“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” A stallion shrieked into the frosty air before his muzzle became the receiving end of a silver gauntlet. WHAM!
Two dozen grimy ponies looked up from where they were hammering together several bladed weapons before the stones of an ancient cemetery.
Th-Thump! The punched stallion fell meatedly to the snowy floor. Seraphimus stood in his place, winged armor glinting in the gray sunlight. Her cold charcoal eyes swept over the scene while three more griffons descended on whistling feathers.
“The Talon!” One of the weaponforgers shouted. Schiiing! He picked up the closest machete and turned tail, running. “Beat it! The Talon's found us—”
Windburst came in low. “Awwwwwww yeah, buddy.” He squinted down his trademark crossbow and—THWFFT!
Ch-Cthnnkt! The bolt stabbed through the shouting crook's limb, impaling him to the nearest gravestone. “Aaaaaugh!” He convulsed, struggling to yank himself free from the barb.
Windburst dove past him, plucked the arrow loose with his talon, and spun—kicking the breathless stallion hard to the ground in the process. Thud! At the end of his twirl, the griffon knelt, re-loaded the blood-stained projectile, and fired it again. THWFFT!
This time, it skewered the leg of a runner two criminals ahead. He fell to the ground, causing the two weaponforgers following to trip over him. “Ooomf!” They struggled to get up—only for Raptr to land on their spines with a monumental THUD! As they fell unconscious, the griffon turned his feathery head and shouted.
“Field's full of runners!” He casually lashed his lion's tail to the side, tripping another thug so that the stallion muzzle-planted against a stone. Thwack! “They're headed towards the central mausoleum!”
“On it!” Starstorm skirted past him, kicked off several gravestones, bounced multiple times, then leapt up high. Once she was directly over the bulk of the fleeing crowd, she rolled upside down and let loose a twirling fan of throwing stars in every direction. Th-Th-Th-Thwissssssh!
More than half of them embedded into the flesh of the criminals. Several ponies fell down hard, quivering in pain. Raptr and Windburst flew to each of them, swiftly binding their legs.
“Sexy stuff, Starstorm,” Windburst droned.
“Yeah!” Raptr exclaimed, grinning sweatedly amidst hoof-cuffing. “Really dang hot!”
“Watch it, rookie,” Starstorm flew down, restraining more groaning thugs.
“Hey!” Raptr frowned, pointing at the pale griffon beside him. “How come he gets to—”
“Beaks shut!” Windburst yanked another arrow out of his quiver and loaded it, facing north. “One's broken off from the rest!” He squinted, aiming at a lone stallion galloping towards the treeline on his own.
“I'm not going to the frosted pits!” the runner yelped to the wintry air. “Not again!”
Windburst aimed at his distant flank. “... ... ...” His hawkeye darted up instead. Then he tilted the crossbow, firing at an angle.
Thwisssssssssh! The arrow flew high, embedding into a frozen tree bough directly above the runner. The branches exploded, showering snow and rigid icicles all over the stallion's fleeing body.
“Aaaakkt!” He collapsed, twitching.
“Mmmmff... shaky...” Windburst stood up, beak clenched. “I'm losing my touch.”
“Yeah, if you say so.” Starstorm faced the far end of the graveyard. “Boss! The mausoleum!”
SWOOOOOOOOSH! An icy shadow glided over all the remaining ponies. They scarcely had a chance to look up before—
Th-Thump! Seraphimus landed on heavily armored limbs, cutting them off before they could reach a turf-roofed shrine of sunken granite. All the equines skidded to a stop, their blanching expressions reflecting against her armor.
“Do not move another inch,” the Commander said. “You are all under arrest for forging weapons for the terrorists of Pine Prefecture.”
Scrkkkkk! A stone door slid open behind her, followed by the sound of a double-crossbow being cocked. “And you just messed with the wrong unicorn.”
“... ... ...” Seraphimus calmly glanced over her shoulder.
A grizzled stallion stood at the shrine's entrance, his barbed weapon aimed at the back of her feathery helmet. Stacks upon stacks of wooden crates lingered inside the mausoleum, filled with daggers, swords, and scimitars.
“My name is Ironflanks the Batterer,” he spat, eyes flaring from the red glow of his horn. “And I am the Scourge of the Frozen Heights. Perhaps you have heard my name spoken?”
