It had been a long time since Celestia had dug through the crowded confines of her storage room. Hardly bigger than a closet, it contained a collection of her oldest memories, some of them passed on from her aging parents in the last years of their lives. Stacks of scrolls, mounds of books, piles of old formal clothing and wooden chests filled to the brim with keepsakes and mementos. A thick layer of dust coated everything, and she coughed and sneezed as she reached for a small chest sitting atop old sketches of plants and birds.

No bigger than a bread box, the gilded chest still contained the most precious of her things -- things she had not laid eyes upon for several decades. Happy to have found it, she returned to her quarters and sat on her bed, giving a quick look outside; only a few hours left until it was time to raise the moon and lower the sun. She was thankful that the day's meetings and royal duties had been slight in comparison to days prior. It gave her time to think, and thinking was something she'd done a lot of since Wither Shoals.

The old chest felt familiar in her grasp, a dark ochre color accented with gold banding and scarlet inlays. It lacked a typical lock, looking like a solid block to anyone who might not know better. She focused on it for a moment, taking time to recall the exact sealing spell she had used. An audible click answered her magical prodding, and the featureless box split open along hidden seams. Celestia gently lifted back the curved lid and smiled as old memories came back to her.

There was a small mosaic of Luna and herself, made by an admiring stallion many, many years ago. It still sparkled like she'd just received it yesterday. Below it, a tightly wrapped scroll, addressed to her father from a faithful worker, announced that the final stone had been set in place for the Royal Palace of Canterlot, and that the old castle in the Everfree forest would be left to the ravages of time. She still remembered the hallways and passages of the old place, where she and Luna had spent many days and nights exploring its vast, maze-like construction.

As she gingerly sorted through the box a single object caught her attention, a folded length of canvas that had yellowed with time. She set the box aside, carefully opened the old keepsake, and sighed with mixed emotions. The painting's colors had faded and chipped, but it was still unmistakable: Starswirl. Her dear, sweet Starswirl. Like a moment in time captured forever he sat beside her younger self, a foreleg draped around her neck and a loving smile on his face. She still remembered it like it was yesterday, the long hours of holding still for the painter to capture their likenesses. It had taken a week to complete, but the memory it created would be with her until the day she died.

She wiped a tear and laughed at the flood of memories that came back to her, all the little things she hoped she would never forget. Their brief time together had been some of the best years of her life, and not even the unfathomable heartbreak caused by his aging spell mistake had made her miss him any less.

"Princess?"

Celestia jumped at the sudden voice, nearly tipping over the box.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Princess! I didn't mean to startle you! I can come back later!"

Mended Heart, Canterlot's foremost apothecary and healer, was standing in the doorway with an embarrassed, apologetic smile.

"It's fine, you don't have to go," Celestia said reassuringly, trying to dry her reddened eyes.

"I didn't want to interrupt you, but you missed your check-up. I was just making sure you were okay."

Of course. How could she have forgotten?

"I'm sorry, Mended Heart. I suppose I got so caught up in the past that I neglected the present..."

The kindly, middle-aged unicorn mare with a fading purple coat approached the princess and stopped just before her.

"I haven't seen you open that in a long time."

"It's been a while," Celestia laughed, sniffing back a tear. "It's the first time I've done so since Luna's banishment. I thought maybe seeing something old and familiar would help ease my mind." She patted a spot on the bed next to her. "You can sit, if you like."

Mended Heart stepped up onto the large, ornate bed and saw Celestia grasping the old painting.

"You still miss him, don't you?"

"I do. He was everything to me for a time that now seems all too brief." Celestia looked over at the one mare she truly considered to be a friend these days, the only one she had told about Starswirl in several decades -- besides Tercio. "It's been generations for most ponies. Everyone knows him now as a pioneer of the arcane arts, like some sort of legend of old. But I can still picture him like he was standing right here."

She considered not saying anything further. Some part of her didn't want to bring up the very thing that pulled at her mind and heart. Perhaps it would simply fade away like an old painting if she didn't mention it out loud.

