s-send us sw-swiftly...” The other sarosian hadn't the strength to summon a voice. He merely clenched his eyes shut and shook in unbearable pain as his comrades stood close by. Up in the seats, Rainbow Dash sensed Applejack stirring beside her. “Uh oh...” The ghostly farm mare's pupils shrank. Rainbow threw her a look. “What?” She sat up straight. “What is it?” “Erm...” Applejack gulped. “Remember what I said earlier about this here shindig not bein' an execution?” “Yeah... … …???” Applejack looked straight at her anchor. “... … ...reckon the winds have shifted.” Rainbow looked nervously at the scene below. She bit her lip. “What's... going on?” Ariel asked. “Isn't it obvious?” Seraphimus droned. “No! Not all of us are clairvoyant death pelicans like you! Fess up!” Wildcard coldly gestured something. Ariel's breath sucked in as she “read” the Desperado. “Friggin' Hell...” She looked towards Rainbow Dash. “...after all that, they're just gonna kill em?” “Not all of them,” Applejack said. “Not all of them,” Rainbow Dash muttered, squinting at the situation unfolding below. “Remember what Lexxic said before the ritual? About those who suffer injuries?” “But... b-but that's stupid!” Ariel gawked at Shriike. “Don't you agree?” “Don't look at me,” the clerk muttered, concentrating on what she was writing. “I don't make the rules; just record them.” Wildcard whistled. Leaning in towards Rainbow and Ariel, he talon-signed a flurry of ideas— Thwpp! Seraphimus' talon gripped his metal wrist. “Don't...” She glared. “...encourage them, Jordan.” She turned to frown at Rainbow and Ariel. “We must not interfere.” “Even if it means saving lives?!” Ariel gestured. “I mean pony lives—” “It's no different than with the changeling and the skulker—” Seraphimus retorted. “I can't believe we're just gonna let these brave dudes get wasted!” Ariel faced Rainbow. “Are these the kind of sociopaths you want to team up with to get inside the Midnight Armory?!” Rainbow's jaw remained clenched. That numb, cold feeling lingered in her chest. Like the frost that lingered on every surface of Starkiss. “Rainbow?!?” Ariel whispered. Rainbow hesitated to respond— “Wait...” Applejack pointed. “...somethang's... shifting...” Sure enough, down below, M'lywthaal'myn had been pacing back and forth between Lexxic and his wounded company. His head hung heavy—with purpose—and when he finally moved towards Lexxic, Masser and Azarias jolted forward as if to block an attack. Instead, M'lywthaal'myn spoke breathily towards the First Son: “What if I was to offer myself... my life instead of theirs.” “Ryk ryk...” Azarias spat, looking up and down. “You are not injured—” Lexxic held up his hoof. The Second silenced, giving air for the Commander of the Dark Vigil to reply: “That depends, captain.” M'lywthaal'myn's velvety brow furrowed. “On what?” Lexxic slowly lowered his hoof. His pale helm reflected the vague color of the captain's body. “On whether or not you stand to be cleansed of a greatly dishonorable deed that needs to be righted—outside the cleansing power of the W'ynlppa lysm thr'rym'lykk. Then... and only then... would the valor of Saros sustain no reason for the wounded to be ferried to the Narrow... beyond the worth of their spent blood on this night.” The captain stared at Lexxic, trembling. Slowly, his ears drooped. He turned around and gave his soldiers a long and proud look. Then—exhaling slowly—he ceased trembling and faced Lexxic once more. He spread all four of his legs apart and bowed his head low. Wordless, Lexxic levitated the runestones closer to him. Rainbow already had her ear trained to the exchange at hoof. “I, M'lywthaal'myn, Captain of Second Assault Wing of Third Root, have failed in my duties to the cause of the Dark Vigil.” A resounding roar of commotion issued after this phrase was uttered. The crowd almost immediately went silent as he continued: “I brought my soldiers to the front—fully knowledgeable of the Bloodwing offensive, as strategized by Supreme Command. Despite the top order