I Am the Tribunal
“Wait... what?” Ariel leaned in towards Rainbow's half of the table. “What's this about 'the twelve?'”
Wildcard shrugged.
“I suspect we're about to find out,” Seraphimus said, eyeing the entirety of the electrified arena all around them. The whole company of gathered Bloodwings was still cheering, hissing, and celebrating the victorious Beholder at the base of the Colosseum.
Rainbow was also looking all around, and she caught sight of movement coming from a dark entrance built into the base of the arena—Omega side. Just as injured and barely-conscious warriors were being escorted out, a cluster of sarosians with questionable tools and equipment came slowly shuffling in through the same passage.
“Hey... book-bat-girl...”
No response.
Wildcard nudged Shriike hard.
“Gaah!” Shriike dropped her canteen, caught it with last-second telekinesis, then looked over at Rainbow Dash. “Is the so-called avatar addressing me?”
“Get your pen and paper out,” Rainbow muttered, looking all around.
“Pffft. This is hardly Imperial concern!” She upturned her nose. “Business within the Hall of Honor is just your regular waste of nimrodic cycles—”
“Don't do it for Gibbous Sanctum,” Rainbow hissed, then locked eyes once more on the shifting company within the body of the arena. “Do it for me. I... think I'll need a record of this.”
“Hey...” Shriike shrugged, levitating a pen and scroll into proximity. “...you're the mini boss~”
All the while, Lexxic could be seen rising up from his seat. A curious little Spek'kl blinked at him while he motioned towards the Second. Azarias flew in close, and Lexxic spoke into his most trusted warrior's leafy ear.
Rainbow Dash couldn't make out what was being said. Wildcard—however—had stood his whole height. The motions of the First Son's muzzle reflected off his muzzle, and soon the expert Desperado was talon-signing to Rainbow Dash:
“'Take the stage. Prepare them for my speech. The Twelve arrive.'”
Before Wildcard was finished translating, Rainbow could see Azarias nodding to his superior. With a mighty flap of his scarred wings, he glided out and into the empty air of the arena's base. Hovering at-level with the lowest terrace of the seating, Azarias let out a loud and ear-piercing shriek:
“EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!”
Ariel and Shriike winced. Wildcard peered intently at the proceedings. Seraphimus kept a wary eye trained on Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow sat still and calm, waiting for the Hall of Honor's reaction to the Second. All the while, a certain hovering dragonequus leaned towards her ear. “If this is their idea of dessert, I remain unimpressed.”
“I don't think ponies with a thirst for blood have a sweet-tooth,” Rainbow replied.
Seraphimus looked at her funny—
“BROTHERS!!!” Azarias hollered explosively—and only now did Rainbow and her companions realize the full extent of his booming, authoritarian voice. It shook the Penumbrans down to their very bones, and even Rainbow shuddered to imagine what thousands of like-spirited Azariases might sound like, diving and screaming into the heart of battle. “WARRIORS!!! BLOODWINGS TO THE HORRID END!!!” With a wave of a scarred hoof, Azarias gestured towards the terrace where Lexxic and his closest subordinates sat. ”THE FIRST SON OF NIGHTMARES!!! LEXXY'KYN!!! HE NOW BLESSES US WITH HIS HONORABLE PRESENCE!!!”
And just like that, the entire Hold erupted with hisses and roaring applause—enough to top the applause for the victorious gladiator just minutes ago by a factor of ten. This time, Ariel had to cover her poor ears. Shriike winced as she struggled to jot down notes of the proceedings amidst all the cacophony.
Rainbow managed to spot Lexxic turning to Masser, smirking, and saying something beneath all of the noise, noise, noise. Between her own keen observational skills and Wildcard's followup gestures, she managed to get a semblance of the exchange:
“I never eat a thing here, and still he manages to fat me up.”
“Brother?”
“Best finish your plate, Masser'myn. I need you by my side.”
“Ywm, Lexxy'kyn.”
Lexxic gestured to Spek'kl—who looked a little surprised that he was still of relevance. With an enthusiastic flapping of his leather wings, the bloodcolt followed Lexxic and Masser as they leapt off the terrace's edge and glided down towards the arena floor.
As Lexxic drew further and further away...
“Whelp...” Discord's ghostly voice broke through the bedlam, causing her to glance at him. “...a good buffet doesn't last forever.” Rainbow watched as he plucked his left arm off with his right and waved it like a flag. “Austrrivederci~!”
In a lavender burp, the dragonequus disappeared. Rainbow's five ghostly friends materialized in his absence, and she inhaled her easiest breath since leaving Central Headquarters around two hours ago.
“Hey! Girls!” Applejack motioned to the others, eyeballing their anchor. “Reckon she can see us now!”
“Well, naturally!” Rarity purred. “That insufferably pale ruffian has distanced himself!”
Rainbow looked immediately towards Twilight Sparkle, speaking firmly beneath the noise. “Did you catch any of that?”
“We caught all of it!” Twilight floated closer. “Rainbow—it's obvious by now that Lexxic doesn't want the same thing as the elders and—”
“Dashie!” Pinkie Pie zoomed into Rainbow's point of view, occupying her entire face. “First thing's first! Bleaaaachkkkkkk-arrrrghhhhlleeeee!!!” Her pink muzzle contorted into twenty different shapes that expressed 'vomitous'. After a big gasping gulp of phantom air, she threw on the most sympathetic of sad faces. “How in golly-gosh's name could you eat that soggy slop?!”
“Pinkie...” Rainbow's ears went flat as she struggled to look past her. “Not now—!”
“This was the worst meal in the history of worst meals!” The party planner frowned, forelimbs folded. “They didn't even have bendy straws or confetti! What kind of an exciting gladiatorial dining experience is this supposed to be, anyways?!”
“For Celestia's sake, Pinkie!” Twilight growled, floating inward and shoving her out of the way. “We've got more important things to discuss right now!”
“Gals...” Rainbow gritted her teeth.
“More important than Dashie's diet?!” Pinkie pointed at the hideous pile of gunketry remaining on Rainbow's p late. “At this rate, she's gonna have to visit a million gazillion port-a-potties between here and the Midnight Armory! You think there's a Yaerfaerda beacon for those?!”
“Girls—!” But it wasn't Rainbow who blurted this time; it was Fluttershy. Everyone looked to see the ghostly pegasus peering out towards the bottom of the arena, gesturing at the gathering group of sarosians near the dark entrance below. “They're bringing ponies in from outside the Hold.”
“That's not all they're bringing,” Rarity said, trying to match Fluttershy's earnest calm. “They have... strange materials with them.”
