One of my thralls had died. It wasn't new to me, hundreds of my thralls had died before. This time though, was different. The thralls acted more alive than before, since this world's ambient magic began to corrupt them, they were smarter, had more personality, and I had somehow gotten one to kill itself.
Staring back into the endless abyss of floating farms, he remembered the thralls from his time at the university. "You could throw a thrall into a volcano, and assuming it didn't die, it would come back out completely unconcerned with it's own well being. " I said to myself in a low whisper.
I narrowed my eyes at the farms and began to gather magic in my horn and heart. I can't truly stop them from simply doing what they want, they may call me master, but the second they decide to stop obeying me, they become free. Assuming they can decide to just stop obeying me. Thralls back home couldn't, but that didn't mean much anymore.
"Master must be defended." Those were that treant's last words. A play on my command when I made the first treants, Defend my home? When I awoke from my headache, my twenty treants turned into roughly thirty thousand, and now they were running low on food. Point being, if they decide that conjuring millions is the best way to 'defend' me and my home, would they even listen to me if I told them not to conjure any more?
These caverns go on for miles, stretching so far, it would take days to even reach the end. It isn't like there wouldn't be enough room for them. With my magic on the farm, the food scarcity would no longer be an issue. I don't really want to watch my treants die off by the thousands, the very image of just one treant dying nearly makes me want to lose my lunch.
My horn grows brighter as small wisps of what appears to be butterflies begin flying around it in green and blue hues.
Overseer Birch walked to the private baths deep in thought. Despite being merely another thrall to the master, master saw something in him when he gave him his name. Birch, he had called him, and since he was the only one given a name, he took to his role as highest of the thralls as was befitting master's will. He was entrusted with keeping all of the thralls in line, relaying master's orders, and ensuring that master is kept safe. Here though, were two ponies, the only two ponies Birch had ever met besides master. He tries his best to keep master safe, but how could he defend the master if he didn't know anything about him or his species?
As per his instructions, the door to the private baths were heavily guarded and the stone door was locked magically.
"The two ponies await you inside, Overseer." One of the guards said.
"Thank you. Once I enter, two of you head to the kitchens and tell them to double the amount of food they plan serving to the ponies." I said before unlocking the door and stepping inside the private bath.
A bright, shining rainbow radiated off of my body as I continued to amass magic. It would take a great deal of power to enhance all these farms, far more than I had ever held, but I was eager to try nonetheless.
WIth my magic so bountiful, I could feel the ironwood trees below me, billions of them in rows. I couldn't know how many of these would be given life, or how many would make for building material, and even though I hadn't checked my store rooms in a few days, I was certain my supply of lumber was quite high.
I sighed audibly, alerting me to something being wrong as I heard my voice. "Wha.." The sound repeated over a thousand times over in a thousand different voices. "What dreadful curse befalls me now? Life comes from the heart, not the throat." Again, thousands of voices followed me in a choir.
"I have spent years in study, research, and experimentation with life magic. Even going as far as having caused life magic itself to form from it's baser components of fire and lightning. In all books that mention me and my crimes I am referred to as master of life! Though it appears, not even I can claim to know all things related to life magic." The magic surrounding me grew as my eyes took on a forest green color, I did not know what was happening entirely, but I would face it regardless.
Birch could feel the master's presence all around him and could feel the cavern bending to his will. He smiled warmly and knew that he was doing a good job. The ponies however, looked frightened.
"Don't be afraid, ponies, he is a wise and kind master." Birch said as he picked up the golden furred earth pony.
It hit the ponies at once, that the tree in front of them wasn't this 'master'. "I thought you were referring to yourself in the third person before, but, you're not the master, are you?"
Birch grabbed a bar of soap and began scrubbing the pony down gently. The mare blushed and said, "Uh, I can wash myself, y'know. I promise not to try and run."
"You cannot run, even together you cannot open the door." Birch replied, getting behind the pony's ears. "Besides, I need practice."
"Practice? For taking a bath? I didn't think trees needed to bathe." She said before closing her eyes as Birch began washing her mane while giving her scalp a massage.
"Just in case the master requires one." Birch noticed the smile on her face as he massaged her scalp as if it was Sugar Hoof's. "Is this a pleasant experience, pony?"
"Please, call me Goldie. And yes, it's very nice, I wouldn't have expected wooden claws to be so good for a massage."
"The rest of you needs massaged also." Birch said as he began to work on her torso. "You were that mare who cried out for t—." He paused, catching himself. "That small pony we took away last night."
"Uh-huh." Said the mare as her tongue lolled out of her head as her aching hooves were thoroughly washed and rubbed.
"Why did you care for him?" Birch said, stopping the massage.
The mare looked back, wishing the massage would continue, but remembering her being both a slave and a prisoner. "He's just a new born. What mare wouldn't be worried about a baby being thrown into a cage and carried off by talking trees?"
Birch thought of this for a moment. Master was older than every treant here, including himself. Come to think of it, Birch didn't actually know much about the master. Master is what all thralls call their summoner, and Sugar Hoof was a fake name he used for that town north of here. Who even is Master?
"How old would you say that colt is?" Birch said in a low voice.
"He couldn't have been any older than two years old, and even that might be too old." Said the mare, a look of worry on her face. "Where exactly is that colt anyway?" She remembered herself and asked shakily, "What do you plan on doing with all of us?"
Birch began massaging Goldie's body again, ensuring that every inch of her was clean for whatever the master planned.
The master has ordered you all be given a hot bath and a big breakfast, after that, I don't know what his plans for you are.
The force of my magic now has seeped into my surroundings, without even casting the spell, I have enhanced multiple farm layers and thoroughly converted the rocky cavern surrounding the farms into a lush and green cave, filled with plant life and green grass.
In a single jolt, the magic surrounding me was forced into my horn as it grew brighter than a lighthouse on a stormy night before I lowered my head and aggressively consumed the farm land below me in life magic. Row upon row and layer upon layer the farms surpassed the neon green I had grown accustomed to and branched off all throughout the underground caverns, filling it with more of the plant life. Grass grew, flowers bloomed, vines rose from the ground and every treant knew full stomachs this day.
I had also had a new experience, once my magic had done it's work and I was free to leave again, I looked behind me and saw a leaf on both sides of my flank. It was akin to a tattoo and I could not wipe it off no matter what spell I cast or how hard I scraped at it with my hooves. The image showed a bright green leaf, slightly rotted at the tip, as well as being scorched and tore by fire and lightning.
"Ugh, I hope that at least washes out." I said, far too tired to really care anymore.