The blue-bodied pegasus looked all around before slipping under the back entrance to a gaudy tent set apart from the others in the Crystal Army camp. He looked around quickly, annoyed not for the first time at his ex-commander’s propensity to travel heavy with unnecessary pomp and trinkets. Everywhere there were spoils taken from campaigns - pelts from those in Yakyakistan unfortunate enough to have tried to defend their homeland from Sombra’s armies. They lined the floor of the tent from corner to corner, held down in place by several reclining platforms, gold-gilt chamber pots and a divan elaborate enough to carry one as highborn as their King - if he had been as possession-obsessed as Bomber had been.

Taking a deep breath to center himself and still the nervous twitch of his wings, Gale Force thought back to the last time he and Night had both talked in private. It was just last evening. Here yesterday, gone today. Such was war. Spying a pair of gold and silver goblets from their prior evening’s repast, Gale sighed, picking one up. “You stupid bastard,” he sighed. “Did you have to seriously take leave of your senses so badly when you saw - ”

Eyes scanning the area of more personal effects as he contemplated Night’s foolishness, he saw a trinket box. “Yes!” the pegasus whispered, going to it, and grabbing an ear clip from a mirrored tray. “That was the easy part,” he sighed, trotting back the way he came.

He raised the tent’s back flap once again as he heard the voices of Iron Blade and Terrain outside.

“We shouldn’t be long, Commander,” a stallion said outside, closer to the dead Lieutenant’s tent than Gale Force was comfortable hearing.

“Good,” Iron Blade replied. “I can give you no estimate on how long Gale Force’s initiation will take. It depends on if he dies quickly or gives us a fair gallop for our bits.”

The pegasus shivered, as disturbed by his Commander’s casual tone as the implications of his words. Wasting no time, Force ducked under the tent flap, it settling back into place just as Iron Blade opened the front and trotted in.

It was a somber army of mares that trudged on ever Northwards, towards the stallions that hunted them. Word of Chakra’s hideous transfiguration and the warning message had done its work well to spread fear among the ranks. The pony guards surrounding their Queen had been scaled back slightly, but were still in evidence. Neris walked alongside her, along with the other Councilmares. Quiet Hoof was on her other side.

“He did this on purpose,” Queen Ainippe told them as they advanced, her tone even and measured, the barest hint of bitterness underlying it. She wrinkled her nose. “The scent of fear is mild among them, but there. It affected our sisters profoundly!”

“Yes,” Neris agreed. “And if this creature feeds on fear - “

Ainippe nodded grimly.

“It will give him more power.” Quiet Hoof’s eyes widened. “Oh Goddess, that is why he’s doing it, isn’t it?”

“There is one who will not fear him, even though she should,” the older councilmare said beside them. “We should call upon her to bolster their courage.”

“Quiet, get me Xena,” the Queen instructed, turning to the earth pony. The scout nodded and went off. When she had left, the Marazon Queen raised her head. “We shall fight fear with confidence and the power of a mare well-trained and fearless.”

Despite their differences, Neris smiled. “A wise move,” she said simply. “Still, I am perplexed by something, Your Highness.”

Ainippe looked to her. “Yes?”

“How did this King of Fear know Nyx was at the Temple while we were at Mirror Lake? Do we have a traitor in our midst?”

“Doubtful,” the Queen shook her head. She glanced to her sides, to the faces of their sisters. All had hard looks of determination borne of mares who at the least had no used for stallions and at the most, hated them for deeply personal reasons. “Every filly born a Marazon who chose to stay with us after their attaining their first estrus and those who came to us because they were traumatized by a stallion, would rather die than consort with their kind ever again. No, I suspect it is for simpler reasons than that.”

Quiet Hoof returned with a copper and leather-clad mare who’s chestnut hide blended well into the brown leather jerkin she wore in place of the Marazon’s traditional body armor. Her mane and tail were a slightly lighter, almond shade with copper beads intertwined throughout them. A chakram of silver with copper etchings glittered in the sun, secured to her forearms by a special clip bolted to her armor. Her eyes were strikingly pale blue and intense. She bowed her head before the Queen, falling into step with her at her side.

“Xena,” she acknowledged her in turn. “We have a special task for you whilst we travel. A moment, if you will." Ainippe’s attention went back to the elder councilmare. “Nay, Neris, we are dealing with a demon, to answer your question. Pure and simple. A demon in pony skin.”