given to me to purge the hives of the Outer Brinks, I followed the lesser command given by Lyw'Malaak of Third Root to retreat. This was... a-an act of cowardice on my part, and I now live with the knowledge of the multiple encampments as well as hundreds of souls consumed by the Flux's counter-offensive... due to my failure to follow the Bloodwing pursuit.” The terraces thundered with thousands upon thousands of pounding hooves. Ariel grimaced. She flashed Rainbow another anxious look. Rainbow Dash remained seated. Gripping the edge of the platform. Numb as stone. M'lywthaal'myn looked up at the Commander of the Dark Vigil. “Only by blood can I now be cleansed... and only by the strength of the honorable... can my body be consumed and my spirit sent to the Narrow.” His eyeslits narrowed. “I entreat the spirit of nightmares...” A hush fell over the arena. Eventually, Lexxic held his hoof out, gracing the captain's withers. “The First Son of Nightmares hears your plea.” His lips curved softly beneath the pale plate. “You shall be sent.” Masser and Azarias stood tall and emotionless. The captain's soldiers hung their heads. M'lywthaal'myn managed a faint smile. “Thank you, brother.” Lexxic caressed his ear... his chin... then withdrew. Meanwhile, his daggers—THW-THW-THW-THWIFFFFT!!! Faster than a blink, they had flown through each of the captain's legs, shattering his knees to bloody pulps. With a sustained grunt, M'lywthaal'myn fell like a slab of meat to his trembling belly. Rarity and Fluttershy gasped. Pinkie and Twilight looked—wide eyed—back and forth between Rainbow and the sight below. Applejack slowly tilted the brim of her hat over her freckled face. That was the one thing that chilled Rainbow. She clenched her teeth. Bathed in a growing puddle of his own blood, M'lywthaal'myn coughed... sputtered... and lifted his grimacing muzzle. Lexxic stepped away before the fluid could reach his hooves. He paused—glanced at the captain—then nodded his helm towards the soldiers behind him. “You may have the honor of giving them one last command.” That issued, the First Son trotted off. Heaving, M'lywthaal'myn—with much agonized effort—turned his head back towards his soldiers. Those who could were already hobbling towards him, forming a circle. “My br-brothers...” He closed his eyes, taking the deepest breath of his life. “...feed.” The hair on the back of Rainbow's neck stood up as she saw the captain's subordinates closing in from all sides. Fangs glinted in the ruby light of the surrounding totems. “Oh my gosh...!” Twilight Sparkle pulled at her ghostly face muscles. “Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh—!” “Guysss?!” Pinkie' entire muzzle contorted into a slow grimace. “I think Mumblecore is on the menuuuuu!” “Are they going to do what I think th-they're going to do?!” Ariel stammered. Rainbow Dash looked at her. She looked at her friends. She looked at the next page of the holocaust unfolding below. “Rainbow—” Seraphimus hissed. Rainbow's nostrils flared. “... … …buck it.” She climbed up onto the edge of the terrace, spread her wings— “Rainbow Dash!” Seraphimus reached out for her. “Don't—!” FWOOOOSH!!! In a prismatic streak, Rainbow leapt off the balcony and straight towards the mess below. She angled her body with hooves forward, hoping to outrace the horror. She saw all of the soldiers leaning in, their razor-sharp teeth encroaching upon the captain's body from all sides. And then— Red on yellow eyes. “Whoopsidoodle!” Discord's smirk sailed into her entire vision. “Bold move there, Sparky~!” “Guhhh—!” Rainbow's eyes rolled back, flickering. Her world spun like a bottle of froth, and she dropped like a rock—sailing into everything and nothing. WHUDDDD!!! Rainbow's body slammed hard into the ground of the arena. She rolled and tumbled for several meters, splashing through at least two puddles of still-warm blood. At last, her bruised body came to rest against a loose chunk of torn skulker carapace. Her ears echoed. Strange noises. Gasps. Hisses. Violent