Loud hoofsteps sounded through the hallways, bringing Tercio back to consciousness with a groggy start. He was moving, but not of his own will, bouncing up and down in the steady rhythm of a pony's canter. Marble floors passed by, seemingly inches from his face. It took a moment to realize he was being carried, and as he gained control of himself once more noticed the orange coat of his fellow praetorian in the gaps of his armor. Feathery wings brushed against his arms, folded against the pony's side.

"...Morning Star? What in the world--"

"Oh, good, you're awake," Morning Star said, coming to a stop. "It would be appreciated if you could walk the rest of the way." Tercio's arms and knees had been dragging along the ground, and he rubbed them as he stood up from his carried position. "Gods, but you're heavy! This is the last time I drag your ass out of the throne room, got it?"

His armor and weapons were back on his person, strapped down just a bit too tight for comfort.

"What do you mean, dragged out of the throne room?"

"Did I misspeak?"

"No, sorry. I'm just surprised to be out here. The last thing I remember was Princess Celestia saying...oh. I think I know what happened..."

"I don't think you do, human. And I wish I didn't."

Tercio felt a sudden rush of panic overtake him, if only for a moment.

"You saw it happen? I didn't hurt her, did I? Oh, gods..."

"Only the end of it. And no, the princess is fine. I heard a lot of noise coming from the throne room, so I took a look inside. You can imagine my surprise when I saw you attempting to do to Princess Celestia what you did to Polaris. Or worse."

Tercio swore. "I was really hoping no one else would have to see me that way. I take it the princess told you about what happened?"

"She only said she was attempting to figure out something. Something about the...how did she put it?...'other person' inside of you. I don't really understand, but she was insistent I bring you back to your bunk."

"Oh." Embarrassed and ashamed that he'd lost control of himself again, especially with Morning Star there to see the result, Tercio was unsure of what to say. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but if you could, you know..."

"Don't worry," Morning Star countered, leaning his spear against the wall, "I'm not going to say anything. The princess asked the same thing of me."

"Thank you," Tercio replied with a relieved breath.

"Though I must admit, I've no idea why you put yourself in such a situation in the first place. If you really do lose yourself, as you've said, that's something you should make your fellow soldiers aware of before you put the princess in danger."

"She was never in danger," Tercio insisted.

"She certainly looked like it when I came in."

"I would not have agreed to such a thing if I thought she would be harmed!" His voice echoed through the halls, and he had to calm himself before continuing. "Listen, I don't know why I have this 'other person', but I do. Now that we know what causes it to come forth, we can work to avoid it, or even negate it entirely. I needed help, and I hoped the princess could oblige. That's why I asked you to fake that entry in the ledger, Star."

Morning Star was not pleased, but had to admit the situation warranted the risks.

"Fine. Maybe you needed help. But do not make this a habit, understood? I am not going to lie for your sake again. As is, I had to tell any curious onlookers that you were taken by a sudden fit of illness as I dragged your unconscious form down the hallways. The princess had a pair of Royal Guard stallions take over for the remainder of our shift, so at least Stonewall won't be on our asses for leaving our posts." Morning Star motioned to Tercio's mouth and chin, which was stained a dark red by dried blood. "We should get you to the bath house so you can clean yourself up. If the imperator sees you like this we'll both have a lot of explaining to do."

It had been a long night for Lacertus Praxis. Longer than any in recent memory. Three decades of profit could buy a stallion a lot of things on his final night on earth, and he'd spent without pause -- the finest wines, the richest foods, the youngest whores. One last celebration of the pleasures of coin and flesh, decadence he'd earned in blood, both his and his prey's. And yet, through it all, he kept his wit as sharp as his blade. His mind remained clear through the alcohol and the sex and the long hours that had passed upon his return home. There was no room to falter. There was only the hunt.

Fitting, he thought, that his last kill should be his greatest. For many years his name had been spoken in hushed tones across the known world, a reputation brought on by his unwavering devotion to the kill and the brutality with which he carried it out. Ponies averted their eyes whenever he passed. They whispered words like 'murderer', 'killer', 'criminal' when they thought he could not hear them. Some thought he was a servant of the nine hells. He let them have their little slanders and ridiculous theories. At the end of the day it only served to raise his reputation, which meant higher prices for his particular set of skills.

