In the time before the Great Divide, Evinwiir was merely another city in the vast machine that made up the Ochrourus Collective, a nation of redtail and whitetail that had existed long before its Equestrian neighbors had come together. It was a farming community back then, modest in size, that served as the storehouse for much of Ochrourus' foodstock. Over the span of decades a network of tunnels grew under the city's rolling hills, and for a time Evinwiir prospered.

Then came the Great Divide, the civil war between redtail and whitetail that tore the nation asunder under banners of hatred and grand talks of racial purity. Hundreds of thousands died, leaving the splintered remnants to rebuild two separate lands -- Whitetail, which proudly wore its heritage on its sleeve, and Cervidae, which would become the Cerivdaen Hegemony. In this time of strife Evinwiir first faltered, then fell, as war crushed its buildings and slaughtered its citizens, but the city that grew from the ashes of the old state was stronger for it. A great wall was constructed to keep out its enemies, and its bountiful harvests fed the fledgling Whitetail. It did not take long for the marble city to become the capital, and in the generations since it had not fallen even once to invaders. Griffons, ponies, even zebras from distant lands -- all were broken against its defenses.

Time, however, had buried the once great tunnel system under earth and stone, leaving only scattered hallways as reminders of its former glory. Most citizens never learned of the city's oldest secrets lying beneath them, and those that did regarded the stories with little interest or concern.

Brother-General Corvalix had certainly counted himself among them -- until the war with Equestria. Suddenly thrust into a position of power after driving an Equestrian bolt through the heart of his commanding officer, Corvalix had taken a great interest in every facet of the whitetail capital, looking to exploit its advantages in any way possible. The Whitetail officers had objected, of course, as he knew they would. A deep distrust still ran in the veins of Whitetail's citizens, even after so many years, but with their nation on the brink of collapse they eventually saw fit to let him and his superior tactical knowledge take charge of much of the military. Evinwiir was still surrounded, but it had not fallen, and Equestria's vaunted Guard had paid deeply for every inch it took.

Now, as Corvalix stepped through the damp halls of the repurposed, partially restored tunnels, he reflected on all he had been through; the years of servitude under the abusive, useless Whitetail officers. The false sympathies he shared with the inferior neighbors of his sister's mighty empire. The countless, cowardly politicians he had dined with and won favor from. It made him sick to think of, but he comforted himself in the knowledge that it would soon be worth it. Elinwynn was nothing if not cautious -- barring her little communication device fiasco -- and if anyone could put an end to the madness, it was her.

A heavy bag was draped across his back, tied off with rope. It strained his muscles as he carried on, the weight bringing grunts of exertion and gritted teeth as he passed by torches burning an otherworldly green. He dared not use his magic, not yet, lest they find him before all was ready.

Long minutes passed before he finally came to a cavernous storage room, deep under the western district of Evinwiir, a scant mile from the capitol building and senate chambers. A series of doors attempted to keep him out, but they were of no concern. Corvalix paused as he entered the vaulted room, admiring it. From floor to ceiling it was stacked with Whitetail's mightiest creation: aetherflame, a thick liquid that burned a sickening green upon the mixing of two concoctions. It had been used to great effect during the battle of the Everfree forest, heaved by the dozen from great siege engines in earthenware two-chambered pots. It had not been enough to stem the tide of the Equestrian attack, but it had proven itself as a powerful alchemical weapon.

Under his guidance, most of Whitetail's remaining stock had been placed in this very room. After all, he'd argued, what good was an aetherflame stockpile if it could fall to a simple Equestrian catapult? The thought of much of the city burning with arcane fire had been all the convincing the Whitetail officers had needed. Corvalix smiled to himself; they were right to be worried. Shame that they hadn't worried about the right thing.

With a sigh of relief he dumped the heavy sack on the floor, gripping a gladius in his mouth. It felt so cold and barbaric, not refined and elegant like a quinn-blade, and he lamented having to touch such a useless thing as he sliced the ropes from the burlap sack.

