Soaring above the battlefield with a retinue of pegasi at her side, Battle-Master Gilias was in her element. Since the start of the battle she'd rapidly become impressed by the courage and fighting spirit of the ponies; even in the face of potentially overwhelming force, they never backed down. They did, however, need to learn a thing or two about tactical flying -- especially after the disastrous first outing that had cost many pegasi their lives -- and for that reason she'd volunteered to lead them into battle for quick strikes against vulnerable targets. The armor worn by pegasi was lighter than that of their unicorn or earth pony brethren, which meant a policy of "get in, attack, get out" was the only way to avoid excessive losses.

"Battle-Master, there are more of those swing-arm contraptions to our right, just before the treeline!" A blue pegasus in gold and silver armor shouted above the noise of the wind and rain, pointing a hoof at the siege weapons grouped together on the eastern edge of the fight. They ducked and weaved with the dips and hills of the terrain, and between hilltops she managed to get a look.

"I see it! Looks like two dozen deer in the area!" She held up a closed claw-hand and thrust it downward, the signal for a diving attack. "Move in!"

As one they rapidly ascended through the pouring rain, water trailing off their feathers, and dove on the small formation. Gilias was the first to strike, tucking her wings in and landing with enough speed to carry her across the slick grass with a blade in each hand. Simultaneous swings decapitated one deer and sliced the neck of another before she skidded to a halt, already bringing her curved swords up and around to lash out at the nearest target. At the same time, her pegasi took up positions around her and began to fight off the defending deer. It was a fierce, brutal flurry of flashing steel, lasting no more than a few breaths, and by the end the deer lay dead or dying, with the loss of two pegasi in exchange.

"Wings out and pricks up, ponies! Move it!"

No sooner had they lifted back into the air than a wave of explosive pots were flung their way. Gilias cursed as she saw their small forms rapidly approaching, and she immediately yelled for her pegasi to fly as close to the ground as possible. Many of the projectiles crashed into the hillside or went flying by harmlessly, but a few managed to explode directly amidst the formation, sounding like a sudden burst of hail as the shards of pottery, glass and iron bounced off armor or embedded themselves in flesh. Several pegasi shouted and fell to the ground in crumpled heaps, trailing blood from numerous puncture wounds, and Gilias felt a sudden, stabbing pain like a swarm of angry bees all along her left side. She wobbled as her flapping faltered.

"We've lost Cracius and Monsoon!" A pegasus to her left pulled alongside her and attempted to hold her up with one of his forelegs, but the griffon's wings were too large and he had to fall back to avoid blocking her movement.

"They'll have to find their own way back!" She reached a hand back to her side, and when she pulled it up to her face she saw patches of red that covered her talons. "Fucking tree-rutters! Everyone break off and get back to the medicae tents if you're hit, that's an order!"

Blood dripped from her forehead, making it steadily harder to see as it clouded her vision. She stayed focused on the terrain, but she could feel herself growing weaker, her powerful flaps now barely keeping her flying. Finally she passed over Equestrian lines and, with a final surge of willpower, dove into the center of the medical area. She landed hard enough to leave a trail of torn grass and soil behind her, and she laughed to herself despite the pain as the apothecaries rushed over.

"I need the strongest shit you have," she said with her head on the ground, part-way delirious, "because if I feel any pain I'm going to eat one of you fuckers. Alive."

Brother-Captain Corvalix and his commander watched intently as the nations of Whitetail and Equestria battled each other in vicious combat. For over an hour it had gone on, with countless dead and wounded on both sides. At times it felt like nature itself was intent on adding to the chaos, with the relentless downpour turning the battlefield into a swampy muck of blood and torn earth.

"I can't help but notice the ponies are still fighting tenaciously, sir. Perhaps General Phalanx knows more about warfare than you believe?"

Felnaris dismissed the idea with a shrug.

"Phalanx has been lucky and stubborn, Brother-Captain, nothing more. It is only a matter of time."