“Everything flatulates,” Seraphimus muttered. “Give me a reason to care.”
“Your business in these prefectures have come to an end,” Ironflanks hissed. “Do as I say, or I'll turn your pigeonhead into a pinhead!”
“Oh boy...” Starstorm flew in along with Windburst and Raptr. Together, all three faced the stallion at a distance with their weapons drawn. “You just made the biggest mistake of your life, pal—”
“SHUT UP!” Ironflanks howled, levitating his crossbow closer to Seraphimus' skull. “You don't get to make the rules here! Not anymore, Talon!” He turned to glare at Seraphimus once again. “You are going to call your little butt feather buddies off... and then you are going to leave this prefecture for good. These lands aren't worth saving anymore Talon. There are far more of us than you know.”
“And after today, they'll be short a fifth wheel,” Seraphimus droned.
“You don't intimidate me!” Ironflanks growled, weapon shaking. “I am the froth of the northern seas! I've seen infants feed on their mother's flesh in the birthing chambers of Mudtop! Pirates and mercenaries speak my name with dread and shiver!”
Seraphimus sighed. Looking ahead, she coiled her muscles, extending her wingblades at a sharp angle.
“And now the entire Council of Verlaxion will know that I, Ironflanks the Batterer, slayed their precious, untouchable—” SCHWIIIIIIIIIIIINKKKT! “... ... ...protector?” He blinked, for Seraphimus was suddenly in back of him. An unnatural wind came to a stop. As the stallion's mane settled, he looked down at the ground.
The crossbow was severed in over five pieces. The shattered bits of arrow littered the snow, bathing in a crimson pool... which was trickling directly out of his freshly dismembered fetlock.
“Aaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaah!” Ironflanks hollered, clutching his sliced stub of a forelimb. He keeled over on the ground, sobbing hysterically.
Muzzles agape, the remaining thugs looked past their leader's quivering body.
Seraphimus looked back at them.
Stifling whimpers, they all dropped to their haunches, holding their hooves submissively over their heads.
Raptr shrugged, then shuffled forward, shackling one suspect after the other. “Open and shut.”
“Honestly, though, boss...” Windburst smirked as he cuffed another pony. “...at this rate, I swear, it's almost as if you're trying to start a trophy collection.”
“He's lucky the Goddess gave him juices to bleed with,” Seraphimus muttered, stepping over Ironflanks' body. “Get a fire going. Cauterize him with his own filthy metal.”
“Magic to my ears,” Windburst droned.
Starstorm flew immediately towards the mausoleum. She gazed deep into the shrine. “...it's all in here, Commander.” She turned to look back at Seraphimus. “Just like the one we interrogated said. Wanna bet the others are full of illegal weaponry as well?”
“I'll leave you in charge of investigating,” Seraphimus said. She pointed a rigid talon over the gravestones. “Check the other mausoleums. Start with the east shrines.”
“You mean where the old monks are buried?”
“Precisely. This is a sacred area.” She shuffled over and hoisted up the first two yelping prisoners she could reach. “...some of us still respect that.” She lifted up with the criminals in tow, which caused the thugs no end of fright.
Raptr and Windburst followed her, carrying more surrendered ponies. “Where are we taking them?” Raptr asked.
“To the southern slopes, Sergeant,” Seraphimus said. “The central guard will find a place to throw these cretins away.”
“And then off to the gravel yards, huh?” Windburst remarked. His headcrest raised. “Doesn't seem to stop a spit-full of these punks. I swear... I've seen some of these morons before.”
“No way...” Raptr shook his head. “They couldn't possibly swing back to a life of smuggling weapons that easily, could they?”
Seraphimus took a deep breath.
Raptr blinked under his helmet. “Well, c-could they?”
“Mrmmff... our job is to kick flank and the occasional feather,” Windburst muttered. “It's up to the Council and its various branches to administer sentencing. Isn't that right, boss?”
“We go where Verlaxion's righteous fury is most needed, Sergeant,” Seraphimus said as they reached the rusted iron gates to the ancient graveyard. “And while we can't exact all punishment, we can certainly cut off the snake's head in ways that no one else can.”
“What do you have in mind, Commander?” Raptr asked.