A battered pony flopped against the dirt, breathing in long, ragged gasps as its unconscious form struggled for air. For a moment Corvalix regarded the Equestrian with sympathy, its bird-like wings broken at grotesque angles and its light green coat spattered with mud and gore. Such a fate was unfitting even of a pony, but sacrifices had to be made. Elinwynn would have accepted no less.

Corvalix pulled a vial from a pouch tied to his foreleg, popped the cork with his teeth, and poured the swirling liquid down the pegasus' throat. It took only a few heartbeats for the pony to stir, its legs twitching as the potion forced life back into its broken form. He stepped back as the pony coughed and gagged, then slowly opened its eyes.

"Get up," Corvalix ordered. The pony looked at him in confusion, a sense of panic dawning across its features as it began to realize it was alone. "I said, get up."

The pony was weak and faltered as it tried to stand. A bout of nausea set in almost immediately, and it vomited on the floor as waves of pain wracked its body. "Where...where am I? Who are you?" it asked in a pleading voice. Corvalix bowed.

"I am Brother-General Corvalix of the Cervidaen Hegemony. First of the Cervidaen army, second of the Court, and overseer of Whitetail operations in their war with Equestria. As for where you are, you will find that you are currently in Evinwiir. Or rather, under it."

"Evinwiir? I don't understand..."

"What is your name, Equestrian?" The pony fell to its knees and clutched its stomach with a moan. "Your name!"

"M-Milites Sugarcloud, Equestrian Guard. What do you--"

"Sugarcloud," Corvalix said mockingly. "You Equestrians have the strangest names."

Sugarcloud's broken wings lifted only partially as the pegasus was clearly trying to make his escape. They crackled like popping firewood, and he screamed as his body let him know that he was not going to be flying anywhere. "Oh Goddesses, what did you do?" he sobbed. "Why am I here? What do you want from me?! I was with the others, and...and then something hit me. I could still hear them..."

"Please, do try to restrain yourself, Sugarcloud. I know you are in a lot of pain, but you are about to be part of something very important."

"I just wanna go home. Please..."

Corvalix ignored the pony's pathetic mewling and motioned to the room around them. "This, my good pegasus, is storeroom Pava'iis. What sits before you is nearly the entirety of Whitetail's trebuchet munitions."

Sugarcloud's eyes went wide. "Emerald fire?" he said just above a whisper.

"If that is your word for it, yes. You are familiar with it?"

"I...I had a good friend die a horrible death to it. Why are you showing me this?"

"Aethiilfaris -- aetherflame -- has a distinct property when stored in large masses. Namely, it becomes explosive. That is where you come in."

"I don't understand..."

Corvalix smiled. "You, my friend, are about to strike a great blow against Whitetail. One that will change the very course of history! That is why I've brought you here. Are you not excited at such a prospect?"

"No! I don't want any part of this. Please, just let me go."

"I'm afraid you've already carved a path of destruction on your way down here. You see, when you found this tunnel, you fought your way past over a dozen of Whitetail's finest. They lie dead, their throats sliced, by your weapon." Corvalix floated the Equestrian sword before himself, its blade covered with drying blood and clumps of matted fur. "Most unfortunate for those involved, almost as if they hadn't had the chance to fight back at all. You were just about to light the aetherflame pots with a torch when I caught up with you."

Sugarcloud could not find a single word as Corvalix gritted his teeth and dug the blade into his own shoulder, drawing a stream of crimson as it sliced through his skin. With a shout he dropped it at his hooves, swearing in his own language. "You resisted my attempts to subdue you, and once I was forced to use my magic the Whitetail encampment above was alerted. Magically attuned runes in the walls, you see. You fought bravely, and even managed to evade my capture. They will find you, of course, but only briefly. Ultimately your mission will be a success! Imagine it: ten thousand pots filled with otherworldly fire, just waiting to be unleashed. It will be a glorious display."

Terrified by the buck before him, Sugarcloud tried to grab for the weapon that was just out of his reach. Corvalix's antlers flared bright emerald and crackled with energy, subduing the pony in place. Sugarcloud struggled against the magical field keeping him from moving, but he was far too weak. He resisted only for a few moments before sobbing hopelessly.