"Mended Heart, there's...there's something I would like your advice on. You are the only one I could possibly speak to about such a thing."

Mended Heart cocked her head in curiosity. "Is there something wrong? Are you not well?"

"No, no, I'm fine -- physically, anyway. It's more of a matter of the heart..."

"Ohhh, I see. What seems to be the matter?"

"I know I don't need to ask, but I'm going to anyway: please don't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

"No need to worry about me, Celestia," Mended Heart replied, crossing a hoof over her heart. "Not a word will leave this room."

"Thank you." The princess hesitated, still unsure of herself. "It's...it's about Centurion Tercio."

"The human Praetorian? What of him?"

"Earlier this week, during our visit to Wither Shoals, he said something that has occupied my thoughts ever since."

"And that is...?"

"He...he said he loved me."

Mended Heart gasped, putting a hoof to her mouth.

"He did?"

"In all but the actual word. It was early in the night and we were walking along the shore, just talking like we sometimes do. At some point, whether it was because he has grown comfortable around me, or simply because he felt the time was right, he confessed that he cared about me deeply. He said he's never felt so close to someone, and that he would wait as long as it takes to be with me."

"And what did you say?"

"...I couldn't bring myself to say anything either way. I just said I needed time to think."

Mended Heart put a hoof on Celestia's leg to comfort her.

"Oh, dearie. That is quite the situation. Did you have any idea he felt that way about you?"

"I had some idea. I'd always felt some sort of...spark...when we spoke. I saw it in his eyes. I didn't think much of it -- after all, I've had countless stallions, and even some mares, try to court me over the years. Some of them were even soldiers, like him."

"But this is different?"

"Yes," Celestia nodded. "This time it isn't just a one-sided infatuation. I do care about him. I've come to know him as a kind man who cares deeply about his family and looks after his soldiers. Even with his somewhat forward confession his words weighed heavily on me. Over the last several months we've become close, more like dear friends than Princess and Praetorian. And that frightens me more than I can say."

Pulling up the painting, Celestia held it out for Mended Heart to see.

"Time heals all wounds, but when I think about Starswirl I remember all of the pain that came with it." Tears streamed down her cheeks despite her efforts to keep herself composed. "I watched him die, Mended Heart. I held his hoof as he took his last breath, the first time I'd seen him since he'd hidden himself away from the world out of shame and disgust at his mistake. That is the inevitability I cannot escape: everyone I love, everyone I care for, will die. And every time I lose someone, they become just another memory in this box, another scrap of parchment or an old painting. I...I don't know if I can put myself through that again."

She looked at Mended Heart with glistening eyes and spoke in an unsteady voice.

"There are no more alicorns, no one I can know I will spend the next three thousand years or more with. My mother and father were the last pair that will likely ever walk this earth."

"I don't understand, Princess," Mended Heart said, grasping Celestia's hoof. "Aren't there more out there like you?"

"No, and there hasn't been for some time. I had hope, once; there was a spell from long, long ago that could turn a normal pony into an alicorn, but that knowledge has been lost to time. I will always out-live my lovers. I will out-live Tercio. Just the thought of it..."

Mended Heart offered a sympathetic frown.

"I can't say I know what that's like. I doubt anyone but you could. But what would you do to hide from these fears? Spend the rest of your life alone, unable to grow close to anyone again? Do you really think your mother and father would have wanted such a thing for their daughter? If you ask me, a few decades of love is better than another few decades of loneliness and self-pity."

Celestia smiled behind her tears. "You make it sound so obvious."

"I only say what I believe to be right. Clearly this Tercio has feelings for you, and somewhere deep down you have feelings for him as well. You're both so very different from everypony else; maybe it was destined that you end up together. If I were you, Princess, I would enjoy the time I had with the one I love."

"That's just it, I don't know if I love him. This is all so sudden."

"Forgive me, perhaps 'love' isn't the proper word. Far be it from me to be so bold, but what could it hurt? Give him a chance. Perhaps you'll be glad you did."

