Just Before the Dawn

by Drefsab

First published 27th of January, 2014

In a time shortly after Luna's banishment, Celestia finds herself on the brink of war with a rival nation. Hoping to avert disaster, she seeks out someone very special: Tercio Krosus. A soldier, a confidant, and the only living human in Equestria.

One month has passed since Princess Celestia was forced to banish her own sister. Suddenly alone and with the weight of rule squarely on her shoulders, the sovereign of Equestria has become but a shell of her former self, maintaining a facade of confidence that hides growing doubts and lingering regrets.

When a devastating attack is launched on her nation by a vindictive, opportunistic foreign ruler who will stop at nothing to see a generations-old grudge resolved, the weakened Celestia seeks to stem the flow of soldiers that now pour over Equestria's borders and put an end to the bloodshed. In her darkest hour, she turns to the aid of an unexpected confidant: A steadfast soldier, a loving brother, someone she has watched grow and mature since he was but a child.

The only living human in Equestria.

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Cover art originally by Yakolev-Vlad.

1 - Treachery

"Tercio! Tercio, wake up!"

The guardsman pushed himself up on a groggy elbow, his mind not yet aware of his surroundings.

"Hastare? What in the name of the heavens--"

"Are you deaf as well as dumb? Do you not hear that?!"

Tercio strained to listen, only to feel the disruption before he heard it, a rumbling that shook the walls and vibrated through the floor tiles. Something was rocking the palace to its very foundation. Within seconds he was alert, the threat of danger in the forefront of his mind.

"What is happening out there?"

"Hell if I know, but it's close to the royal chambers! Hurry up and grab your gear, I'm going to rally the others!"

Hastare was out of his sight immediately, the sound of his frantic hoofsteps and shouted orders echoing through the halls. It would take precious minutes for the Praetorians to respond, time the Princess might not have. Tercio quickly grabbed his sword and shield, not even bothering to strap on his armor, and rushed down the hall to the great central guard chambers. Several guardsmen from another unit were already assembled, still securing their battle uniforms despite not knowing what was truly happening. He stopped in front of them, ignoring their surprised salutes, and pointed to a small group with his sword.

"You, you, and you, come with me! Bring only what is on your body at this very moment!"

"Sir!" they shouted as one, falling in behind him. They looked more like recruits than the elite of the Equestrian military, their clothes hanging from them with half-finished sections of armor strapped to their limbs, but they would fight if they were called to do so. Hastare's training had seen to that.

The ground shook again, a thundering crack of exploding stonework resounding through the cavernous hall. The men murmured with rumors -- it was an invasion, it was a rebellion, it was the work of an arcane user gone mad.

"Silence!" he ordered them. The large, intricate double doors of the palace barracks entrance swung open as the guards saw his small band coming. Another explosion, this one far closer. "Hurry it up!"

Canterlot Gardens, the centerpiece of the Princess' quarters, lay just ahead. Arched ceilings gave way to open sky, and soon the guards were under the moonlit night. That's when he saw them, two figures in the distance dancing and darting around each other in the air. Bright bursts of light flared from their positions, striking the ground and rupturing buildings with each impact.

"...Princess Celestia?" he whispered to himself, wondering if what he was seeing was actually the princess he'd been sworn to protect. The two silhouettes were suddenly much closer than before, flying over buildings at great speed and dipping between glimmering spires in a battle that was hard to even follow. There was a burst of blue and purple energy that shined like a miniature sun, glowing ever brighter. He stared in fascination even as it appeared to elongate.

RUN.

A voice in the back of his mind, firm yet familiar and incredibly urgent. His eyes widened briefly at the sensation, and he idly realized that the others with him had the same look. As one they scattered in different directions, but the warning had come too late. The beam of dark, terrible energy slashed through a near-by tree, rending it to splinters, before it found its mark -- one of the unfortunate stallions caught the force of the blast full-on, exploding in a shower of gore and bone fragments. Tercio threw his hands up to shield himself, his arms and palms stinging from the energy of the blast. A bloody, scorched crater marked the place where his comrade used to be.

Distantly, Tercio heard a comrade call out to the lost guard in shock and despair. His ears rang from the blast and he was covered in blood and bits of flesh, yet still his eyes were drawn skyward to the battle. Celestia was fighting a terrible fight against a winged unicorn he'd never seen before, one that was as dark as the night itself and covered in armor that shone with an otherworldly blue light. He could only look on, helpless, and hope that the pegasi were able to help in time. Another blast roared past his head and obliterated a column behind him. Celestia placed herself between the unknown enemy and her loyal guardsmen, hovering in place with great flaps of her wings.

"Please, control yourself! It doesn't have to be this way!"

"If you would risk yourself for these insignificant creatures," the dark voice answered, "then you may die with the rest of them!"

The figure raised its head, energy coalescing at the tip of its horn. Frantically, Tercio looked around for cover, finding none that would protect him from another such blast. Celestia threw herself bodily at the threat, knocking the figure onto its side and sending the roiling blast blazing into the sky.

"Stop this madness at once, Luna!"

Luna. The princess' sister. She was the dark figure? It didn't seem possible; Luna had always been the steadfast ruler of the night, always so willing to speak with him and his men, no matter the situation. It couldn't be Luna!

"There is no more Luna, my dear sister!" The corrupted Luna spit out the word like it was poison on her tongue. "You will address me as Nightmare Moon, or you shall suffer with them! You and your pathetic subjects will kneel before me, or many more will join the ranks of the dead!" A beam of yellow light slammed into the princess that now called herself Nightmare Moon, sending her into a tumble she quickly recovered from. She let out a growl of frustration and flew overhead at great speed, ignoring the remaining guards and focusing on Celestia. The dueling sisters disappeared from view, further explosions marking their battle.

Tercio shook himself from his stupor, resolving to find and help his princess in any way he could. The two guards with him seemed to be of the same mind, and soon they were galloping back down the long hallway to the southern palace entrance -- and the throne room. Another exchange of magical energy sounded above them, and there was a loud crash as something hit the floor in the next room. An armored guard was already trying to open the massive doors, pushing with all of his might.

"Get that door open!" Tercio shouted as he approached.

"I'm trying, sir, but it's jammed!"

Muffled voices spoke to each other. One of them sounded weak, defeated. Celestia's.

"Quickly, as one!" The guards at his side braced themselves against the door.

"As one!" they echoed, the collective grunts of exertion blocking out all but the shaking of the floor and walls, but the door would not budge. It groaned as their combined strength strained against it, but still it held. "Again, lads! Agaaaain!" Ever so slightly, the door gave. They pushed again, and it cracked open. Another push, and it was nearly wide enough to fit an arm through. Voices flooded through the gap, drowned out by their efforts. "Once more, swords at the ready!"

With a final shove the door flung open. Tercio was on his feet and running even as the stallions behind him scrambled for a grip on the tile. Just ahead of him were Celestia and Luna, locked in a battle, a beam of unfathomable energy flowing between them.

Celestia spoke to her sister, though Tercio could hear no words.

In an instant the throne room was awash in brilliant, yellow light. Luna, Nightmare Moon, the co-ruler of Equestria, simply vanished. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a streak of light take off into the night sky, rushing toward the full moon. He wanted to rush over to his princess, to make sure she was unharmed, but he could not find the words to comfort her.

"I'm sorry, Luna," Celestia sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

Alone in her chambers, Princess Celestia paced in front of her mirror. She looked gaunt and tired, a sad shadow of her typical appearance. Her personal guard had expressed their concerns, and she had to admit they had reason to worry; she hadn't eaten much of anything in the last month, and had slept even less. Raising and lowering the moon took extra time and effort out of her day, time she didn't have, made especially worse by the process being so deceptively intricate. At least it occupied her mind. The worst times came when she was without a task, without a duty to fulfill or a dignitary to host. It was at those times that she thought about Luna, thought endlessly on the details and filled her every moment with questions. Questions that, try as she might, she could not find an answer for. What had truly happened? What was the catalyst of Luna's horrific change into Nightmare Moon? Why had she turned away from the very sibling she had spent the last three hundred years of her life with? The very knowledge that there was, most likely, not a proper answer for any of her worries ate away at her very being and sat like a stone in the pit of her stomach.

And so she refused food and drink; it made her sick. She refused sleep; there came only nightmares. She refused company; it reminded her of better times. And yet she had a duty to her nation, a duty to every living soul in Equestria. Despite her pain and her anguish, she smiled and waved from her balcony every morning after raising the sun. She conversed with her friends, such as they were, when they called on her. She entertained rulers and dignitaries and guests. Equestria, and for that matter, the entire world, would not simply stop because she grieved. A million citizens counted on her, and so she carried on, day and night, without fail.

"Your Highness?" A muffled voice called out from behind her door, followed by a quiet knock. Celestia quickly looked herself over, frowning at the sight of herself, then answered the door with a practiced smile. A pretty young mare stood before her, wrapped in a shimmering, gold-laced cloak of sheer white fabric. "Good afternoon, Princess. Are you well today?"

"As well as can be expected, my dear Regalia. Thank you for asking. What can I help you with?"

Regalia bowed her head. "Princess, I bring word of the arrival of Empress Elinwynn of the Cervidaen Hegemony. She awaits you in your throne room."

Another dignitary. Many had come to pay their respects and offer condolences after the banishment of the royal sister, Elinwynn included. Celestia wondered what could possibly bring her back after only a few days.

"Of course. Tell Empress Elinwynn I shall be in attendance shortly."

"Very well." Regalia curtsied promptly and trotted away, down the spiral staircase of the tower. Her hoof-falls echoed through the corridors. Inside her personal quarters, Celestia was already preparing herself to meet with the foreign leader. A quick flash of magic and her ethereally flowing mane and tail once again shone with the radiance and majesty of the sun -- a look that, not long ago, was as much a part of her as the wings on her body and the horn on her head. Now, though, some of the shine had dissipated with her spirits.

She levitated her crown and jeweled breastcollar into place and applied a light powdering of makeup under her eyes to hide the bags, and once again she looked the part of the most powerful mare in Equestria.

Empress Elinwynn was waiting for her as she entered the throne room. The two rulers bowed to each other and feigned smiles; it was all for show, and both of them knew it, but neither was impolite enough to break etiquette.

"Welcome to Equestria, Empress," Celestia said by way of greeting.

"Thank you, Princess," the other responded. The ruler of the deerfolk was slightly shorter than Celestia, and struck a more petite figure in her emerald-colored shawl. Her tall, slightly swept-back antlers were decorated with lengths of gold-trimmed emerald cloth that sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows.

"I must admit to being surprised by your presence, Empress. It is not a short journey from the Cervidaen homelands. What brings you back so soon?"

"Please, call me Elinwynn," the empress said softly. "But yes, let me reassure you that I have merely come to seek your clarification on something. I thought it prudent to return to you as soon as possible."

"Oh?"

"Indeed so. You see, it has come to my attention that your military has been massing along the eastern border of the Whitetail woods. You can see how this could be construed as...less than diplomatic, yes?"

Celestia cocked her head. A massing along the Whitetail woods? That didn't make any sense. As far as she knew, the only military units in the area were the 2nd and 5th Cohorts, but even they were many miles away from the border. "I assure you, you must be mistaken, Elinwynn. Whitetail is a neutral state, and I would not dream of impeding on its sovereign right to self-rule, especially with an army." She began to pace back and forth, her decorative shoes clacking on the tile. "You know as well as I do that Equestria has been at peace for several hundred years. Why on earth would I break such a long-lived peace?"

Elinwynn shrugged. "That's really the question, isn't it?"

Under her practiced, congenial smile, Celestia fumed; she'd always disliked the Cervidaen rulers, as far back as she could remember. Hundreds of years of entitled, arrogant, passive-aggressive empresses, all cut from the same cloth. Elinwynn was no different. If anything, she'd shown herself to be even more spoiled than her mother and grandmother before her.

"I apologize, Empress, I did not realize such a thing was happening. Likely it is a case of maneuvers by the Guard, or some other sort of training exercise. I assure you: I shall see that they are a fair distance from the Whitetail border. After all, we wouldn't want to ruin our friendship with your great nation, nor that of our mutual friend."