“They're enchanted,” Twilight added, focusing on the moment. Her violet eyes squinted on the scene below. “...I-I don't think I've ever sensed this magic before.”
“Perhaps it's best we lie back and observe,” Applejack suggested. She looked at Rainbow. “Yes? No?”
Rainbow merely nodded, lips pursed. Meanwhile, the arena all around and above was erupting in rhythmic chants, all echoing one name:
LEXXY'KYN!!!
LEXXY'KYN!!!
LEXXY'KYN!!!
LEXXY'KYN!!!
Azarias lowered, just in time to join Masser and Lexxic. The three formed a miniature “V” in the center of the arena—trotting a slow circle—with the First Son at the furthestmost point. Spek'kl trotted awkwardly, struggling to keep up and maintain some “menacing” dignity under the scrutiny of so many slitted eyes-eyes-eyes. It was clear the bloodcolt was trembling, but he made the best of it.
Every sarosian was standing at their seats now. Some even stretched the rules a bit: hovering in place as they pumped their forelimbs and cheered uproariously for their fearless leader. The deafening salvos of their voices found a rhythm: circling up and down with admirable harmony and coordination. This was clearly not the first time either Lexxic or the Bloodwings as a whole went through these motions, and from the sheer hysteria resonating throughout the ancient chamber—it was more than a little bit obvious that this was how the entire Dark Vigil's army “recharged.”
Rainbow looked up, up, up—at all of the writhing and celebratory bodies. She then let her gaze fall slowly back down to where Lexxic trotted in circles.
The First Son smiled—a very genuine expression. His helm reflected the distant flicker of runes and torchlight. He “responded” with a pulsating strobe to the five daggers notched within the headpiece. Whether that drew a specific reaction or not, Rainbow Dash couldn't pretend to the guess. The noise of voices was a solid wall at this point: easily the loudest sustained noise she had been exposed to in all of her travels. Which was impressive, among other things.
Rainbow's gaze drifted past the four central figures in the arena, spotting the bodies and shapes lingering within the dark entrance that led into the base of the coliseum. She saw the subtly glinting signatures of multiple eyes—like wolves in lurking. Countless sarosians were biding their time, waiting—no doubt—on some unforeseen ceremony to unfold... before they could entertain the idea of coming out.
LEXXY'KYN!!!
LEXXY'KYN!!!
LEXXY'KYN!!!
The bedlam went on and on. It became clear to Rainbow and her companions that these warriors could (and would) celebrate the moment forever. Lexxic clearly knew the same. And so he strolled into the very center of the arena, rested back on his dark haunches, and raised his paler forelimbs up high.
The chanting melted into one last sonic blast of exultation... and finally... finally died down. Even once the crowd had “hushed,” its volume was still high enough to rival a miniature battleground surrounding Rainbow and her allies. The Bloodwing leader was more than prepared for this, and Rainbow saw him gesturing to the Third. Masser opened a bandoleer and produced three lunar rune stones. He tossed them to Lexxic...
...who levitated three of his glowing daggers. The runes “attached” to the hovering projectiles—somehow—and a cold silver aura bathed the heart of the arena like a spotlight as Lexxic lifted his fanged mouth and spoke through the enchanted air:
“Are we dead yet, brothers?!?”
That entire chunk of the Tree of Mothers' roots shook with a big, booming, resounding: “NOOOO!!!!” Rainbow swore it was loud and magnificent enough to be felt all the way up in Gibbous Sanctum, shaking the dreamwalkers out of their slumber.
Lexxic's teeth glinted as much as his helm, and he followed swiftly with: “Then honor still has a vessel!!!”
Hisses.
Shrieks.
Echoing howls.
Ariel winced, covering her ears with each blast. Wildcard glanced all around with a rising restlessness. Seraphimus remained calm as a stone.
Once this wave of cheer had died down, Lexxic turned to look at the circular perimeter of the arena. Most—if not all—of the defeated combatants had been dragged off, but a unicorn announcer and the one-true-victor of the free-for-all lingered just near the entrance. Lexxic gestured for them to come over, and his smile beamed even brighter.
“And on this night—with greatest magnificence and zeal...” Lexxic's voice echoed from the trifold runic enchantment carried aloft by his strobing daggers. “...I find a warrior most worthy of praise!!”
The unicorn attempted helping the combatant in question, but the stallion swiftly shrugged the speaker's touch off. Taking a deep breath, he trotted forward as steadily as he could—compensating for a noticeable lip and multiple bruises.
A low bass hum rolled reverently through the crowd. Wildcard glanced aside, and his goggles reflected the faces of Hyggs, Bosonn, Lukaas, and Sypher—all leaning forward with anticipation burning in their slitted eyes, laced with sparks of pride.
At last, the stallion joined Lexxic at his side. Seeing the warrior's injuries, Lexxic did not hesitate to lend him a helping hoof. He wrapped a forelimb tightly around the sarosian's withers. This—the combatant did not expect, nor did he refuse. Overcome with surprise and emotion, he stood tall and resolute, biting his bottom lip as his eyes noticeably glistened in the light of his leader's runes.
“Strong and courageous brother...” Lexxic tilted his head aside as the daggers drifted the three runes closer. “What is your name?”
After a deep breath, the Bloodwing spoke through bleeding lips: “I am Hry'skym'lynnlym! Victorious soldier of the N'shydymma Bleak Raids! Second Wing ravager of my Battalion!” He stomped a hoof down. “And proud warrior of the First Root!”
The entire group of tables surrounding Rainbow Dash rattled and shook with violent joy. Hyggs and Bosonn slapped and pounded the ground beneath them before beating their chests with equal gusto. Rainbow spotted Shriike rolling her spectacled eyes.
““Dearest brother...” Lexxic smiled slyly, his voice dipping a soft octave or two lower through the enchanted amplifier. “Is that quite all?”
The combatant blinked stupidly at him—then a look of euphoria spread through his muzzle, almost as if he was regarding his reflection in the First Son's helm. He spun and hollered to the high heavens: “And the Bloodwing Beholder of Honor!!!”
Lexxic did a wave as yet another round of thunderous cheer issued. Masser let out a glorious, booming laugh from behind. Azarias remained still and emotionless.
Once that had settled, Lexxic pivoted to face the soldier. The runes-and-daggers floated to match. “Hry'skym...” His helm tilted forward as his voice hardened like a sword's blade. “Courageous and tenacious Hry'skym'lynnlym of First Root... would you honor me by joining my company in our next engagement? I could think of no greater glory than having the Bloodwing Beholder of Honor by my side.”