Another wave of fire pots rained down on the Equestrian lines, but even such a fearsome weapon seemed to have little effect on the enemy's morale. Corvalix cursed and wished he had more siege weapons; many had been destroyed by pegasus attacks led by that damnable griffon, or lucky catapult hits, and what few remained were now under the protection of a greatly reduced magical barrier. It was a slow, gradual thing, the loss of combat efficiency, but it was there. Felnaris simply refused to see it, the stubborn old stag so set in his ways, so sure of victory without effort. It was infuriating.

"As I said: Phalanx has no experience with real warfare," Felnaris said, motioning to the eastern flank. There Corvalix saw a large contingent of armored ponies forming up into double rows with long spears held at the ready. "See how he gathers his forces in the open, no doubt hoping to attack us from the side. It is a fool's tactic, a move of desperation."

Indeed, it appeared that the Whitetail soldiers had already begun to move themselves to counter the flanking attack, breaking off a force of over two hundred from the reserve ranks to form a wall of blades for the ponies to charge into.

The ranks of Equestrians shouted something, then began to pick up speed and break into a full gallop. Their hooves sloshed through the water and kicked up streamers of wet soil, and as one they lowered their spears. They were about to rush head-long into a force double their size, bristling with long blades and armor-mounted daggers. A suicide attack. Corvalix felt a twist of worry in the pit of his stomach -- what if Phalanx really didn't know how to fight a war? Everything he'd worked for, planned for, would be thrown into chaos.

Another war cry sounded, though Corvalix could not make out the words. The charging ponies gained a burst of speed, closing in on the deer lines, until they were nearly within spear range. A bright glow started to shine from the center of each group, like miniature stars, each a different color. There was a blinding flash.

And then, the ponies simply disappeared.

Corvalix gasped.

A heartbeat later, the missing ponies materialized among the back ranks of the Whitetail army with a battle cry, still at a fierce gallop. Their precision was astounding, with each small formation appearing in a different place with a burst of light and magic. They carved into the unprotected deer with spear and sword and mace, and within seconds the commanding ranks were decimated. Some of the bucks, stronger and more experienced, took two or three ponies down before succumbing to the relentless, sudden appearance of Equestria's most skilled magic users and their squads.

Brother-General Felnaris stepped back in surprise, his mouth agape at the ferocity of the Equestrian maneuver.

"I..Polasis Formation, break off and kill those damned ponies! Leave the front ranks if you must!"

Inwardly, Corvalix smiled. In a single moment, Felnaris had been put in his place.

"What now, sir?" he asked, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

"Now we end their miserable lives and carry on! Trickery and gimmicks, just as I said!"

A near-by siege weapon's crew cried out as war maces shattered their armor and crushed their bones. Great spurts of blood and gore sprayed from the heavy, powerful impacts that brought them to the ground. One of the deer lifted up and crashed a fire pot into the pile next to him, engulfing himself, his comrades, and six ponies in otherworldly green flames.

"Sir, we need help!" someone shouted above the noise of battle and the screams of burning soldiers.

"Formations seven through ten are at half-strength!" another said.

"Barrier squad is dead!"

Felnaris was beginning to panic. It was plainly visible in his eyes; he had underestimated his enemy, and was now frantically looking around for a way out, a way to regain control. A battered commander hobbled up to him, his body covered in wounds.

"Sir! We...we need reinforcements on the...western edge! The Equestrians are breaking through!"

"Return to your post!" Felnaris shouted. Some of the deer down the line had begun to break off, falling back to better positions but leaving their flanks exposed, in a desperate bid to fight off the constant blades and arrows that were being sent their way. "All of you, return to your positions! That's an order, damnit!"

The wounded commander clutched his chest, his breathing heavy.

"We should retreat..."

A blade whipped through the air, lodging itself in the deer's side. The hilt crackled with green magic as Felnaris dug the blade in deeper. The commander fell to the ground, dead where he landed.

"Traitors! Cowards! The armies of Whitetail do not retreat!"

That was all Corvalix needed. The final sign of Whitetail weakness. A volley of arrows and ballista bolts arced over the front lines, and Corvalix quickly threw up a barrier with all of his might and focus, deflecting the projectiles -- except for one. A single ballista bolt, long and heavy and horrifically sharp, stopped with a jerk in mid-air, mere inches from Felnaris' body. The Brother-General shot a look of relief that immediately changed to rage.