"Of course, Princess. I'm glad you're able to see reason." She smiled, smug and self-satisfied. "Truly you are wise with your years." A small object levitated from the bag at the deer's side, floating between them. "I would like you to have this, as a token of our continued cooperation. I realize a simple trinket is unfitting of royalty, but it holds some...personal value, shall we say. I want you to have it."

Celestia inspected the porcelain object, a pony and a deer in a Gemini position, mirroring the constellation that was so familiar to all who turned their eyes skyward at night. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Elinwynn."

"You are very welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long journey ahead of me. And don't fret: we'll be seeing each other soon, I assure you." She paused, then added, "I feel I would be remiss if I did not apologize. We have known each other for a long time, wouldn't you say?"

"I would," Celestia nodded. "As have the last four generations of your family."

Elinwynn smiled softly. "I envy your long life, Princess. You have surely come to know my family better than even myself. I make no qualms about it being known that I protect my people, but at times I can be, shall we say, somewhat harsh. For that, I apologize."

Surprised by the apology, Celestia bowed to the Cervidaen ruler. "You are most generous, Empress. I accept your apology, and I assure you I do not hold such a thing against you."

"Thank you, Celestia. With that said, I shall take my leave. Until next time?"

"I look forward to it, as always."

"As always." Elinwynn exchanged bows and polite nods, and once more she was gone, flanked by a group of soldiers on either side. Celestia watched her head out of view, then immediately dropped her forced smile and let out a frustrated exhale. Politics and facades. That's what it all came down to. Nothing had changed in hundreds of years, and she doubted the next several hundred would be any different.

"Centurion Phalanx," she called into the hallway, "I would have a word with you, please."

The battle-scarred soldier marched inside and saluted smartly. "Your Highness?"

"Centurion, I have somewhat of a strange question. Do you know of any Cohort or Century massing along the eastern border of the Whitetail woods?"

He looked confused, gazing off into space with his one good eye as he considered his vast knowledge of military information. "I am afraid not, Princess. Elements of the 2nd and 5th Cohorts are in the general vicinity, yes, but besides a token Legion outpost -- the 44th, if I recall correctly -- there is nothing of note that I am aware of. Why do you ask?"

Celestia peered down the long hallway leading from the throne room, as if expecting Elinwynn to be standing there. "I ask because my honored guest seems to believe we're doing exactly that. She is under the impression that we are aggressively massing for some sort of attack."

Ardent Phalanx chuckled. "Then it would appear her information is wrong."

"There are no maneuvers being partaken in the area? No training camps?"

"None of significance, Your Highness. We maintain a light presence, of course, but nothing I would describe as threatening."

"I had figured as much," she replied with a light smile. "Thank you for the confirmation, Phalanx. That will be all."

"Yes, Your Highness. Feel free to call on me any time, should the need arise."

With that, Phalanx turned and trotted back to his posting. Celestia knew there would be no logical reason for such a large force as the deer empress claimed to be massing anywhere near them, much less along the borders of a neutral state. And yet something ate away at her, gnawing at the back of her mind. Elinwynn had seemed so insistent, so sure of herself. Perhaps it was worth looking into. Deciding such a thing was too important to leave to chance, Celestia levitated over a quill and a roll of parchment and began to write. The 44th Legionaries were the closest to Whitetail. With luck, the scroll would reach them within a day. Then, she hoped, she might have some real answers.

Silver Oak plodded along the rough dirt road, his sandal-like marching boots crunching the loose dirt with every step. For countless hours he had marched, watching the fading sun give way to the darkness of night. The familiar trails and surrounding forest were comforting during the day, but now they seemed enveloping and claustrophobic. The chill of the night air bit at his face and prickled his skin, and he longed for the fires of the encampment and the hot meals that would no-doubt be waiting for him and his soldiers upon their return.

It had been two days since he'd received an urgent letter, flown in via pegasus courier, from the princess herself. For reasons he was not fully made aware of, Celestia was concerned that Whitetail may be in danger, and she had asked him to take a small group and conduct a reconnaisance mission to the nearest town in the city-state's land -- River Run. And so he gathered seven of his comrades and prepared for a long journey. They marched day and night, only stopping for rest or meals. Within a matter of hours River Run would be in view, and he might finally get off this damnable road.

"Decanus?" His recruit's voice broke his concentration. Silver Oak grumbled and turned to face his underling.

"Yes, meat? What is it?"

"Sir, if I may ask, what would make Princess Celestia believe Whitetail is in danger?"

"I don't know. It is not my place to know. I simply follow orders. As do you."

"Yes, sir," the earth pony said quickly. There was an awkward silence, and then, "but just hear me out on this..."

The stallions in their formation groaned and swore at the inquisitive vexillarius -- their standard bearer. The stylized sun and crossed swords of the 44th Legion were proudly displayed on a banner pole attached to a saddle on the young soldier's back.

"Give it a break, Ceraunius," one of them said. "Didn't they teach you anything in the Guard? You don't question orders. If the decanus tells you to do something, you'd damn well better do it."

"I heard the decanus once found out that somepony wasn't listening to his commands," another voice added, "and the decanus shoved a sword through his ear."

"It wasn't a sword, you idiot, it was his cock."

"What? That doesn't seem physically possible."

"That's what the poor sod kept screaming as his ear canal was violated."

"Enough, all of you!" Silver Oak shouted, instantly silencing the group. Decades of service and discipline made it easy to hide the laughter that wanted to burst out from such ridiculous claims. As far as his soldiers knew, he was completely unamused by the anecdote. "You are not being paid to ramble on like school fillies! You are legionaries! Act like it!" He waited until he was sure they were properly listening before he continued. "Princess Celestia has deemed River Run a place of interest. Why, or how, is none of your concern. We are simply to recce the area and report our findings. Nothing more, nothing less. Understood?"

"Yes, Decanus!" they shouted as one.

"Good. Keep your mouths shut and perhaps the entirety of Whitetail won't hear us coming, old gods willing."

They marched in relative silence for another hour, perhaps two -- it was hard to tell with the dense forest obscuring the moon. "Relative" was the operative word: their steel and iron armor rustled against their tunics and clattered as they trotted, scaring off many a forest creature and scattering flights of resting birds. It was a wonder, Silver Oak mused, that the whole of River Run hadn't found them out.

They were a mere twenty minutes from their objective when they spotted a distressing sight: Equestrian Guard marching in the opposite direction, with no hint of formation of order. What was the Guard doing out here? Had Celestia sent them orders as well?

"Contubernium, halt!" The formation came to a stop, each of the legionaries craning their necks to get a better view of the silhouetted ponies in their path. Silver Oak galloped over to the leader, finding the guard to be covered from head to hoof in spattered blood. "Decanus Silver Oak of the 44th Legion," he said by way of introduction, lifting a foreleg to his chest in a salute. "What in the name of Celestia happened to you, guardsman? Are you wounded?" The guardsman said nothing for a time, idly kicking a hoof in the dirt. "Guardsman, I asked you a question. Are you wounded?"

"No," the soldier finally said. "We are not wounded." A further inspection revealed all of them, at least a dozen, to be similarly soiled. Bloodied swords hung from holster rings at the sides, flecked and streaked with gore. "We ran into some bandits along the path to River Run."

"Bandits? I was not aware of any bandit activity this close to a major settlement." Silver Oak's practiced eye began to notice little details that were out of place; a guard wearing a chainmail shirt, but no armor overlay. Greaves with no tunic or pteruges skirt. A galea-style helmet without the nose and ear guards. They looked like a rabble, a bunch of lowly militia.

"It would seem you are misinformed, Centurion," one of the guards in the back answered. Silver eyed him pensively. "You let this soldier speak out of line? Where is your commanding officer?" He was suddenly struck by a realization -- the guard hadn't even addressed him by the proper rank, despite the bars and shield adorning his armor's display sash. "What is your name, guardsman? ANSWER ME!"

A sharp pain shot through his side. He instinctively turned to face the threat, only to see a hoof-strapped folding blade jammed into his ribs. He looked at the offending guard in shock, momentarily losing his bearing. But only for a moment. Countless thousands of hours of drill and training kicked in and he pulled himself away from the blade, watching it come loose, slicked red with his own blood. Anger welled within him as he deflected a second stab with his greaves and fluidly pulled his gladius from its sheath, clenched tightly in his mouth. The guard was fast, but Silver Oak was faster. A sideways swipe deflected off the buckler shield strapped to his right foreleg, and he surged forward and bashed the offending soldier in the face, knocking his head back. A quick thrust to the exposed neck sent his short sword carving through both sides of the other's throat; the pony screamed and began to gurgle on his own blood, falling limp to the floor as he clutched uselessly at the holes in his flesh that gushed blood in thick, red streams.

"TRAITORS!" Silver Oak yelled, grabbing his wounded side. The other, opposing guards had drawn their swords and were charging him with little regard for military discipline. He quickly fell back to his own stallions, who were standing with their mouths agape. "Fucking traitors!" he called back to the charging guards. "I'll see you all hang! Legionaries, defensive positions!" He hobbled into the center of the rapidly erected shield wall, swearing to himself at the blood that now ran down his side and dripped from his belly.

"Decanus, you're wounded!"

"No shit!" Silver Oak snapped back. "Stay at the ready!"

"What the hell is going on?" Someone asked.

"Why did they attack you?!"

"I said, stay at the ready!" There was a loud 'thwack' as a spear plunged into one of the tall, curved rectangular shields. Its iron head jabbed through, but failed to penetrate far enough to wound the stallion holding it. Another spear impacted the shield wall, and another. "Rank amateurs, all of them!"

"This is fucked! Those are our own damn brothers!"

"Any who would draw on a legionary is not your brother, Swift Strike!" Smaller, more rapid impacts began to hit their shields; the guards were firing arrows now. "Formatioooon, forwaaard!" As one the legionaries began to march with their shields interlocked, slowly advancing on the group of traitorous guards. The rain of arrows and spears intensified. Someone shouted in pain as an arrow found a hole in the formation and embedded itself in his foreleg, but still the wall held. "Princepes, ready pila!" The second line of the formation reached for the throwing spears resting across their backs, tucking them into the small of their forelegs. Silver Oak waited for a lull in the barrage; a seconds-long break was all he needed. "Hastati, drop!" With practiced precision the upper portion of the shield wall lowered for a scant few heartbeats, just long enough for the second line to let loose a volley of pila. The barbed throwing spears arced through the air, coming down with tremendous force and penetrating through armor, mail and flesh with ease. Four spears were thrown, and four traitors to Equestria fell at once, screaming and grabbing at the spears that had impaled them. The remaining guards began to panic, the barrage of arrows and spears coming to a stop as they dropped their ranged weapons and began to fall back in a panic. Clearly they had underestimated the Legion.

"Formatioooon! BREAK!"

With a great scream of fury and battle lust the legionaries dropped their wall and tucked their shields onto their backs, breaking into a line that charged at the enemy in full gallop, swords at the ready. Some of the victims of the spear-throw were still shouting in agony on the ground; deep, vicious stabs through their chests and necks ended their screams, eight swords finding their marks without even stopping.

A legionary fell to the ground as an arrow found its mark and plunged into his chest, but still the line continued its advance. Several of the guardsmen turned to fight their pursuers, bloodied swords at the ready. They struck swiftly and with greater skill than Silver Oak would have expected otherwise, cutting a deep gash in one of his retinue and slicing a leg out from under the poor standard bearer. He delivered a savage, crushing buck with his powerful hind legs to the closest guardsman, caving the stallion's head in with a sickening crunch. Silver Oak sliced his throat just to be sure.

Something cut into his flank, thudding against bone with an impact that made his head swim. He glanced back and saw the shaft and fletching of an arrow sticking out. That was when the pain hit. It started like a small fire around the wound, then quickly spread to his entire right side. He clenched his teeth and grunted against the burning, stabbing impact, hobbling even as he continued to order his stallions.

"Contubernium, reform! Circular wall!"

Arrows were starting to fly in from the surrounding forest now, additional traitors that had been waiting in the flanks for the opportunity to strike. The young vexillarius, still lying on the ground and bleeding profusely from a severed leg and punctured chest, attempted to drag himself to the safety of the forming shield wall. His movement stopped when half a dozen arrows tore into his body and ripped through the banner still attached to his back.

