Battle-Master Gilias came up high over a ridge, and the full scale of the Nightmare Moon encampment came into view. She was about to call back to her pegasi when a volley of arrows snapped past the formation, catching a few unfortunate ponies at the rear of the formation in the chest and neck; they'd seen her coming, somehow, somewhere.

"Shit," she muttered, then called out behind her. "Stay close! Ready your bundles!"

More arrows flitted up to meet her, and she dodged out of the way with deft movements of her wings. Now the arrows were joined by a number of larger projectiles -- magically-tossed daggers, spears, even a few of the explosive whitetail pots. They were poorly aimed, likely thrown in desperation and panic, but she knew even a random weapon could bring you down if it connected.

Far below her the Equestrian ground forces were advancing, having to squeeze through the narrow pass three at a time. It seemed no one had noticed them yet. That was some good fortune, at least.

Now directly over the camp, Gilias grasped the trailing ends of the wrapped bundles on either side of her body, ready to unleash their contents on the unfortunate creatures below. A quick glance confirmed that the others had done the same. Just a few more seconds...

"Release!"

A firm yank ripped open the twine-wrapped packs, and within seconds the air was filled with hundreds of tiny metallic darts. Some of the cultists saw the attack coming and tried to move out of the way, but many were unable to escape the deadly rain of needle-sharp projectiles. Dozens of the enemy fell at once, punctured and bleeding from multiple, piercing wounds. Not even those in armor were safe as the darts found gaps and sunk themselves deep into flesh and bone. Shouts and screams of pain confirmed that they had been on target as Gilias and her pegasi made a sharp turn toward the front of the fort.

"Swords out and pricks up!" she ordered, drawing her own weapons. A Legionary immediately to her left was impaled by a spear that pinned his right wing to his waist, and he tumbled to the ground in a death spiral, where he was immediately set upon by half a dozen angry cultists. Someone shouted his name and dove for the ground in vengeance. It was as good a place as any to touch down. "Gut the sons of whores! Move!"

Shouts of "For Equestria!" rang out from all around her as she tucked her wings in and dove for the ground, swords at her sides. With scant feet to go she unfurled them again, skimming the surface, and brought her blades forward with vicious swipes that decapitated two earth ponies and tore into the throat of a zebra before barreling into a unicorn mare with all of her might. The impact sent them tumbling into a tent, limbs flailing as they tried to get the better of one another, and Gilias dug her talons into her victim until spurts of blood erupted from her neck. The pony thrashed and grabbed at her throat in panic before a sword cleaved her head in two.

Dazed from the impact, Gilias stood up and quickly took note of her surroundings: pegasi from her detachment were fighting a vicious battle spread throughout the left corner of the fort. They were brave and skilled, but with every second that passed more cultists were rushing over to fight them.

She turned just in time to see a whitetail in purple robes galloping at her, his head down in an attempt to impale her on his antlers, and she jumped back to avoid him. A prong tore a gash along her cheek as he passed, spinning her around with a sharp pain that nearly blinded her, but she was quick to gain her bearings. She brought her curved swords together in a low attack, feeling, rather than seeing, the buck's left foreleg and hind leg get sliced from his body. He skidded to a halt, screaming and leaving a bloody trail behind him, and Gilias brought her weapons down on his neck with all of her strength and a shouted swear.

The battle had just begun, and already she had added five to her tally. The pain made her strong, kept her focused, and she thanked the Emperor for her years of training and experience before taking to the air to find her next victim. She just hoped the Equestrians on the ground would get to the gates before her pegasi were destroyed.

"Quickly! Spread out and reform the lines once you break through!"

Dozens of guardsmen had already pushed through the pass, but the sheer number of bodies trying to move through was causing a bottleneck. The sound of battle echoed around them, and Sanctus knew the pegasi were engaged in a desperate fight to buy the advancing ground forces time.

"Your battle brothers are dying in there, and every second that passes is another second we're not avenging them!"

Half of the formation, nearly two hundred and fifty ponies, had squeezed through before the first scorpio bolt clattered off the rock wall behind them. The cultists had finally noticed them.

"Keep your shields up, dammit!"