All of this he reflected on in the pre-dawn hours, comfortable in the estate he'd lived in for many years. Candle light flickered off the armor and weapons splayed out upon the ground. They were as much a part of him as his own beating heart, the culmination of countless contracts given life in thick, black leather and silvery, polished steel. Expensive amasec swirled in his chalice as he thought upon each one.

His helm, an unblinking visage of a roaring dragon -- a small city's governor whose hot springs had run red with his own blood. Lacertus had pulled the innards from the fat politico's body and left them strewn about his opulent bathing house. His creativity had been rewarded well by his employer for it.

Beside the helm, an intricate chest piece of studded leather, steel and iron. Its front bore the carved image of an orange tree, the only thing from his early years that he still remembered fondly. Six soldiers of the Griffon Empire had fallen for its creation.

Large pauldrons of shining metal jutted from each shoulder, the heads of lions protecting him with their eternal gaze. They were nicked and bent in places from combat, but he considered them to be badges of honor. A particularly worthy opponent, a Saddle Arabian and his retinue of guards from the far east, had nearly bested him. But only nearly. Lacertus had given the tall stallion the rare gift of a quick death.

Of all his equipment, it was his greatsword that he was proudest of. A gift from the wild clans of the Eastwald for slaughtering a neighboring tribe, it was a truly massive weapon that was as tall as a pony was long. It glowed faintly with a silvery hue that radiated from the foreign symbols carved into the blade, the same symbols that the strange ponies and zebras used to make the weapon surprisingly light. It was still capable of cleaving a stallion in two, but it could be swung effortlessly by Lacertus' strong frame.

All of his equipment, every blade and piece of armor, meant something deeply personal. As he thought on his past accomplishments, his life as a sell-sword, he only regretted that he would likely never live to see the rewards that slaying an immortal ruler would bring. He would settle, he thought with a quiet laugh, for being forever remembered. Good or bad, it didn't matter. Of course he'd been promised life eternal and pleasures beyond his imagining by the shadowed figure he'd spoken with -- Nightmare Moon, a somewhat-crazed follower had told him later -- but he held no real expectations of such. If he did find himself in some here-after, it would merely be a nice bonus.

Nightmare Moon. He'd heard the name in passing before, something about Princess Luna rebelling against her pious sister. Hers was the reason the moon now bore the image of an other-wordly mare. Interesting though it was, it had no real effect on his daily life, and thus, it quickly dropped by the wayside. He could have hardly imagined himself speaking with the fallen goddess not long after, eager and willing to do what she could not and destroy her sister.

Everything was in place, just as it should have been. And so, he waited in the pre-dawn hours and enjoyed a final cup of his sweet, amber wine. In a matter of hours he would likely be dead -- but so would his target. He would savor the moment, watch the life drain from her body, and in her final breath he would anoint his blade in the blood of a goddess.

"The night greets you well, sister."

"And you, brother. You're sure the others are ready?"

"Without a doubt. They await only the proper moment, my dear Sweetvine."

Cloaked in the shadows of night, two ponies took to a small corner of a building on the edge of Canterlot, a scant distance from the walls that surrounded the hanging city. Two days had passed since their final order had come down, and in that time hundreds of their number had trickled into the city, small groups of three or four at a time to avoid suspicion. They had worn their normal clothes, their loose robes and body wraps. They mingled with the population and made idle chatter. Patiently they had waited, and now they were ready. Libertus knew not their exact number, but he knew it would be enough. It was exactly as She had said.

"We have waited a long time for this. Weeks, months. We have come too far to fail now."

"Perhaps. I sometimes fear our companions will hesitate when the moment comes to slip a blade into the flesh of another." Under his long, obscuring cloak, the blood-stained armor of Libertus' old life rattled lightly against itself. "Some may be soldiers, but many are not. They do not know what it is to strike down another pony."

"Then they will learn, or they will die," Sweetvine said simply.

"We will all die, sister."

"Of course. It is not death I fear, but the thought of dying without killing for Her glory."

"Indeed so." Libertus took a deep breath of the cool air; he would miss it so. "Do you think the others know we're simply a diversion?"

"No. I have not told them. You?"

"Not a word. I imagine many would not fight if they knew as much."

"Then their faith is weak."

"It is of no matter either way. As long as the assassin gets through, we have done our part."

Sweetvine smiled. "I do so love when you're confident, brother."

No older than her early twenties, the young earth pony mare none the less thought of herself as a competent fighter. She'd trained with her brother since they were but foals, using a set of her father's too-large armor and training swords, hoping against hope to join the military she knew she could never be a part of.