It was a small contingent of a dozen plus two stallions that crossed the plains eastward and southerly, led by the crystal army scouts Sure Step, Terrain and the escort group’s leader, Dark Horse. With only one pegasus to provide ariel warning of advance scouts from the Marazon army and virtually no cover across the flatlands, all were on extreme edge. They would not have far to go before they got back to the spot where the Marazons were buried, but it might take a while for their enemy’s advance scouts to catch up to them, which is what the stallions were hoping for if the Marazon army was immediately behind them. While the males were all seasoned fighters, with the exception of Sure Step and Terrain, none wanted their tiny numbers to be up against hundreds of angry mares with no backup.

It was a relief to at last come upon the bodies of Night Bomber and the Marazon scouts. The party rested while waiting for the pegasus to return with news of their enemy’s position. To pass the time and tension, Sure Step and Terrain talked.

“Terrain, I have been wanting to ask you how you ever survived the first two campaigns,” the scout ventured after they ran out of smaller talk.

The palomino smiled slightly. “His Highness gave me an - advantage, shall we say?”

Step’s head bobbed in curiosity. “Yes, go on.”

“You may have a chance to witness it firsthand before this mission is over,” the earth pony grinned, not giving away and details.

“Oh, c’mon!” the scout laughed. “Tell me! We lost good stallions to those campaigns. Entire armies wiped out.”

“Mmmm...maybe,” Terrain shrugged.

Step’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean ‘maybe’? Maybe you’ll show me or maybe they were wiped out?”

The palomino laughed. “I see now why you are a scout, Step. Better reign in that curiosity or it’ll get you killed.”

“Oh, there is a healthy dose of fear that keeps me alive, believe me,” Step laughed in turn.

“How did you end up a scout then?” Terrain turned the line of questions back at him.

“I was always hiding from my sisters. When they wanted to ‘play’, they were relentless. I learned pretty quickly to avoid them when they wanted to humiliate me with forcing me to wear their underpinnings.”

Terrain laughed heartily. “You must tell me more on the return - “

He was interrupted when their pegasus scout shot down from the skies, nearly clipping their heads. “Hey - ” the earth pony began to complain.

The small band of stallions with them closed in quickly. Their leader asked the pegasus where the Marazons were and as luck would have it, they were still an hour away. Sure Step breathed out a deep sigh of relief. “Oh thank the darkness!”

“Will they see their fallen scouts on their current course?” Terrain asked.

“If they stay it, then yes,” the pegasus told them. “There is no deviation in the course they have run so far and no obstacles between here and there. Their tracks run a fairly straight course back to their army.”

“We can go back to camp then?” Sure Step asked.

Terrain shook his head. “No such luck, I’m afraid. We have to stay to make sure they will see them.”

Despite knowing this and having been prepared, there was a sullen silence in the small group. It seemed a thankless task with no glory and the promise of little action - everything not to their tastes. With no other choice, they settled in, resting up, even the pegasus, though he took back to the skies ever so often to recheck the enemy position.

While they waited, many of the soldiers went one-by-one or in pairs to admire the handiwork of their King’s makeshift crystal tomb for the fallen Marazons. It was twice the height of the stallions - a transparent, smoky quartz construct designed to keep the predators and buzzards away from the carcasses, effectively protecting them until their sisters could retrieve them for a proper Marazon warrioress’s funeral. It bore an etched relief of King Sombra’s crest rising from crystals, so there would be no doubt in the mare’s minds who had taken their sister’s lives once they arrived.

Night Bomber’s body lay outside it, without burial - the ultimate, final insult to a warrior who had also been a traitor to his Highness. Fortunately it had been less than a day since his death and the carrion birds had only recently discovered it, so Sombra’s forces were spared the stench of rotting flesh. The younger stallions failed to catch the significance of the lack of burial, so the more seasoned fighters explained it to them. It impressed them that their king paid such attention to details both in the crystal tomb and in the reasons behind the ex Lieutenant’s fate. No doubt the older ponies knew this and had seen the opportunity to teach them respect for the King of the Crystal Empire - respect that would translate into the loyalty demanded of them that would in turn extend their lives and allow them to share in the spoils of this peculiar campaign.

Closer to the hour being upon them, Sure Step started to get nervous. He approached Terrain and the warrior’s leader, Dark Horse, who had been conferring more and more as time had drug on. “Shouldn’t be we going before we’re spotted?” he asked them.