"Please, let me go! I don't want to be here!" From a saddlebag Corvalix produced a short quinn-blade, its conical form glittering in the torchlight. "No, please! I-I never wanted to fight! I'm just a scroll clerk!"

"Shhhh, do not fret, Sugarcloud," Corvalix said quietly. "Your deeds will live on, for I will tell them to the entire nation. You will be remembered for all time."

"Oh Goddesses, please help me!" The quinn-blade floated beside Sugarcloud, twisting in the air. Corvalix noticed the Equestrian had pissed himself in fear. Such a pathetic display for a soldier. "Pl-please don't tell my mom I died like this..."

For a brief moment Corvalix felt a pang of regret at what had to be done, but his sister would not tolerate failure. He plunged the blade through the knees of the pony's forelegs, too focused on his magic to care about the screams that came with it.

Corvalix withdrew his blade and kept it at his side, regarding the pony with something resembling sympathy. It had ceased any attempt at resisting, huddling on the ground and weeping openly.

With a deep breath he pulled a torch from its wall sconce and kicked open a container of jars, their grass padding spilling out at his hooves. He tossed the torch, hesitating for only a second or two when Sugarcloud called out to him, and immediately sprinted back down the hallway to the main tunnel. He wouldn't have long.

Just as he'd suspected, a large force of Whitetail regulars met him halfway, fully equipped with armor and weapons.

"Sir!" one of them saluted. "What's going on?"

"There...there was an Equestrian here," Corvalix answered, clutching his bleeding shoulder. "I wounded him, but he lost me somewhere down there! I was just heading back to find you!" He motioned behind him and spoke with the utmost urgency. "If you hurry you can still stop him! I think he's heading for the aetherflame room!"

"Of course, sir!" the buck said. "With me, brothers!"

As one the whitetail galloped away into the darkness. Corvalix allowed himself a momentary victory before making all due speed for the tunnel exit, passing dead soldiers all the way. Their sacrifices would be remembered.

Moonlight streamed in through the windows of the wide double doors, and Corvalix pushed through them with a burst of magic before running off to the safety of the woods.

It was a cold night in Evinwiir as Chancellor Vinawyll knocked back a small glass of fruited wine, letting its warmth spread through his body. There were precious few times he could simply be by himself, alone with his thoughts -- preferably ones that didn't involve politics. He smiled to himself as Belitryys, his favorite of his many does, mumbled in her sleep before turning over in his bed. He knew she didn't truly care for him, not as a wife would, but she had proven remarkable in her talents between the sheets as well as her eagerness to comfort him. So long as she did so, he would continue to shower her with gifts and coin.

With nothing but the chill winds of winter and the crackling of torches to worry about, he rested his weary head against the pillows of his chair, content for the first time in days.

Then there came a rumbling, deep and terrible like a thunderstorm, that shook the very balcony he stood upon. Emerald torches jilted in their sconces and countless objects fell from the large tables spread out around his quarters. Belitryys awoke with a start and immediately ran to Vinawyll's side, still only half-awake, a look of confusion and panic evident on her fine features.

"What's happening?" she asked over the tremors. A large painting clattered to the ground, shattering its delicate frame. Vinawyll was about to answer when he was thrown from his hooves by an unseen force, skidding along the polished marble floor and knocking his antlers against the wall as a blast louder than anything he'd ever heard threatened to deafen him. Concussed and weary, he stumbled back to the balcony, whereupon he saw the dark, green-tinted cloud of smoke that had begun to rise a short distance from the palace. It roiled and churned against the night sky, like dragon flame, and long, jagged streaks of green lightning arced across its surface. For a moment he stared in disbelief and wonder as the massive plume pushed itself ever higher.

Then came the debris, like a torrential downpour of earth and flame. Burning chunks of teal-colored fire and burnt masonry clattered around him, and he shielded Belitryys as they ducked back inside. She shouted and buried her head in the crook of his neck, praying aloud for it to stop. The hellish rain continued for what felt like hours, clods of dirt and shards of pottery covering the balcony.