Hry'skym leaned back with a sharp salute. When he spoke, his voice caught in the amplifier's enchantment—although not quite as pronounced as Lexxic's. “Brother—First Son of Nightmares—it would be my joy and honor to die by your side.”
Lexxic stood next to him again, smiling coyly. “Yes, well, let's hope you slaughter many of T'chyrym's bastard Flux spawn before you do...~”
Chuckles rivered up and down the coliseum. Again—somehow—Masser's laughter sounded the loudest.
“Hry'skym...” Lexxic resumed, keeping the soldier within the glow the amplifier. “...I shall do everything in my power to ferry your legacy into the Narrow. I shall think of you—as I shall think of all my comrades, both living and passed—on the glorious night that we finally break into the vaults of the Sarcophagus.” He then trotted back towards the Second and Third... or more specifically towards the tiny, trembling figure struggling to stand in formation with them all. “And if that cycle should come a little further from now than anticipated, I do sincerely hoped to be joined by you, brave one.”
Spek'kl jerked anxiously to the current moment at hoof. With slitted eyes darting, he faced Lexxic, looking up into the glow of his daggers as they loomed menacingly close.
“The Hall of Honor is yours, little brother,” Lexxic spoke. “Please—state your standing.”
Spek'kl fought tears, his ears drooping. The daggers dimmed ever so slightly—which could have only been the First Son's doing. Spek'kl took notice, but instead of outright sobbing, he took a little hop forward with wings spread and cracked his determined voice into the aura: “I am Wry'spek'lym! Fifth Wing of Bloodcolt Bleak Formation Delta, Sixth Root!!” He panted and panted... wincing—as if wondering if there was anything he missed. His slitted eyes darted towards Lexxic.
Lexxic smiled.
Spek'kl puffed his chest out and blurted further into the aura: “And a proud Son of Nightmares!” He shook his right forelimb high in the air. “Destined for the Narrow! Eee-Eee-Eee-Eee!!!”
The whole arena shook as loudly as it did when Hry'skym first won the free-for-all.
Spek'kl beamed, turning around in breathless circles as he beheld the entire arena cheering for him. At some point, he spotted Masser towering above him. With a smirk, the Second pointed directly at a distant-distant portion of seating positioned among the higher terraces. A singular batallion of bloodcolts hovered higher than the rest of the audience, cheering. Spek'kl instantly recognized his fellow comrades and hissed back at them through the bedlam.
Azarias' muscles tightened, restraining from ruining the moment on behalf of a choice few youngsters breaking the “no-fly” rule.
Lexxic chuckled, then paced slowly around Spek'kl. “Wry'spek'lym honors me. Hry'skym'lynnlym fills me with pride. But let us not forget, brothers...” Lexxic bowed his head slightly, and the daggers strobed in a paler blue light. “...not all respect is earned in ceremony. Victory is what we aim for... but we would not get to a place of triumph without the platform of sacrifice.”
Seraphimus' charcoal brown eyes narrowed as she focused intently on the First Son's magnified words.
“Now—you all know well of my sacrifice... but those who know of other sacrifices—are ferried far too swiftly to the Narrow to celebrate it here. Aside from a choice few. And I wish to introduce you to one such noble brother today.” Lexxic could be seen pivoting, facing the Second and Third. His daggers dimmed—and the runes in turn. Thus, his next few words weren't amplified. Rainbow and her friends nevertheless saw him speaking and gesturing to his closest comrades. Within seconds, Azarias saluted and galloped off to the dark entrance.
Rainbow craned her neck, curiously. Her ghostly friends hovered higher—also attempting to see.
“Oh gosh,” Fluttershy stated—without explanation.
Before Rainbow could question what she meant—the answer came trotting back into light, accompanied by the Second. The figure had his head bowed—leafy ears drooping. While the rest of the coliseum was celebratory and vibrant—this sarosian remained dull and lethargic. The reason for this eventually became obvious as Rainbow and her companions recognized his vague features.
“The one we met on patrol earlier.” Fluttershy turned back to look at Rainbow and the others. “Shortly after rendezvousing with Lexxic's company? Remember the scout patrol?”
“Goodness, yes.” Rarity nodded. “That most unfortunate scouting patrol...”
“Wasn't one of them a bug pony?” Pinkie remarked.
“Yes,” Fluttershy remarked sadly. “His close friend.”
“Oh ponyfeathers...” Twilight winced. “Is he one of the 'twelve'?”
“No. Reckon he's here for a different reason entirely,” Applejack added.
“Then what's the 'twelve' all about?” Pinkie asked.
“Shhhh...” Rainbow hissed into the air. “Ears open, girls...”
By now, the stallion had been led to the First Son's side. A slight hush overcame the curious crowd as Azarias backed away, leaving the newcomer and Lexxic to the runic spotlight.
“Greetings brothers, and strong tidings.” Lexxic's soft voice sounded like thunder from the amplifier. He paced slowly around the Bloodwing, keeping a casual distance so as not to add unnecessary menace to the act. “Considering the perils that you have endured, it is understandable that you do not intimately share in this evening's mirth. Nevertheless, your personal courage and the legacy of your noble company deserve to be shared with the ears of our brothers. Please—I implore you—introduce yourself to the Hall of Honor, good friend.”
Spek'kl blinked curiously at the soldier standing in their midst. Hry'skym, reading more into the stallion's body language, remained solemn and patient.
Eventually, the sarosian looked up. Any melancholy in his eyes was burned away by a righteous anger. “I am M'saalt'ym! Of Sixth Root!” His voice caught in the runic amplification. “A loyal scout in service of Sy'tommsyl! Third wing to
Wry'mikym's company... which now... … … only exists in m-me.”
A tense murmur rose through the crowd.
“And what—pray tell—brother, happened to the rest of Wry'mikym's company?”
Saalt took a deep breath and bravely confessed: “They have fallen prey to T'chyrym'lynna!” His fangs flashed in the enchanted torchlight. “Consumed! Mercilessly! By the Flux of T'chyrym's bastard offspring!”
Angry hisses and vitriolic growls rotated around the large Hold. The bass roar was enough to make teeth vibrate within everypony's jaws. Even Spek'kl shook with noticeable unease.
“A most hideous tragedy...” Lexxic slowed in his pacing, coming around to face Saalt—so that his helm reflected a vague splotch of dark velvet. “And just what led to this nefarious turn of events?”