"But if anyone finds out--"

Mended Heart scoffed. "Please, dearie. You're the Princess of Equestria. If someone doesn't like the fact that you're romantic with someone of your choosing, they can jump off a cliff. It's your life, not theirs. Let them have their petty rumors." She pointed to the folded painting, lowering her voice to a motherly, calming tone. "Starswirl was there for you when you needed him, but it was so long ago. Of course part of him will always be with you, but maybe it's time you let Tercio be there for you now. After all, it's better to be left with fond memories than none at all."

Among the ranks of Equestria's armies there was little love for the Whitetail. After all, it was the deer nation that had attacked Equestria under false pretenses, victims of a slaughter perpetrated by those with no connection to the Legion or its larger contingent of Guard brothers. How foolish they were to close their eyes against the truth, to lead thousands of young bucks to their deaths for a cause without merit.

And yet, General Phalanx relished his victories, even as he wished the Whitetail would surrender so no more blood would have to be shed. A strong initial showing from the Whitetail had quickly turned to a series of routs as the deer forces tried time and again to unite under the banner of the homeland, only to be crushed by the massed ponies across the border. Their best general had fallen in the first fight at the edge of the forest, a ballista bolt splitting his chest in two. Disorganized, the other officers had put up pockets of resistance, but they always fell. It was their command structure, Phalanx mused, that held back the otherwise fierce Whitetail. It was too rigid, too reliant on fear, unbending in its structure and purpose.

Many had doubted Equestria's resolve and fighting ability. Phalanx remembered one dignitary in particular, before the Guard had marched off to battle. A visiting griffon. "You ponies know nothing of war," the warrior had laughed, making a mockery of the gathered Equestrian officers. "You are a nation of artists and bakers, farmers who proudly proclaim tolerance and love over honor and strength. Where will those ideals be when a sword is being driven into your back?"

Standing atop the mountain of rubble that used to be Quillyyn Keep, surveying the destruction with his one good eye, Phalanx wished the smarmy bastard was standing beside him now. Let him see how weak Equestria was when its enemies lay dead at its hooves.

"It's really something, isn't it?"

Centurion Valpone, commander of the 5th Guard Cohort, trotted up beside his old friend. His face and neck was thick with scar tissue, lingering reminders of the Whitetail's horrific arcane fire pots that had caused so much devastation among the Equestrian ranks in the opening battle. Valpone had been badly burned, but insisted on returning to the front after only a week of treatment. His injuries still wept thin streams of blood every time he turned his neck too far to one side, tainting his bandages crimson and dying his light-brown coat.

"It's something, alright," Phalanx answered grimly. "Damn mess is what it is. Took two weeks to pound this place to ruin, even with dozens of siege engines. There's not even enough left standing to use as a lean-to to escape the rains."

Strewn before him was a field of pulverized white rock and wooden timbers that had once been the ancient stronghold of Quillyyn, Whitetail's oldest fortification and the last line of defense before the capitol. It lay shattered and rain-slick, broken by catapults that had hurled massive boulders day and night. Nothing, not even the whitetail's own fire weapons, captured and put to use by the Equestrians, would force the defenders to surrender. They had died to the last, surrounded and cut off, abandoned by their own leaders.

"Too many, General. We lost far too many taking this place."

Phalanx nodded. "What's the final count?"

"At last I saw it? Six hundred and fifteen dead or dying. Double that injured. Whitetail losses are unknown, but growing."

"Shame. Damn shame. But we took this place in the end, by the gods."

Small groups of Guard and Legion soldiers picked through the rubble, dragging out mangled whitetail bodies to add to the pile that still grew after four hours of searching. There had been no cheering after the announcement of the keep's fall, no songs of victory sung by the Equestrians. Months of fighting had left everyone tired, weary of the carnage and the relentless sounds of battle. And the rain. The damnable, cold rain that seemed to never end, drenching everyone and everything it touched. Even when it let up it was nearly impossible to get campfires to stay lit, so soaked was the wood. Equestria's finest had lived on a diet of stale, tasteless wafers and dried fruits wrapped in thick leaves, the only thing that seemed to stand a chance at foiling the downpour.