"And you, Brother-Captain! Why are you not fighting the filthy rabble?! Where is your sense of loyalty and--"

Felnaris stopped with a pained choke. He looked down at the bolt sticking out from his chest, magical energy coursing up and down its length. It jerked forward, and he gave an agonized grunt as jagged pieces of his armor sawed into his wound.

Beside him, Brother-Captain Corvalix fixed an unblinking glare at his commanding officer, his antlers bathed in emerald-green light.

"Don't you dare speak to me about loyalty, Brother-General," he said, spitting the words like poison from his mouth. "My loyalty lies with another. One who is stronger than any among your pathetic ranks."

With a burst of magic he twisted the bolt, and a stream of blood dribbled from Felnaris' mouth.

"You are a fool and a disgrace to the Whitetail. You were never going to win this battle. Too many lives have been wasted to your pride." Corvalix leaned in, speaking just above a whisper. "Die now, knowing that everything you have done is for naught, Felnaris."

With a final push the commander of the Whitetail, the strategist of their invasion, fell dead. Corvalix stood over the body for a long moment, relishing the death he'd waited so long to inflict on the insufferable leader. For months he had taken the general's barbs without retort, withstood the verbal and physical abuse that so frequently came from questioning orders or bringing bad news, and he had done it for a cause far greater than himself. Now, after all that time, he finally felt justified.

With as much feigned sadness and panic as he could muster, he yelled to the commanders who were fighting for the lives of their bucks, and themselves.

"B-Brother-General Felnaris has fallen! All Whitetail forces, retreat! I say again, retreat with all due haste!"

Some of the commanders looked back at him in shock and confusion, but upon seeing the body of their general impaled by an Equestrian missile quickly fell in line and passed on the order. Up and down the formations it was repeated, and in seconds the battle line was broken as deer vaulted over the bodies of their dead comrades to escape. Many fell to arrows and spears. Hundreds of pegasi were seen to leap into the air, charging down survivors with their superior speed.

The Whitetail were routed. Many of the deer dropped their weapons and surrendered; those who didn't were quickly dispatched.

"Sir, we need to get you out of here!" A company commander said as he ran over, his armor slick with blood from his twin daggers.

"Of course, Brother-Sergeant. As you say."

Several surviving deer joined with him, and together they made a full retreat for the safety and cover of the woods. As they darted between trees and hopped fallen logs, Corvalix allowed himself a brief smile. Everything had gone better than he could have hoped for and, though he had been prepared to sacrifice his life, he was glad to be alive.

"...izens are in a full-blown panic, not that I blame them."

"What of the Guard, sir? Or the Praetorians? Do we have the numbers necessary to restore order?"

"If we're lucky. Damned attack took its toll on us."

The sound of conversation echoed like a distant thunderclap, gradually gaining clarity as the far-off voices came into focus. Slowly, Princess Celestia opened her eyes. She was alive.

Thin curtains blew in the light breeze drifting through an open window, orange beams of late-day light casting their glow on a place that was at once familiar and strangely foreign in its appearance -- the royal infirmary. In her groggy, half-awake state, Celestia remembered the days she and Luna would come to this very place as a result of their childish adventures. In the corner, leaning against the wall, a young visage of her sister smiled a gap-toothed smile and giggled at the loss of another baby tooth.

"Luna..."

Her eyelids grew heavy, and she felt herself drifting off to sleep once more.

"Princess! Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

Celestia grumbled, feeling like a child deprived of a nap. She forced herself to stay awake, the soft rays of setting sunlight suddenly like burning bonfires, and she turned her head with a groan. All at once the voice snapped to focus.

"Princess Celestia, we're here for you."

Imperator Stonewall. He'd survived after all.

"Mmmn...Stonewall?"

His ears immediately perked up at the sound of her voice.

"Yes. Thank the gods you're alive. For quite some time we weren't sure if you were going to make it."

Celestia sat up in her bed, carefully craning her neck to look around. A sharp pain jerked her shoulder, and she recoiled with a small shout.

"Easy now, Princess, easy now. Your wounds are not yet fully healed."