“Our company was performing reconnaissance,” Saalt declared. “We were investigating the burnt hollows past the immediate bleaks, searching for signs of T'chyrym's nests. But before we could uncover any spread of the Flux, we were attacked by V'lym yln N'shydymma...” His muscles tightened indignantly. “The Night Shard's initial volley annihilated half of our company. Wry'mikym—our captain—ordered the rest of us to split up to more properly evade the monolith's artillery. In the hours to follow, I reunited with my fellow Bloodwing... W'y'croww. When we couldn't find living signs of the captain, we followed standard protocol... and flew a return route straight for the Tree of Mothers. That is when the two of us met with the First Son and his First Root company.”
“That you did, indeed,” Lexxic said with a nod of his helm. “And upon meeting—what exactly did we discover...?”
“We discovered... you d-discovered... that... th-that...” Saalt's fangs flashed as his ears pulled back. He lunged forward and hissed the confession with bittersweet fury: “He who I thought was my friend Wy'croww was actually an agent of T'chyrym!!!”
The crowd roared and kicked their hooves with insatiable rage. The air grew rich with heavy breaths and bloodlust. Spek'kl looked surprised while Hry'skym stifled a low growling noise.
Saalt stammered on, embroiled by pain and anguish: “He had been replaced!” his amplified voice cracked. “And I had failed to notice! The Night Shard's attack blinded me, and a bastard child of our most heartless enemy preyed upon my pain and foolishness!” He fell prostrate on four knees and seethed dramatically before the terraces full of judging bodies above. “I have shamed the Blood of the Sons of Nightmares with short-sightedness and frailty! I have survived—yes—but not out of strength or courage! But only through luck and cowardice! I... d-do not belong in this most honorable sanctum!”
As his last few words echoed throughout the chamber, Saalt buried his muzzle into his forelimbs, shuddering visibly. There was no immediate reaction to his outburst—only a dull hush as Lexxic's hoofsteps came closeer to the Bloodwing. Soon, a pale hoof was lifting his chin up. Saalt squinted upwards through fresh tears.
“M'saalt'ym of Wry'mikym's company, Sixth Root, did you not lead this deplorable spy into violent exposure?”
Saalt took a brave breath. He nodded before Lexxic's helm. “I did, brother.”
“And did you not see to the Fluxling's storage within the pit immediately upon our return to the Tree?”
“Ywm, Lexxy'kyn.” He nodded again, sniffling. “As you instructed me.”
“Ah...” Lexxic took a step back; the daggers and their runes floated with him. “And your actions before and after the Night Shard attack—were they not done under strict obedience to protocol and Wry'mikym's commands?”
Saalt gulped. “I... h-have functioned by the oath that we have all taken since we were bloodcolts...” A deep breath. “In adherence to the Book of Saros... and in anticipation of the Narrow.”
“Then your failure, my brother...” Lexxic paced, facing the crowd more than the singular sarosian in question. “...is not a fault of any cowardice. But rather a fault of circumstance. And—even if I were to treat the here and now as a tribunal, which... eheheh... does this look like one?” The air thinned by a few chuckles as he smiled delicately at Saalt. “Any and all fault would be found in the questionable decisions made by your captain, Wry'mikym. But we will not presume to dishonor him. Not here—not ever. His sacrifice has sanctified the honor of his legacy... as has yours...”
Saalt blinked in surprise at Lexxic.
Lexxic slowly shook his head. “No Bloodwing deserves to lose his brother to the consumption of the Flux. And yet—despite even my best gifts to the Dark Vigil, that is something which cannot be entirely prevented. Alas, your comrades' passion has been transfused into poisoned blood. Their spirits—into glass.”
Saalt hung his head again. He shook through spasmic waves of grief. Tear drops stained the dusty floor beneath them.
“But their honor, brother...” Lexxic's fangs showed beneath his helm as he stepped closer. “Their honor... shall remain strong. Powerful. A force to be reckoned with... through you.” He spread his wings and raised his voice. “M'saalt'ym of Sixth Root! From henceforth, you shall bear the legacies of Wry'mikym and his company unto the Narrow! Rejoice—for their rapture shall now be your own.”
Azarias looked over at Hry'skym. He gave a swift nod.
Hry'skym nodded back. The victor of that night's combat limped towards Saalt's prone figure. He brushed Spek'kl's body with one wing as he did so.
Jumping into place, Spek'kl followed along. With more or less grace, both the older and younger sarosian helped Saalt up onto all fours.
“It's an honor to stand by your side, brother,” Hry'skym said with a hearty smirk.
“It's an h-honor,” Spek'kl managed.
A visible wave of strength returned to Saalt's figure. For the first time since entering the arena, he stood proud and resolute. All tears had long dried.
Lexxic tilted his helm towards him. Glinting fangs accompanied the next statement: “Live long. Murder much.”
“H'SAALA THRYMMA WRY'SLUUN!” Azarias sounded off.
Immediately after that, Azarias, Masser, Lexxic—and also Saalt, Hry'skym, and eventually Spek'kl—lifted their fanged faces towards the stars high above the throat of the coliseum. They all hissed at once, making the very heavens shake. This—of course—only intensified as every Bloodwing in the building added to the shrill chorus. There was no conceivable way the upper branches didn't feel something of this magnitude—or so Rainbow and her friends were wincingly forced to conclude.
“Grnnngh...!” Ariel shuddered beside Wildcard. “Do they gotta do that every friggin' time?!” she wheezed, barely discernible.
“I'm prone to agree with her!” Rarity yelped, cursed to cover ears that technically didn't exist. “Why couldn't they just ring bells or something?!”
“I know, right?!?” Pinkie Pie stammered. “Why, this latest outburst is so loud, it didn't even get its own onomatopoeia!”
“Yes, that's—” Rarity did a double-take. “Wait, what?!?”
Sooner than later, the salvo of noise ended. All was drowned out—save for Lexxic who once again soaked up the spotlight:
“It is here in this long-deserved sanctum where we magnify honor that is due.” He paced, tilting his mouth towards the heavens. “It is here in this respectful Hall where we bestow majesty that is earned.” His hooves scuffled to a stop in the dirt. His jaw went steely beneath the helm. “But... on occasion...” The First Son spoke now in a breathy tone, his ears folding back venomously. It drew a hush from the magnificent crowd. “...this place serves as a crucible... where we make necessary and careful observation... of that which is bereft of such laudable qualities.” He pivoted until his helm reflected the runic lights framing the dark entrance to the arena floor. “And we exorcise cowardice of all its putrid qualities... until all that's left is the grit hidden within.”
With that said, Lexxic swung his pale hoof high in the air.
Azarias saw it. The Third nodded, turned tail, and marched straight for the large doorframe in question.