"Ceraunius, no!" Swift Strike called out to his battle brother, wanting more than anything to break formation and kill the nearest traitor with his bare hooves.

"There is nothing we can do for him! Maintain formation or we'll be joining him in the afterlife!"

Now down two stallions, and with many of the remaining wounded, the protective dome of shields could not hold forever. They huddled together, a mass of bodies and iron and wood, the hail of projectiles slowly wearing them down.

"We're going to die here, aren't we?" Swift Strike asked his superior as he clutched at the deep gash in his side. Silver Oak searched for something to say, some words of comfort, but he could find none. Yes, they were going to die here, struck down by what appeared to be their own comrades, and no one would know about it. Not for several more days, when they were due to return. Unless...

"I must ask of you one last favor, my brothers," Silver Oak said with all of the confidence he could muster. "We must find our way back to Equestrian soil. Someone must know of what's happened to us. On my command, we will break formation and rush the nearest archers to our east. If we can make it through their lines, we can make all speed for the encampment." A quick peek under his shield revealed the eastern line to number less than two dozen strong. It could work. "Do not stop, not for me, not for anyone or anything. Understood?"

"Yes, Decanus!" they answered as one.

"Understood?!"

"YES, DECANUS!"

"Then may Celestia watch over us." His flank still burned from the arrow. His blade wound still bled a dark crimson. But he would fight. He called upon the very last of his strength for one last shout.

"LEGIOOOON! CHAAAARGE!"

Once again the shield wall broke, the legionaries dropping their heavy shields to the ground to gallop faster. A volley of arrows answered their battle cry, and two of the legion's number skidded to a stop, dead where they'd fallen. Silver Oak tried to keep up with them, but he was too old, too wounded, and too tired. Another arrow dug into his back and he tumbled end over end, his helmet rolling away and disappearing behind a tree. Weakly, he forced his head up to look at the charging stallions he'd cared so much for. The line of survivors crashed into the formation of archers like a great wave, scattering their number as one traitor after another fell to the relentless strikes of Equestria's finest soldiers. Six, ten, fifteen were sliced and stabbed and gored and beheaded. But the charge was doomed. The surrounding forces began firing into the ranks of their own stallions, desperate to kill the legionaries. One by one Silver Oak's squad fell. Some tried to push themselves back up, only to be finished off by the blades and arrows of pursuing traitor guards. By some miracle, a single legionary broke free of the mob and managed to rush into the cover of a copse of trees. Silver Oak smiled weakly as he recognized the pony: Swift Strike. He had made it, at least that far.

At least Equestria will know of what happened here.

Guards took off after the fleeing legionary, shouting to each other. With some luck, they would never catch him. Content in knowing that one of his number had made it, Silver Oak let his tired body rest on the cold ground. He felt his heart pumping the very life blood from his body. He felt the chill wind flow over his skin and coat. He felt his eyelids grow heavy, a spreading warmth flowing through his veins and cradling him in a blanket of serenity.

And then...he felt nothing.

2 - Return

Summervale was not a particularly large community. Nestled between the Swayback mountains to the west and the vast, rolling plains to the east, for decades it had been a quiet farming village that took advantage of the river Avitus that split the area in two. For the last few years it had been rumored to be the center of an economic growth project, but besides a few trade vendors and a smattering of shops nothing much had come of it. For the citizens of Summervale, that was just how they liked it: Away from the noise and bustle of Canterlot, or the battle-training shouts and marching drums of Marestopholous. Some would call it quaint, even boring.

For Tercio Krosus, it was home; familiar and inviting, comfortable in its modest population. For thirty-two years he had lived here, bearing witness to the cold winters and the mild summers that gave the town its namesake. It was a good, honest place to live. And it was the one place where he truly fit in.

"Tercio, darling, it's so good to see you!" Glimmering Grace stood up and wrapped her forelegs around him in a warm hug. She was all smiles.

"Hello, mother. Have you been well?" Tercio planted a kiss on her cheek, glad to see that she was in good health.

"You know me, dear, always fretting about this or that."

He smiled. "Father, I take it?"

"Who else? I swear, that stallion is going to be working the fields until his hooves fall off, mark my words. But you didn't come to listen to me nag, now did you? Please, please, come in!"

Glimmering Grace, a pegasus pony in her late fifties with a light purple coat and greying, two-tone pink mane and striking purple eyes, still had an air of charm and motherly love about her after all these years. Ever since he was but a small child, she and her husband had raised Tercio like he was their own son. Phsyical appearances mattered little; at heart she was a caretaker, and from the moment she laid eyes on the strange "human" child she was struck by him. "Everyone," she'd told her neighbors, "deserves a chance at a decent life."

And so she'd cared for him, different though he was and despite having a young colt near his age already. It hadn't been easy, but as she looked upon him in his gleaming Royal Guard armor she couldn't help but feel like it had all been worth it.

"I'm so glad to see you home once again, Tercio. It feels like it's been quite some time, doesn't it?"

"More than you can know," he replied honestly, seating himself on a small pile of pillows next to the low dining table, one he had towered over since he was a young man. The familiar smells of his mother's cooking filled his lungs, and the old, well-cared-for home still looked exactly like he had left it so long ago. In the mid-day sun one could hardly tell it had been a family home for three generations.

Tercio took a cup of sweet citrus-flavored water as Grace passed it to him, eagerly downing the refreshing, slightly tart drink. After a long day on the road he had worked up a fair thirst.

"Goodness, you seem as if you've not had anything to drink the whole day!"

"It certainly feels like it," he answered with a smile as he took a second cup. He was sure that if he went upstairs he'd find his room exactly as he'd left it when he'd joined the Guard. "I often think about how much I miss this place -- and you and father, of course -- when we're out in the field or training with a local Cohort. Sharing a tent with a large, snoring earth pony isn't a particularly welcome way to spend a week."

Grace laughed softly and took a seat near her son, the flowing length of her sapphire shawl splaying across the floor. "Now you know how I've felt ever since I met your father! Cotton balls tend to help block out the noise, I find."

"I'll keep that in mind. So, how have you been?"

"As well as can be expected when both of your sons are away and your husband is convinced he's struck gold with something or other. You know how he is."

"What is it this time? A miracle crop? A pyrite mine?"

"Hardly," she said with a dismissive hoof wave. "For some ridiculous reason he's latched onto the idea that magically-infused sky wagons are the next big thing."

"This despite the fact that he's, umm..."

"An earth pony? Oh, yes. But don't tell him that. Once he sets his mind on something..."

"Say no more," Tercio chuckled.

"But yes, I've been quite well. I tend to stay home and write, but recently I've been preoccupied with helping Star Sweet's daughter find a proper suitor. You know, the young mare with the yellow mane? Lives down the road from the market?" Tercio nodded. "Well anyway, she's of age now to start looking for a nice stallion. Maybe start a family. She's quite single, you know..."

"Mother, she's fifteen. I'm old enough to be her father. Not to mention I'm not even her species."

"Nonsense, I was married when I was fifteen!"

"To someone three times your age who wanted you as a trophy wife, and left you for an even younger girl just a few years later, remember?"

She scoffed. "You wouldn't understand, Tercio. His family was very high-profile. But...I suppose I was too young to really understand what I was getting into. And his leaving did pave the way for me to meet your father, not to mention yourself, so I shan't complain about where the fates have taken me for even a moment."

"Speaking of which, is father around? I didn't see him on the way in."

"He's in town, dearie. Should be back before nightfall, though. He'll be delighted to see you!"

"The feeling will very much be mutual." He took a long drink of his water and loosened the straps around his ankles, letting out a sigh of relief as his aching soles got the chance to feel some air. "And what of Victus? I have not heard word of him for quite some time."

Glimmering Grace exhaled sharply, a sour look crossing her face. "That would make two of us. Ever since he was accepted into the Legion I've had naught but letters show up at my doorstep for the last six months. It would seem your brother is more concerned with warfare than his own family these days."

The Legion? Now that was interesting. Being accepted into the Equestrian Guard at all is a mark of pride, but the Legion is the best of the best. Last he'd heard, Victus was trying to move up from the Equestrian Guard posting he'd been so bored by, but it was a long process. Could he have achieved his goal in such a short amount of time? If anyone could set his mind to it, it was his brother.

"I'm sure he's just busy, mother. Spirits know I've been busy myself in the Royal Guard."

"At least you find the time to visit," she grumbled. "I swear, that pegasus takes after his father in every way conceivable."

"Maybe so, but at least I'm here for now. Legatus Phalanx granted me leave for a week, and I intend to take full advantage of it."

"A whole week? Well, that is good news!" Grace wrapped her adoptive son in a comforting hug, her spirits once more lifted. "Oh but listen to me, prattling on like some old hag. You must be exhausted from the road."

"Somewhat," he laughed, looking himself over. He was covered in dust and dirt, and his usually gleaming armor was dulled with scrapes and smudges from a long day's march.

"Don't you worry about a thing, sweetie. I'll heat up a bath for you so you can feel like a proper stallion -- err, man -- again. In the mean time, you can leave your bag in your room. You should find it quite familiar." He smiled to himself -- exactly like he'd predicted, alright. "Dinner should be ready in an hour. You still enjoy whipped potatoes and soda bread, I take it? With seasoned carrots? I thought so." Tercio stood up and grabbed his rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder. "Oh, of course, I'd nearly forgotten!"

"Hmm?"

"Princess Luna. Is it true she...she's no longer sitting beside her sister in Canterlot?"

He grimaced, not sure if he should bring up what he'd seen that terrible night. "Yes. Princess Luna and Princess Celestia are no longer co-ruling Equestria. Luna has been...banished, mother."

She gasped. "No! They'd always been so wonderful together! What happened?"

"I'm afraid I'm not privy to such information. No doubt you've seen how the full moon has changed. It's because Luna has been exiled to it."

"Princess Luna was banished to the moon? Oh, dear, how horrible. The poor thing. I do hope it's resolved soon, Equestria just isn't the same without the two of them working together."

He remembered very clearly how Luna-turned-Nightmare-Moon had ended the life of one of his soldiers, and nearly ended his as well. The memory was like a sharp blade in the back of his mind, and he hated that he even had to carry such a thing for the rest of his life. There was no way he could tell his mother, not now. It had only been a scant month, and the wound was still fresh. He could only imagine how Celestia felt.

"We shall see," he answered simply.

Asleep in her chambers, Princess Celestia dreamed the same dream she'd had for so many weeks; a dream of Luna, a dark shadow looming over her, pulling at her strings. The shadow would turn into a great, horrible maw, and just before it consumed the princess she'd wake up with a start. Sleep was not a welcome break, not these days, but at some point her body would simply refuse to function without it.

"Princess! Princess Celestia!" At first she thought she was dreaming, a distant voice calling to her that, for once, wasn't her sister's. Frantic pounding on her doors snapped her out of her sleep, and she groggily made her way to the room's entrance. She had to shield her eyes against the harsh torch light that met her vision as she swung open her door. A young guard stood before her, bowing deeply, but with a look of panic on his face.

"Guardsman? Is something the matter?"

"My most sincere apologies for waking you, Your Highness, but I bring urgent news from Legatus Phalanx! The 44th Legion has been attacked within the borders of Whitetail, seemingly by our own soldiers!"

Her half-asleep mind struggled with the information. The 44th? Why did that sound so familiar?

"I apologize, but I'm afraid I do not immediately--" At once she was hit by a realization; the 44th was the very unit she'd tasked with carrying out a reconnaisance mission to Whitetail.

"Your Highness?"

"Oh, no..."

"Is something wrong?"

She straightened herself, standing up tall and confident as best she could. "What happened? Quickly, tell me everything you know."

"I don't know much, Princess. I was simply sent here to inform you that a member of the Legion patrol in question made it back to his encampment before collapsing. He says he's the only survivor that he knows of, and that they were attacked by ponies wearing Equestrian armor."

Traitors? In the Guard? She hoped the report was wrong. Somehow, it had to be.

"Where is this legionary being held?"

"At the infirmary in Raven's Rock nearly a day's flight from here."

She cursed under her breath, the distance too far to teleport herself. She would have to fly there. "Can you do me a favor, guardsman?"