She looked down at the left side of her body, where an ugly, jagged line of mended flesh showed against her white coat that was washed a filthy red with streams of dried blood. Bandages clung to her side and wrapped tight against her ribs. The memory of the assassin's blade tearing into her flashed before her eyes, as vivid as the moment it happened: the gleaming edge of his massive sword, the horrible feeling of being trapped, the pain as it cut her. Then...

"Tercio?" she asked, finally noticing the tall human standing at the foot of her bed.

"I remain at your side, My Princess," he said with a pained nod. His right arm was held tight against his chest in a sling that remained pink and wet from his injuries, and everything above his elbow seemed to be stained with seeping blood. Dark, ugly bruises showed themselves across his face and chest. In his free hand he clutched a healing poultice to his side, where he had torn away a section of his cloth doublet to tend to the wound. The herbal concoction wafted from where he stood, earthy and biting to the senses.

"How are you feeling?" Stonewall asked. The old stallion had seen better days, wrapped in thick bandages over much of his torso.

"I have been better," Celestia answered truthfully, "but I am alive."

"All we can ask for. Some time passed after you lost consciousness. Fortunately, a flight of pegasi from a neighboring Praetorian detachment thought to look for us in the escape tunnel. We owe much of our survival to them."

As he turned Celestia gasped at the stump where his foreleg used to be. His other foreleg hung uselessly, its bones broken. Stonewall remained standing solely due to the carved staff that now supported his upper body, tucked into the spot where his leg met his chest. "Really, it is not as bad as it looks," he tried to assure her. "I will not be fighting any time soon, but I continue to serve to the best of my ability. Besides, the apothecaries assure me they can fashion a wooden replacement in due time. I have tried to convince them to make it out of steel and conceal a folding blade, but thus far I have had little success." He chuckled despite his situation.

"I am glad to see you are still in good spirits," Celestia said. "And more-so, I am glad to see you still with us. I feared we would all take our last breaths in that cave." Flashes of combat, sprays of blood. The horrible, screeching wail of the cavern. The memories shook her to her very soul. "What of the others?"

Stonewall frowned. "Morning Star is dead, quite obviously. Thunderburst lost a limb and a lot of blood, he is under intensive watch. Whether he will survive or not, I cannot say. Rimeberry is recovering in the main infirmary. The apothecaries say he has several broken ribs and a punctured lung. His survival is also, I'm afraid, unknown at this point."

"I see...I'm sorry to hear that." The moaning of wounded ponies sounded from down the hall, far too many. "How has Canterlot fared? Is it as bad as I imagine?"

"To be honest, Your Highness, not too well. There are still a few...cultists...who insist on throwing their lives away, but they are being dealt with. The majority of them are now dead, albeit at a great cost. We're still trying to verify everything, but we believe our military losses number somewhere between sixty and eighty Royal Guard, twenty to thirty Praetorian Guard, and a dozen soldiers from a visiting Legion encampment. The wounded number twice that. As for the cultist scum, we estimate anywhere up to six hundred. We made the bastards pay for every life they took."

"And what of the citizens?"

"Civilian losses are...higher."

"How much higher?"

Stonewall said nothing for a moment, casting his eyes to the floor.

"Stonewall? How much higher?"

"...between three hundred and five hundred dead. The number of wounded is unknown."

Celestia gasped with her hooves to her chest, her eyes tearing up. So much loss and suffering, and for what? For the fanatical devotion to her fallen sister? She felt the rising urge to break down and cry, and she closed her eyes hard against it and forced herself to remain as calm as she could.

"I'm sorry, I just need a moment," she said with sadness evident on her voice. Tercio and Stonewall turned away out of respect, speaking to each other quietly. Celestia felt the weight of every death crushing down on her, and for what felt like an eternity she found it hard to breathe or think clearly. So many senseless deaths...

"Do you know who is in charge of this infirmary?" Celestia finally asked once she'd regained her composure.

"That would be apothecary Mended Heart. She is currently gathering supplies down the hall. Shall I bring her before you?"

"Please do," Celestia noded weakly. "I wish to ask her something."