A curious lapse in noise rolled through the entire coliseum. Rows upon rows of sarosians craned their necks, curious to see who was being led into the ring below.
At Rainbow's table, the air was no less quiet. Tense. Uncertain.
Until—“Dear Goddess...” Ariel droned. “What now?”
Wildcard hand-signed: “There have been a bunch of ponies waiting in the adjacent chamber.”
“What—like in the shadows?” Ariel blanched. “You gotta teach me how to see with dark goggles like yours.”
“I think we're about to witness what this arena is truly meant for,” Seraphimus said in a cool tone.
Ariel blinked at her. “What's that supposed to mean?”
But the former Talon Commander said nothing further.
Rainbow glanced silently at her, then at the situation below.
“More bodies are coming,” Fluttershy said. “A group—a cluster of ponies. They're being escorted.”
“Something's arriving with them,” Rarity added. “That strange substance I sensed earlier.”
“With its strange enchantment,” Twilight breathed. “And now that it's coming closer...” She looked at their anchor. “...I'm almost certain it's the same energy I've felt coming from the pit.”
Rainbow's jaw clenched. She leaned forward just as the first of several bodies emerged from the chamber.
Azarias was the first to trot out... followed by a group of muscular guards—numbering about thirty. In between the flanking group of well-armed Bloodwings were twelve of their own brethren. To Rainbow, they looked just like any other sarosian soldiers: proud, dignified, battle-scarred and intimidating. She didn't realize they were actually prisoners until she saw the glint of moonsilver chains binding their wings tightly to their sides.
“That's twelve, alright,” Pinkie Pie murmured.
“Is it just me...?” Twilight remarked. “...or do they look just as confident and fearless as everypony else?”
“It's an act,” Applejack insisted. “They're tryin' to maintain their pride.”
“You sure about that?”
Applejack. “Sure as I am an honest-to-Celestia tree bucker.” She flashed Rainbow a look. “T'ain't like the last few presentations. These fellers ain't in for a good time.”
“Look!” Rarity pointed.
Rainbow and her ghostly companions saw a final wave of sarosians emerging from the shadows. They were unicorns—and they carried with them staves that were mounted with... … … strange shiny objects. It was difficult to make out details, but round-shaped things had been fastened to the poles. They had reflected surfaces and translucent structures, so that the runic light of nearby torches reflected off and through them. What's more, the vertical bodies of the staves were speckled with white dust—almost resembling glitter from afar—and it definitely gave Rainbow a touch of dizziness to witness.
“What is all that?” Pinkie asked.
“Well, the stuff coating the poles are definitely chaos metal fragments,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Even I can tell that much. But...” She looked at Rarity. “...the round things attached to the top?”
“It's difficult to say, darling~” Rarity cooed. “Gemstones? Rubies? I'm attempted to say crystals, but that's a very odd shape for them to take.”
“They're not just stones,” Fluttershy said.
“Huh?” Rarity looked over.
“They're alive.”
“They're alive?”
“That is...” Fluttershy cleared her throat and looked back with a worried expression. “They once were... alive. Or something close to it.” She glanced back at the procession down below. “Before now... I... I-I believe they were in a state to... to be alive... or to make room for something that was alive.”
“That... doesn't make too much sense, sugarcube,” Applejack said.
“They're heads,” Rainbow Dash muttered.
Her ghostly friends glanced at her.
Ariel and Wildcard were likewise taken back.
“Huh?” Ariel remarked.
“Pony heads,” Rainbow said.
Wildcard gestured: “Doesn't look like any kind of ponies I've seen.”
“That's because they don't exist east of the Grand Choke.” Rainbow glanced in Twilight's direction. “But I've seen them before. In Aurum—a place south of Luxmare. And in Equestria...”
“... … ...” Twilight Sparkle looked left... then right. “...the Crystal Empire.” She blinked towards Rainbow Dash. “Crystal ponies.”
“Good grief...!” Rarity covered her muzzle with a sickly expression. “Those are decapitated heads?!?”
Fluttershy quietly nodded.
“But...” Applejack rubbed her scalp. “What are crystal ponies doin' on the Dark Side? Unless...” Her freckled face paled. “They're the Night Shard?!?”
“It would seem that way...” Rainbow Dash muttered.
“Rainbow, I don't understand,” Ariel remarked.
“Keep your eyes open.” Rainbow sat tightly in her seat. “We're all learning at the same time.”
Shriike glanced at the avatar in mid-notes, then back towards the arena below...
...where the procession had come to a complete stop in the dead-center. The escort guard forced the twelve bound soldiers to crowd together. They they stepped back, forming a menacing perimeter around the group, joined by Masser and Azarias and Lexxic. Hry'skym, Saalt, and Spek'kl were motioned to stand close to the Second and Third.
The unicorns with the crystal-mounted poles stood towards the side, patient and resolute in their stance.
All eyes were on the First Son as he stepped fearlessly through the line of guards and approached the twelve prisoners.
“Brothers...!” Lexxic's voice echoed, breaking the silence for the first time in two minutes. He smiled calmly, lingering a bit in place. “...for at the beginning and the end of all things... you are still my brothers...” He paced until he stood before one sarosian in particular. “...would you care to identify yourself to the rest of our peers?” Lexxic's hooves scuffled to a stop. “Per protocol, I shall leave this task to the captain of this company.”
A tense hush dripped off the terraces above. The sarosian in question—a scarred veteran with a steely gaze—looked into Lexxic's helm. With a deep, fearless tone, the stallion spoke into the amplification field of the levitating runes: “I am M'lywthaal'myn, Captain of Second Assault Wing.”
“I see...” Lexxic tilted his chin up. “And what Root does your company belong to, Captain?”
The stallion stood icy still.
Azarias frowned from afar.
Lexxic's daggers glowed brighter as he leaned forward. “An answer would be better given calmly... rather than procured through a scream...”
“Third Root,” M'lywthaal'myn grunted—which immediately summoned groans and hisses from the terraces above. “I command the Second Assault Wing of Third Root.”
“Third Root~!” Lexxic resumed his energetic pacing around the twelve wing-bound soldiers in the center of the arena. “One of the few divisions not called back from the front as of late! A most curious thing, Captain—tell me...” He came to a stop, his helm leaning close to the veteran's battle-weary muzzle once again. “What exactly are you doing so far away from the fight right now?”
M'lywthaal'myn's eyeslits reflected off the headplate, darting. “We were escorted here—to the Tree of Mothers—by an armed detachment from My'spyd'ylm's patrol wings—”
Lexxic's voice overwhelmed the amplification device, nullifying the captain's statement. “A valiant effort, brother, but let us go back to before the Sixth Son so nobly intercepted your unceremonious relocation.”