Morale was at its lowest since the war began, even with victory nearly assured in every battle. Infighting was common among the varied units; the 12th Guard had gotten into a knock-down, drag-out fight against their closest neighbors, the 9th Legion. Thirty good stallions had to be sent back to the capitol for medical treatment, and an equal number were now serving out time in the kitchens on punishment duty. A few had even been charged with attempted murder. They now spent their days back at Guard headquarters in iron cells.

"Makes you long for the days of officers screaming in your ear to keep your shield up, doesn't it?"

Valpone chuckled despite the surroundings. "That it does. Simpler days for sure." He watched a pair of unicorns lift a heavy boulder, his stomach turning as the remains of a deer soldier lay crushed under his shattered armor. "So what happens now?"

Phalanx shrugged. "Now? Evinwiir, I would imagine," he said grimly.

"You really think we'll take the capitol?"

"If we must. It falls on the Princess to make that call. It would be wise to stop here, though, I think. We can fortify the area, call in reinforcements. More importantly, we can let the stallions get away from this place for a while."

"A few weeks home would do us all a great deal of good," Valpone agreed. "Or it could give the whitetail time to regroup and come back in greater numbers."

"The whitetail are as broken as this fortress, my old friend. What strength they have will be held in reserve to defend Evinwiir. I don't think I need to tell you how many lives we'll throw away assaulting that place. Imagine this scene of destruction played out over three miles of high walls. We would win, yes, but our military strength would be in shambles. I cannot commit to such an attack. Not yet, not until we're sure." He motioned to the injured soldiers who lay in long rows at the foot of a field of medicae tents. "We can't forget that it's our devotion to each other that separates us from the deer. But even the strongest of commitments can be shattered by poor morale. The stallions need a break."

Phalanx gave a shrill whistle, bidding his notary to come over with a sharp salute. The young pegasus pulled a length of parchment and a quill from his saddle bag, shielding it from the rain with his hood.

"General, sir?"

"I need you to take a message for me, Blackcurrant. I need your word that you will copy down exactly what I say, because this is going to be read by the Princess herself. Understood?"

"Of course, General," the young Immunes answered quickly.

"Good. Message is as follows: To the attention of Princess Celestia, from General Phalanx, commander of the combined Equestrian military forces in Whitetail."

Blackcurrant wrote as quickly as he could, taking care to make sure the message wasn't ruined by the downpour.

"Dear Princess Celestia: As I speak these words I stand atop the remains of Quillyyn Keep. The battle was fierce but we have emerged victorious. Before us, a scant twenty miles to the west, lies Evinwiir. While I've no doubt our brave soldiers would win the day -- should we choose to assault the city -- I must make my thoughts known on the matter. The stallions are tired of battle and miserable in the relentless rain. Morale is worse by the day, and I fear for their well-being.

It is with an emphatic heart that I ask for the following.

First, we require reinforcements for all of our divisions. I will send exact numbers to the unit commanders in Canterlot soon after this missive, but know that I will need several thousand more soldiers, mostly from Equestrian Guard postings. These soldiers will allow our injured and weary to return home for a period of time yet to be determined, but likely within the realm of two weeks to seventeen days, depending on our needs. A warm, dry bed and a hot meal will do much for their spirits.

Second, I want to make sure that our supplies cannot be destroyed by the constant rains. Thus, I request that all shipments of food, medicine, and personal goods be made water-tight by a layer of wax-covered parchment wrapped in drakon leaves. I cannot overstate how miserable the weather is here. It does not respond in the least to our pegasi's attempts to control it.

Finally, I must ask you to decide how we should proceed once we are returned to full strength. I will be honest: we will take heavy losses if we attack Evinwiir. Thousands would be lost, and our strength in the area might not be enough to quell the unrest that would follow. I pray that you will be able to strike an accord with the Whitetail senate and their puppet chancellor, but, if we must, we will see this through to the end. On this I give you my solemn word."