Stonewall turned and hobbled out through the door, but was stopped as Tercio asked if he would prefer to send him instead. Stonewall declined, saying he was crippled, not dead, and headed down the hallway with his walking cane clacking on the floor.

"Still as stubborn as ever," Celestia said, wiping lingering tears from her eyes. She studied Tercio for a time as he pulled the healing poultice away, grimacing at the sting of the medicine as it cleaned and healed the gash at his side. He noticed her looking at him and tipped his head in admiration.

"Are you well, Princess?" he asked, pulling another mixture of herbs and liquids from the wooden table behind him.

"I was about to ask you the same."

"I have been better," he answered truthfully, "but still I draw breath. I cannot complain too much in that regard."

"That makes two of us, then. I'm relieved you're alive."

"And I, you." Tercio pressed the cloth full of medicine against his wound once more, sucking in a breath through his teeth at the stinging that came from it. "They tell me I killed the assassin, Lacertus, quite viciously. Truth be told, it's just like the other times I was overcome with that...primal violence, I suppose you could call it."

"You don't remember anything?" she asked.

"No. There are only brief moments. Bits and pieces. When I close my eyes, I see only blood and death." He looked up with a worried shadow crossing his face. "Did I truly tear his throat out? With my bare hands?"

"Yes. I remember it clearly. I had just been struck down by the assassin's blade, and before he could end my life you were upon him. To see such anger, such determination, as you fought him was...hard to watch."

Tercio sank down onto a small pile of cushions with a brief, humorless laugh. "'Hard to watch'. I tore someone's throat out! I am a monster, not a soldier, it would seem."

"You are not a monster," Celestia said reassuringly. "You saved many lives by defeating Lacertus, mine included. No one, pony or not, would demonize you for such a thing."

"And yet, I can completely lose myself because of a simple, spoken word. Like a trained beast."

Celestia considered what to say; there was much to be said for his situation, good and bad.

"I think that, despite the seemingly uncontrollable nature of it, there is some part of you that still fights against it. You may have killed Lacertus, but you did not harm me. After what happened when we tried to test that certain word's effects on you, I was convinced it caused nothing but a single-minded pursuit of violence. But now...well, maybe there is something we can do to further help you."

"That would be a very welcome plan," Tercio replied. "I hate the idea of someone, anyone, having such total control over me. Lacertus, gods damn his soul, used it just once, but it was enough to give him the opportunity to seriously harm yourself and the others. By some miracle I did not attack you in turn."

"Perhaps it was a miracle. Or perhaps you have more control over yourself than you used to."

"Either way, I am glad it is over." Tercio stood up with a grunt of pain and walked to her bedside, leaning in to lower his voice. "Princess, there is something I have been trying to figure out since I regained consciousness."

"Yes?"

"It's about how Lacertus used, well, that word. Doesn't it strike you as a little strange that he knew about it at all? Not only that, but he knew I would be with you."

Celestia tapped her chin with a hoof.

"That is rather strange, now that I think about it. Didn't he say he was a sell-sword?"

"Among other things. We're quite lucky our assassin enjoyed the sound of his own voice."

"So it would seem. Considering you and I only found out about it recently, it would make sense that someone had to have told Lacertus about it." He looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Could it have been Nightmare Moon? He mentioned her at least once."

Celestia shook her head. "I don't know, but it strikes me as very peculiar that Luna would know such an old word of Deerspeak. She never was one for other languages. It's possible her corruption gave her some sort of new understanding, but I can only speculate."

"So if not Nightmare--ah, Luna, then who?"

"I do not know. We will have to figure it out along with the rest of this horrible mess, I suppose."

"I suppose so."

Hoof-falls and the familiar clacking of wood on tile grew closer.

"Know this, Tercio: you are a good man. I have seen it in you. Do not doubt yourself."

"Thank you, Princess. I will do my utmost to continue to serve you."

"I know you will," she said with a soft smile.

Stonewall and Mended Heart returned with bags of supplies around their sides. Mended Heart -- a middle-aged, slightly portly mare with purple-gray hair and matching coat -- wore a long body wrap of white linen, decorated with gold and silver prayer symbols. Dried blood smeared the otherwise pristine fabric. She had a caring face, but stress and lack of sleep had clearly taken a toll on her.