"Of course, Princess. Anything you ask."

"Return to Legatus Phalanx and inform him that I shall be taking two days' leave, effective immediately. While I am away, he is in charge the day-to-day affairs of the government. I also need you to tell him that my Praetorians are to be awakened and ready to depart within the hour. Did you get all that?"

"Yes, Your Highness. I shall depart immediately to do as you've asked." The guardsman bowed deeply once more and turned smartly on his hooves, then galloped down the hallway with his saddle-mounted torch casting harsh, orange light on the walls and marble floor.

Celestia's mind still groaned and complained from a lack of sleep, but she ignored it -- she would have time to sleep on the way to Raven's Rock. For now, she would have to pack enough things for a short trip. Once she was there, she would speak with this poor legionary and find out everything he knew about what had happened.

And then, she could set out to make things right.

It was a cool morning, the air crisp and clean, as Tercio took in his daily regimen of physical training. A few miles up and back, through the fields of Summervale's vast farms. Several times he stopped and chatted with familiar faces, neighbors and friends he hadn't seen in months or even years. It felt good to be home, if only for a time.

Breakfast followed shortly after, a plate of eggs and vegetables he inhaled much to his mother's bemusement. It wasn't until later in the day that he finally caught sight of his father, Roughshod, returning from town with a small wagon of goods bumping up the road behind him.

"Father! Good to see you've not dropped dead from exertion," he said with a hearty laugh as he approached the old stallion.

"Tercio?" Roughshod blinked several times, his face brightening when he recognized his son. "Well as I live and breathe, it is you!" He wrapped Tercio in a strong embrace and bumped his hoof against Tercio's fist. "For a moment I thought I might be imagining things."

"What, is there another human you're caring for that I've not learned of?"

"Oh, droves of them, I tell you," he chuckled. "Do your old man a favor and help me bring some of this inside, won't you?"

"Of course." Tercio hefted a bag of grains over each shoulder and took his place alongside his father. "Mother was worried something had happened to you. She says you were supposed to come home last night."

"That I was. Had a bit of a problem, though, when a damned rockslide buried the road between Summervale and Bridle Falls in a cubit of stone. Had to wait for it to be cleared out before any travelers could go through."

Despite his age, Roughshod was still as strong an earth pony as Tercio had ever seen. Nearly sixty years of working the fields day in and day out had hardened his frame and strengthened his muscles. Tough and conditioned though Tercio considered himself, even he had to admit that he was outclassed by his adoptive father. The light brown shade of his coat and close-cropped, dark-red mane was faded and greying these days, bleached from decades of exposure to the elements, but he was quite still handsome in a rugged, well-lived sort of way. Tercio could only hope he was in as good a condition when he was older.

"Just set those down near the counter," Roughshod said in a gravelly, slightly strained voice, the result of drastic surgery from his younger years. He and his son unloaded the rest of the cart in a matter of minutes, working up a sweat despite the cool air. "It's times like this I remember I'm not a young buck anymore."

"I don't know, you seem to handle yourself fairly well...for an old man," Tercio answered with a wry smile.

"Old though I may be, I could still take you to the ground if I had to. You've got that high center of mass, and all those gangly limbs. Nowhere near suited for personal combat!"

"Perhaps. I've never believed in picking on the elderly and infirm, so we'll just have to speculate."

Roughsod laughed to himself and jabbed a hoof into Tercio's side. "Come on, you smart ass, and share a drink with your old man. Might want to grab both of the mugs, lest my frail body collapses under the weight."

A pair of silver-etched cups disappeared from the cupboards, along with a pitcher of half-empty amasec wine. Tercio followed his father out to the back patio, an uncovered resting area dotted with numerous chairs and small tables, including one built specifically for his larger frame. It was worn and chipped after years of use, but still as comfortable as he remembered.

"Quite the view, isn't it?" Roughshod asked as a mug was slid his way, the pale, amber-colored amasec sloshing against the sides. "Sometimes I come out here with your mother and just sit and watch the sun rise or set over the mountains." Indeed it was a sight to behold, a vast field of corn, sweet potato, carrot and wheat plants sprouting over an area nearly forty acres in size. The sky was clear and blue without a single cloud in sight. Tercio closed his eyes and enjoyed the breeze flowing in from the mountains, his cup of alcohol grasped in his hands. It was so peaceful up here, a far cry from the shouting decanii or perpetually angry centurions that could be heard over the din of the encampments.

"Welcome back, Tercio," his father said as he raised his cup.

"I'm glad to be back, father." He took a drink of the slightly sweet wine, an aftertaste of honey playing over his tongue before the burn of the alcohol tickled his throat. "If mother knew we were drinking this early in the afternoon she would have our heads."

"No different from any other day, then," Roughshod laughed. "Where is the old hag, anyway?"

"She said she was spending most of the day with Star Sweet. Left just before you arrived, in fact."

"Huh. Guess she wasn't too worried then, eh? Let me guess; she tried setting you up with that young girl."

"Something like that," Tercio replied with a slight smile. "She's convinced I'm getting too old to find a suitable mare, and I need to hurry up and start a family."

"Too old? Shit, you're still a pup. You've got plenty of time to settle down." Roughshod refilled both of their cups before continuing. "Speaking of which...have you, uh...delighted any mares recently?"

Tercio nearly choked on his wine. "Why am I not surprised you'd ask such a thing?"

"What? Don't give me that look. You're out there in the field for months at a time, no use denying the cock the old gods saw fit to give you, right? Hell, I was in your same position myself, a long time ago. I know how the Guard works. Spend some time away from the mares, get a little leave, find the nearest working girl..."

"I must admit this is making me rather uncomfortable." Tercio emptied his cup in one, long chug and poured himself another. If his father kept his line of questioning up, he was going to need a lot more amasec to get the images out of his head.

"Just answer the question before I die of old age, would you?"

Tercio let out a deep sigh. "Fine, fine. I...suppose I may have had romantic encounters with the fairer sex. Occasionally."

"Oh, so you did fuck somepony, huh? That's my boy!" Roughshod laughed out loud, probably a little louder than he'd intended thanks to the amasec. "I imagine you don't have much trouble connecting your bits with their bits, eh? It all works the same in the end!" Tercio's face flushed bright red, which only served to make his father laugh even louder, pounding his hoof on the table. "Look at you, like an embarrassed teenager! You're in your thirties now, there's no need for that!"

"For the record," Tercio quickly added, "they weren't whores. Just a couple of very nice mares who, uh, happened to be very interested in making love to someone of my...unique stature."

"Oh, Tercio, Tercio," his father chuckled, "fucking by any other name is still fucking. But hey, it's good to see you're still able to live a semi-normal existence in such a regard."

"So, uh, the Royal Guard is a good place, I've found," Tercio eagerly changed the subject, hoping his father would take the bait. "It's certainly a step above the rank-and-file of the Equestrian Guard."

"Mmm, that's what I hear. Was never in the service long enough to apply, myself, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it several times. And now my own son is serving with them. Heh, who woulda thought, right? They give you that fancy-ass armor?"

"Indeed so. I have it stored in a trunk upstairs if you'd like to take a look."

"I would, in fact. But that can wait." Roughshod adjusted his position in his seat, grunting as he struggled to find a comfortable spot. "Come, delight your dear old father with your tales of bravery and daring. Surely you have some."

"Not quite so much as you'd think," Tercio replied with a shrug. "Life in the Royal Guard is really not all that interesting. We may be Canterlot's personal defense force, but most of the time we're simply guarding doors or filling out paperwork or some-such mundane task. On the bright side, gold-trimmed armor looks nice when you're sitting on your ass for ten hours a day."

"Sounds familiar! Military life is a whole lot of 'hurry up and wait'. Some things never change, I suppose."

Tercio idly rubbed his cup as the memory of Celestia's fight with her sister played through his mind once more. "There is one thing..."

"Oh?"

"Well...you know Luna's been banished, I take it?"

His father nodded. "I've heard rumors, and seen the full moon. It's true, then?"

"I'm afraid so. I...I was there when it happened, father." Roughshod sat up in his seat, for once not sure what to say. "It was very late in the evening, or rather, very early in the morning, when the Legatus woke me up and said the palace was under attack. I didn't have time to do much but grab my arms, and I took a few guardsmen with me. When we arrived in the gardens there was this frantic, mid-air battle happening between the sisters. Princess Luna, she didn't look the same. There was something...off...about her. She called herself 'Nightmare Moon'."

"You don't say. To think one such as her could fall so far..."

"One of my compatriots -- Strata, was his name -- was killed by a blast of energy, not even two meters from me. He was no small stallion, but when that dark magic struck him he simply....exploded. I was covered in his gore from head to toe."

"Gods, I had no idea! Was it really that bad?" His son simply nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about...Strata, was it? It's always a shame when a good soldier has to die for no damned reason."

"I know," Tercio said quietly.

"You haven't told your mother about this, have you?"

"No," he shook his head, "such a thing would only serve to worry her for my safety more than she already does."

"Good, you should probably keep it that way. And don't worry, I won't say anything."

Tercio grabbed the pitcher and refilled his cup once again. "It's well that I'm not going anywhere for the rest of the day. Perhaps if I down enough amasec I'll be able to sleep tonight..."

"Your Majesty, welcome to our humble encampment." The legionary bowed before his ruler as she stepped off from the sky carriage. The outpost was sparsely populated; Celestia estimated there to be less than a hundred legionaries, judging by the small tents dotting the landscape. A series of small fires wafted smoke and the smell of cooked food through the clearing, and everywhere she looked there were armored ponies going about their appointed rounds.

"Thank you, legionary," Celestia said in return, slightly bowing her head. "Did your commanding officers make you aware of the reason for my arrival?"

He nodded. "Yes, Princess. I was told you were coming to speak with the wounded Swift Strike." Somehow, she had been hoping that the attack was just a rumor, but it was not to be.

"So it's true, then. Your unit was attacked."

"Yes, Princess, I'm afraid so. Swift Strike was the only one to make it back. He's resting in the infirmary, under the care of apothecary Tender Care. Shall I take you to him?"

"He's well enough to speak? You're sure? Very well, then."

"As you wish. Follow me, Your Highness."

The legionary led her through a crowd of soldiers covered in gleaming steel and iron armor, all of whom bowed as she approached. She smiled and greeted them, just as she always had. A pair of white pegasus royal guards at her side glowered at the legionaries, their interservice rivalry the worst-kept secret in the Equestrian military.

"Just through here, Princess." She ducked her head to enter the large tent, her sense of smell immediately overwhelmed by surgical liquids and potent potions. A series of cots lined the tent, and at the far end was the only one currently occupied. A dark orange earth pony with a shaved mane and close-cut brown tail lay curled up in a ball with a large blanket wrapped around his torso. The apothecary greeted her as she entered, a stocky pony wearing a blood-stained smock and a side pouch with surgical instruments.

"Your Highness," he nodded.

"Hello, Tender Care. How have you been?"

"I've seen better days," he admitted, pointing to the injured legionary across the room. "Swift Strike is well enough to speak, but he is still weak and his wounds are prone to reopening."

She frowned at the poor soldier's condition. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Yes, I believe so. Our best salves and potions are doing their work, but he's going to be bed-ridden for at least another few weeks. Were you looking to conversate with him?"

"I was hoping to, yes. But if he's not well enough..."

"As I said, he'll live. I'd advise patience, but I'm sure you have much more experience with such things than I do."

"I should imagine so," she answered with a slight smile. She turned to her pegasus guards. "You may wait outside, I assure you I am in no danger here." The guards nodded and exited through the flap, and she slowly approached the wounded pony. She could hear his breaths coming out slightly ragged and wet. For a time she said nothing, sitting alongside him and watching him sleep. He twitched and tossed from what she could only imagine was a bad dream, a memory of what he'd been through. Gently, she placed a hoof on his side and closed her eyes, focusing her mind on his.

It's going to be okay. Calm yourself, Swift Strike.

The legionary's shivering slowly came to a stop, his breathing becoming regular and steady, though still ragged. After a moment he slowly opened his eyes and looked around, surprised by the sight of the princess seated beside him.

"...Princess Celestia? Is it really you?"