“Every terrorist we've tracked down in these prefectures have enjoyed an untraceable supply of illegal weaponry... until now.” She tossed her two prisoners down onto the snowy mound with pained grunts. Then, with a deep breath, she turned towards the other protectors. “We shall begin a burning pyre. After Starstorm has returned, and we've retrieved all of the contraband...” Her eyes narrowed. “Burn it.”
Swab sat on the edge of his mattress, neatly scooping the rice out of a fresh bag of nibbles until he had two separate piles lying in front of him. Then, humming to himself, the little colt plucked the kernels in fives and tens... dropping them into his mouth, swallowing. He did this for minutes on end, being methodical about it.
Meters away, across the hold, Quint, Whony, and several other colts sat at their fire-lit table, playing a round game of cards.
“I just don't get it...” A colt muttered, slapping a card down and rearranging what he had left in his hoof. “That monster's been down there for two days now! Why hasn't she torn the struts to shreds yet?”
“Hrmmmff... maybe she's bored,” another foal grumbled, drawing from the deck. “She needs slave flesh from Monket for sport.”
“You talk as if you want the Rainbow Rogue to tear Red Barge a new one,” Quint said. Even as he dealt a card, his eyes remained glued across the hold... squinting at the sight of a one-eared colt fiddling with his rice. “If you ask me, Skagra made the right gamble.”
“How so?”
“Isn't it obvious?!” Whony frowned. “Monket nabbed the wrong dayum pegasus! It's not the monster at all! Skagra and Company are going to cash in with the fat cat from Rohbredden by selling him a bum freak!”
“Hah! A bum rogue...”
“How do you know this, Whony?”
“Because!” He cackled, muzzle scrunched. “She didn't even bother attacking... attacking...” He winced suddenly, then made up for it with a growling frown. “Rnnnngh... this game sucks!”
“Your face sucks.”
“Wanna fight about it?”
“Pfft. Big whoop. You've got nothing behind your hooves.”
“Hahahaha...”
“Grrrnnngh...”
Across the way, Swab brushed his hooves off, finished munching and then very carefully... scooped the remaining rice back into the tiny satchel.
Quint blinked.
“Still... that would be the biggest win that this stinkin' Barge has ever scored.” One colt smiled at the others from behind his fan of cards. “Skagra's ultimate bluff.”
“A bum rainbow rogue for a ton of bits?”
“Hell. Something to eat other than rice for once!”
“I like it.”
“Your mom likes it.”
“Meh.”
On light hooves, Swab hopped off his mattress, then scampered across the hold with the bag of rice in his clutches. He hummed to himself... and there was even the faintest hint of a smile on his muzzle as he galloped up deck and into the sunlight.
“Ugh...” Whony rolled his eyes. “I can't stand how smug that little bastard's gotten as of late. Must have been something he inhaled from the steam. Good. Maybe that means we'll be rid of his sorry ass sometime soon.” With that off his chest, he glanced one more at his card. “Grnnngh... buck this. I fold.” He slapped the cards down onto the table and glanced to his right. “What about you, Quint? Any luck?” He blinked. “Quint?”
The chair was empty.
A blood red sunset pierced the smog over the hulls and pipework as Swab made his way south over the struts. He whistled to himself, juggling the bag of rice once... twice... thrice...
On the fourth juggle, the bag didn't fall back down.
Swab scuffled to a stop, gazing at his empty little hoof. “...huh?”
WHAM! A heavy leg bucked him in his scarred flank.
He flew off and slammed into a loose pile of metal tools. Cl-Clannnng! “Aughh...!” Wincing, he rubbed his shoulder and stood back up. “Hey!”
Quint stood a few paces over, holding the shriveled half-bag of rice. He glared at it, then at the tiny colt.
“Give it back!” Swab galloped over. “Those are my nibbles! I've earned—”
WHUMP! Quint was waiting with a well-timed knee to Swab's chest.
“Oooofff...” Swab fell to his haunches, clutching his chest and wheezing.
“Are they?!” Quint's teeth gnashed. “Are they really?!”
“Mrmmff... I-I earned th-them...” Swab squeaked, eyes tearing as he struggled to regain his breath. “G-give...”
“Why not eat them in the hold with the rest of the ponies, seafoam?!” Quint marched around him. “Huh?! Did you need to go out for a relaxing afternoon stroll? Smell the flowers? Watch the sunlight glitter beautifully off the muck?!” He finished the last outburst with a heavy kick.