It took mere seconds for the bombardment to intensify, the scattered crossbow fire now joined by flaming arrows and massive, powerful ballista bolts that pierced through shield, armor and flesh alike. The front rows, comprised entirely of green troops, were beginning to panic. Sanctus counted on the veteran principes to keep them in line and encourage them to fight on, even as a pony pushing through the gap caught an arrow directly in the chest. The flaming bundle attached to it burst on impact, spraying gobs of flaming oil that ignited his coat and quickly consumed him. Sanctus stuck his blade through the burning stallion's skull, an unfortunate but necessary mercy, and waved the others through.

"Centurion Starfire!" he shouted above the noise, three-quarters of the soldiers now past the choke point. "We need those siege engines up and operational!"

Starfire stood on his hind legs to be seen above the others. "We can't move them through until everyone is out of the way! Tell your stallions to hurry up!"

"They are hurrying!" he retorted. There were still over a hundred of them left to push through, but the constant barrage was beginning to take its toll on those who kept in formation. Shields could stop arrows and light bolts, but scorpio and ballista shots passed right through. If they didn't hurry, there wouldn't be much of a force left to storm the fort.

A short axe flashed by Gilias' head and dug itself into a wooden ramp behind her. She responded quickly, picking up a fallen crossbow at her claws and snap-shotting it into the face of the pony who had dared attack her.

The battle was still going in her favor, but every pegasus that fell to an enemy blade or arrow made it harder for her to keep the group together. Where the hell were the damned Guard? She had little time to wonder before she was set upon by a pair of whitetail who floated long, sharp quinn-blades before them. Unlike most of the others, they wore the thick armor of a proper soldier. She snapped off the remaining two shots from her crossbow, swearing as they bounced off harmlessly, and took a flapping leap backward to put distance between herself and the enemy.

A splash of warm blood coated her hindquarters, accompanied by a shrill scream-- she hoped it wasn't from one of her own. The momentary diversion allowed the whitetail to advance, thrusting their conical blades in flashes of green magic. She deflected their attacks with practiced skill, but as she was fighting one the other stomped his forelegs onto the hard, snow-covered ground. Twin blades locked into place over his knees.

The buck rushed forward with a shout, flailing with three weapons at once, and Gilias saw a flash of motion as the other whitetail did the same. Now facing six possible attacks at once, she took to the sky. Then there was a sound like crackling thunder, and she felt herself slam into the ground, her body wrapped in arcing magic. She struggled against it, barely able to do anything more than slowly step back. Everything felt heavy. Her weapons were like anvils in her grasp, and her armor pulled her down. The whitetail bucks grinned as they charged her, and Gilias desperately tried to escape.

Four pegasi crashed down on top of the whitetail, swinging their swords and using their momentum to bring the cultists down where they could not fight back. One of them had a mace attached to a ring on his right foreleg's guard; he brought it around and down, and when it connected with the crystal-like armor it produced a shower of sparkling fragments and a spray of blood. The whitetail on the right immediately ceased struggling, the side of his head crushed by the force of the mighty weapon. His compatriot soon fell as well, but not before jamming his quinn-blade up through the chin of an unfortunate pegasus.

"That's twice you've saved my ass," Gilias said weakly as the magical field finally faded. Steel Spark offered a hoof and helped her back up.

"We're losing stallions. I don't know how much longer we can hold out."

"To the last, if need be." Her body ached all over, but Gilias carried on. She had no choice. But her force now numbered less than forty, and they were counting on her to see them through the day. "Rally up! Combat circle on me!"

If she couldn't overwhelm the Nightmare Moon followers with sheer force of violence, she could at least make them pay in blood for every life they took.

At the fort's entrance, the entirety of the Guard cohort had finally made it through with the loss of two dozen of their number. Now able to assume a proper formation, Equestria's soldiers kept their shield wall in place, quickly filling any gaps left by the wounded or dead.

"Archers, at the ready! Watch your aim, else you'll overshoot and hit our own!"