"Indeed it is," she answered softly and with a comforting smile. "I hope I am not bothering you. The apothecary says you're not feeling well."

"Bothering me? No, no, of course not!" He attempted to sit up in his cot, only to have a sharp stab travel down his side. He grunted in pain and grabbed for his bandaged wound.

"Easy, easy," she told him, helping him lie back down. "Save your strength."

"I'm sorry, Princess, I was not expecting a visit. I must look a mess..."

"You're alive, that's all that matters," she reassured him, pulling the blanket up over his chest.

"Yeah...the only one who's alive." He chewed his lip and looked up at her. "I suppose that's why you're here, isn't it? To get my account of what happened?"

"And to make sure you're alright, of course. I know it is a lot to ask of you, Swift Strike, but if there's anything you can tell me -- anything at all -- that might help bring whoever did this to justice, then I would hear what you have to say."

"O-Of course, Your Highness. Please, excuse me for one moment." The wounded pony grabbed a flask of water at his side, taking long, thirsty gulps. He fumbled with the cap, feeling self-conscious at looking foolish in front of the princess he'd only ever seen from a distance. "Where would you like me to begin?"

"As far back as you can manage, please. You were on a patrol, correct?"

He nodded, wincing at the pain in his side. "Yes. Decanus Silver Oak hadn't said much ahead of time, only that he needed seven others to join him on a mission from the princess --- uh, you -- herself. Yourself. Sorry..."

"It's alright," she smiled. "Please, continue."

"From what we understood, we were to lead a scouting party into Whitetail and observe any troop movements or formations that may have been gathering in River Run. I volunteered and we set out about half an hour later. Marched for quite some time, but eventually we made it into Whitetail." He paused before continuing. "Princess Celestia, I had always been under the assumption that Whitetail is a neutral territory."

"It is," she answered, "but I had reason to believe it was in danger. That's why I asked Silver Oak to lead a small patrol out that way. It wasn't exactly...legal, in the strictest sense of the word, but sometimes such things are unavoidable. I thought if your patrol could find something of importance I could act upon it and speak with the Chancellor of Whitetail."

"I see..." He took another drink from his flask. "It was a few hours after sunset on the second day when we encountered what appeared to be a small force of Equestrian Guard."

Celestia's mind raced with the possibilities. Had one of the local units gone rogue? She tried to keep a decent grasp on where her military was stationed but the smaller Centuries could be overlooked...

"You're absolutely sure of this, Swift Strike? You can say with one-hundred percent certainty that they were in Equestrian Guard armor?"

"Yes, Princess, absolutely. I'd know it anywhere -- I wore it for eight years. Except..."

"Except what?"

"Except...I don't know, something about them just felt wrong, even before Decanus Silver Oak spoke to them. They weren't in a standard marching formation, or even a defensive formation in the event that they were expecting to encounter trouble. They were just...there. And when they came closer, we noticed they were covered in blood!"

"Did they carry any kind of insignia or banner? Perhaps something that would denote their unit?"

"No," he answered with a shake of his head, "nothing like that."

"I see. And then what happened?"

"The guardsman that our decanus was talking to stuck a blade in his side. Silver Oak reacted quickly and dispatched the traitorous scum, but we immediately came under attack from the others; perhaps a dozen. We adopted a shield wall formation and began to advance on them, taking out a few with our pila, and then broke into a galloping advance that broke their line." He laughed bitterly. "The bastards didn't know what hit 'em. Got this nice little gash here," he pointed to a bloodied bandage, "during the attack. Had an arrow lodge itself into the flesh of my left foreleg, too. We took down the majority but a few of them turned and attempted to run. We gave chase, only to find ourselves drawn into a line of waiting archers that a immediately took out several of our own number." Swift Strike pounded a hoof into the cot. "We should have seen it coming! It was stupid and amateur of us to fall for such an obvious ploy. But I think we were too incensed by the thought of being attacked by our own to notice."

Celestia remained quiet, making a mental note of everything she'd heard so far. The wounded pony's voice began to break, his jaw trembling and small tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

"Ceraunius, he was our designated vexillarius for the patrol. He fought so hard, but the poor, young stallion was slaughtered like a forest beast by those traitorous guards..."

"I'm sorry," the princess said quietly, resting a hoof on his foreleg. "If I'd known you would run into such danger I would have never sent you out there."

In spite of his condition, he smiled weakly. "We're the Legion, Princess. Danger is what we do."

"So you were ambushed from the side, you said? How did you escape?"

"Decanus Silver Oak had us in a circular wall formation, but the volume of projectiles was too much for us. Far too much. He said we were to make one last charge, straight into the line of archers set up in the forest. Once we broke through we were to make all speed back here, to the encampment. I...I was the only one who made it. The others fell to arrow volleys or blades." He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes. "We made them pay for every life, though. You can be damn well sure of that."

"I commend you -- and your entire patrol -- for being so brave. I can't imagine what it must be like for you." Of course she could. She'd comforted so many wounded and dying during her lifetime that she'd nearly seen it all, and it never got any easier to see. But traitors? That was something entirely different. Never in the history of Equestria had they suffered an attack by their own forces. It only served to strengthen her resolve. "Swift Strike, the guards you encountered -- you said they were covered in blood. From what, exactly?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It was already dry, so it had to have been at least several hours old." Several horrible possibilities came to mind, and they nearly stole the breath from her lungs. "We aren't missing any other legionaries, are we? Possibly to further attacks?"

"Not that we're aware of, no."

"Well, at least that's one bit of good news," he said with a deep sigh. "Princess, you have to find out who was responsible for this. I can't let my battle brothers die for nothing!"

Celestia placed a hoof on his chest and looked him in the eyes. "I promise you, Swift Strike, I will find them. There is nowhere they can go to escape Equestrian justice. Now," she said calmingly, touching her long horn to his head, "get some rest. I am here for you, and all your brothers in arms." There was a soft, yellow glow as she gently lulled the wounded legionary into a deep sleep, his eyelids becoming heavy and his mind cleared of all worry, at least for a time.

And thank you. Your words will save lives.

As quietly as she could she stood up and returned to the apothecary, asking him to do his best. He bowed and said he would, and once again she was back outside where her waiting guards immediately flanked her. She was half way to her sky carriage when a young legionary came rushing up to her, skidding to a halt as a pair of swords were thrust in his direction to keep him away. Celestia signaled her guards, and the swords returned to their sides.

"Is there something wrong, legionary?"

"Princess, I was told to bring word to you. It's the chancellor of Whitetail -- he's here, at this encampment!"

She lifted a hoof in surprise. "The chancellor? I had not received any such notice. Are you sure?"

"He sent me himself. He wants to speak with you. Immediately." He took a half-step forward and added, "and he is very upset."

3 - Deception

Chancellor Artellus was a strong, well-built stag. Shorter than Celestia by a head, his large, decorated antlers still managed to make him look her equal in size. He was also darker than most of his kind, with a coat the color of wet earth flecked with white spots. He stood with confidence, a prime example of whitetail physique.

And his eyes glowed with a silent fury Celestia hadn't seen since her own sister had turned on her.

"Welcome to Equestria, Chancellor Artellus," the princess said with a respectful bow of her head, approaching the ruler of Whitetail and his retinue of guards. They wore glassy, crystal-like armor that radiated in the sunlight with a deep, almost otherworldly emerald color. At his side, a pair of does -- servants, most likely -- fanned him with large half-circles made of wooden frames and delicate paper.

"I was not aware you were going to be making a visit, good sir. To what do I owe the pleas--"

"You can cut the formalities, Celestia," he interrupted her, already raising his voice. "I am not here on leisure. I am here because of a number. A very specific number."

Celestia cocked her head. "A number? I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

Artellus was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. "Two-hundred and forty-seven, Celestia. Does that number mean anything to you?"

"I...cannot say it does. You'll excuse me if--"

"Two-hundred and forty-seven. That is the number of my citizens who were slaughtered by your military."

Celestia gasped at the accusation. "Chancellor, I assure you, this is the first I've heard of such a thing. In fact, the reason I am here is because one of our own patrols was attacked by what appears to be traitorous guardsmen. At no point have I heard of any attack on your nation."

"You haven't? Really? Because the settlement of River Run says otherwise. Perhaps you would like to bathe in the river of blood that now flows from its citizens?"

River Run. So she had been right...

"What? What are you hiding?" Artellus demanded.

"Nothing, Your Grace. You must understand, this is the first I've heard of this attack and--"

"DO NOT LIE TO ME!" He shouted, taking an aggressive step forward. Celestia's guards were fast, their swords at the ready within a heartbeat's time. They stared down the bucks in their glimmering armor, both sides daring the other to make the first move. "You know damn well what happened! I have numerous eyewitness accounts that place your Equestrian Guard at River Run that night! I have swords of Equestrian make still buried in the necks and skulls of my people! I have armor worn by your guards spattered with the blood of fawns and does, cut down in the roads and slaughtered in their homes! Half of River Run is now a burnt-out, blood-stained killing field!" He spoke through clenched teeth and glared with a seething anger he could barely contain. "And to think I used to trust you."

The pieces suddenly fell into place. How had she not seen it until now? The very village her doomed patrol had been sent to scout was also the closest village to where they had fallen, murdered by traitors. If the patrol had encountered the offending soldiers coming from opposite their direction, as Swift Strike had said, that would mean they had come from...

"River Run," she said quietly.

"Perhaps you would care to say that again, murderer," he spat out the word like bitter wine, his hatred and contempt causing him to literally shake where he stood.

"The guards that attacked my legionaries. They came from River Run."

Artellus lifted a cloven hoof to his chest in mock sympathy. "Oh. Oh, I see. You lost a few soldiers. I'm sure that will be of immense comfort to the fawns who watched their parents' throats get sliced in front of them!"

"You don't understand," she said, regaining a measure of composure. "Empress Elinwynn told me that a concentration of soldiers -- my soldiers -- were massing along Whitetail's borders. I told her I was unaware of any such encampment, so I asked the 44th Legion to search for exactly that sort of thing between this location and River Run."

"You sent armed soldiers into my territory?! And yet you still deny slaughtering my people!"

"I did not order them," she retorted, finally raising her voice, "to attack River Run! I would never do such a thing! Yes, I sent an armed patrol into Whitetail, but at no point did I ever tell them to attack anyone! They defended themselves, likely from the same guards who attacked your village, and all but one of them were killed in the process! And you dare come here, in front of my own stallions, and accuse me of murdering innocents?!" Celestia took a deep breath and calmed herself. "No. I will not have such an allegation thrown at me. Not for one moment. Not by you, not by anyone. I do not kill the innocent, Chancellor Artellus. If these...traitors...who killed my soldiers are the same you speak of, then I swear I will do everything in my power to see them brought to justice. But I did not have a hoof in their actions."

"And how do I know such claims are not simply a way to throw me off course? Having some of your own turn on each other is a very convenient way to absolve yourself of any guilt."

"Because the survivor of the attack is resting in the infirmary as we speak." Celestia motioned back toward the tent. "I have just finished conversing with him. The conviction in his voice, the strength of his words...they are as genuine as I've ever heard. I do not doubt him for a moment." She narrowed her eyes at the stag standing before her. "Furthermore, I do not appreciate accusations that I would commit such a terrible atrocity, Artellus. We have known each other for quite a while, have we not?"

"I suppose we have."

"And in all those years, when have I ever shown anything but goodwill to you and your people? Have we not helped each other in times of need?" She leaned in closer and looked him directly in the eyes. "What purpose would it serve me to kill innocent deer, to slaughter families? If you believe me a warmonger, Chancellor, then perhaps all of our years of friendship have been a sham and you truly know nothing about me."

Chancellor Artellus held her gaze for a long moment, then stomped a frustrated hoof in the dirt. He began to pace behind his guards, their swords still drawn. "I came here expecting to hear you attempt to justify such a horrible act, to say that River Run deserved what happened to it."

"You really think I would say something like that? I'm honestly hurt that you think so little of me."

He stopped, turning to face the princess, his expression suddenly softer.

"So you didn't attack Whitetail?"

"I swear I did not."

"And you really did lose good soldiers to a band of traitors?"

"That's how it appears thus far, yes."