Dark placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Nay, my skittish scout,” he shook his head. “We are to stay until they arrive.”

Step looked to Terrain almost in a panic. “What?!?” he nearly squeaked. “But - “

“King’s and Blade’s orders, we’re afraid,” the palomino confirmed.

“Why didn’t you say something before now?” the earth scout whinnied crossly.

“To spare your nerves, Step!” Terrain laughed, slapping him on the flank. Laughter from the other stallions echoed behind him. Sure Step facehoofed himself hard for letting his ill ease show to these battle-hardened stallions.

“Scouts in range!” came the pegasus’s call from a short distance above. The crystal army stallions came alert and all eyes went to the horizon where the figures of the mares could be seen galloping towards them.

Sure Step squinted against the sun, straining to see their numbers more clearly. “Wait,” he said slowly. “There’s only four of them.”

Terrain and Dark exchanged smirks. “Yeah,” Dark agreed.

“Against a dozen of us,” the scout went on.

“Told you there was no reason to worry,” the warrior pony teased.

“No you didn’t!”

As soon as the mares could also count their numbers, they slowed, recovering from their long flight. The stallions looked them over as they came closer over the plains.

“They are lovely!” one soldier was heard to say.

“Well-toned from the look of them,” another agreed.

“This won’t be much of a fight,” another said. “More like a tryst!”

The stallions laughed at this as the four mares approached cautiously, the two warriors on alert, though having not drawn their swords yet. The other two - a unicorn and pegasus, were also alert, but in a more low key sort of way.

Then, when the winds on the plains shifted, the subtle scent of estrus hit them. Having been deprived of mares for months, their bodies had an instant reaction that at once embarrassed and excited them no end.

“You have something of ours, stallions,” one female, a tan bodied, white-maned beauty spoke up, distracting them from their stirring stallionhoods.

Dark Horse grinned. “King Sombra sends you greetings, lovely ones,” he began, bowing in a gracious, yet slightly mocking manner.

The two Marazon warriors exchanged looks with the other two mares behind them, hardly believing what they were hearing. They laughed, then returned their attention to the males. “Excuse us?” the head mare replied.

“Do we amuse you?” Dark asked. He gestured towards the crystal tomb. “I do not think you will jest so after you retrieve your fallen comrades.”

None of the mares moved to inspect the structure. They had seen it approaching and were not so easily distracted.

During this exchange, Terrain had pulled Sure Step aside, standing just slightly away from the others. He appeared tense to the scout for reasons other than the current encounter could justify.

“This is no matter of jest, stallion,” the head mare replied. “You merely appear rather unnecessarily silver-tongued, as if you believe flattering words will get you favors.”

“We appreciate they were protected from predators. Apparently your king has more manners than yourselves,” the unicorn added, coming forward to stand with her sisters. She looked back to their healer. “Soothing Touch, I fear your services were needlessly hoped for. Go make sure this not a trap.”

“Yes, Outback,” Touch replied, turning to do as requested of her.

While she was cautiously inspecting the crystal structure, the warrior mares and unicorn studied the stallions before them. They were well-muscled and in fit condition, as had been expected. Under circumstances not dictated by war, they still would have ignored these males primal reaction to their pheromones and spurned them as unacceptable breeding stock even if they had been more handsome and not borne visible scars from battle. The females shook their heads and snorted in rejection even before they realized they were reacting just as primally to the stallions unwanted advances.

“‘touch?” the unicorn called out to their healer.

“Oh we will,” one of the stallions by Dark Horse’s side replied, eliciting laughter from his fellows. “And more,” the tactless one finished. They all enjoyed the joke at the mares expense, all sharing the jest except Terrain and Sure Step.

Meanwhile, behind them, Soothing Touch pressed the king’s insignia on the surface of the tomb and the walls dissolved, exposing their fallen sisters. “So far, no trap,” she reported back, her throat tightening at the sight of the mares who were beyond her ability to heal now.

Outback looked to the two stallions standing off to the side. “You hold your tongues well,” she told them. “Do you honor our leader’s wishes to go through with this return of our sisters with no further harm to either of our parties during this encounter?”

Terrain bowed slightly, tapping Sure Step’s side to do the same. He hastily followed his fellow stallion’s example. “We do, fair ones,” he replied carefully, looking up and into their eyes again. “All life is sacred, not to be defiled against thy wills.”