A harsh silence was all that met his ringing ears as he kicked at the flaming bits of material, stomping them out and kicking them over the side along with clumps of grass and soil once it was safe to do so.

Then he heard it: a distant din of voices that was growing ever louder. Screams of pain and panic, so many of them he couldn't begin to wonder which direction they came from. It terrified him beyond words, and as he peered into the city below he saw the fires spreading. Dozens of them, burning with a fury to match their sickening appearance and sending long tongues reaching skyward to lick at the cloud of smoke that now covered nearly all of Evinwiir.

And in the distance, lit by a ring of flame and burning buildings, he saw the crater that had once been the financial district. Crumbling homes and businesses fell into its gaping maw that glowed from within, like a great beast of unimaginable horror. He fell to his haunches, helpless to stop it, and he watched his city burn from within.

The great halls of Evinwiir's senate building were alive with commotion, the din of a thousand voices vying to be heard over one another, one step removed from anarchy. Senators, land barons, indentured servant masters; the well-to-do, the elite and powerful of Whitetail's society who had survived the night. All thought themselves more worthy of speaking than their compatriots. Whitetail, it seemed, was facing destruction at the hooves of the Equestrian invaders, and no amount of propaganda and carefully chosen words could conceal that fact any longer.

"Please, we must have order!" Chancellor Vinawyll shouted over the others, but his plea was lost to the gathered crowd like a drop of rain in the ocean. Again he tried, and again his words fell on deaf ears. He could hear the senators mocking him from behind, their casual barbs couched in flowery language and pleasant tones when they weren't outright insulting him.

How he hated them, despised them to the last. Nothing had been the same since Chancellor Artellus had fallen to an Equestrian's blade. Gone was the confident stag that had stood watch over Whitetail for three decades, and with him, the confidence of the Senate. Vinawyll had ruled to the best of his ability after having been promoted to Chancellor, but it was a constant uphill struggle to keep himself in power. As he looked upon the crowd he wished he could be the leader they wanted, but such a thing was easier said than done.

"Chancellor," a voice beckoned with a mocking tone. Vinawyll turned to face the gathered politicos, his dangling gold chains swaying from his antlers. A length of emerald silk hung between the tallest prongs like a banner, a symbol of power that felt increasingly hollow as time dragged on.

"Senator Andorys, you have something to say?" he asked in a near-shout to be heard over the crowd, putting on a false smile.

"Me? Oh, no, no, not in the least. But they do." The old stag pointed to the masses that filled the great chamber and spilled out into the hallways, a smug grin crossing his face.

"So I have noticed. Truly your skill in perception is second only to your skill with wise words, Senator." Vinawyll lifted a hoof and spoke above the crowd to no avail. "Damnation," he muttered. "Maybe we deserve whatever the unwashed Equestrians bring upon us."

"I had expected such a ruckus following last night's incident, but this is far beyond anything I've seen. How fascinating."

Vinawyll eyed the senator in disbelief. "Fascinating? That's what you would call the deaths of hundreds of our citizens?"

"Of course not! But one truly must admire the bravery and skill of someone who has not only the initiative, but the means at his disposal to single-hoofedly fight his way through one of the most well-guarded places in all of Whitetail! Were it not for the good Brother-General, we may never have known what happened."

Indeed, Corvalix had told them exactly what he'd seen. A single soldier, tearing through guards like they weren't even there, pursued by the Brother-General who had heard a commotion and come running. Wounded for his efforts, his valiant attempt to stop the treacherous attack was ultimately thwarted, a fact he'd expressed the deepest of regrets over.

A figure caught Vinawyll's eye as it made its way through the gathered deer, taller by half a head than most of the others, with glimmering, crystalline armor flecked with gold standing as sharp contrast to the earthy browns and white spots of the whitetail coats around him. He bowed his head in reverence, thankful for the chance to speak with someone who wasn't completely incompetent.

"Chancellor Vinawyll, you seem to have a problem on quite a large scale."

"More than you can know, Corvalix."