At the rear of the formation, nearly fifty ponies drove their weapons into the ground on sharp stakes. These were not the ordinary bows of everyday combat, but longbows. Their draw strings required so much force that nary a unicorn could hope to maintain focus on them, which left the task of nocking and firing to strong, capable earth ponies. Each of them took aim with a steel-tipped arrow, pulling back on the strings with a collective creaking of iron-backed wood.

"Loose!"

A volley of arrows shot through the air, faster and more accurate than any comparable weapon in Equestria's arsenal, and in a matter of seconds they found their marks along the ramparts. Handfuls of Nightmare Moon followers slumped over the walls or were thrown back by the force of the impacts, and a cheer went up along the Guard's lines.

Centurion Sanctus galloped alongside his stallions, encouraging them to keep their spirits high and their shields up. Behind him, a trio of siege engines were slowly rolling into place under the protection of their iron plates. They were instrumental in the next phase of the plan.

"At the ready!" another centurion ordered, and the archers pulled another volley from their long quivers. "Loose!"

The twang of recoiling longbows and the impacts of arrowheads into wood and flesh drowned out the sounds of battle for a long second. More victims fell, but others rose to take their places.

How many of the bastards are there? Sanctus wondered in annoyance and frustration. Grunts of exertion and the straining of ropes signaled that the catapults were readying to fire. Only one volley left for the archers, then.

"Archers, ready ice arrows!"

Cautiously but quickly, each archer pulled a cloth package from their quivers and unwrapped them, revealing jagged, translucent arrows of light blue ice that emitted a constant fog of frost, matching the breaths of their owners. Ice arrows -- the product of some of Equestria's most talented arcanists -- were difficult to make, expensive to transport, and dangerous if handled incorrectly, but when properly deployed they could have devastating effects. The success or failure of the attack hinged on their use.

"Once that gate is open, we're going to charge through and drive those fanatical whoresons before our blades! Are you with me?" Centurion Sanctus asked.

"Aye, sir!" they answered as one.

The archers were ready, the catapults loaded, and his stallions were eager for battle. He hoped everything worked as it was supposed to.

"Are you with me?!" he shouted, raising his weapon above his head.

"Aye, sir!"

As one the archers loosed their arrows. The magically formed projectiles flashed by, leaving trails of sparkling ice crystals on their way to the fort. There was a resounding thwack as most of their number buried themselves in the fort's large wooden gate, though a few had gone high and either missed completely or impaled some unfortunate victims. Those who were not killed outright were flash-frozen where they lie.

At the same time, the arrows in the fort's gate exploded in a burst of magic. Long tendrils of ice rapidly snaked their way through the thick wood with loud pops and sprays of icy splinters. The gate groaned and squealed, and within seconds it was covered in rime.

The assembled Guard formation was alive with murmurs of surprise and delight at the new weapons, a much-needed morale boost after the confusion that had reigned only minutes before. Centurion Sanctus marveled along with them, glad he was not on the receiving end of such magics.

"Catapults, fire!"

The mighty siege engines wasted no time hurling their heavy projectiles at the now-weakened gate, stone balls that whooshed overhead like the flapping of phoenixes. They slammed into their target with great crunches of frozen wood, shattering it like it was made of glass and opening a hole large enough to march the entire formation through without pause. Another cheer went up as Sanctus and the other centurions hefted their shields and pointed their weapons at the carnage before them.

"Forward! For Equestria! For the Princess! Hah-ooh!"

He broke into a gallop, and the soldiers at his side let out a battle cry that echoed for miles around.

The Guard had finally broken through. As their thundering hooves signaled the inevitable end of the Nightmare Moon camp, Battle-Master Gilias urged her remaining pegasi to stand their ground. They needed only buy a few moments until the majority of the Equestrian soldiers were inside the walls, but with an increasingly depleted force Gilias wasn't sure they could hold out. Their strength was down to half, slowly depleted by lucky arrow strikes or suicidal charge attacks.

"Up and away on my command!" she shouted as she finished off an earth pony with a stab to the gut. The cultists had fought hard, harder than she'd ever seen, but now the tide of the battle had truly turned against them. It was only a matter of time before they fell, and then Celestia would get all of the intel she could handle about her sister's little band of fanatics.