“The Second Wing did not go anywhere we were not commanded to,” M'lywthaal'myn defended.
“And precisely who gave that command?”
M'lywthaal'myn took a deep breath. As his comrades lowered their heads, he ultimately sputtered: “The Commander of the Third Root.”
As a commotion was already riding throughout the arena, Lexxic leaned forward with a smile. “Would you be so kind as to name the Commander of the Third Root? There are—after all—plenty of young and learning bloodcolts within the Hall of Honor tonight.”
The captain's teeth showed as he finally relented: “Lyw'Malaak.”
Once that name was pronounced—every sarosian in the building stomped their hooves and hissed with a show of angry wings and fangs. The phrase “Ryk Ryk!!! echoed in scathing repetition, rolling up and down the vertical lengths of the coliseum.
Shriike licked her lips, sweating over what to note down and what to skip in her recording. Beside her, Ariel and Wildcard looked anxiously at the rowdy and rowdier crowd. Seraphimus remained cool and observant.
Back down in the arena: “So... Lyw'Malaak of Third Root ordered you to leave the front.” Lexxic's pacing was much slower and contemplative this time. “To go where, exactly?”
“To this location where we stand,” M'lywthaal'myn said.
“Wrong,” Lexxic corrected. “Her agents in the upper branches commanded you to arrive at the Tree of Mothers—no doubt to obscure yourselves as you suckled on the teats of the High Polished.” Bitter laughter echoed as Lexxic marched determinedly towards the captain. “It was I who ordered the Sixth to intercept your cowardly company and bring you here—to the Hall of Honor...”
M'lywthaal'myn threw a piercing gaze into Lexxic's helm. “Which—as I happen to have heard—is not a Tribunal.”
Spiteful hisses and disgruntled groans echoed.
Lexxic's smile was a patient and lingering thing. “Indeed—it is not. But you are a Bloodwing soldier of the Dark Vigil, yes?”
“Affirmative.”
“And who is the Commander of the Bloodwing army? Is it Lyw'Malaak?”
The captain's jaw hardened.
“Your brothers wait for an answer, Second Winger.”
“You, Lexxy'kyn, First Son of Nightmares, are Commander of the Bloodwings.”
“I am the Commander. I am the Sacrifice.” Lexxic leaned in, practically breathing in the captain's face. “I am the Tribunal.” A hiss poured between them, which coalesced into a steely tone: “And while our sons' sons will be the ones to carry victory back unto the Narrow, I am—now and until death—the judge, jury, and executioner of all crimes and misdeeds committed in the field of battle. This is not only sanctified by your beloved matriarchs' Book of Saros, but by the pact of blood we all swore upon foaling. If you disregard that, you disregard your very place in the Narrow. Now tell me—Captain—do you swear fealty to blood or to the High Polished?”
Cold silence.
“It would behoove your entire company to answer me, brother,” Lexxic insisted.
The captain's nostrils flared. M'lywthaal'myn avoided Lexxic's gaze, speaking unto the floor of the arena. “I swear fealty to blood.”
Lexxic's voice boomed as he trotted around the officer and his soldiers. “Then why is it—Captain—that several cycles ago... you abandoned the Outer Brinks Purge Offensive?”
“We had been given a direct order to retreat—”
“By who?!?” Lexxic's voice thundered. “By your Supreme Commander?!” He pointed at his unwieldy headpiece. “Did you see this reflecting the green flame of the Flux? Did I somehow abandon the entire First Branch, fly to the outer brinks alone, and issue the order to withdraw?! Face to face?!?”
“Negative, brother.”
“Ah. So then it was a bastard spawn of T'chyrym! It came and impersonated me and—out of gross incompetence and stupidity—you followed the order of a doppelganger of your Supreme Commander!”
“No, First Son,” M'lywthaal'myn murmured. “It was not deception on behalf of the T'chyrym'lynna.”
“Then who—pray tell—was so damned important that their orders superseded mine... when I had already told the entire forces of the Third Root to purge the hives along the outer brinks?”
The captain spoke firmly, despite the obvious trap being set: “It was Lyw'Malaak's orders that I followed,” he said. “And my soldiers followed mine.”
Yet again, a round of thunderous protest roared up and down the coliseum.
Bolstered by the clamor, Lexxic resumed pacing around the captain in question. “So... it was cowardice that led you to defy my orders.”
“No...” M'lywthaal'myn scowled at the First Son. “It was the chain of command that compelled me—out of duty.”
Lexxic pointed without looking at him. “Your duty is to your blood—not to the elders.”
“Without a chain of command, our entire army falls apart—”
“Into what... something different than the soul-less machine that has ground the souls of our forefathers into fuel for the enemy, generation after generation?” Lexxic swiveled to face the captain. “That is not collapse, brother. That is metamorphosis.” His fangs showed as his projected voice became raspy with passionate intent. “The Third Root is the High Polished's final hoofhold on what they used to control in its entirety. The matriarchs—they care nothing about blood... or the Narrow... or even victory. All they value... is control itself.”
“What I did...” By now, M'lywthaal'myn was addressing his words to every soul in the coliseum looming above them. “...was in the best interest of my soldiers. My brothers—in blood as well as in the name of Saros!”
“What you did... was the impotent stroke of a useless pawn...” Lexxic tilted his head upwards. “...a pawn of Lyw'Malaak's. For her—it was a stunt. A show of misguided power. And while it may have saved the skin and bones of your brothers from brushing with the Flux, it opened a hole in the Third Root's offensive line. The hives—uncontested and unpurged—spawned more of T'chyrym's bastard children... … ...and they overwhelmed the frontline camps of the outer brinks within half a cycle. Hundreds... thousands of our noble brothers in blood—slain and consumed by our enemy—all because you abandoned your post... to satisfy the ego of a sycophantic puppet of the higher branches.”
A cold hush.
After a long period of silence, M'lywthaal'myn faced Lexxic directly. “I would gladly throw my meat and bones at the Flux on any occasion. To die in battle—serving the pact of blood—is a soldier's greatest honor. But what I did... what I made my company do... I did for the sake of order.”
“Oh brother...” Lexxic chuckled bitterly. “...even now, you refuse to admit the error in your ways?”
The captain glared back. “I refuse to admit to a future act in some political stage pageant.”
“Hah!” Lexxic raised his grinning head up, laughing into the amplification field. “Hah haaaaaah!!” He flung a hoof towards the captain and his flinching subordinates. “Cowardiiiice!”