The Brother-General still showed signs of his struggle with the damnable Equestrian, a set of bandages over his shoulder that were stained with blood. "Mind if I offer my assistance?" the redtail asked.

"By all means."

Green energy crackled between Corvalix's tall antlers, and after a brief pause his voice bellowed across the room, amplified to a booming shout.

"KARIIS!"

The yelling and arguing came to an abrupt end as nearly a thousand deer stopped what they were doing and looked up at the tall stag with the commanding voice. Corvalix bowed and stepped back, allowing Chancellor Vinawyll to take his place at the forefront of the raised platform.

"Thank you, Brother-General," he said to the now-silent hall. "I trust we can conduct the rest of this meeting like adults, yes? I should certainly hope so." The senators murmured behind him; he ignored them as best he could. "Now, I realize there are a lot of concerns to address, not the least of which is the fact that someone set off our stores of aetherflame. It is my understanding--"

"Concerns? My family lies dead, burnt beyond recognition, and you call this a 'concern'?!"

The voice in the crowd was echoed by many others, and Vinawyll motioned for silence. Thankfully, they listened.

"Please. As I was saying: it is my understanding that this was the work of a solitary individual. We do not yet know how he managed to get past so many of our own. Perhaps he took it upon himself to expedite the war in his side's favor, rather than wait with the rest of his outfit."

"Do you think the people fools, Chancellor?" Senator Alyyn, a young and hot-headed Senator from the northern lands, rose to be seen. "This is not the work of some lone individual, this is a gross act of slaughter by our enemies! The Equestrians have taken Quillyyn Keep, and now they seek to destroy us from within! We will slaughter them like the filth they are!" He raised a hoof, drawing a cheer and stomps of approval from the crowd. "Evinwiir's great walls have not fallen since their construction ten generations ago! They stopped the griffons and the Saddle Arabians, and they will stop the Equestrians!"

"And how many of us will die before that happens, Senator? How many will fall as our depleted ranks crash against the numerically superior Equestrian Guard?" the Chancellor asked.

"As many as is necessary. Whitetail does not falter. Not now, not ever."

"I see. So you would take up arms and fight along the wall with the rest of the military? I shall have a blade created for you. Perhaps I should stud it with diamonds and have it carried for you by a fawn-servant?"

The others laughed, and the Senator slumped into his seat. For all of his hot-headed blustering, Alyyn was like a fat house cat -- pampered and impotent, able to do nothing more than screech at shadows.

"While his words are brash," another senator added, "his sentiment is proper. We were taken by surprise when the ponies proved to be capable of war, but that time has passed. We know their strengths and their weaknesses. We need only exploit them."

"And train our guards to not be so incompetent," someone else muttered.

"With all due respect, Senator, those who died at Quillyyn Keep would speak to the contrary. If we truly knew the ins and outs of Equestrian doctrine we would not be in this position."

"And what would you propose we do in answer to this disgusting atrocity that has been committed upon the peace-loving citizens of Evinwiir? Ask the Equestrians to play nice? We must repay blood with blood!"

"Enough, Senator! Though it pains me to say it, we cannot win this war in our current state. Not alone." There was a murmur as Chancellor Vinawyll looked to Brother-General Corvalix, who stood imposingly in his glinting armor. "I would like your input on the matter, my good officer."

Corvalix let only the barest hint of a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. Vinawyll knew fully what he was asking. Corvalix had played the role of a fighter for many years; now he had to play the part of a savior. "As a redtail? As a soldier? Or as a believer in the Whitetail cause?" He asked, glancing out over the crowd.

"As a trusted friend."

"Very well." Corvalix stood tall and proud, colored sunlight shining on his armor from the stained glass windows that lined the arched ceiling. He paused, well-versed in the intricacies of public speaking by years of training under his parents and sister. The whitetail would listen to him. He simply had to choose his words.