shrieks. It all spun around her numb cranium in a sonic soup of chaos. When—at long last—the madness ended, she blinked towards a dim night sky far above, set within the circular keyhole frame of the heights of Honor Hall stretching all around her. The dizziness had dissipated just as quickly as it began, and she found she could sit up. It was with good timing, too. Ariel and Wildcard had flown down by her side, grasping her withers with a tight grip. “Rainbow!” Ariel hissed, brushing her bangs back and looking at her face to face. “Speak to us! Say something!” “Grnnghhh...” Rainbow shook her head, eyes struggling to come back into focus. “Just... essay...” Wildcard was snapping his natural talon fingers repeatedly, attempting to register her reaction. “I'm fine... I'm fine... did... did they...?” Just as she said this, she sensed a streak of ruby light soaring overhead. Her ears drooped and she watched with a forlorn expression as the crimson haze flew into the ring of totems, ribboning into a circle of light before dissipating—replaced by the pinpricks of otherworldly glow set within the crystal skulls. “Awwww Luna poop.” Wildcard frowned, gesturing: “Really? Pouring salt in?” Rainbow looked over her shoulder. She saw six or seven soldiers huddled in a carnivorous circle where M'lywthaal'myn's corpse was. The sounds of ripping flesh and crackling bone hovered over the somber feast. “Just like that, huh?” Rainbow rubbed her head, forcing herself to look away from the horrid show. “I thought I just might be fast enough.” “But you are fast enough!” Ariel winced. “What happened?” “Something just... dr-dropped me like an anvil...” Rainbow kicked at the earth between Ariel and Wildcard. “Dang it! It's Lexxic! It has to be! The moment I got close to him, I—” Fwooosh! Seraphimus landed violently, shoving Ariel and Wildcard away with her wings. “Rainbow!” she thundered. “Look what you did!” “Dang it, Sera...” Rainbow struggled to get up. “Mrmfff... now's not the friggin' time to lecture me on-” “No...!” Seraphimus pointed towards the other end of the arena. “...I mean look!” “... … …?” Rainbow Dash, still collapsed on the ground, looked over... ...and saw Lexxic also collapsed on the ground, struggling to get up with the help of Masser and Azarias. Many of the nearby guards and clerics looked upon the First Son with legitimate surprise and dismay at his inexplicably feeble condition. What's more, all five of the Commander's daggers lay limp and inert on the arena floor, still stained with the captain's blood. Rainbow blinked multiple times. “... … ...huh.” “Ready yourselves...” Seraphimus stood up alongside an alert and steady Wildcard. The griffons' claws glinted in the ruby light. “...retribution is surely in order.” Eventually, Lexxic managed to stand up—still hobbling noticeably. “Brother?! Brother!!” Masser was breathless, wide-eyed. His muzzle hung agape with boundless concern. “What ails you?!” “It's... it's...” Lexxic stammered, his voice hoarse. He had trouble lifting his head—as if for a brief moment in time the weight of his helm truly overwhelmed him. With smooth grace, he strengthened himself into a strong stance, breathing steadily. “Fear not, Second. I... I simply must b-bathe...” He made a hobbling step towards the nearest entrance to the lower arena. “...it's b-been so long...” “But... I-I don't understand!” Masser looked close to hyperventilating, despite all his strength and menace. “Wh-what happened just now?!” “What else?!” Azarias could be heard hissing. His head pivoted to face the Penumbrans, and a flash of fangs accompanied his next words: “It was her.” With flapping wings, he lifted up. “Brothers! Quick! Rain vengeance upon that pretend avatar of—!!” “Second...” Lexxic—leaning against Masser—raised a hoof towards him. “Cease—” “I refuse to tolerate any more of her banal affronts on your—” “L'AZARIAS'YM!!!” His outburst shook through the nervous hush of the coliseum. Anchored in place, the scarred Second stared down at him—visibly shaking