Touch nodded, satisfied with his reply. During this exchange the other crystal warriors had begun to surround the three mares.

“You misunderstand our intentions, lovely ones,” the leader elaborated, loosely holding his sword at his side. “You shall have your dead - after we have you. And after all, how are we to address you not knowing all your names?” The other stallions agreed with their leader, several tossing their heads in excitement at his words.

"I want the amber one,” one male said, licking his lips, obviously more excited than the others.

The three mares narrowed their eyes or rolled them in disgust. They raised their swords. Their leader smiled grimly. “You will have our names, pigs, before we send you to Tartarus. Remember for the last few seconds of life you have that Outback has promised you this…”

Hours later back at the Crystal Army camp…

“Come,” King Sombra called out.

Captain Iron Blade stepped in, bowing before approaching. Sombra waved him at ease.

“You look refreshed, Blade,” the king grunted in amusement.

The red stallion’s magic was hovering a towel behind his ears, drying the last of his body. “Can’t say anypony will want to take a dip in that river we bathed in for at least half a day. We spilled as much blood and sweat into it as we did during Gale Force’s initiation.”

“Indeed - a good run, but you and they need some rest before we take on the mares. Be certain you get it.” he paused, considering something. “We did not get a chance to discuss what you may have found in Night Bomber’s tent after the scouts left on their mission.”

“Beyond a display of gaudiness and materialism that would shame the Saddle Arabians, nothing that could be called suspicious or noteworthy,” Blade shrugged. “I see no reason to deny its spoils to his successor to do with as he sees fit.”

“Hmmm...very well. Any word from our scouts?” Sombra inquired, changing the subject.

The captain shook his head. “No, and that is peculiar. They should have been back by now. I sent word through the army to be ready in case their long absence is a bad sign.”

“Very good.”

“The scouts have returned!” somepony yelled outside.

Sombra rose, heading for the tent’s entrance. Wordlessly the two stallions stepped out to greet them.

There was a ripple of unease as Sure Step and Terrain were escorted into the main encampment. As Sombra and Blade approached them, they could see they were bruised and bloodied, their sides heaving with the exertion of galloping and Step had a noticeable limp. The two scouts were given seats and water while several medics came to inspect their wounds. A small crowd of Lieutenants cleaned up from their ceremony, gathered as well, curious. When the scouting party saw their Commander and King approach, they stood, but Sure’s leg buckled out from under him and Iron Blade waved him back down as the medics assisted him in getting off his hooves again.

“So much for a simple exchange,” the Commander muttered in Sombra’s direction. He turned to the stallions. “What happened?”

“The Marazon scouts arrived and the exchange was going well until Dark Horse decided that raping them was part of the deal for them to get their dead back,” Terrain spat in disgust.

“They took no mild offense at that,” Sure added, biting his lip as his wounds were cleaned and bandaged.

Blade looked in the direction they had come. “And you two are the only ones left? How many were in their party?”

“Four, sire - and one was a medic,” Step replied.

“Four?” Blade’s eyes widened. “A dozen warriors were beat by four, no three mares?!?”

“They slaughtered them, sir,” the wounded scout added. “At first the stallions thought they could go easy on them to save something for their fun later, but,” he shook his head.

“A stupid and fatal error,” King Sombra rumbled, shaking his head.

“They are faster and much more agile than us, Sire,” Step warned them all.

“And exceedingly vicious when angered,” Terrain added.

Blade turned to the palomino. “How did you two survive?”

“We did not antagonize them, Commander,” he replied. “I and Sure Step physically distanced ourselves from the others, and,” he rolled his front left shoulder gingerly, testing it, hissing when it protested. “when they asked if we were a party to those who wanted to assault them, I told them we were not, that we honored our King’s wishes to merely return their dead.”

“So they went easy on us,” Step sighed. “Didn’t feel like it at the time, but considering the circumstances…” he trailed off.

“It is just as well Dark Horse did not return,” Blade rumbled, angered. “I’d have killed him if he’d survived.”

Step and Terrain looked at each other with a profoundly uncomfortable look.

“What?” the red stallion asked them, catching their discomfort.

Terrain sighed heavily and his companion looked as if he might become ill. The palomino reached for a pouch he had been carrying. “Well, Commander, if you wish to punish him further, they did allow us to bring him back…” He opened the pouch and drew out the head of Dark Horse, a surprised look still etched into his dead features.