Artellus let out a deep sigh. "Celestia...even if I were to believe you -- and I really want to -- you must understand: there are others who are not so easily persuaded. The people of Whitetail are calling for blood. Your blood. Convincing me is one thing, but the entirety of a nation? That's an whole different matter entirely."

"Then convince them, Chancellor. They'll listen to you."

"They'll listen to me only as far as the senate wills it." Artellus looked down to his guards. "Put those things away, there is no need for more bloodshed." Celestia's guards did the same, and at last there was an uneasy peace. "Whitetail isn't like Equestria, Princess. I have forty-three senators who expect me to carry out the will of the people, and the people expect me to call for war. I can tell them your story, but I fear my stance may be unpopular enough that the senate will seek to override my decision with a three-quarters vote."

Celestia frowned, disheartened by the news. "Surely you are not powerless as the head of the state. I could come with you. We could talk to the senate together, get them to understand that this is the work of an outside force. Or an inner one, as the case may be."

"I appreciate your conviction, but I believe the last thing you should do right now is step hoof in Whitetail. I don't think you fully grasp just how angry the population is right now." Artellus put a hoof to his forehead, seeking to calm a pounding headache that had been growing since his arrival. "Ancestors forgive me. Here I thought I might have an answer, have someone to blame for this atrocity, yet I show myself to be no better than an angry dog barking at shadows." He bowed his head deeply as he spoke. "I accosted you without evidence, insulted you and your nation, and for that I truly apologize, Princess Celestia. How foolish I must look..."

Celestia nodded lightly in return. "While I cannot say I approve of jumping to such conclusions, or the actions you took because of it...I accept your apology, Chancellor Artellus, and I mourn for the loss of your people. Such a thing is beyond anything I can imagine."

"Thank you, Celestia. That means a lot to me. And yet, now I face the prospect of returning to the senate with news that you are absolved of guilt, despite physical evidence to the contrary. They are not going to be so persuaded, I fear. I will tell them exactly what you have told me, but..."

Celestia stepped toward him and placed a hoof on his armored, silver-inlaid chest. "Speak with conviction, and they will listen. I'm sure of it."

For the first time, Artellus smiled.

"I wish I were as sure as you, Princess. But I have already caused you enough drama for one day, I think." He motioned to his guards. "Come, we take our leave." Artellus bowed to Celestia, and she bowed in return. "I truly hope we find who is responsible for this. And when we do, they will suffer for it."

Along the road running between Whitetail and Equestria, a lone carriage bumped and rolled over the rough dirt. Up front, a pair of emerald-clad guards pulled their leader and his two servants, chattering idly with each other as their passengers did the same. It was a long way back to the capital, especially with their return trip taking them around -- and thus avoiding -- the place where Equestria's legionaries were apparently attacked by their own. The same force that had slaughtered the town of River Run.

In his embellished, gold-inlaid seat, Chancellor Artellus had remained mostly quiet since he'd left the Equestrian encampment several hours ago. For what felt like an age he'd mulled over what he'd heard, what Princess Celestia had claimed. Could she actually be right? Was the attack on River Run the work of traitors? She'd certainly spoken with confidence.

"Would you like a cup of wine, Chancellor?" Faedris, one of his servant does, asked as her counterpart fanned the ruling buck. Artellus smiled at her and waved a hoof.

"No, thank you, Faedris. Reluctant though I am to turn down a fine Valed Meadow, I'm afraid I must keep my mental faculties under as much control as I can manage."

"As you wish, Chancellor."

Artellus stared at the doe for several seconds, cocking his head.

"Faedris, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Chancellor. Whatever you please."

"What did you think of Celestia?"

Faedris worked her mouth up and down, not sure how to respond to such a question.

"I...I'm not sure I understand. It is not my place to speak of such things, Chancellor."

"Please, I would like you to speak your mind. You need not fear reprisal, if that is what you're concerned about."

"Well...umm..." She tapped her chin with a hoof as she thought. "It's not quite something I have a lot of experience with, but the pony princess seems to believe in what she's saying. At least, as far as I could tell. Why do you ask?"

"Because I've no idea what to tell the senate. I thought perhaps an outside voice could help me make up my mind."

"Oh, of course, Chancellor. I'm more than happy to help."

"Very good." He turned to the servant opposite him, who was still cooling him with a large paper fan. "Arixia, would you care for some wine in my stead? No reason to let it go to waste."

Arixia, younger and lighter in coat than her fellow servant, blinked in surprise.

"Me, Chancellor?"

"Unless you know of another Arixia in this carriage. Think of it as a 'thank you' for your attendance."

"In that case...yes, thank you."

His antlers glowed with a crackling white energy as he levitated the cup to his servant.

"Faedris, I understand you have a pony in the family. Am I correct?"

She nodded. "Yes, Chancellor. My cousin married a pony -- a unicorn, I think they're called -- last year. They're quite a cute couple, if I do say so."

"I would imagine so," he said with a smile. "Have you had the chance to get to know this unicorn?"

"Somewhat. She is not around as often as we'd all like, what with living two towns away, but we've conversed at length a few times. Very interested in deer history, as it turns out."

"Being married to a deer will do that to you, hmm?"

"I suppose it would," she giggled.

"I must say, I envy you. I didn't even see a pony until my seventh birthday. Father was a senator at the time, and he had taken me to a gathering of the near-by rulers, and that's when I saw them -- a pair of winged ponies, flying over the meeting grounds. How I wished I could have joined them."

"That sounds very nice, Chancellor."

"Indeed it was." He let out a deep sigh. "And then for some bizarre reason, probably the onset of stupidity that comes with a career in politics, I thought I might try my hoof at running Whitetail. And now here I am, less than a year after election, and my own people have been slaughtered. Now I face the task of returning to Whitetail with only Celestia's good word to counter the pile of bodies laid at my seat." He was silent for a moment before continuing. "I must have looked a rank amateur and a horrific brute, accusing her of such a thing. I have never seen Celestia lose her temper, but I certainly warranted her doing that very thing."

"And you believe what she's said, Chancellor?"

"Some part of me doesn't want to, but Princess Celestia has been around far longer than I have. Unless she is extraordinarily well-versed in deceit, I've no real reason to doubt her resolve. And yet, the senate -- and more-so than even that, the citizens of Whitetail -- are not likely to care for my words of defense for the Equestrians. The more I think about it, the more I realize I'm facing an uphill struggle."

He looked at Faedris with a frown.

"Perhaps if Whitetail hadn't been so secretive for so many generations, marriage between our species would be more common. Perhaps we wouldn't be in this situation right now. We're so closely related to ponykind, and yet it feels like we're a world apart."

"You can't know that, Chancellor," Arixia answered him, finishing her cup of wine. "You've barely slept in days, and further worrying on the way to the capital will only serve to set you on edge before the senate. Who will you convince to see your view when you can barely stand or maintain your composure?"

"Sleep?" he said with a dismissive scoff. "My dear Arixia, if I don't come up with something by tomorrow I will--"

"Shhh...you will have plenty of time to consider such things when you've rested. After all, we can't have the most powerful stag in Whitetail losing focus, now can we? Now, lay your head back and relax. We will figure out something by tomorrow, I'm sure of it."

Reluctantly, Artellus closed his eyes, sure that he was wasting his time. A gentle song filled the carriage, one that was familiar to him since he was a fawn. His mind painted a picture of a beautiful meadow, a house near a babbling stream. Home. It had been so long. The thoughts comforted him, and soon he found himself asleep for the first time in days.

Evinwiir, the capital of Whitetail and trade hub for all manner of vendors passing through from Cervidae and Equestria. Always a busy place, it was frequently packed with traveling merchants, vendors, tourists and dignitaries. This time of year was particularly busy, the autumn harvest drawing in farmers and produce sellers from the far reaches of the continent. Bustling and outwardly friendly though the city was, there was a subtle undercurrent that ran through the crowds, waiting for someone to pick it out of the noise and chatter. It existed only in bits and pieces -- whispered rumors here, claims and exaggerations there. "River Run has been slaughtered to the last child," one would say. "No," a voice would answer him, "they left the children alive on purpose."

So much confusion, so much panic hidden just below the surface. Ponies and deer unfamiliar with each other eyed their distantly-related counterparts with suspicion and unease. Whitetail was a tightly-wound coil, just waiting for something to set it off.

Triarii intended to be that something. It was a name he had chosen for himself, taken from the old saying "gone to the triarii" -- the bitter end. He found it fitting. His old name, his old profession, his old life; none of it mattered. There was only Triarii, the willing instrument of change.

Casually he walked the cobblestone streets that wound around the tall, graceful curves of Whitetail architecture. Vendors shouted to him as he passed by in his purple cloak and thin robes, a popular deer fashion. It helped him blend in. Sometimes he would hear one of them curse his kind. "Disgusting equine," an old buck said from a corner. "Murderer! Filth!"

Triarii tolerated their barbs, shrugged off their verbal slings and arrows. They could say whatever they wanted. It wouldn't change anything. In the end they, too, would know the truth. His queen, his goddess, would see to it. She had assured him that much. And so he had entered Whitetail's biggest city willingly, without hesitation.

Up ahead, in the distance. A parting of the crowds, a murmur of commotion. The chancellor of Whitetail had returned after what felt like an age, his procession of carriages and chariots surrounded by deer guards in their glinting armor. Slowly, and with great purpose, he made his way to the front of the crowd as the chancellor's entourage patrolled ahead of him. Thousands of deer gathered around to catch a glimpse of their leader. Most paid him no attention, ignoring the pony that was half a head shorter than the average citizen. To them, he was just another Equestrian tourist or traveler.

The procession slowed to a halt in front of the steps of the senate building. Numerous senators in their ornate clothing and opulent antler decorations waited at the top. Good, more witnesses.

Chancellor Artellus finally stepped out of his carriage, flanked on either side by guards and servants. He waved a foreleg at the crowds and they erupted in cheer. Flowing, almost poetic deer language poured from his lips, and the gathered masses cheered once again. Ever the pragmatist, Artellus took several minutes to greet the front rows of citizens and converse with them. Some of them sounded angry, or upset, or deeply saddened. Survivors of River Run, perhaps? Relatives of those who were cut down? It mattered little.

Triarii's mouth twitched and his heart raced as the deer chancellor approached his side of the crowd, escorted by his personal guard. This was it -- this was the very moment he'd waited for, trained for, obsessed over for so many long weeks. Every step closer sounded louder in his ears until the crowd became a castrophany of voices and hoof stamps. He could hear the sound of his own breaths, echoing in his head and rippling through his body. Long seconds passed, each feeling like a lifetime. A few more steps.

And then, he struck.

"LONG LIVE EQUESTRIA!"

Even as he shouted his last words, his victory cry, the gladius hidden under his robe levitated out, enveloped in a sparkling, shimmering field of green magic. Time slowed as he saw the blade flip over, its sharpened point cutting through the air. It only had to travel a short distance. He could feel the resistance of the weapon as it plunged through the chancellor's skin, sliced apart muscle, fat, and sinew. Deeper, up to the very hilt, through the heart and the arteries. Stiff resistance; the ribs and spine. And there his blade stopped, for it could go no further.

The deer guards were fast. Very fast. But they were not fast enough. Two, then four, then countless blades tore through Triarii's body. The pain was incredibly vivid, bright splotches of darkness that punctuated his vision with every impact. Yet, he did not care. In his final, brief moments of life, before his body was torn open and his very essence drained from his form, he thought of his queen.

And he was content.

Morning of the seventh day. The last day of his leave. Out in the fields, Tercio was helping his father and a handful of paid workers to pick carrots from the ground. It was long, back-breaking work, but he'd endured far worse in the Royal Guard. At least here he could converse with his old neighbors and friends. Later that afternoon he would have to begin the long walk back to Canterlot, and tomorrow he would be back to drill and training as if nothing had happened. For now, he would enjoy the open air.

Some time before the sun reached its peak in the sky, a dot appeared in the distance, cresting over a hill and moving just above the ground. Tercio shaded his eyes from the sun and strained to see what the figure could be -- it was definitely a pegasus, he gathered shortly after, noting the stocky frame and flapping wings. As the flying pony approached he could make out details; a helmet that glinted in the sunlight, a dark cloak that trailed behind him. Whoever the pegasus was, he was flying exceptionally fast.