"Citizens of Whitetail, allow me to introduce myself. Some of you may be familiar with me, but for those who are not: I am Brother-General Corvalix of Cerivade's Royal Lineage -- son of Thuryyn, and brother to Empress Elinwyyn of the Cervidaen Hegemony. For twenty-three years I have served as a ranking soldier in the Cervidaen military, and I am proud to say that for the last eight of those years I have acted as an adviser to the greater Whitetail forces. It was my great honor to serve alongside Brother-General Felnaris in the battle of the Everfree forest, may the ancestors watch over his soul."

And toss it into the Pits of Undeath, he thought. He no more mourned the loss of the incompetent, cruel Brother-General than he mourned the loss of an insect under his hooves.

"Some of you, no doubt, are asking yourselves why the good Chancellor puts his trust in a foreigner, a redtail. To which I say: the nation of Whitetail, and its people, are my brothers and sisters."

He began to pace back and forth, speaking with authority.

"Many years ago, before the founding of Whitetail and Cervidae, we were a single people. A proud people. But that pride gave way to resentment, jealousy, fear. The time of the Great Divide saw neighbor stand against neighbor, redtail against whitetail."

He laughed, bitter and quick, at the thought.

"It is ironic that we now fight the Equestrians. As our people were splitting from within, the three races of Equestria -- unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony -- were unifying. Gone were the days of separate tribes held together only by the will, and sometimes, the force, of their winged unicorn rulers. Since that time, Equestria has grown stable and prosperous. We, as whitetail, as redtail, waged war with one another for two generations, eventually settling on the borders we now share. Born in blood, we believed the Equestrians to be weak. Even now, as your nation stands on the brink of disaster, there are many here who still believe in the inferiority of the ponies. I ask you: how many lives have been wasted by your pompous arrogance?"

The murmur of the crowd and the angry shouts were exactly what he was expecting. He gave them their insults, let them hurl foul words and stomp their hooves.

"You cannot win alone! You will not win alone!" he shouted back at them.

They called him a traitor, and still he stood his ground. He knew they were scared of the Equestrians, terrified of the thought of losing friends and family to another 'attack'. They would side with him, if he provided a way to put their minds at ease.

"However," he said at last, raising a foreleg. The crowd quieted. "However...I hold no love for the equines or their leader, Princess Celestia. Whatever they may be, they are still cowards who slaughtered families in their homes at River Run, who assassinated the beloved Chancellor Artellus, who murder our soldiers who seek nothing more than to escort fleeing civilians away from the battle lines, and who, last night, visited such a terrible crime upon our city. Indeed, some of those fires still burn, a reminder of Equestrian cruelty for all to see. Can we truly trust a princess who banished her own sister to the moon, who authorized such injustices against our people, to show mercy? I would answer: no, we cannot."

Chancellor Vinawyll took over for the battle-scarred soldier with a grand gesture.

"It is for this reason, my brothers and sisters, that Brother-General Corvalix stands before you today as the representative of Empress Elinwyyn and the Cervidaen Hegemony. On her behalf, he has come to make an offer to the people of this great nation!"

Finally, it was time. Corvalix stood at the edge of the platform, projecting an air of leadership and strength that none could deny. This was the moment he had waited for, prepared to face for months and years.

"Whitetail!" he bellowed. "For too long we have stood as opposites, split by our petty squabbles and pointless civil wars! For too long have we seen each other as enemies! I say to you: no more!"

A commotion started to spread through the crowd, excited voices.

"I have served alongside your sons, your brothers, your fathers, and found them to be good! To be righteous! And yet here we stand, on the brink of annihilation by the invading Equestrians! Would you see all that they have sacrificed, all that you have lost, be for nothing?"

The sound of stomping hooves and impassioned shouts threatened to drown him out as he turned and pointed off to the distance, where Cervidae's borders distantly waited.

"Out there, beyond the forests, ten thousand Cervidaen Exemplars stand ready! Behind them, sixty thousand Cervidaen Regulars! Together, they comprise a force unrivaled in all the lands! Let us join you, brothers and sisters, and together we will defeat the equine invaders! Together, we will be strong!" Some of the senators shouted in approval. "The united forces of Deerkind will wash over them like a great wave and scour them from the earth! Together, we will win this war!"