Swab rolled several feet away and came to a bumpy stop against a bulkhead. He waved a hoof for Quint to stay back. “Listen...” He gulped. “Quint, I can explain—”
“You've been giving pieces of your share to the monster?! The Rainbow Rogue!” Quint gritted his teeth, leering above him. “Haven't you?!”
Swab exhaled. “It's no big deal.” He gulped. “It doesn't have to concern anypo—”
“When it comes to nibbles, it is my concern! For they're my nibbles!” Quint snarled, pointing at himself. “All of the food we get down there is my responsibility! Without me... who's going to hold back punks like Whony and the other seafoam bitchflanks from ripping rice and fish straight out of your stupid little gullet?!”
Swab hung his head, pouting. “...well you didn't do a good job of holding Whony back the other night—”
Grunting, Quint flung the rice like a pebble straight at Swab's face.
Swab ducked—only to feel the shadow of Quint hanging over him. “You're a sorry-ass little orphan! Half the hearing and twice the waste of space! Whony could crush your skull in permanently and—guess what?! The seven seas will keep on bleeding!”
“I'm not an orphan,” Swab growled. “My parents are—”
“But when a seafoam prick like you steals my rice from under my nose, then we have a problem!” He pointed. “Can you get that through that scrappy little skull of yours?! Don't you see how you're hurting me?! Hurting all of us by demanding more rice and just... throwing it down the throat of a living cesspool?!”
“She's tired and battered and hungry, Quint!” Swab stammered. “It was the least I coul—”
“She's a commodity, Swab!” Quint hollered. “A bargaining chip for Skagra and nothing more! Tomorrow she'll be one with the muck and we'll still be here. Right here!” He pointed at the rusted deck beneath them. “Starving!”
Swab bit his lip, gazing aside. “You think she's the only one who's owned around here?”
“Grnngh—just shut up! Shut your stupid mucking muzzle!” Quint growled, shaking his hoof. “I don't know what's lamer... this crazy spell that's gotten into you or the fact that I'm even arsed enough to give a shit! You wanna live to see another day on this floating dungheap?! You play by my rules!”
“But Quint—”
“You are not to share your nibbles with anyone outside the hold ever again! If I so much as see you carrying a single grain of bread to the southern strut, I'll let Whony and the others pull you apart by your legs and use your dinky ribs for asswiping!” Quint spat. “Got it?!”
Swab sat in sullen silence.
Quint rolled his eyes, spun around, and marched off in a huff.
“Hrmmff... I get it,” Swab eventually muttered, glaring aside at the rust and filth. “...I get that you'll make a great top dredger some day...”
“Rrrrrrrrrngh!” Spontaneously, Quint came charging back. He shoved Swab hard against a bulkhead—CLANG!—and pointed in his face. “I am NOT Skagra!”
“Grnkkkt...” Swab dangled in his grip. “And just... grnngh... wh-where's it going to end, Quint?”
“... ... ...” Quint's muzzle hung open. He twitched once or twice, as if to say something. Then—seething—he dropped the foal altogether and marched off at in a slump.
Swab sat on the deck, rubbing his throat. He coughed several times, wincing. He looked over, spotting the rice. Dragging the bag back towards himself, the little foal sighed, then cradled it to his forehead in dull silence.
It was nighttime when the messengers arrived at the frigid graveyard's entrance, but the Rohbredden landscape glowed all the same.
Th-Thrump!
A pegasus landed, having to squint into a plume of bright amber flame. He adjusted his scarf and flight jacket as he strolled across the frozen, crunchy grass... gradually thawing and bending beneath his hooves the closer that he came within proximity of the intense heat. Circling the bonfire was a smattering of wagons, and dozens of ponies and griffons from the neighboring prefecture were busily grabbing crates full of metal weaponry and dumping them into the burning blaze, effectively ruining the items and turning the hilts to ashes.
Overlooking this entire procedure was Seraphimus, accompanied by Raptr and Windburst. Holding a torch in her talon, she swiftly issued a few commands to a member of the central guard before pivoting about in time to greet the lead messenger.