"Father," he called out, "what do you make of that?" He pointed to the figure as it gained altitude, hovered in the air for a long moment, then rapidly descended toward the farmhouse.

"I don't know, but it appears he's in a hurry. Why don't you go meet him at the front entrance?"

Tercio nodded and brushed the dirt from his trousers, making his way there even as the pony started pounding on the door. "Hold on, I'm coming!" He threw open the door, only to see a white pegasus with an amber mane standing before him, wearing a full set of armor. "Victus! I had no idea you were on the way! I would have told mother or --"

"Tercio! Have...have you not heard the news?" Victus had to lean against the doorway to catch his breath, inhaling deeply from the flight over.

"News? What news?" He bent down on a knee to be closer to his brother's height. "Victus. What news do you speak of?"

Victus set his jaw, his eyes wide with a near-panic, unsure of what to say for a long moment.

"It's Equestria, Tercio. We've been invaded."

4 - Family, Country and Royalty

Summervale was a full day's walk to Canterlot under the best of conditions. The dusty road traveled through Splitrock, then up to the hilltop town of Ashberry, before winding its way up through the rocky passes that led into the magnificent, hanging capital city. Knowing the march that awaited them, Tercio and his adoptive brother Victus began their trek shortly after the latter had flown in with news that shook them to the very core -- war had come to Equestria. Victus didn't have many details, but the knowledge that his home had been invaded by an outside force was enough to spur Tercio into action.

Sadly, that meant a sudden departure from their mother and father. Roughshod had understood and wished them both the best, but when their mother, Glimmering Grace, heard the word "war" she could hardly keep from crying for the entirety of the farewell. Tercio had felt horrible to leave his loving parents in such a state, but Victus had urged their immediate departure.

They were lucky to catch a wagon headed in the direction they were going, and after a short chat the old stallion pulling it had agreed to haul Victus and his strange-looking brother along, at least until Splitrock. From there, he had explained, they would have to travel the roads themselves.

Tercio looked to the sky, figuring it to be mid-afternoon by the sun's position. With luck they would be in Canterlot just after nightfall. He could only imagine what the capital was like at that very moment; likely it was a mess of forming military units, frantic intelligence gathering, and concerned citizens. Still, despite the troubles that surely lie ahead, he was glad to be beside his brother for the first time in many months.

"What do you make of it?"

Victus' voice took his attention away from the skies, where formations of pegasi were flying to some unknown destination.

"Hmm? Make of what?"

"This war, Tercio."

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've heard naught but rumors from neighbors and passing ponies thus far. It appears to be the deer in one form or another, but beyond that? I couldn't say. I don't suppose you know anything?"

"Only what I've heard. The deer have invaded from the south-eastern border of Whitetail. I don't believe they've encountered any towns just yet, but every moment they march onward is another moment for them to ransack some poor bastard's home. Or family."

"But why the deer? Up until this point they've shown no sign of aggression that I'm aware of."

"I don't know, but I would wager we'll find out upon returning to Canterlot."

"I wager we will." Tercio reached into the sack lying next to him, his armor clattering with the motion of the road. "Care for an apple?"

"Couldn't hurt."

A quick swipe of his gladius, and each brother took their half. They ate in silence for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts. Tercio spoke up as he tossed his core away.

"Mother misses you, you know. She worries you've forgotten her and father."

"I know, I know. I miss them, too. And you as well. But surely they understand that the Legion keeps me busy. Father, of all ponies, should realize that. And besides," he tossed the remains of his apple to the ground, "I do make an effort to write them when I can."

"You needn't convince me, brother. I just worry for mother's sake. She's...she's getting old. I fear she will not be around for too many more years."

"Do not speak of such things," Victus snapped, pointing a hoof. "Mother is in good health, and father is still strong and fit for his age. I will not hear otherwise."

"Sorry," Tercio said apologetically. "I meant no harm, it's just..." He searched for the words, chewing his lip. "We're soldiers, Victus. Soldiers who now find themselves at war, and in different branches: you in the Legion, and I in the Royal Guard. Tomorrow we will likely be returned to our units, and if we don't see each other or our parents again..."

"We will," Victus said with confidence, putting a foreleg on Tercio's back. "Trust in the old gods and the princess to see us through, and when this mess sorts itself we will drown ourselves in wine and mares."

Tercio chuckled at his brother's attitude, the same confidence and bravado he'd carried since they were children.

"You sound very sure of yourself."

"Of course, I'm in the Legion! No amount of tree-rutting deer could possibly hope to stop the 44th. Not to mention we still have to hunt down those bastards who betrayed us. You and your soft-skinned companions in the Royal Guard, however...well, I'm sure if the deer ever need someone to pretty-up their pricks, you'd be perfect for the job!"

"Fuck you, you ass," Tercio laughed. "The Legion may be well and fine, but when you need the real soldiers to save your asses, you know where to find us!"

"Yes, licking the princess' royal shoes!"

They laughed together for the first time in what felt like ages, and in that moment Tercio realized that he may never share a moment like this with his sibling again. He hoped he was wrong, and they would spend many hours reminiscing about their childhood together once the deer surrendered. And they would surrender, he was sure of it. It was only a matter of time, and lives to be lost.

"It's good to speak with you again, Victus. It's been a long time." Tercio slapped a hand on his brother's armored shoulder and smiled.

"Aye, that it has. I thought we might catch up on our trip back to Canterlot. That's why I haven't simply taken off and flown back. Not that you would know about flying, you poor bastard."

"You can keep your wings, brother, I'm quite happy with these." He wiggled his fingers with a smirk. "And so are the mares, or so they tell me."

Victus scoffed and waved a dismissive hoof. "Please, you should know by now that a whore will say anything you like so long as you pay her for it."

"You'd know all about whores, wouldn't you?"

"You're damn right I would! In fact, next time you're in Marestopholous, there's this gorgeous young pegasus I should introduce you to. She is very much worth the coin for her services rendered."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tercio chuckled. "In the mean time, I may have brought a small barrel of ale with me. Nothing much, just a few cups worth, but if you're interested in sharing a drink with your tall, ugly brother..."

"Ale, eh? I knew there was a reason I still put up with you." Tercio pulled a pair of cups from his bag and uncorked the quart-sized barrel, concentrating intently to keep the bumpy road from spilling a precious drop. "While we're at it, you're going to have to tell me about those mares you spoke of. Be warned, however, that I may have to call you out if I believe something to be far too outlandish even for you."

"Duly noted." Tercio held up his cup in a toast. "To mother and father, Equestria, and the best damn sibling I could ask for. Even if he is a massive pain in the ass."

Victus smiled and raised his hooves.

"I'll drink to that, brother."

In the far-off reaches of Whitetail Woods, a lone earth pony stepped into a large tent, one of many that had been set up in an informal encampment, covered with tree limbs branches and pine boughs to conceal it from prying pegasus eyes. The dark of night and the chill wind sent a shiver down Libertus' spine, not from fear or cold, but from excitement and anticipation. The chancellor of Whitetail had been eliminated, struck down by an assassin's blade, just as She had said it would be. How he wished he could have seen the faces that day as the pathetic deer was stuck like an unruly creature of the forest. He smiled with the knowledge that he had chosen well his path in life, away from the corruption and inaction of Equestria, away from the shouted insults and gazes of mockery that met him whenever he announced his devotion to his Dark Queen.

"Traitor," they'd called him. "Extremist. Cultist." It mattered not, for he knew within the very pit of his soul that his was the true way. He did have to thank the Equestrian military for one thing, though: his training. Three years of service had given him the skills necessary to join other like-minded followers, many of them still choosing to wear their Equestrian Guard armor in battle, or during the spilling of blood. They wore their gore-stained steel and iron as a badge of pride, a sign of true devotion to Her way of life and beyond. So it had been when they'd slaughtered the opulent, pathetic deer of River Run, and so it had been when they'd ended the slave-like service of the Legion patrol. The legionaries should have thanked him and his brothers for freeing them from such demeaning servitude, but they would meet the Dark Queen in the afterlife, and there she would show them the truth of their after-existence.

Libertus. Freed from slavery. It was a good name, a meaningful name he was proud to call his own. He embraced his new life, just like his comrades, and here he felt more at home than he'd ever felt in Equestria.

Deep inside the tent, a small shrine had been set up to Her glory: burning candles, offerings of severed antlers and Legion armor clasps still caked with blood. Libertus stood before it in awe, finding comfort in the flickering light cast upon the walls. Then, with a great sense of excitement, he reached out and grasped the necklace charm from its pedestal, an ancient symbol of a deer and a pony in the style of the wondrous Pisces constellation. In ages long past, it had meant peace and cooperation between the species -- though Libertus viewed it as weakness and contentedness. Now, with the help of his Queen, it would mean war and aggression. Equestria and Whitetail would burn, and the world would be cleansed for it.

"My eternal ruler," Libertus spoke softly, closing his eyes and focusing on the charm between his hooves, "my Dark Queen, I call to you on this night. I beg of you: come forth and grace me with your glory, that I may be the instrument of your will." Seconds passed. Long seconds. Had he done the summoning improperly? Had She forgotten about him? His fears were assuaged as a voice spoke to him from behind, a strong, powerful voice.

"Libertus."

"My Queen, you honor me with your presence." He averted his eyes to the floor and bowed on his knees.

"Rise, my servant, and gaze upon me." Libertus stood as he'd been told, once more coming face-to-face with the swirling, smokey visage of the winged unicorn. She towered over him, her form at once ethereal and perceptible only on the edges of his vision, like a storm cloud made of shadows and mist.

"I...I am not worthy of such respect, my Queen!"

"Shhhhh," the shadowy form whispered, "you are worthy of so much more, Libertus. You and your comrades, your brothers in battle. Tell me, what news do you bring?"

"My Queen, I bring word of war. Chancellor Artellus, the smug, self-assured leader of the Whitetail, has been slain by one of our own. The assassin perished in the attack, but accomplished his mission."

"Then he will be remembered for all time, and his soul will join the Great Calling, just as yours will one day soon."

"It is all I can ask for, my Queen."

"And what of Whitetail?"

"The senate was gathered to welcome back Artellus from his trip to Equestria. They witnessed the murder of the deer chancellor by the blade of an Equestrian. I saw the shock in their eyes myself. After the slaughter of River Run, it was the last push the meek nation needed. Within hours the senate had declared war on Equestria, and the armies of the deerfolk already march across her borders. It is only a matter of time until the bloodshed truly begins."

"Good. This is excellent news, Libertus. Already I can sense the chaos, the uncertainty. The citizens of Whitetail are thirsty for the blood of Equestrians. Has Senator Vinawyll taken control of the nation, as was expected?"

"I believe so, Your Eternal Grace. Vinawyll is a coward who will bow to the senate without question. He is merely a puppet, a figurehead."

"Then he will be of no real consequence." The shadowy figure stood silent for a moment, only the sound of her swirling form filling the tent. "You have served me well, Libertus. In the coming days I will have one, last favor to ask of you. I leave it to you and your brothers to prepare as necessary. When the time comes, I will call on you. You will not fail me."

"Of course, my Queen. I will do whatever you ask." For a fraction of a second, Libertus swore he could see a predatory, sharp-toothed grin, and in that moment he found himself both terrified and elated. He would succeed, and he would join Her in eternal glory and sit beside Her on the throne of darkness, or he would fail and his soul would be tormented for a thousand generations.

"Think on my words. Embrace them, as I have embraced you. And when I am ready...we will strike."

The shadowy figure faded from view, becoming a cloud of shimmering vapor that scattered with the breeze. Libertus set the charm back on its pedestal, bowing his head at having had the honor of speaking with Her once more.

"I am yours to command," he whispered solemnly, "my eternal Nightmare Moon."

"Legatus Phalanx, Decanus Tercio Krosus and Decanus Victus Krosus reporting for duty."

Tercio and Victus came to attention and snapped out sharp salutes, placing a hand or a hoof over the center of their chests with their helmets tucked into their left sides. Night had already begun to fall on Canterlot, and the barracks was a hive of bustling activity -- commanders carrying out their tasks, guardsmen checking their gear and packing away supplies for their deployments, orderlies and aides carrying the word of the princess.