The charging ponies crashed into a waiting line of cultists in a mass of tumbling bodies and flashing weapons, fighting as a single unit, an impenetrable wall of shields and thrusting swords that steadily pushed back the defenders. Behind the main line, a secondary group of unicorns and earth ponies began to advance, formed into squares of nine soldiers each. A trumpeting horn sounded from the center-most square, and Gilias knew she would finally be able to have a moment's reprieve.

"Get ready!"

At the center of each square, a unicorn gathered glowing light at the end of his horn that rapidly grew brighter, until they were like miniature suns. The same tactic that had proven so valuable against the Whitetail at the battle of Everfree would now be put to use against the cultists.

In a series of rapid flashes the formation disappeared, blinking from existence.

"Now! Up, Equestrians!"

Springing from the ground, Gilias and her pegasi split off in all directions, heading for the outer canyon walls. Just as they cleared out, the unicorn formations re-materialized right where she'd been standing, galloping as fast as they could with their spears in front of them. They fanned out from the center, tearing into the cultists with ruthless efficiency. The red cloaks at the front of each group flapped in the freezing winds and sparkled with magical backwash, and Gilias allowed herself an amused smile at the cunning and skill of the Legionaries she'd grown so familiar with. Nightmare Moon's finest didn't stand a chance in hell.

Caught between the Guard phalanx before them, and the Legion-led unicorns behind them, the cultists' will to fight buckled as rapidly as their formations. A large segment fought on to the last, killing with fanatical abandon, but they, too, were destroyed in the end. In increasing numbers the survivors threw down their weapons and bowed their heads in surrender, and slowly the sounds of battle were reduced to almost nothing.

Centurion Sanctus hobbled alongside his stallions, his left foreleg bloody from a piercing quinn-blade strike. Compared to many, he had barely been touched.

"I say we gut every last one of 'em," a soldier said, still brandishing his shield and sword that were thick with gore and spatter. Several others echoed his sentiment. Sanctus knocked his tower shield into the rocky ground, now slick with melting snow and freezing blood, and raised his voice.

"We do not harm prisoners, milites. And that goes for all of you! If I find out any of you disobeyed my orders, and the orders of the Crown, I will personally see to it that you spend the next decade in a cell. Decanus Olive Leaf!"

"Sir!" a young soldier answered.

"I am placing you in charge of prisoner detail. Pick twenty stallions to join you. If you've any trouble with resistance, Decanus Sugar Star of the 44th Legion will be your aide. I leave it to you to decide how best to take care of things."

"Aye, sir! I'll get right on it!"

"Good lad. The rest of you, form up on me! We're going to make sure this place is clear."

A small number of survivors had been seen to take refuge in a large tent at the northern end of the camp, no-doubt where he and the others would find the most valuable intelligence, provided the bastards hadn't already destroyed everything of value.

"Looks like the last of the scum is being swept up down there." Battle-Master Gilias leaned against a boulder as she watched the Guard carve through the remaining opponents. The remnants of her pegasus unit sat all around her, seeing to their wounds and thirstily downing their flasks of water. Some of them had pissed themselves in battle, or vomited as soon as they'd returned, but not one amongst them thought less of anyone who did so. Surviving the fight was something to be proud of.

Steel Spark flapped over and landed at Gilias' side. His armor was streaked with blood, but he'd made it through remarkably unharmed save for a few superficial cuts. "Battle-Master," he said plainly.

"Legionary." She offered a flask.

"No, thank you, I have my own water. I wouldn't want to take any of yours."

Gilias laughed dryly. "It's not water, you ass. Got a little more kick to it." She shoved it forward again. "Take it, you've earned it."

In the many months since she'd joined the 44th Legion as an "adviser", Gilias had come to see the ponies as far more than just a nation of artists and lovers, like the stereotypes had claimed. They may have been those things, sure, and with names like "Sugar Star" and "Applespice" they didn't exactly inspire fear in those who heard tale of them, but she had to admit that they were damn good soldiers. The Legion, in particular, would have been equally at home in Skytalon guarding one of the great mountain homes.