“First Son, if not my company, then there are hundreds more who also—”
“First—he flees from a victorious purge! Now—he flees from conviction!” Lexxic trotted sharply around the group. “Yes—brother—there may many others who make mistakes, but none within memory that so heinously weaken the cause! The Sarcophagus and its treasure is within grasp, and the only impediment is incompetence from within, not the crumbling menace from beyond!” His daggers glowed as they clustered closer together in the air, causing a whining pitch to crackle through the magical amplification. “Well, there is no room for cowardice in the Hall of Honor—or within the entire Vigil, for that matter! If you cannot muster the strength to purge...” He twirled about, aiming all five daggers at the exposed dozen. “...then what respect for the pact prevents you from being purged—?!?”
All eleven of M'lywthaal'myn's soldiers flinched dramatically. The Captain stood before them with a panicked expression. “WAIT!!!”
Rainbow Dash leaned forward, blinking rapidly. For the entire arena had just frozen dead upon the echo of the captain's exclamation.
Lexxic's voice dripped into it, calm as a babbling brook: “Unless...” Fangs from a knowing smile glinted in the daggers' glow. “...there remains some strength and courage in the bodies... that can yet carry honor from here to the Narrow.”
M'lywthaal'myn panted and panted. He looked up at the thousands in attendance, gazing down at him. At his sweat and his pale expression. Closing his eyes, the officer took a deep breath, and boldly stated: “On behalf of myself and my brothers... I would like to claim the right to W'ynlppa lysm thy'rym'lykk.”
Rainbow and her ghostly companions turned their gaze to Lexxic.
“Blood by Struggle...” Lexxic stood tall... but he did lower the hover of his daggers as his voice took on a calmer tone. Albeit—not a surprised one. “You do know—of course—that as the prime overseer in the room, it is my right—by blood—to choose the precise method by which the 'struggle' earns retribution.”
“Ywm, Lexxy'kyn.”
Slowly, a slick grin formed under the commander's tombstonesque helm. “Then bless the Narrow that I have already prepared an apt method for your requested ritual.” He turned towards Azarias in the distance... and nodded.
Azarias didn't even nod back; his movement towards the dark entrance to the arena was swift and purposeful. As he moved, the unicorns with the strange staves moved noticeably away from the entrance. At the same time, Masser trotted over towards Saalt, Hry'skym, and Spek'kl. The Third murmured something to them, then led them towards the far wall of the arena.
Wildcard glanced at the movement, then at Lexxic's face-off with M'lywthaal'myn. He talon-signed: “I cannot tell what is happening.”
“Maybe... some more ponies are arriving...?” Ariel looked at Rainbow Dash.
“Girls?” The petite pegasus beckoned her ghostly friends. “Any reads?”
“Uhm...” Fluttershy chewed her bottom lip. “Something large is coming.”
Applejack gulped. “And a mite bit angry too...”
“HRESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHAAAA!!!”
Rainbow Dash did a double-take. Even Seraphimus was struck curious by the noise. Both stood up as one, watching as a mass of writhing shadows emerged from the dark entrance.
“Hooooo boyoooo...!” Pinkie Pie floated backwards, gnawing on her front fetlocks as her ears twitched. “It's never a good thing when something lets out a good loud 'HRESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHAAAA!!!'”
Sure enough, as she said this, a behemoth... something exited onto the bottom floor of the arena. It did not do so under its own volition; no less than twenty able-bodied Bloodwing warriors yanked and pulled at heavy metal chains that were affixed to the limbs, limbs, limbs, limbs of the beast. Much like many of the wildlife that dwelt on the Dark Side—Rainbow Dash couldn't even begin to recognize its species. As best as she was able to discern, it was a ginormous mutant combination of ghastly organisms: something akin to a mix of a preying mantis and a tail-less whip scorpion. It walked on six... no... eight... ten... perhaps even twelve legs. As it heaved and writhed in resistance to the chains, several of those legs turned out to be arms: massive clawed pincers that looked strong enough to snap buffalo in half. Somewhere in the chitinous center of that writhing array of barbed feelers, a triangular maw unfolded, revealing a trio of venomous beaks that lashed outward at the air with penetrating shrieks. The chains affixed to the hulking monster's limbs glowed with noticeable runic power—a feeble guard at best... and one that was very likely soon to be disenchanted.
“Whelp...” Ariel gulped. “It's a good thing Flynn's not here.”
“It sucks that anyone is here,” Rainbow Dash muttered, still gaping at the size of the beast. “That freakazoid could totally rip apart the entire arena's occupancy.”
“Perhaps that is the point,” Seraphimus said coldly, summoning a goggled glance from Wildcard.
Despite the group's apprehension, the Hall of Honor was anything but distressed by this entrance. The seats around and above Rainbow Dash erupted with bloodthirsty shouts and rhythmic chanting:
“W'YNLPPA!!!”
“W'YNLPPA!!!”
“W'YNLPPA!!!”
M'lywthaal'myn and his fellow soldiers turned to face the shackled beast with mixed faces of shock, horror, and determination. Their captain kept himself anchored in place between the monster and his company.
“HRESSSSSSSSH!!!” The creature shook left and right, lifting a few of the startled sarosians by the lengths of their chains. But the other soldiers grunted and pulled harder, keeping the shackled beast in place by the fetters' enchantment. The rest of the Bloodwings landed gracefully and pulled hard, forcing the beast to lower into a submissive stance.
“The captain of the Cowardly Twelve has requested his rite to w'ynlppa lysm thy'rym'lykk!!!” Lexxic's voice crackled back into focus as he stood noticeably between the beast and the creature. “And he shall be granted that honor... assuming there is any left within the whole lot of them to salvage.” His helm glistened with the glow from the shackles' runes. “One way or another, the Sons of Nightmares will grow stronger from it.”
M'lywthaal'myn stood tall with a stone-hard expression. “We shall not waste this opportunity.”
Lexxic waved towards Azarias—who was already returning to the arena with a company of soldiers: dragging spears, polearms, and axes towards the twelve soldiers. “Your blood will be the judge of that.”
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Politics, how tiresome.
Lexxic forgave Salt for following his commander's orders, but the Twelve are damned because they followed their Root commanders orders?
How fucking hypocritical.
M'lywthaal'myn sees it for exactly what it is, political posturing.
I hope we get to meet Lyw'Malaak, something tells me she'd be good company. If she's giving retreat orders, she actually might just give a shit about her troops wellbeing.
Through the path long forgotten, into the darkness long begotten. Ofolrodi.