“I see that it wasn't a dead end after all!” the pegasus spoke loudly over the noise of clattering weaponry. The bonfire blazed brighter to his side as he squinted Seraphimus' way. “So these really were the punks responsible for weaponizing the terrorists in Pine Prefecture?!”
“They're godless filth,” Seraphimus slurred. “And I dealt with them accordingly.”
“Damn skippy!” The pegasus glanced at the crowd of prisoners huddled to the side, being watched by the central guard. “Along the way here, I heard via wing that Ironflanks the Batterer was caught!” He motioned with his head. “That him? The dude clutching the bandages to his leg?”
“He has no leg,” Seraphimus remarked, smiling slightly beneath her beak. “In the end, I felt it appropriate to relinquish him of it.”
Raptr and Windburst smirked at one another.
“Heh... you truly are the real deal, aren't you, Commander?”
Seraphimus exhaled, nodding at his bag. “You bring a message from the Council, my little pony?”
“Nope...” The pegasus fished through his satchel. “This one comes from the far west, ma'am. Beyond the shoreline!”
Raptr looked up. “Keris...?”
“Your very own Lieutenant has delivered a message to reach your talons and yours alone,” the pegasus said, hoofing her a scroll. He watched as the Commander sliced the ribbon apart in the messenger's grip before sliding the written letter loose. “It was partially delivered over the waves by the S.S. Snowbrink.”
“Uhhh...” Raptr glanced aside. “Why's that so significant?”
“It's the ship the Council sent to provide aid to the Luminards,” Windburst droned. He craned his neck. “What's it say, boss?”
Seraphimus held the letter up to the torchlight, squinting. “... ... ...Keris has 'thoroughly questioned the monks of the Quade...'” She blinked, lowering the scroll altogether. “And now he's determined to 'head east to track the oceanic drift of the Rainbow Rogue.'”
“So he's headed back to Rohbredden?” Raptr asked.
“Yeah...” Windburst's beak nostrils flared. “...but Red Barge is in the way.” He looked at Seraphimus. “Commander, maybe... maybe you can send me and Starstorm out to meet up with him there. With the terrorists' supplies cut off, they're bound to lay low for a while. Starstorm and I will make sure that Keris doesn't get sidetracked trying to—”
“No.” Seraphimus shook her head. She pocketed the scroll beneath her armored plates. “The Lieutenant is faithful and trustworthy. I sent him to investigate the whereabouts of the Rainbow Rogue. This message simply confirms that he is following through with the orders given him.”
“But boss...” Windburst leaned forward, eyecrests waggling. “We both know Keris. With an opportunity like this, he's bound to snoop around and—”
“Keris has sworn his fealty and devotion to Verlaxion... through me,” Seraphimus retorted, charcoal eyes glaring. “And so have you. We must have faith in the Lieutenant's judgment in this matter. Is that understood?”
Windburst leaned back, his beak nevertheless crooked. “Mmmmmm...”
“Nothing gets in and out of those barges, I swear,” Raptr muttered. “This could be the last we hear from him in... like.. days!”
“He will find a way to reach us if he has to,” Seraphimus said. “Nevertheless...” She turned towards the messenger. “Have all of your available agents on call. I want to be alerted the first moment the Lieutenant runs into any crisis.”
“Aye.” The pegasus saluted. “Anything you say, Commander.”
“Keris is resourceful... but he is in godless, amoral waters.” Seraphimus exhaled. “It takes a valiant mind to stay focused in such a wasteland. I'd be there in his stead if my presence wasn't so desperately needed here.” At the sound of whistling winds, she and the other soldiers turned and looked north. “Sergeant. Have you found any more weapons?”
Swooosh! Starstorm glided to a stop. She took a shuddering breath before looking up. “No more weapons, Commander. The... mausoleums have been emptied.”
Seraphimus raised an eyecrest.
“Great!” Raptr remarked, grinning. “Then this place has been cleaned up!”
“Stop sounding so chipper,” Windburst droned. “It'll rust your armor.”
“Pffft! Well, forgive me if I feel a bit like celebrating! I mean... heck! After all of this thug-nabbing, I'd say even Verlaxion would feel like granting us a bit of much deserved R&R—”
“Sergeant.” Seraphimus didn't stop staring at Starstorm: “The East Shrines. Did you check them?”