She had, without a doubt, underestimated the Equestrians, and she knew she was not the first to do so. Clearly Whitetail had done the same, as had Nightmare Moon's little band of lunatics, and to look upon them now was to see them scattered to the winds and driven before the blade. When it was all over -- and it seemed to be coming to its inevitable end very soon -- who knew? She might just stay a while and explore the home of her equine neighbors, should the Emperor grant her request. There were worse ways to spend a well-earned break from combat.

"A warming drink on a cold and bloody day," Steel Spark said, swishing the alcohol. "Too damned bloody."

Gilias nodded, still watching the Guard pick apart the camp. A decent number of them were headed north, toward the largest tent. It would be over in moments, and then, maybe, she could finally get some rest. Her side burned something fierce whenever she moved too much, thanks to the griffon's blade nearly tearing her apart, but Equestrian medicine was fast-acting and mercifully easy to apply. She'd still have to get it looked at once she returned to the outpost, but it would suffice for now.

"What's the damage?" she asked.

"Nothing serious, just a few glancing blows. They'll heal up," Steel Spark answered as he took another sip from the flask.

"I meant to the detachment."

"Ah. Right." He glanced over his shoulder, where the pegasi had fallen asleep nearly to the last, exhausted from the strain and stress of battle. Some would likely never wake, if their injuries were any indication. At least they'd pass peacefully. "At last count: twenty-four dead, thirty-seven injured, six of them seriously, and four still missing. They are presumed dead, unless the Guard can find them."

So many losses from such a short battle. The cultists had shown more combat prowess than ever before, and her pegasi had paid for it. "Shit...a fourth of our strength wiped out, half of us injured..."

"Yet we won, and most of us still live," Steel Spark interjected. "You can add another victory mark to your cuirass, Battle-Master. We've struck a decisive blow to the forces of Princess Celestia's misguided sister."

"I know. I just wish we hadn't lost so many. It is my failure as a leader that I have to carry with me."

"Failure?" he asked in surprise. As long as he'd worked with the griffon woman, he'd never heard her express a single word of disappointment or self-doubt. "That does not sound like the Gilias I know. With all due respect, we knew exactly what it was we were up against when we agreed to join you. The fate of the entire battle rested upon our shoulders, and we did exactly what we had to. You should be proud of our actions, yours included."

Gilias managed a weak smile. "I am proud, of all of you. You fought like demon dogs, and I couldn't have asked for more. But in my long years of service to Skytalon, I've never lost so many lives at once."

Steel Spark sat down beside her and pushed the flask into her claws. "Here, drink with me." As Gilias took a long pull he said, "we couldn't have won without your leadership. None of us have seen as much as you've seen. Your experience and practicality has been invaluable to our efforts."

"Thanks. Guess I'm stuck with you lot until we're done, eh?"

"Suppose you are. You know what makes you a good leader, Battle-Master?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "You really do seem to care about those under your wing, even if they are Equestrians. It's a rare thing."

The sweet alcohol burned down her throat and warmed her insides.

"Yeah..."

"Lay down your weapons and surrender, and you will not be harmed!" Centurion Sanctus stood just outside of the large, octagon-shaped tent with his soldiers and waited, hoping he wouldn't have to see anyone else die that day. Voices could be heard from within, but it sounded like they were arguing with each other. "I say again: there is no need for more violence!" He kept his sword within reach as a small group of half a dozen cultists emerged from the canvas flaps, all ponies. They were plainly terrified. "That's it, easy now..."

One of their number, a large earth pony in dark blue robes, stepped forward and bowed his head while dropping to his knees. The others followed suit, taking their places beside him. A unicorn mare was openly weeping, looking up at the apparent leader with pleading eyes.

"Please, Brother Marblestone..."

He placed a hoof on her head and smiled comfortingly.

"Do not be afraid, Sister."

Sanctus was about to step forward when the flaps on the cultists' saddlebags suddenly flew open. As if in slow motion he saw one of the unicorns rear up, his horn glowing brightly with purple magic, and at the same time a collection of earthenware pots jerked into the air. He recognized them immediately. He began to shout, trying to warn his stallions.