I'm guessing something like this happened?
Lexxy'kyn noticed me. uwu ~Spek'kl
Ahh yes, the oh so friendly reminder that Lexxic is the Bloodwing equivalent of Erwin Rommel...except with a dash of commanding fear
Ahh, bloodwing politics. as their name implies, it is very bloody.
Wait, she's talking to him now? That was almost friendly, not a singly glare or hard word to be found.
So basically, the army commander ordered a retreat, and only one team followed her orders and survived, while the rest were overrun and devoured -- and Lexx is blaming the ones that followed orders to avoid admitting the offensive was a suicidal mistake o his part.
10572477
Suicidal mistake, or intentional sacrifice of the one mare commander he wanted removed?
Lexxic's true master plan: the enemy can't kill us if I kill us first.
Lexxic is either actually a shit commander who's plan got a lot of people needlessly killed and has just gotten insanely lucky all before this; or getting everyone killed like that and blaming the only ones smart enough to retreat was all part of some plan of his. Likely the second one.
If the rest of the elements of harmony return to the vanilla zone, would The Narrow where Lexxic wants to return the bats to be the brownie zone?
I am seeing a hint of the imperial Japanese army here, where junior officers would obey the "spirit" of their orders, instead of their actual orders, leading to a lot of messes for Japan. These include such as the entire war they had with China, and numerous atrocities that I am not going to list any of here (nsfw). The difference here is that Lexxic is actually ENCOURAGING such behavior. M'lywthaal'myn is correct, if such keeps up Lexxic will find himself with a useless undisciplined mob, not a powerful army. The Blood Wings are on the path to self destruction, and Lexxic either doesn't know or doesn't care.
10573099
dunno, it seems like Lexxic gave a clear order to purge the hives to prevent them from rapidly propagating all over the place (defend the frontline even with their own lifes). For good reason, if the description of the consequences is to be believed.
And an insubordinate commander (malaak) gave a retreat signal. So it was her who disrupted order and brought chaos to the frontlines, not Lexxic.
Who's ready for Dash jumping in to save the guy when he's about to die?
10573159
That doesn't change the fact that failing to follow the chain of command will lead to an undisciplined mob. If it is true that she disobeyed Lexxic and gave contradictory orders, then he should have gone after the one that gave those orders, NOT the subordinates that followed them. Her orders were legal (in the Hague convention sense) and thus should have been obeyed. I grant you that when to follow and not to follow orders, who is responsible when, and what should be done is by no means a simple thing to parse out. Hell I would say it is above my paygrade. That is for lawyers, philosophers, leaders and followers to do so.
But right now what Lexxic is doing is not enforcing discipline, what he is doing is encouraging soldiers to disobey orders that they do not like, which conveniently is the orders that his superiors and those that support said superiors would give, by enforcing a standard of 'purity' and 'honor'. He does not want an army, he wants a cult. A force that will obey without question. As a previous reviewer noted here 10572347, Lexxic forgave one soul for following bad orders, but is penalizing the Twelve for following questionable orders. The difference being that one served his purposes, and the other did not. In a way it is similar to what the Republican party did to their low information voters. Unfortunately in that case, the inmates took over the asylum, and now the Republican party can no longer control them, and it will likely happen in Lexxic's case too.
As long as Lexxic is seen as a charismatic, successful general that brings greatness his army will follow him to the ends of the plane and beyond. But the second he stops giving them what they want, the second he tries to pull back on the leash that tethers them, the very second someone superficially 'more Lexxic' than he is comes along and whispers sweet nothings in their ear, his cult will dump him and embrace their new messiah. He probably knows this, and has taken steps to avoid such a fate.
Wildcard wears his sunglasses
at nighton the Dark Side.10572477
This checks out honestly - keeping morale up is kinda his thing, so he has to find a scapegoat when he makes a mistake so the troops don't lose faith in him.
As if normal praying mantis wasn't stuff of nightmares.
And somehow you made it even worse. That's a talent.
Kill that thing with fire!
Where's a dragon when you need one?
If I didn’t already dislike Lexxic, i definitely do now.
I have a feeling that this applies more to Lexxic than the Matriarchs.
I really enjoyed this chapter, it really immerses you into the Bloodwings' culture.
Nitpicking: the Crystal Empire hadn't reappeared yet when Rainbow left. It did so later, if I remember correctly (and I don't think Sombra has returned in this timeline?). Anyway, I suppose it's not impossible she's seen crystal ponies in Equestria, but not in the Empire.
10576817
If I remember right, It was mentioned in one of the talks with Luna that the Crystal Empire had returned and that Sombra was defeated by Shining and Cadance.
I'm surprised that more people are not bringing up the revelation that the night shard are crystal ponies, that legitimately surprised me.
Reading has never been so loud in my head before
Lexxic aint punishing the superior officer who gave theorder?
Poliitics?
As for the monster, its a Chaos Tatzlewyrm?
Well, this was crazy. And now I need to know what happens next. Lucky for me, I waited so long that the next chapter's out. See ya on the other side.
Oh dear....
10578384
Why should we be surprised about something that was already revealed 291 chapters earlier?
Okay, so I was sort of right about there being a fight in the trial, but a big chaos monster was unexpected...is that the big chaos monster that they milked for...milk, or is it some other monster they hunted for game?
Also,...I’m really getting some Roman vibes coming off of Lexxic and the Bloodwings right now, and I can also see what somebody else said about the Japanese empire around the 1930s to the end of WWII. A lot of brutal things were done those times.
Also, Night Shard are crystal ponies...huh.…
Malaak gave that order for a reason. She had to be aware of the situation, to know what company to pull back and when. I suspect Lexxic knew this reason, and intercepted them specifically to prevent them from performing their intended function.
This will not strengthen the bloodwings, this isn't even for them. It's to chip away at Malaak's power by abusing loopholes.
As for the crystal pony thing... Whew, that explains some things but brings up a lot more questions.
What this chapter has made clear to me is that Lexxic will attempt a coup.
If his apparent beliefs are genuine, he may not be planning on it, or at least not on starting it. But his beliefs and ambitions will ultimately bring him to a place where he will feel as if he has no other options. If the matriarchs attempt to more overtly curb his authority, which they will ultimately have to in order to try to keep their relative positions in the social hierarchy, it will begin a firestorm the like of which no sarosian this side of the plane has ever seen.
And that in turn will be absolutely catastrophic to their military position. A coup would be bad enough in terms of disruption, but if it triggers a civil war, then any hope of military triumph will vanish utterly.
One wonders how clearly the Herald and Rainbow Dash can understand this situation...