The Sergeant didn't meet her charcoal gaze. “There... were no weapons to be found there, just as I said, Command—”
“But you did check them...?” Seraphimus blinked. “The ancient tombs? Did you or didn't you?!”
Starstorm clenched her beak tighter. She finally lifted her chin up and met the Commander's gaze.
Crkkkkk!
With gauntleted talons, Starstorm reopened one of the sunken mausoleums. Amber light flooded the interior as Seraphimus ducked in, holding her torch high. She took two steps and scuffled to a stop, blinking.
The stone confines of the room had been swept clean. Even the dust and tatters of ages were gone. In its place, the Commander saw bedrolls, cooking pots, tents, and no small amount of careless garbage.
“They... used this mausoleum as a bunk,” Starstorm explained, standing beside her superior. “Instead of camping outside.” She gulped. “Guess they figured their supplies would be visible to air patrols, which is also why they used the central shrine to act as storage for the weapons they were forging.”
“Why is there so much room in here?” Seraphimus asked.
“I imagine it was cramped before,” Starstorm said. “They had to have... cleared everything out.”
The Commander's eyes narrowed. She swung the torch high to illuminate a series of empty alcoves to the far side of the chamber. “The catacombs. Where are the monks?”
Starstorm's beak lingered open.
Seraphimus swiveled to gawk at her.
Starstorm gulped. “Th-they're not here anymore, Commander.”
“... ... ...” Seraphimus took one last look at the interior... then spun about, marching outside. Starstorm swiftly followed.
The Commander wandered past the sunken shrines with their snowy turf roofs. She shuffled in a zig-zagged fashion, swaying her torch left and right, illuminating more patches of green grass and white snow. White flakes drifted around her in a halo as she continued her ardent search. Vapors rippled before her beak in faster and faster bursts.
“Commander...” Starstorm stumbled after her. “Just—... before you l—”
Crunch.
Seraphimus jolted to a stop. She stared straight down... then lifted one of her paws. A brittle, ancient totem lay beneath her, its windigo effigies shattered to bits. The Commander raised the torch, revealing a trailing line of chalky detritus directly in front of her... leading towards a pit... a pit that was full of pale limbs.
A sharp breath escaped her.
Ancient, petrified bodies lay haphazardly atop each other, their once-precious silk wrappings shredded to bits... dangling wildly in the frigid breeze. Equine jaws and avian beaks lingered in voiceless howls, some detached from their skulls. Funeral shrouds were scattered loosely about, and there was no totem to Verlaxion that wasn't in some way bent, battered, or snapped down the center.
Starstorm shuffled up with a sigh. “It's... it's more than just the East Mausoleum.” She gulped. “Some of these belong to the western shrines as well. I know because I checked. I... uhm... I-I think that most of the silk wrappings were used to fuel their campfires.” She took a deep breath. “It... it was my discovery, Commander. I'll personally write about it in our report to the Council.”
The light shifted; the petrified monks fell once more under the veil of twisted darkness.
“...?” Starstorm looked down to see that the torch was lying on the grass beside her. “Commander...?!” Clenching her beak suddenly, the Sergeant spun around and frantically took to the night sky on flapping wings.
“Grnnnghhh...” Ironflanks the Batterer huddled besides a tiny patch of flame at the graveyard's snowy entrance.
Several other ponies sat next to him, holding their cuffed hooves before the flame. Their eyes met their leader's.
“Grnnngh... what are you looking at?” he stammered, cradling his bandaged stub of a forelimb. “Heh... look on the bright side.” He bore a grimy smile. “It'll make for a nasty hook. Huh?”
Suddenly, the other prisoners' eyes widened. On trembling flanks, they scooted away from Ironflanks.
“What?” He blinked, ignorant of the icy talons thud-thud-thudding towards him from behind. “Come on! It'll be badflank!” WHAP! A savage pair of claws dug bloodily into the unicorn's shoulder, yanking him backwards. “Aaaaaugh!”
Several prisoners, workers, and guards looked up at the sound of Ironflanks' screams.
Raptr and Windburst rushed over, beaks agape.
Seething, Seraphimus violently dragged the shrieking stallion away from the prisoners. Everypony and griffon parted ways as she made a steel-straight path for the pyre. With a deep growl, she spun, flinging him across the freshly melted snow.