Valpone nodded in approval.

"May this letter find you in good health, and may your grace be with us."

You were a fool, Tercio. A damned fool.

The bitter cold of the early days of winter was fast approaching. The royal garden was feeling its effects, its colorful oranges, reds and yellows turning to dead browns. Where there were once spectacular trees with leaves that rustled in their thousands like the breaking of distant waves, now there was only the skeletal fingers of bare branches reaching for the sky.

Tercio wished his shift was over. The chill wind bit at his exposed ankles and numbed his face, a far cry from the warmth and comfort of palace guard duty.

He wondered if this was a punishment of some kind. It had, after all, been nearly a week since his confession to Celestia on the rocky shore overlooking the Sea of Lights. He had not heard a word from her since, and she almost seemed to take the most circuitous route to and from her daily dealings in order to avoid seeing him. Sometimes he would see her in the distance, flanked by her Praetorians or her pegasi in charge of the sky wagon, and each time she did not notice him. Didn't notice, or didn't care to notice.

What were you thinking, making such a confession? It was too sudden, too overwhelming. You've driven her away.

It was, at times, all he could think about. Every word spoken to her could be recalled in detail as clear as glass, and he fretted over each and every one. He had come to the conclusion very quickly that he was far too forward in his confession. After all, had he not been on the receiving end of a very ill-advised romance from Sapphire? True, he hadn't drugged the princess to get his way, but it was similar enough to make him uncomfortable the longer he thought about it.

At the time he'd felt justified, even confident; after all, they'd shared many a pleasant conversation together, and she'd always seemed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed hers. But could she truly love him in return? Judging by her complete silence, that answer was a definitive "no".

And yet, he held onto a tiny ember of hope. Celestia was not one to simply cease contact with someone she'd come to know so well. She was far too caring for anything of the sort.

All he could do was wait, and wonder.

"Just ahead, they're coming from the south!"

Steel Spark galloped back to his spot alongside the forest trail, where a net of vines and leaves propped up by sticks had been erected to conceal some of Equestria's finest soldiers and their battle-scarred griffon companion. They were hunkered low, hiding their silhouettes against the dark forest.

"How many?" Victus asked, craning his neck to catch glimpses of the flickering torch light that marked the latest in a string of cultist supply parties. Each one prior had been allowed to pass without incident, none the wiser that the 44th Legion's best soldiers were only a scant few paces away.

"Eight, maybe ten. Mostly ponies, with two deer and possibly a zebra."

"Not too bad, then." He turned to the others. "Be ready. We will strike fast and hard."

The sound of wagon wheels crunching through the dirt path echoed around them, drowning out the distant roars and unnerving cries of the Everfree forest's night creatures. Quietly, the Legionaries drew their swords or readied their spears and bows.

"Let's hope this is the right one," Battle-Master Gilias said just above a whisper, unsheathing her twin, curved blades.

"It had better be. After all, it was your people who supplied the intel." Victus smirked. "Or do you not trust the mighty Griffon Skyguard?"

"I trust them more than I trust these Nightmare Moon cocks."

"Then I guess we'll find out."

The supply wagons came into view a moment later, a pair of carts pulled by earth ponies that were flanked by several figures cloaked in dark blue garments. Some of them idly chatted with one another, though none of them seemed particularly alert. Only those at the front and rear carried torches, and those were the first Victus ordered to be targeted. He looked to each of his soldiers, six in all, including Gilias, and they nodded in turn. Slowly, he raised a hoof and held it in the air. Just a few seconds more...