"Get ba--" was all managed to say before the pots crashed down in a ring of fire, their chemicals mixing and instantly igniting into otherworldly green flames. He felt the heat of the fire rush over him, almost numbing at first, before he truly realized what had happened. A terrible panic set in as he began to burn, and he unconsciously screamed as he fell to the ground in a desperate bid to extinguish the flames that had consumed the cultists and the first line of Equestrian soldiers. For the briefest of moments he locked eyes with the burning unicorn mare.

And then...nothing.

A distant 'whump' echoed through the grey canyon.

"The hell was that?" Battle-Master Gilias asked, scrambling to her claws and paws to answer the question for herself. She saw it immediately, a plume of green fire and a black cloud that could only be one thing. The Equestrians had run into something deadlier than blades and arrows. "Fuck me twice and call me a whore," she muttered.

"What was that sound?" Steel Spark asked as he wrapped a new bandage around his foreleg.

"Emerald flame, and a decent amount of it by the look of things."

The pegasus' eyes went wide. "Emerald flame, here? That's a Whitetail weapon. How in the name of the Princess did they get such a thing?"

"I don't know, but I'm not gonna sit here and wait to find out." She unfurled her wings and checked to make sure her swords were secured in their scabbards. "Stay here and watch after the wounded. I'll be back."

"Wait, I want to go with...ah, damn." Steel Spark kicked a pile of snow as Gilias was gone before he could even finish his sentence.

A sickly sweet smell met her nostrils before she could see the bulk of the Guard detachment -- burning flesh. Nothing else came close to the acrid tang. She hoped they hadn't lost too many of their own to the horrid weapon.

As she came in to land she saw them laid out before her: well over a dozen bodies charred and blackened, still burning. Several others were screaming and weeping in pain from burns, being carried by their comrades away from the mess and confusion. Some of the soldiers brandished their weapons in surprise as she set down in front of them.

"Easy there, Equestrians, you know who I am. Who's in charge here?" No one seemed to know. "Anyone?"

"I suppose that would be me," someone said from the back ranks.

"Who's me?" she asked, standing up to get a better view.

"Decanus Avinius, ma'am."

"A Decanus? What happened to your Centurion?"

"See for yourself," someone else said, pointing to a burning corpse.

Gilias swore, both at the sight and at the prospect of someone so low-ranking leading the group. "What were you doing up this way, Avinius?"

"Clearing out the remainder of the cultists. Centurion Sanctus tried to get them to surrender, but..."

"But they weren't having any of that. Of course they weren't. Fucking fanatics..." It appeared her day wasn't over just yet. "Right, I'm taking command of this little detachment. Any objections? No? Good." She looked to the large tent behind her that had somehow been untouched by the flames. Magically protected, maybe, or just lucky. Her curved swords sang as she unsheathed them. "Everyone fit enough to fight, follow me. If you see anyone in there you rip their fucking guts out, they had their chance to surrender. No quarter!"

"No quarter!" the soldiers echoed, stomping their hooves on the ground. Judging by the looks in some of their eyes, she doubted they would have given mercy anyway. Not after what had happened to their friends and commander.

"Let's go!" Gilias led the way, rushing into the tent. She could feel blood seeping down her stomach from her wound reopening, but she ignored it and pushed on. Medical treatment could wait. "Spread out and cut 'em down!"

The tent was massive, almost cavernous in size. Hundreds of candles burned in small groups everywhere she looked, and numerous shrines to Nightmare Moon had been erected from the same macabre collection she'd seen in other, smaller camps.

Ahead of her, the last remaining followers waited with weapons drawn. They wore a mishmash of armor pieces collected from Equestria, Whitetail and numerous other nations, all dented with wear and streaked with dried gore. The Equestrians plowed into them with overwhelming force, taking them down with sheer numbers and dozens of sword strikes. The Nightmare Moon followers were reduced to bloody, mutilated corpses within seconds.

"Nicely done, ponies. Keep an eye out for anything that might look important enough to send to Celestia. Documents, treasures, medallions, things like that. If you find a pendant that looks like a deer and a pony chasing each other, be sure to pass it along to your officers."