in anger. Lexxic breathed and breathed. “You are my most valued brother and I value your strength and commitment beyond all measure,” he spoke calmly—barely audible from such a distance. The First Son's muzzle tightened beneath the helm. “Do as I command.” “... … ...” “No harm shall come to her.” Lexxic sucked in his breath, turned towards the exit, and strode proudly away on all fours. Masser fidgeted, glancing at the daggers on the ground. “Brother. Your—” Just as he spoke, the projectiles lifted one by one. Carried by a dim and pale glow, they floated limply towards Lexxic before lodging—one by one—into the five notches of his helm. Soon, he vanished into the shadows beyond the surface of Honor Hold. “Mrnnfffhggg...” Azarias glared angrily at Rainbow and her companions. Finally—with a blur of leather wings—he shot down into the exit, presumably to escort Lexxic to his unseen destination. This left Masser squirming awkwardly in the arena. He looked up towards the stands, shrugging wildly. “I... uhm...” He reached down, grasped one of the enchanted runes, and spoke into its crackling aura: “The... uh... our brother... the First Son... he... he—” Sw-Swooosh! Sypher and Lukaas swooped down, the latter of who immediately yanked the runestone from the Third's grasp and cleared his throat. “Ah-ah-ahem...” Lukaas spoke towards the circular crowd of blinking Bloodwings above. “Our Supreme Commander—the First Son—is quite moved by the honorable sacrifice of the Captain from the Third Root, and must retire for the evening! In many ways, M'lywthaal'myn has echoed the courage of Lexxy'kyn. Thus, his cowardice has been turned to righteousness—fit for the consumption of his redeemed brothers—and by blood shall he be ferried to the Narrow, where we will all commune once again with Nightmares.” Sypher kept a steely-eyed glare trained on those in and above the arena. He gestured towards the clerics—who “disassembled” the enchanted circle and marched off with the glowing totems in their grasp. As the guards and servants left the foundation of Honor Hold—leaving only those tasked with excavating fluids from the skulker—Lukaas smiled and saluted the crowd above. “Brothers—honorable Bloodwings of all flight—you are dismissed! May we all live to die another day!” While a nervous clamor still lingered in the air, the denizens in attendance nevertheless followed Lukaas' words. Slowly, milling and fidgeting, they emptied the seats high above Rainbow and her friends. In the meantime, Lukaas dropped the runestone and rushed towards Masser in a fit of frustration. The two chattered with indiscernible moonwhinny while Sypher stood guard, glaring at Rainbow and her attempts to ascertain the situation. It wasn't until a few seconds into this awkward moment that Rainbow realized Twilight and the rest of her friends had rematerialized all around her. “Rainbow...” Twilight hovered close. “...you saw what happened, right?” “Lexxic, just now...?!” Rarity exclaimed. “I... I-I think I felt it...” Rainbow rubbed her head. “The moment I flew in...” “You collapsed like a rock!” Pinkie exclaimed. “T'ain't the point!” Applejack gestured. “Lexxic conk'd out too!” “Are we sure about that?!” Pinkie blinked at her. “Could have just been a batty coinkydink!” Applejack's eyes thinned. “What do yer Pinkie Senses tell you?” Pinkie's ghostly nose wriggled. “Huh... you have a good point...” “Can we pl-please get away from th-this place?” Fluttershy squeaked, “flying” above the gore-filled arena. “We will, Fluttershy. I promise. But first...” Twilight looked at their anchor. “It's all coming together now, isn't it?” “You can't get anywhere near Lexxic,” Applejack said. “But...” Rainbow finally stood up with the help of Ariel. “...he can't get anywhere near me either.” “Having... some kind of an epiphany?” Ariel blinked. “I hope it's not awful.” “Hrmmf. Wrong A-Word.” Rainbow then took one last look at the bloody mess surrounding her. “Tch...” Her ears drooped. “Th-then again... maybe it's right-on-the-money, for once.”