Victus dropped his foreleg, and in an instant three pila were arcing through the air. Two of them found their mark, digging themselves deep into the sides of two cultists who dropped to the ground with pained shouts, their torches rolling around and casting harsh shadows amid the confusion. Two bows joined the ambush, unleashing arrow after arrow as the Legionaries charged down from their overwatch with a battle shout. Victus was the first in, using his wings to propel himself at great speed and slamming into the nearest cultist, a tall buck clad in crystalline armor. They tumbled end over end before slamming into the wheel of the closest wagon, a twisted heap of kicking legs and shouted curses. He heard the others engage their own targets as he slashed at the buck's throat, swearing as the blade deflected off a quickly raised pauldron. A powerful kick sent Victus lurching back, giving the buck time to yank a long, conical dagger from his side and stomp his forelegs to send his armor-mounted knee blades locking into place. Now facing the prospect of fighting three blades at once, Victus kept his distance and only lunged forward to keep the deer guessing.

Around him, the other Legionaries were having better luck. Gilias had made the first kill with her blades, slicing open the stomach of a pegasus before stabbing through his skull. Sirtis landed a crushing blow with his mace, caving in the rib cage of a zebra that had tried to buck him in the jaw.

The noise and commotion of the sudden, brutal attack had sent some of the cultists running, but well-aimed arrows found their marks and cut short their escapes. The victims lay moaning on the ground, rapidly bleeding out.

It took less than a minute for most of the ambushed cultists to fall. The buck standing before Victus, however, refused to surrender an inch. He had backed himself into a space between the two carts, leaving only his front open to attack. Arrows pinged and scraped off his green, glassy armor and he shouted in harsh deertongue as the legionaries stood before him with bloodied swords. It was a narrow angle of attack, allowing only a single pony to fit through the gap at a time. The first to make a move, Chiron, found himself beaten back by a furious onslaught of stabbing attacks. Several found their mark, and he was forced to step away with bleeding wounds on his forelegs and shoulder.

"Disgusting equines," the deer said in broken Equestrian. "Cowards attack weak only! Not fight like soldiers!"

"Surrender and we won't gut you," Gilias demanded, holding a blade in one claw and and a torch in the other. Orange light reflected off the deer's armor and illuminated the stream of blood that painted his chest red.

"Gry-fin no better. Hide behind equine. Like old times." He spat blood and tucked himself further into the wedge. "Kyyl fal'een, d'o'braskii!"

"I don't know what you just said, but I'm pretty sure I don't like it." Gilias took a step forward, then unfurled her wings. The defiant deer dug in his hooves and prepared for her attack, only to lift a foreleg and grunt in surprise as she tossed the burning torch directly at him. It bounced off his leg guards and singed his fur, forcing him to turn aside for only a few heartbeats. But it was enough. The deer lost sight of her, and as he shouted in his language she attacked from above, plunging her sword through the gap between his neck and back armor. With both claws she shoved with all of her might, forcing the weapon deep. The buck screamed and desperately slashed behind him with his dagger, drawing blood where it punctured her studded leather wrist guards, but it was a futile effort. In a matter of seconds he was splayed out on the ground, a large pool of blood forming under him. Gilias drew her sword out and hacked away repeatedly at the gap, drawing long streams and rivulets of crimson.

"Fuck! You! Hiding! Behind! Equines!"

With a final slash she severed the deer's head, then dropped to her knees, breathing heavily.

"Fucking whitetail. Our kind used to eat you! Maybe we should do so again."

Victus trotted over and placed a hoof on her shoulder.

"Are you alright, Gilias?"

"Just a cut. I'm fine."

He nodded. "Are there any injuries?"

"I'll live," Chiron answered. "Hurts like the nine hells, though."

The others answered that they were unharmed, except for Rockfall, who had suffered a deep gash to his right foreleg that left it hanging uselessly. The big stallion was lying on his side, taking deep, sucking breaths as waves of pain coursed through him. Thankfully, no Legionaries had died.

"Get Rockfall patched up as best we can. We'll have the apothecary look at him when we return. Spark, I want you to take care of Chiron. If you need extra supplies take them from the carts."

"Yes, Decanus," Steel Spark said with a salute.

"Right, let's see what we've got here."