A clattering caught her attention, just to her right, behind some kind of large altar. She and several others approached it cautiously, weapons out. There, just behind a gold and oak pedestal, was a gap in the canvas, just wide enough to let in light from the other side. She could only begin to guess at its purpose.

"Keep close, we might--"

A wave of unseen force sent her and several dozen ponies flying back, knocking into each other and anything that was in their way. Gilias smacked her head against the side of the altar, turning everything dark for long seconds. When she came to, she was looking up at a trio of deer clad in smooth, crystalline armor. A panicked flap backed her away to the safety of a crowd of Guard ponies.

Only once she gained her bearings did she get a good look at the new figures. They were tall, but lithe, and the deer on either side had only short, stumpy horns compared to the larger, pronged figure in the middle. Does, and well-trained in the arcane judging by the magic that had bowled her over.

"Althawyyl kaer no'das?" the one on the right said. Gilias warned the ponies to stay on their guard.

"Vinfalme, nasha'iid." The larger one standing in the center replied. Its voice was soft and airy, and Gilias realized that the tall antlers belonged not to a buck, but another doe. A redtail doe. What the hell was a Cervidaen doing here?

"Stay alert, I have no idea what we'll be facing," Gilias warned the soldiers who had gathered behind her. They muttered in surprise and fear to one another; everyone had heard the stories of how powerful some of the females could be. They could rival Celestia in power, it was said. They could stop your heart with a mere thought.

Gilias didn't put much stock in such rumors, but she knew enough to not take the does lightly. This was going to be a messy fight.

"Surrender now, you bitch, and we'll let you live," she called out to the redtail, who was obviously their leader. The doe cocked her head. Maybe she didn't speak Equestrian? If so, that was tough shit, Gilias thought, because she didn't speak Deertongue. The chance of them giving up was slim at best, but she had to try. "I said, surrender!"

"What happened to 'gut everyone you see?'" some pony asked her quietly.

"That was before I knew we would be facing a bunch of mind-raping tree-rutters," she snapped back. "Do you understand me, Cervidaen?"

The redtail doe blinked, then giggled to herself. "I understand you just fine, Battle-Master Gilias. It's so nice to finally meet you. My sisters tell me you've been quite a problem as of late."

"I can be," Gilias said, keeping her claws on the hilts of her weapons. Yet another creature who knew her name -- she must be getting well-known among the heretics. Good."Look, I've had a long day slaughtering your little cultist friends, and I would really like to be done with this shit. So if you'll kindly give yourselves up..."

One of the whitetail escorts -- Gilias assumed they were escorts, or some sort of hired help -- asked something in deer language, and they conversed with each other for some time.

"Hey! I don't know what you're saying, but I'll cut out your tongue if you keep wasting my time."

The redtail smiled sweetly and spoke to both of the whitetail, who laughed together in an infuriatingly dismissive tone.

"Enough!" Gilias drew her swords and pointed one of them at the trio. "Kneel, or die like the others."

Before the does could answer a barrage of pila and arrows snapped into the air from the back of the ranks, clearly hoping to catch them by surprise. A semi-transparent barrier of crackling green magic immediately went up, catching them in mid-air. The redtail barked out an order, and the same projectiles instantly turned and shot right back into the formation, tearing into steel and flesh alike. Several arrows clattered off Gilias' armor, and she counted herself lucky to have survived -- and to not have taken a pila in the chest, as the poor soul immediately beside her had. As soon as the shock wore off she broke into a flying sprint, circling the ponies as her head feathers brushed against the tent roof.

"Close combat only!" she shouted to the soldiers. "Move as one, go go!"

A veritable wave of Equestrian Guard charged forward, shields up and out, swords at the ready. The deer stood their ground, their antlers sparking with magical energy. The whitetail to either side dipped their heads and unleashed focused blasts of invisible force. Entire columns of ponies were sent flying with surprised shouts. Their fallen weapons were instantly turned on those closest to them, stabbing into ribs or necks.

At the same time, the redtail leader let forth a roiling stream of green-tinted electricity that carved a path from the front of the formation all the way to the back. Screams filled the grand tent as those caught in its magical grip twitched and smoked in their death throes.