She laughed at the thought of it now. Of course, things were different then. The propaganda of the royal sisters living in harmony was a fabricated lie that was brought into the light when Luna had rebelled. Why couldn't more ponies see it? It was right in front of their faces, for all the world to see, and still they followed Luna's useless sister who sat upon a throne of lies and cowardice.

Libertus had given purpose to her life after he'd left the Guard. He'd cursed the names of those who called him brutal and blood-thirsty, and for a long time he wandered Equestria with no direction. Until, one day, he'd found a pendant lying upon his makeshift bed in the forest. That's when She had come to him. Nightmare Moon. It took mere days for Libertus to seek out his sister, and from that moment on they'd recruited countless others to their cause.

And now, after so much planning and preparation, it was time. A new follower had asked her, once, if she regretted that she would live such a short life. It was a ridiculous question, but she understood that it was one born of trepidation. "No," she'd answered confidently, "I regret only that I waited so long to find my place."

"Tell me, sister," Libertus spoke up, pulling her back to the moment, "when we have shed these mortal bodies and joined our queen, how will you spend eternity?"

In truth, she hadn't thought about it much. She didn't need to. In her mind, the answer was simple.

"Just as I always have." She placed a foreleg around Libertus' neck and smiled, then kissed him lovingly. "With you."

There was never enough sleep these days. Though she'd grown somewhat used to it, Celestia still longed for the days when she could set the sun and drift off in peace, letting Luna handle the duties of the long night. These days, between her double duty with the sun and the moon, and the taxing effort of managing a war she wanted no part of, she thought herself lucky to get half a night's rest. The warmth of her bed called to her as she forced herself to move her tired body once more, thoughts of delaying the sunrise heavy like her eyelids.

A light knock on her door brought a smile to her face despite her haze. Rosewise made it a habit to leave a cup of steaming tea at the princess' door every morning, placed on a silver platter and adorned with a single flower and a spoonful of orange blossom honey. Celestia floated the hot drink into her chambers and closed the door behind her, the hints of spicy, earthy notes filling her lungs as the liquid warmed her throat.

It was still cool and damp out as she stepped onto her balcony, with only scattered clouds dotting the sky. The rains had passed on to the west, leaving Canterlot shining like a mirror in the glow of the moon that just barely peaked over the distant mountains. Part of Nightmare Moon's image was still visible, and she felt a pang of regret as she lowered the moon below the horizon. Even now she wished her sister was around to talk to, to share a laugh and discuss the night's events before they traded places. But it was not to be.

Celestia focused her power with practiced strength, her horn enveloped in a radiant glow to match the sun's bright rays of light, and slowly, and surely, raised the mighty star over the horizon. Satisfied with her work, she set the sun on a gradual path across the sky, where it would shine over Equestria until it was time once more to repeat the cycle.

A cool breeze wafted through the city, and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of it brushing over her coat and skin. The day would be a busy one, with dignitaries from the Griffon Empire stopping by around mid-day, not to mention the myriad issues that would no doubt--

A sound caught her attention, distant, drifting in on the wind. For a time she was unsure she'd heard anything at all. Then, seemingly all at once, Canterlot erupted into shouts. Terrible, angry yells and the unmistakable sound of steel against steel. Then came the screams of the dying, the pleas for mercy.

Shocked, horrified, she felt as if her body was rooted in place. Time seemed to slow as she heard each cry and clash of metal. Her hundreds of years of preparation took over, pushing her on despite the scene below. As quick as she dared to she ran back into her chambers, down the hallway, and out into the throne room.

Canterlot was under attack.

"Everybody move it! I need your asses up here right now!"

Imperator Stonewall shouted to his soldiers as he galloped to the meeting point for the four Praetorian barracks. Some were already assembled, while the rest were rapidly flooding in from outside. Sixty of their number stood ready within minutes, clad in armor and brandishing pila and blades.

"Listen up! Canterlot has been besieged from within by an unknown number of enemy combatants, and it is our job to make sure they don't step a single hoof in this palace!"

"Are they deer?" someone asked above the muffled sounds of combat that echoed in from below.