Victus and two legionaries shoved the heavy lids from a clutch of earthen containers, holding torches above them to see their contents.

"Grains...grasses...spare garments...scattered coins...did we just attack a convoy of dirt farmers and tailors?"

"Most of them weren't armed," Steel Spark said. The realization was beginning to dawn on Victus and his soldiers -- perhaps they truly had attacked the wrong people. They were Nightmare Moon cultists, without a doubt -- the garments denoted them as such -- but most did not fight back.

Gilias hobbled over. "There's got to be more than that. Keep looking!" Pot after pot was tipped over, but still nothing of value was to be found. With a shout of frustration Gilias shoved the pots off the carts. "Emperor's tits!"

"Did we just slaughter innocents?" Spark asked, looking at Victus with dread.

"They were not innocents, they were followers of the fallen princess!" Sertis objected.

"They did not fight like soldiers! Only that damned whitetail was of any import!"

"Better we slay them now than let them kill Equestrians later!"

Victus slammed his gladius into the side of the the cart, lodging it deep in the wooden planks.

"Enough! You're Legionaries, damnit, act like it!"

An uneasy silence fell, broken only by distant sounds of forest beasts.

"Take what supplies you can carry. Food, medicine. I want the bodies searched. Perhaps one of them carries intel we can bring back."

Silently the stallions went about their task, picking through bloodied wrappings and shattered remains. The attack had been brutal and efficient, a fact that now haunted them as they stepped around scattered body parts and stinking innards.

Gilias whistled and waved everyone over.

"Take a look at our asshole whitetail friend. Notice anything?"

"Besides the fact that he's missing a head?"

"Yes, besides that, smart ass."

Chiron poked at the crystalline armor.

"This is whitetail in make, without a doubt."

"That alone doesn't mean much. We've seen stolen armor on numerous Nightmare worshipers already. Look closer, under the pauldron. See where it meets the arm guards?"

He squinted against the sporadic lighting from a torch. A small image of a snake over a tri-pointed shield was etched into the glassy surface, surprisingly detailed for its size.

"What is that? Some kind of devotion symbol?"

"Not quite," Gilias answered. "That's a unit emblem. I've seen it on some of the bodies we pulled from the battle at the onset of the war. Apparently it marks this antlered prick as one of the elite."

Victus looked at the body, then up at Gilias.

"Are you saying he's with the Whitetail military?"

"That, or he managed to kill the guy who owned it and take it for himself. The way he fought, I'm leaning toward the former."

Chiron swore.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Victus warned. "All the same, we will report this to Legatus Applespice once we return."

Gilias snickered. "Applespice. You ponies, I swear."

"Remove the armor piece and keep it safe, we'll need it for proof. Everyone else, we'll--"

A sudden rustling behind them caused everyone to twist around, weapons at the ready. It was coming from their former ambush spot.

"Be ready," Victus ordered, then took to the air. He circled the small dugout twice, seeing a deer-shaped silhouette hiding in a pile of leaves. Cautiously he descended, staying just out of possible weapon range. "Whoever is there, make yourself known! You have my word that you will not be harmed if you do not resist!"

A small figure slowly poked its head out. Victus landed and approached, then stopped.

"Legionaries, lower your weapons," he shouted, "it is safe."

Gilias was the first to arrive. She gasped at the sight.

"Emperor, it's a kid!"

The others crowded around, and the small deer tucked himself back into the leaves, trembling.

"A fawn?" Chiron asked in disbelief. "A whitetail fawn, no less. What the hell is a kid doing out here?"

"I don't know, but I mean to find out." Victus lowered his head and spoke softly. "Are you alone here, child? Are you hurt?"

The fawn simply stared back at him, its lip trembling and ears flattened against its short, stubby bumps that would one day be antlers.

Victus turned to one of the others. "Rockfall, I need you to translate for me."

Rockfall nodded. "Right. I'll do what I can."

"Good. Ask him if he's alone, and if he's wounded."