"Good evening, Princess Celestia," she said curtly. "It has been some time since you were brought here. Your condition has been rather uneven, to say the least."

"So I imagine. Tell me, how long has it been, exactly?"

"Well over three days. At least, I believe so. It's hard to tell without the coming of night or the dawning of day."

As Celestia looked out the nearby window she realized the sun had not changed position since she last moved it, leading to a perpetual twilight that now turned the sky all shades of orange and purple. She panicked, willing the moon to rise and the sun to fully set, but she was too weak. The strain caused a pounding in her temples, and she gave up with an annoyed exhale. The heavenly bodies would have to wait.

"Please, do not exert yourself just yet, Princess." Mended Heart eased Celestia's head back down, propping her up with another pillow. "While a prolonged dusk has understandably caused many to grow worried, your friends and assistants have done their best to assuage much of the concern."

"Do they know I still live?" Celestia asked, worried for the well-being of her people.

"Yes, though they are not aware of the extent of your injuries. Thankfully, they believed you were simply resting, instead of somewhat more unconscious, as it were."

"Which leads to different matter entirely," Stonewall added. "What the good apothecary forgets to mention is Canterlot. Between the continued fighting with the remaining cultists, the dead littering the streets, and what many perceive -- wrongfully, of course -- to be inaction on your part, civil unrest is at the breaking point for Canterlot itself. What little guard capability we have is strained beyond measure. We have the majority of our soldiers pulling shifts that last nearly an entire day, though the passage of time is hard to measure at the moment."

Her headache seemed to only grow worse as she heard the news. Hundreds dead, war raging in the west, the capital on the brink of revolt...

"Surely there must be some good to report," she said with her head in her hooves.

"There is, in fact," Tercio answered. "Yesterday a pegasus messenger reported that the Whitetail forces had been defeated near the Everfree forest. Losses were high on both sides, but ultimately we routed the enemy. Their commanding officer -- a Brother-General Felnaris, I believe -- was killed in battle. Felnaris' second in command is young and inexperienced, nowhere near as knowledgeable as his superior, and as such there is naught but chaos and disorder among the remaining soldiers. They are in a full retreat back to the Whitetail borders, with our forces pursuing them as quickly as we can."

"At least we are one step closer to winning this insufferable, pointless war, then."

"So it seems, Your Highness. General Phalanx was the right stallion for the job."

"Just as I knew he would be. Any news of your brother?"

Tercio shook his head. "No. Gods willing, he survived the battle. It is on my mind constantly, as I'm sure you can understand."

Stonewall clicked his cane on the floor.

"Princess, I do not enjoy asking such a thing, but the guard regiments are in need of orders. There are too many wounded to tend to, and if the citizens of Canterlot do not see decisive action soon I fear they will begin to riot."

Celestia thought for a moment, then raised her head with as much authority as she could muster.

"Very well. Imperator Stonewall, I am placing you in command of all Guard activity between here and the great library. I leave it to you to appoint someone for the remaining half of the city."

"As you wish, My Princess."

"Mended Heart, I realize this is an unusual request, but I would like you to open the royal infirmary to the most seriously wounded of our citizens. There is enough room in here to fit a score of ponies. Remove whatever furniture and decorations you need to make room. I am also giving you the authority to pull any extra apothecaries from the Guard facilities, should you need them."

Mended Heart lifted a foreleg in surprise. "I...yes, Princess. It will take some time, but I believe it can be done."

"I know you will do your best." Celestia said with a comforting tone, placing a hoof on her shoulder. Stonewall hobbled out, with Mended Heart behind him, and before long they were on their way to their appointed tasks.

"And I, Princess? What would you have me do?" Tercio asked, bowing his head.

"For now, I would have you stay at my side, if you would not mind."

"I would not mind in the least. Is there any particular reason why? If I may ask, of course."

"I am far too weak to assist Mended Heart. I thought you might be able to, should she ask it of you." Celestia gave a weak smile, the most she could manage, her eyes red as she fought back tears. "And because, if I'm honest, I would very much like to have someone here to talk to right now."