The gathered whitetail were nearly at a frenzy, yelling for revenge and pleading with their leaders. Corvalix gave a subtle grin to the Chancellor, even as the Senate fought amongst itself. There were those who resisted the idea, called it blasphemous and impulsive. Their objections were lost in the sea of support for Corvalix and Vinawyll.

"This is madness!" an elderly senator insisted, hastily stepping down from his seat and standing before the pair. "Artellus would have never stood for such a thing! You are making a terrible mistake!"

"Artellus is dead, Senator," Vinawyll stated flatly over the roar of arguments and supportive voices.

"You are too young, Vinawyll Sepsus! Too young and too brash! You do not remember a time before prosperity, but I do! The Cervidaens will never treat us as equals! We will be slaves to the last once this war is over, mark my words!"

Corvalix glared at him. "You old fool. Do you really believe we would shun our brethren so? Times change, as do our leaders. Empress Elinwyyn would never consider such a barbaric act."

"I will not be disrespected by a mere redtail soldier, Corvalix! I know all about what happened at the battle of Everfree, how you 'miraculously' survived while our trusted Brother-General died. I don't trust you or your disgusting wretch of a sister any more than I trust a coiled snake!"

Corvalix slapped the senator across the mouth with his armored hoof, drawing a stream of blood and gasps from the senators.

"Speak of my sister again, Senator, and I will show you why I am more than a 'mere' redtail soldier."

Shaking in disbelief and fury, the senator pleaded with Vinawyll.

"Please, Chancellor, you must not listen to him! He will bring naught but ruin to Whitetail!"

Vinawyll stood firm, brushing spots of blood spatter from his emerald robes.

"Go clean yourself up, Senator, and return to your seat. There will be a vote to decide Whitetail's future. That is where you may make your voice heard."

As the old stag hesitantly left the room, Vinawyll looked upon his people with renewed enthusiasm. Word would spread quickly of salvation from the Equestrians -- and with it, the hope of a future for the whitetail. Any who stood in the way would find themselves shunned, left by the wayside. In a matter of weeks Equestria would burn, and from its ashes would rise a stronger nation for his people to call home.

"Do you realize what you ask of us, Chancellor? This is no mere alliance for the sake of convenience, this has the potential for our nation to disappear entirely." Senator Vaxilis was ardently opposed to Vinawyll's -- and Corvalix's -- plans to combat the Equestrian invaders, and he was not alone in his dissent. Now moved away from the shouting masses, Vinawyll and the nineteen senators in charge of Whitetail's affairs debated in the privacy of his personal chambers. The balcony was still a mess from the previous night's attack, which only seemed to inflame the emotions of all involved. It was an immediate reminder of what they faced.

"I think you misunderstand our intentions, Senator," Vinawyll said, trying to appease him. "Corvalix has no intention of seeing Whitetail destroyed. In fact, he's offering quite the opposite."

"Just because we're not razed to the ground, it doesn't mean we won't lose everything we've worked for. Corvalix may be a trustworthy sort but his sister is another matter entirely. Have you spoken with her?"

"Not at length, no."

"Mark my words: she cannot be trusted, and no amount of Cervidaen soldiers will convince me otherwise. She is a charlatan like her mother and grandmother before her. Cervidae cares only for expanding its own borders. Any 'help' they offer is merely buying time until they can slip a knife into our back."

"And what have you done to keep Whitetail strong, Vaxilis?" A younger senator asked. "Last I checked, our forces lie in shambles and our most ancient of strongholds has fallen. Nothing stands between us and the entirety of Equestria's might. Corvalix is offering a way out, an answer to our problems. I say we take it!" Words of encouragement and anger answered him in equal parts.

The eldest senator, a stag named Fondriis, stepped forward and addressed the others. He wore the wrappings of someone who had served for much of his life, and his presence commanded respect. Half of the prongs on his antlers were missing or severed to stumps, a lasting scar from the conflict with the griffons of Skytalon before most of the others had even been born. "My friends, if I may?" he asked in a shaky, straining voice. "I have been blessed with a long life, and in my many years I have seen three Chancellors stand in this very room; first Ty'rellian, then Artellus, and now our good Vinawyll. I have yet to see any of them lead this nation astray, but I have also seen that many of the old ways we hold as tradition are no longer relevant. Namely, the long-standing feud between ourselves and our cousins across the border."