"Aeswiild," he began. The fawn's ears perked up at the sound of its own language. "Faraas caer binisal? Faraas o'dalyn?"

He's improving, Victus thought. Learning Deertongue had been a wise move.

"N-Nefiir. Dalanas fyyn nara a'lys su...sukiil."

Rockfall shook his head.

"He's by himself, and unharmed. Terrified, but unharmed."

Victus realized they were all spattered with blood and gore, especially Gilias. He would have been terrified, too.

"Now ask him how he got here, and where his parents are."

Again Rockfall spoke, though the longer questions and sharp pains of his wound caused him to stumble and have to repeat himself a few times to the young fawn.

"He...he says he was with the others. He ran away when the fighting started. If I understand correctly, he says he has not seen his parents for a very long time." He asked a question to the fawn in deertongue. "Four moons. That was when he saw them last."

"And who were the others? In the caravan?"

"They were...well, it doesn't have an exact translation, but the closest I can say is that they were his caretakers. He was given to them."

"Given?"

"Yes." Another string of deer language. "His mother and father were 'sleeping and would not wake'. He was given to 'the ones in blue', as he calls them, by...'elders with golden chains'. It's a whitetail cultural thing."

"Given to others. Then he's a slave?"

Rockfall grimaced. "Seems that way."

A commotion swept through the Legionary ranks. Gilias swore to herself. The young fawn spoke again, pointing in the direction of the carts.

"The elders promised he would see his parents again if he went with the ones in blue. He wants to know where Linilyyn is. He keeps asking me."

"I know that name," Gilias said. "Whitetail settlement on the edge of the border with Equestria. Small place, been there maybe six, seven years. It was ransacked by cultists a few months ago. One of my contacts told me about it."

"That poor kid," someone said.

"Can you ask him his name, Rockfall?"

The little deer answered, now on his short legs.

"Aliis."

Victus reached into his satchel and pulled out a small pouch of roughly-chopped carrots and apples, then pulled the cork from his water skin.

"It's okay, Aliis. You're safe now. I promise." He offered the food and drink, setting it on the ground. The deer approached cautiously, sniffing at it, then sat on his haunches and scooped up the pouch. Hunger soon took over, and he chewed at his meal even as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Chiron, Rockfall, Gilias, if you would?" Victus pulled them aside, speaking just above a whisper so as not to disturb the foal. "What do you think?"

"What do I think? I think we were justified in killing every last one of those bastards," Gilias answered

"We still don't know they were all guilty," Rockfall added.

"They're slavers, Equestrian. That is all the proof we need." She kicked at the dirt. "Fucking scum. I'd heard of the cults taking slaves to convert to their beliefs, but to actually see it..."

"Worse than that," Chiron said, "cultist slavers with connections to the Whitetail military itself."

"What, you mean the military sanctioned an attack on its own settlement? That seems hard to believe even for the whitetail." Victus looked back at the fawn, who was, thankfully, still eating. "Still...evidence being what it is, it's entirely possible. We'll take the foal back with us to the encampment. They'll help him from there. Understood?"

As they came back the young fawn asked something to Rockfall.

"He says he wants to give us something as a thank-you for the meal."

Victus smiled comfortingly and approached. Aliis dug at the ground for a few seconds, pulling back wet soil to reveal a small, white emblem the size of a large coin. He handed it to Victus and spoke in deertongue.

"Aliis says he liked to keep this with him when they were on the road. He had to hide it in his pack or the others would get angry with him. Apparently he really likes the design."

Victus wiped away the dirt and grime, and his eyes went wide with recognition. There, in carved ivory, was the image of a deer and a pony chasing one another, their bodies forming a circle around a central star.

"This...this is an emblem. The emblem. Just like the one we tried to procure at the cultist camp."

After so many long weeks of searching, he was finally holding the very object that he'd been after. He didn't know why it was so important to the Nightmare Moon followers, but now he intended to find out.

"He wants to know if you like it," Rockfall said.

Victus placed a hoof over his chest and smiled warmly.

"Tell him I like it very much."