“Oomf—grnngh!” Ironflanks rolled towards the bonfire, where he came into contact with a hot-red shard of bent metal. Ssssss! “Aaa-haaugh!” Before he could vent his entire lung capacity, the same talon that dragged him there hoisted him up by the neck. “Grkkk!”
“Our Goddess...” Seraphimus hollered, lifting him up between the smoke and stars. “...blessed this shrine! She came to earth and drove the windigoes from this mountain! With Her own spirit! And for centuries, the monks who worshipped Her came here and gave their bodies to honor Her! And what have you done to their legacy?!”
“Grnkkkt... c-can't... breathe...” Ironflanks wheezed, his eyes tearing... rolling back.
“We breathe... because of her!” Seraphimus spat. “We live through Her Glory! And by the whim of Her mercy or Her fury...” She thrusted him forward... his body licking at the blazes. “...we die!”
Raptr dashed forward, only to be restrained by a talon. He looked up to see Windburst shaking his head, watching with a steely gaze.
The unicorn in Seraphimus' grip twitched all over. Smoke rose from his mane and shoulders. In a burst of bright light, the tips of Ironflanks' tailhairs caught on fire.
“Those monks were sanctified!” Seraphimus hollered.
“Commander!” Starstorm finally caught up, gliding to a stop right behind her.
“Their bodies were consecrated so that they might reach the Spring Havens!” The Talon leader's eyes flared. “Tell me, heathen filth...”
Starstorm reached in. “Commander, don't—”
“...who has sanctified you?!?” Seraphimus roared. “And where will your ashes go when all the meat is gone?!?”
Starstorm gulped and spoke firmly. “Commander, he has given up. Nopony is at harm right now because of this creep. He's a surrendered prisoner.” She shook her head. “It's up to the Council to decide a punishment befitting Verlaxion's wrath—”
“I am Verlaxion's wrath!” Seraphimus hissed.
Starstorm took calm, even breaths. Finally, she reached in, resting a soft talon on the Commander's shoulder. “Seraphimus... we are a long... long way from Frostknife's Frozen Chambers of Mercy...”
Seraphimus blinked, her breath suddenly coming out in thin pants.
“Just who are you vindicating here?” Starstorm's talons squeezed. “Those monks died centuries ago. They've done their part for the Goddess... as must you.”
“... ... ...” Seraphimus clenched her beak tight. The moment moisture broke the edges of her eye sockets, she seethed. “Rrnnngh—!”
Th-Thwump! Ironflanks' body rolled across the frozen ground. The snow he came into contact with turned to steam. He shook and whimpered, clutching his beet-red flesh. Within seconds, Raptr knelt at his side, reaching a talon out—
“NO.”
Raptr jolted back. He and the injured unicorn looked up.
Seraphimus marched over. “Leave him. Filth that touches filth risks becoming the same.” She shook her head. “I swear to the most merciful Queen... I clean and I sweep the slime from these mountains, but they keep rolling back.” She tilted her head up, hollering towards the local guard. “Constable! Ensure that this thing gets transported and jailed alone! Give him no luxuries and grant him no visitation!” She glared at Ironflanks again, making the stallion flinch. “I want him alone in the darkness of his cell... so that the only picture his putrid mind paints is with the colors of this night... deep red and amber. That way he'll know—if he so much as thinks of squeezing out of whatever frozen orifice they shove him in—he'll know just who will be waiting on the other side.”
He whimpered, leaning back. The snow beneath him turned a slight shade of yellow.
Planting her helmet back on her head, Seraphimus took a long... meditative breath. “... ... ...Sergeant?”
Starstorm jumped in place. “Commander?”
“... ... ...at ease.” And the leader of the Talon calmly walked away.
Starstorm gazed at her. “...s-sure thing.”
Slowly, the scene around the burning bonfire spun back into motion. A pair of guards ushered Ironflanks' aching figure away.
Raptr stood back, smoothing back his headcrest with a jittery talon. As Windburst shuffled over to his side, the smaller griffon gulped. “Verlaxion's sleet... for a second there... I-I was scared that she would actually roast him to a crisp!”
“Pffft...” Windburst snorted, smirking. “Who's 'scared?'” And he brushed past the rookie.
Raptr blinked after him. At last, he hung his beak, rubbing his head. “... ... ...I really could use that R&R...”