"Some are, most aren't. If you see someone waving a weapon in your direction and they're not wearing Equestrian equipment, you are to assume they're a threat and treat them appropriately!" Stonewall stuck out an armored hoof, pointing at groups of soldiers. "Barracks one and barracks four, you're to protect the outer walls of the palace as well as any entry ways! That includes doors, open areas, waste water grates, or anything of the sort! If it's big enough for a rat to squeeze a fart through, I want you watching it! Understood?!"

"Understood!" they answered as one.

"Barracks two and three, you're the second line! We'll be guarding the throne room and inner passages! Morning Star, Rimeberry, Krosus, Vinerin, Thunderburst, fall in with me! I don't trust you as far as I can throw you, Krosus, but in the event you lose your mind again I want to be within reaching distance."

"Yes, sir," Tercio answered, not wanting to argue at such a time.

The small group quickly broke off from the main body of Praetorians and made full gallop for the throne room. Six guards from another barracks were already at the entrance, and Stonewall shouted at them to open the doors and move out of the way. Inside, Princess Celestia stood at the far end of the room, a sword levitating at her side as she worriedly checked the stallions who approached her. She sighed with relief as she saw Stonewall and the others, sliding her weapon back into a sheathe she'd hurriedly thrown around her neck.

"Are you alright, my Princess? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Stonewall, thank you. What is going on down there? I had just raised the sun when there was a sudden outburst of violence."

"We don't know for sure, not yet, but whoever it is, it isn't the deer. From the initial reports it appears that the traitors that attacked the Legion patrol are among their number."

Celestia looked ragged with worry, her ethereally flowing mane and tail lacking their usual shine, and bags under her eyes betrayed her tired condition.

"Can we hold them?" she asked.

"Honestly, Your Highness, I don't know. Most of the Royal Guard is away fighting the deer, but our numbers should still hold strong. In the event that the intruders break into the palace, the Praetorians will give them hell. That I can promise you."

Regaining a modicum of composure, Celestia bowed her head to the soldiers who had become her personal guard.

"Thank you all for arriving so quickly. Your aid is greatly appreciated."

She nodded to Tercio, a subtle movement. She hadn't mentioned the incident to anyone after all.

"Of course, Princess," Rimeberry answered.

"Right then!" Stonewall motioned to each entrance. "Thunderburst and Rimeberry, you have watch of the main entrance. Bar that door and don't open it for anyone or anything, I don't care who they are. Morning Star and Vinerin, you have the chamber hall. The pantry has a stairwell that leads down into a storage room, I want you to make sure nothing comes through that door. Krosus, you get to stick to my side like stink on shit. Everyone move it!"

Stonewall turned to face the princess, putting a hoof over his chest in salute.

"Princess, in the event that the throne room is compromised we will head for the escape tunnels. I trust you remember where the entrance is?"

"Of course."

"Good to hear." He pointed to the sword dangling from her neck. "There is no need to carry such a weapon yourself, Princess. It will only burden you."

Celestia gave an amused chuckle. "I assure you, Imperator, I can handle myself if need be. One does not live for hundreds of years and not pick up a thing or two about swordplay."

"Bombardment ready!" General Phalanx heard the leader of his catapult teams shout over the pounding rain and driving thunder. Up and down the length of the Equestrian formation dozens of siege engines stood ready to unleash their deadly payloads of crushing projectiles. Nearly a hundred ballistae were loaded with heavy bolts, but their range and accuracy would be greatly reduced by the wind and rain. He would have to wait to put their firepower to use.

The opening stages of the battle were underway, with each side readying their long-ranged weapons to unleash upon their targets. There would be an initial volley per side, followed by archers loosing their arrows to the sky, and finally an infantry charge across the field. From there, the general's battle plan would be set in motion.

"Catapults at the ready!" Phalanx yelled, hearing his order echo down the line. The deer stood motionless across the field, waiting for the fight to begin in earnest.

"Release!"

Nearly as one the catapults came to life with creaking wood and wrenching ropes, bucking their rear wheels as large boulders flew across the expanse between the two armies. The projectiles seemed to hang in the air, graceful despite their size, water trailing off their mass like small fountains, until they crashed into the deer lines with resounding thumps and wet crunches of bone and flesh. Hundreds of deer were instantly killed or wounded, crushed or maimed horrifically as the catapults' immensely heavy payloads bounced and tumbled through their formations. And yet, not a single deer moved from their place, even as their dying comrades cried out.

"Catapults, reload!"