Still the survivors ran forward, into battle against powers they could hardly begin to grasp. Even the most powerful unicorn spell in their arsenal seemed to do nothing more than sizzle against the shiny armor or dissipate in mid-air with almost offended glances by the does.

The first row brought their shields up and crashed into the deer, stumbling them if only for a moment, and that gave Gilias time to circle around and dive in from the side. A whitetail had seen her coming, and with a simple look she was thrown off to the side, smashing through a pile of offerings. A quinn-blade shot out at her, thin and deadly, and she batted it away with her sword where it dug into the dead body of a cultist. On the move once more, she now found herself making next to no progress, no matter how close she got. It was as if she was flying into a hurricane, a wall through which she could not pass, and she flapped her wings with all of her might, the whitetail doe so close, so infuriatingly close, yet just out of reach of her blades.

Nearly a dozen Equestrians, a unicorn team from the second ranks, ducked their heads and charged, brilliant light shining from the tips of their horns. They stopped short as a barrier formed, and as one they focused their magic until it coalesced into a single point of white in the center of the green whitetail spell. It rapidly expanded, and in the mere seconds it was open a small group of soldiers charged through with vicious battle cries, spears tucked into their sides. The whitetail doe on the right gasped at the sudden intrusion and tried to shift her power, but it was too late. They fell upon her with such might that she was driven to the ground and pinned in place by half a dozen spearheads. Gladius stabs swiftly ended her struggling, one of the soldiers continuing to hack away at her neck, until the entire squad was suddenly impaled by dozens of magically-controlled blades ripped from the mouths of their fallen comrades.

Gilias found herself suddenly freed from the infernal barrier, and she braced herself as she dove straight into the redtail. They skidded against the far wall, Gilias already moving to land a killing blow, and just as she brought her sword down the doe disappeared with a flash of green light.

"Hold still, you fucking snake!" she yelled as she flapped into the air. The surviving whitetail now found herself surrounded and outnumbered. She tried to run, tearing a hole in the tent with her magic, but a thrown spear caught her unaware and pierced through a weak joint in her armor. She fell to the ground in a heap, desperately trying to crawl away. Several ponies ran up and stuck her over and over. Her pained scream was cut short when a large earth pony crushed her head in with a stomp of his hooves. He kept going until everything from the neck up was a bloody, shredded pile of meat, bone and fur.

Now without her escorts, the redtail backed herself into a corner, levitating half a dozen quinn-blades in a circle. She coughed, a rasping, wet sound. Blood spotted the corner of her mouth, and she yanked a dagger from her chest with a flash of magic. Someone had gotten through to her after all.

"You could have avoided this, you stupid, stubborn bitch," Gilias said as she landed, swords brandished. "No one's gonna take you alive now. Where's your precious Nightmare Moon now that you're staring down the face of death?"

"Fuck Nightmare Moon," the redtail spat in accented Equestrian. "Equestria will fall, and once its cities have burned to the ground Skytalon will be next. I only regret I will not be there to see you beg." The circle of blades flipped around, their points inward. She retched a thin stream of red and stumbled to keep her footing. A pained laugh split her lips. "You have no idea what's coming. I hope you die screaming, Gilias."

Before Gilias could react, the redtail doe flicked the quinn-blades toward herself, puncturing her chest, neck and head in half a dozen places. She fell to the ground, dead where she lay, and bled out upon the altar of Nightmare Moon.

No one said a word as Gilias turned around, tucking her weapons back into their scabbards. The floor was littered with mangled bodies, the dying and injured moaning and writhing, pleading for help. She sat roughly on the ground, exhausted and sick to her stomach.

"How many are we?" she asked quietly.

"Twenty," someone answered.

"And how many did you start with?"

"Eighty...eighty seven.."

Lost for words, she weakly raised a wrist and motioned to the false wall where the does had emerged from. "Tend to the wounded, then find something useful. Go."

The ponies obeyed her orders, but there was no pride in their step. The war had taken its toll on everyone. Slowly, she dragged herself over to the body of the redtail, silently staring at it for some time.

"I don't know what you were doing here," she said out loud, pulling the flask from her side for the second time that day, "but I'm going to find out. And when I do, the whole damn world's gonna know."