Another senator answered him. "With all due respect, Senator Fondriis, the redtail of Cervidae have shown themselves to be interested in nothing but war and expansion. Their lands have doubled in the last two generations."

"They have doubled, yes," Fondriis said, "but none of it was Whitetail territory. Scattered tribes, remnants of days gone by, small villages still clinging to the old ways...those were the peoples that Cervidae took unto itself. The time of strife between deer is long over, and with Brother-General Corvalix's support, we finally have a chance to put all of this bad blood behind us. Would you not agree, Chancellor?"

Vinawyll bowed respectfully as the senator took his seat once more. The old stag's words were sensible, and fewer voices objected now than had mere moments before. In truth, they comforted Vinawyll more than he would have cared to admit; the alliance between whitetail and redtail made him nervous, for many reasons, but with his nation locked into a desperate fight for survival he could hardly refuse the help. Corvalix, for all of his charms, was a snake, but perhaps it was better to have a snake at your side than behind your back.

"Wise words, Senator Fondriis. I thank you for them, and I would agree entirely."

The young senator from the north stood once more. "What guarantee do we have that Cervidae will not simply annex us, provided we win this war? How do we know they will not seek revenge for countless generations of mutual slaughter?"

"There is no guarantee, of course, but I find such a thing highly unlikely. Do you truly view the redtail as monsters? What about the does and fawns? The farmers? The artisans and tradebucks? Should we cower in our homes when a caravan of vegetables rolls through the gates?" Scattered chuckles answered him, but the senator was plainly not amused.

"It is not the potter or merchant I fear, Chancellor, but the soldiers, and the ones in charge of them."

"And why is that? They are deer, just like us. They use the same weapons, they create the same houses, they forge the same armor. They are different only in name and slight appearance. I understand that such things were enough to warrant some deluded sense of pride in days past, but if we are to survive as a people then we cannot allow the ignorance of those times to cloud our judgment."

A senator in the back row was the next to make his voice heard. "Suppose we do carry through with this alliance of yours. There will be rioting in the streets! The hatred of our neighbors is not something that is easily forgotten or forgiven."

"I will take riots and mobs over siege and destruction," Vinawyll said firmly.

"And you, Chancellor, will be mocked as redtail-lover. Your very life would be in danger!"

"My life is in danger every moment of every day, Senator. I am a cautious buck, unlike my predecessor."

The senator scoffed. "You'll be a dead one if this goes through."

"Is that a threat?"

"From me? Of course not! But there are many out there who will resist. Win or lose, you will be hated. That is simply the way of things."

Vinawyll approached the senator and stuck a hoof out at his chest. "Do you truly think I'm not aware of this, Senator? This is not about me, this is about Whitetail and its continued survival. If I am to be shunned for my actions then I am confident that history itself will venerate me." Of course, he also planned to surround himself with Cervidae's finest at all hours of the day, lest one of his detractors draw a knife across his throat. If Whitetail's crumbling military could not protect him, Corvalix's own would. He had no dreams of dying a martyr for his cause. "Before the vote is cast, my fellow bucks," he stated as he returned to his place before them, "I ask you only to consider one question: is our pride more important than our families? If Evinwiir, if Whitetail, is to burn to the ground, then all of our proud histories and tales will amount to nothing more than pleas for mercy in the face of overwhelming defeat. I beg of you: set aside your prejudices, and join me in uniting our peoples for the first time in centuries."

He allowed the senators time to debate with each other, long minutes that seemed to drag on as his heart threatened to jump from his chest. If his words resounded with the others then it would be a truly historical moment. He only hoped the future would bring true cooperation. If not, then his tenure as Chancellor would be very short indeed.

"Now," he said as calmly as he could, "who is with me?"