It would take a long time to prepare another volley, and the deer wasted no time in responding. With a distant shout the deer unleashed their own siege weapons; large, swinging contraptions that hefted large spreads of pottery into the air with baskets of ropes and weighted arms. The Equestrian soldiers watched in a mix of curiosity and dread as the veritable clouds of pottery scattered through the sky. They tumbled and twisted, then came down in a vast blanket. They were not accurate, but what they lacked in accuracy they made up for in number. As each one landed, a blossoming plume of bright green flames burst forth and engulfed anyone unfortunate enough to be near it. Horrible screams filled the air as Phalanx's formations were dotted with otherworldly fire. Ponies rushed to the aid of near-by victims, desperately trying to put out the flames that burned even in the pouring rain and stuck to skin and steel alike. The sickeningly sweet smell of burnt flesh filled the battlefield.

"Move the wounded to the medicae tents! Leave the dead!"

General Phalanx was not about to let his soldiers suffer helplessly. For all of their military pomp and poise, the deer could not hope to match Equestrians in camaraderie. If Phalanx could avoid unnecessary deaths, he would. Several ponies passed by him, carrying wounded soldiers with terrible burns. Some were missing limbs, or had been charred to the point of being unrecognizable, their armor fused to their flesh.

"Mother fuckers," Gilias growled at Phalanx's side. "The Griffon Empire would never use such barbaric weapons! I'm going to slaughter so many deer their collective history will piss itself at my name!"

"Easy, Battle-Master," Phalanx said, lifting an armored foreleg. "Your time will come. We mustn't lose our heads now, or we're liable to lose them later."

"Yeah..."

Down on the second line, hundreds of archers were readying their weapons, nocking arrows and holding their bows at a low-ready position. Across the way, the deer forces did the same.

"Archers, at the ready!"

Countless arrowheads aimed at the sky.

"Release!"

The deer did not wait this time. As soon as the Equestrians had fired off their volley, the Whitetail archers did the same. For a moment the missiles formed a veritable cloud, passing by each other narrowly, some arrows impacting and tumbling from the air. The rain and wind blew many off course, but still they continued on.

"Shields up!"

Tower shields and bucklers formed a rough wall of wood and iron, but it was never going to stop the rain of projectiles entirely. Hundreds of arrows dug themselves into shields with sharp thwacks or bounced off armor with shrill pings, yet many on both sides soon fell. Deer and pony alike dropped to the ground in agony, dead on the spot or rapidly bleeding out. Some were lucky, having taken hits to non-vital areas, and a few among their number yanked out the offending arrowheads and continued on, their pain only feeding their will to fight. There would be many more barrages to follow.

There was an almost palpable change to the air, a build-up like a coiled spring waiting to be released. General Phalanx could feel his stallions becoming focused the deer alone, a quiet fury just below their disciplined surface. They were eager for vengeance for their fallen comrades, eager to end the Whitetail threat once and for all. He would not make them wait.

"Hastati, shield wall formation!"

The front rows of soldiers locked their shields together, forming an overlapping barrier that menaced with spears.

"Princepes, spears up!"

Behind the shield wall, the more veteran stallions brought their long spears into an upright and ready position, vast rows of them bristling like the spines of a great beast. The two armies faced each other in silence, with only the sound of cascading rain falling on their armor. Across the expanse, the deer commander was rallying his soldiers. They shouted call and response words of encouragement, bravery, and loyalty. General Phalanx raised his voice as loud as he could despite his old age, hoping to be heard over the rainfall so that every guard and legionary would know that their general was with them.

"Equestrians! Brothers!" He began. "Do not fear that which lies before you! Though our enemy is strong, he fights alone! He fights for conquest, for falsehoods that have corrupted his nation and manipulated his thoughts! He fight only for the next battle! But we -- we fight for what is behind us! We fight for Equestria, for our families, for our land! The deer would see all that we love burned to the ground! If we should falter here, today, then everything our great nation has become will have been for naught! Do not fight for me, but for your homes! Your children! Your Princess, who even now blesses us in her thoughts! For Equestria!"

A great thundering sound of thousands of deer running across the expanse with a roaring battle cry signaled the beginning of the battle proper. General Phalanx braced himself, drawing his sword from its sheath with a resounding singing of steel.

"Equestriaaans! Chaaaarge!"

Four thousand voices shouted as one, galloping at full speed across the rain-soaked field. A singular sound, louder than any thunder crack, resounded for miles around as the opposing shield walls crashed into each other. The battle to decide the fate of Equestria had begun.

Tercio struck his shield and sword together in frustration.

"This is not right! Fourteen years I have trained for this moment, and yet I must stand idle while my brothers die in the streets!"

"Calm yourself, Krosus. If bloodshed is what you wish, pray that it is yours and not the princess'."

At the end of the throne room, a wrapped scroll appeared in a burst of orange magic, falling to the ground. Imperator Stonewall scooped it up and set it upon a low pedestal. He grumbled as he read over the news.

"Centurion Hammerfell reports that the Royal Guard is falling back to the palace foregrounds. Most of the attackers are poorly trained, but they have strength in numbers. We--"

A loud crash echoed through the throne room, bringing with it a spray of shattered glass. A small group of pegasi had burst through a window, landing on their hooves with swords at the ready. They wasted no time, immediately lunging for the closest target with short swords clutched in their mouths.

"For Nightmare Moon!"

"Defensive formation!" Stonewall shouted, bringing the waiting praetorians into a rough semi-circle to protect the princess. Rimeberry was the first to engage the attackers, deflecting sword blows with his tall shield and countering with thrusts and slashes. The pegasi were unarmored, but they were agile, and they dodged out of the way as Tercio and Morning Star moved in to assist. A dark-coated pegasus struck out at chest level with a brief flap of his wings -- Tercio parried with his gladius, then brought his shield around and struck his opponent in the face. The pegasus briefly faltered, dazed by the impact, and Tercio thrust his sword deep, the blade sticking out through the back of the neck. The attacker fell to the ground, clutching at his throat as blood pooled around him. A crushing blow from the edge of a shield ended his struggling.

Beside him, Rimeberry had been joined by Thunderburst, who was currently burying his gladius up to the hilt in flesh and bone. With two attackers quickly dispatched, the third began to grow desperate. He threw himself back, then lifted into the air and made a fast lunge directly at the princess across the room. He did not get far. Thinking quickly, Tercio grasped his blade with both hands and stuck the blade directly into the air. The last pegasus could not react fast enough, and in the blink of an eye he had split himself open along his entire length. Blood and viscera sprayed from his gaping wound, and he tumbled from the air in a heap, crashing headlong into the royal dais. He screamed a wet, gurgling scream, struggled on his side, and died where he lay.

"We're clear," Stonewall said, sheathing his sword. "Happy now, Krosus?"

Tercio said nothing in return, wiping the blood from his face and hands, still breathing heavily from the rush of combat.

"Nice work dealing with that scum at the end. Just don't let it go to your head. There could be more on the way."

Celestia looked on in horror at the gore that had so defiled her throne room. More than the violence, it was what the attackers had shouted that shook her to her very soul. She found her legs weak, and she had to sit down to regain her composure. Over and over she heard the words, occupying her every thought.

For Nightmare Moon.

Lacertus Praxis grunted and strained and sweat with every movement. For nearly an hour he had been climbing up the rock face of Canterlot's connecting mountain, focused on a small, almost imperceptible clearing half way up the imposing wall of sharp boulders and sheer cliff sides. He swore and wished he were twenty years younger, but still he climbed. Sharp, metallic spikes on his armored shoes dug into the rock, just enough to support his body, armor, and weapon. A single unsure step, a moment's hesitation, and he would fall to his death.

Even from where he was, he could hear the sounds of distant battle. The diversionary attack was under way. Dedicated but misguided ponies would be throwing themselves into the slaughter. Everything now came down to him, and him alone.

Long minutes passed before he finally was able to reach the small clearing, a rocky outcropping adorned with scattered sage brush and clinging weeds. He rolled onto his back, breathing heavily, and allowed himself a brief rest. Before him, a featureless wall of black stone -- or so it appeared. The dark figure had spoken of a hidden passage, a false front. Cautiously, he stuck a hoof out and pressed it against the rock. It resisted, but not as much as it should have. Confident now that he'd found it, he gathered his strength and pushed as hard as he could. An invisible barrier of magic pushed back, crackling with energy that coursed down his body and lanced through his skin like a thousand knives, yet still he forced himself on, yelling with effort. He could feel the barrier giving way, slowly, and with a final burst of power he broke through. The false wall gave a sound like a billowing whirlwind, and in a rush of air disappeared.

Lacertus picked himself off the dusty ground, looked up, and smiled. He was in.