"Welcome back, Tercio," their commanding officer said, not looking up from his mound of paperwork. "I trust you enjoyed your time away?"

"Yes, sir, I did."

"Good. A little break now and then does wonders for the body and mind." Phalanx lifted his head slightly and peered at the pegasus before him with his one good eye. "Who the blazes are you?"

"Victus Krosus, my Legatus," the other answered smartly. "Decanus of the 44th Legion and brother to Tercio."

"The 44th, huh? Poor bastards. I heard about what happened to that patrol. My condolences, legionary."

"Thank you, sir. They were good stallions to the last."

"So I would imagine." Phalanx looked over the two soldiers standing before him, so completely different from one another. "You two're brothers?"

"Yes, sir," Tercio answered. "Victus is my adoptive brother, but I care for him as my own blood, and he for me."

"Hmm. Didn't expect him to be a pegasus," Phalanx mumbled, turning his attention back to the scrolls stacked on his desk. Victus shot a look at his brother, but Tercio simply shrugged -- Phalanx was one of the literal and proverbial old guard, wary and suspicious of non-earth ponies. It was a sentiment that had slowly begun to die out in the Equestrian military, but pegasi and unicorns were still typically assigned to their own squads within their associated units.

"...we were awaiting orders, sir?"

"Huh? Oh, right." The old, battle-scarred pony flipped through the rolled-out scrolls, holding them up to the right side of his face, his left eye covered by a white patch that wrapped around his head. "Vanarius, Valor, Vertigo...ah, here. Victus. 44th Legion. Says here you're to return to your unit as it's currently positioned, along the eastern border of Whitetail. They've had to fall back a ways once the deer advance began, but as far as I know they haven't entered any combat just yet. If you fly north-west to Timber Falls and then west toward the border you should run into the 44th after a few hours time. No doubt they'll be expecting your return."

"Yes, Legatus."

"Understood? Good. You're dismissed, Decanus Victus. Find a bunk for the night. You can depart in the morning." Victus gave a smart salute and turned to leave, quietly telling his brother to find him whenever he had the chance. "As for you, Decanus Tercio Krosus, there is something we need to discuss."

Tercio felt a lump rise to his throat. The only time the Legatus had to "talk" with anyone was when they were about to face a world of shit. He wondered what he'd done, and how bad the punishment would be.

"I'm not going to lie to you, the situation with the deer is fucked," Phalanx admitted. "Our forces are scattered throughout the land and things have escalated so quickly we haven't had sufficient time to reinforce the border with Whitetail."

"Have we had any battles with them yet, sir?"

"Only small skirmishes. Neither side seems committed to a large attack just yet. Old gods know we can't take them head-on just yet. The deer are many things but they are not stupid. They'll gather their forces and push when they believe victory is assured, and my gut tells me that'll be sooner rather than later. I'm guessing Artellus didn't get the chance to talk some sense into them..."

"So is it true? The chancellor has been assassinated?"

"Bloody fucking mess that is," the old stallion grumbled. "He was struck down by a pony carrying an Equestrian blade. No identifying armor or tags of any sort, so whoever he was he likely realized it was a one-way trip. You ask me, I think it's the same cocksuckers who tore into the Legion patrol and wiped out River Run. This carries their mark, without a doubt."

"The same? So the ones who attacked us were not guardsmen after all?"

"Hard to say, but if I had to place coin on it I'd say they were pretending to be Equestrian Guard just to start this damn war. They knew what they were doing, this wasn't some random attack by traitors." He laughed bitterly. "Too bad such a realization is completely in hindsight."

"What of Whitetail, sir? Surely they should know of such a thing."

"They should, but they won't listen. First they lose a few hundred of their citizens, then their chancellor bleeds out on the steps of the senate building. There is nothing in this world that is going to convince them that we're not at fault here. As such, we're going to need all the leadership we can get out there. The princess has decided to send me to take command of both the Legion and Guard forces situated due west."

"I see, sir. Congratulations."

"Don't you congratulate me, Tercio. I've overseen the elimination of bandit camps and criminal organizations, but all-out war is just as new for me as it is for you. I had hoped to never step foot onto a battlefield for the rest of my old, crotchety life, but I am a servant of Equestria first and foremost. If Her Highness requests my aid, she shall have it again. Even if her sister isn't around to talk sense into her."

"Uh, yes, sir."

"Right. In my stead, I will be promoting Centurion Cestus to Canterlot overseeing duties. He'll be Legatus Cestus now. He's already been made aware of this, so you can spare him the platitudes."

Tercio was somewhat surprised -- Cestus had always been a good friend and a loyal soldier, but as a Centurion he wasn't in his element. He'd often spoken of longing for the days of the rank of Decanus, where he only had to care for perhaps a dozen soldiers at most. Now he was being placed in command of thousands of Royal Guard.

"So...that just leaves you, human."

"Sir?"

"Effective immediately, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Centurion, and your position within the 23rd Royal Guard will subsequently be given to an underling." Tercio gasped in surprise, a promotion the last thing he'd expected. "As of now, you are with the 105th Royal Guard. Technically that makes Cestus your immediate C.O., though the two of you will likely not have need of butting heads. I imagine his duties will keep him away from the palace for quite some time. He is still 'sir' to you, for the sake of formality, but you're under the orders of the princess before anything else."

"Sir, if I may... the 105th is--"

"Princess Celestia's personal palace guard, yes. You are now a Praetorian, rank Centurion. Is there a problem with that?"

A Centurion and a Praetorian? All at once?

"No, sir, not at all. I was simply not expecting such an honor."

"Well I wasn't expecting to be sent to out to fight a bunch of tree-rutting deer today, either, but shit happens...Centurion." Tercio remained silent, but he could feel Phalanx's gaze upon him. "You can just say it, Tercio. You're wondering why you're being given this position."

"That I am, Legatus."

"It's not 'Legatus' for long. Going to be 'General' soon. But yes, you were chosen for the 105th after much deliberation with both the princess and the other officers of the Royal Guard. You may be ugly as sin -- what with those lanky arms and tall frame of yours -- and stubborn as a damned mule, but you consistently out-perform the other guards in combat drills and tactical exercises. I don't know if you're actually decent at what you do, or if you're just damned lucky, or both, but you've impressed enough of the Royal Guard to warrant a promotion. I suggest you accept it."

"I will, sir. Thank you, I'm honored."

Phalanx grunted. "Mmm. You'd better be. And you'd better be on alert at all times; now that we're at war, the princess is a prime target for assassination. You must tend to her as she asks, and trust no one you couldn't personally vouch for. Not the citizens of Equestria, not even your former fellow guardsmen. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

"Good. In the morning you will report to Princess Celestia personally. You'll have your standing orders from there. For now, you're dismissed. I suggest you wash up and make yourself presentable for the princess. And for the love of all things decent, clean that damn armor. You look like you've been rolling around with the pigs all day."

Tercio stood at attention and saluted. "I won't let you down, Legatus."

"I know you won't, otherwise I'd have to kick your ass, and I don't care how big and ugly you are." Tercio could have sworn he saw Phalanx crack the tiniest hint of a grin, but it was gone in a blink. "Dismissed, Centurion."

Tercio saluted quickly and set out to locate Victus to pass along the good news. Just wait until he hears about this, he thought with an amused smile, technically he has to call me 'sir' now...

He couldn't wait to see the reaction on his brother's face.

Morning. It had come far too quickly, and with far too much sunlight. Tercio groaned at the rays of light that seemed impossibly bright in his eyes, especially after he and Victus had spent several hours at a local tavern celebrating his new promotion. He had no idea what time it was when he snuck back into the barracks, but he did know what time it was now: too damned early. He rubbed his tired eyes, noticing that he was one of the few soldiers still left. A guard opposite his bunk was busy strapping on his gear. Tercio called out to him.

"Guardsman, have you an idea of the time?"

The guard looked up from his partially-assembled outfit, lifting an eyebrow.

"It is early morning. Do not worry, the sun is still low in the sky. Whatever appointment you're to keep, I doubt you've missed it just yet." He added, "by the way, it's Guardsman Balteus"

Tercio let out a relieved breath. "Ah, of course. Thank you, Balteus, that's what I was hoping."

With his mind at ease -- if still swimming from last night's celebration -- he began the complex task of properly assembling his clothing and armor for the day.

He started with his basic, light-brown tunic, a mostly-decorative pteruges skirt made of detailed sections of leather and fabric, and a scarf to protect his neck from chafing. The tunic was simple, but comfortable, with reinforced shoulders to keep the edges of the armor from biting into his skin. Next came his sword belt, made of leather and covered in small pouches for extra storage space. His sharpened blade slid into the sheathe with a satisfying scraping of material. Then came the caliga, his sandal-like marching boots that wrapped up halfway to his knees. They were comfortable enough, but on long marches they chafed the sides of his feet.

After that, the real work began: First his chainmail shirt, then his manica and greaves; arm and leg guards, made of flexible but sturdy lengths of shaped iron with leather backings and held in place by straps and buckles. After so many years he'd become used to the weight, the feel of the armor tugging on his upper arms and lower legs. It was a comforting feeling now, one that meant protection and familiarity.

The bulk of the armor protection, of course, came from his Lorica Segmentata, a strong, sturdy armor piece that covered his torso from collar to waist, made of strips of leather-backed steel and iron joined together so that no weak point remained, no place where a sword could pierce. The chest plate had been moulded to show an idealized version of his physique -- one that he grumbled about every time he put it on, knowing full-well he'd likely never actually look like that. The edges of the armor were decorated with golden inlays, a gift from his joining of the Royal Guard several years ago, and if nothing else it at least looked impressive.

Also cosmetic was a cloak that was held together by a clasp over the collar of his armor. It hung down over his back, a dark gold in color to signify the Royal Guard, and stopped at the back of his knee. More than anything else, the cloak -- technically a sagum -- represented status, providing a quick way for the lower ranks to identify their superiors. Tercio's was relatively simple, just a length of fabric, but more prestigious cloaks were often decorated with designs of golden thread, stylized wheat stalks, or ancient Equestrian symbols for power, mercy, or whatever the soldier in question was known for.

Lastly, but just as important as the segmented armor, was his galea -- his helmet. A mostly-standard Equestrian helm, complete with ear and nose segments, though modified for his anatomy. A crest of red, dyed pony hair ran from the front of the helm to the back, an easy way for his soldiers to identify him in the midst of battle...or for the enemy to do the same, should he be unfortunate. He still fondly remembered the day he received his helm; he was the butt of jokes for the entire week, as most soldiers his rank or higher simply let their manes stick up through a hole in the top of their helmet. You could always tell a devoted Guard officer or NCO by the strip of red they'd have along the upper portion of their manes. They considered it a badge of honor. Personally, Tercio was happy to keep his own dark hair short and stick with a fake crest.

"Krosus!" Tercio jumped at the sudden outburst from the doorway, hastily standing at attention. A large, well-built stallion was standing there in full regalia, with a trio of golden bars in the middle of a horse shoe denoting his rank of Imperator.

"Sir!"

"I trust you're aware of your introductory meeting within the hour?"

"Yes, Imperator. I was just finishing up my armor, sir."

"Good. I suggest you do not keep the princess or your new friends in the 105th waiting. You're a Praetorian now, you'd damn well better act like it."

"I won't let you down, sir."

"See to it that you don't. The 105th is my unit, and in my unit we run a very tight schedule."

"Of course, sir."

Without another word, the Imperator turned and left. Tercio waited until he was down the hall to break his stance.

"Hard ass..."

A laughing Balteus trotted past, tossing his sword onto his back.

"I see you met Imperator Stonewall."

"Yeah. He's gonna be my new commander, it seems."

"You poor bastard." The pony guard called out over his shoulder. "Better you than me!"

It almost didn't feel real. After two years of service in the Royal Guard, Tercio was finally going to meet the princess herself. Up until now he'd only ever seen her from afar; "The Royal Guard" was more like "The Canterlot Guard" when all was said and done. Ponies had always asked him what Princess Celestia was like, and he'd always have to tell them the same thing: He had no idea. The Praetorians? They were the real deal, directly responsible for the protection of Equestria's now-sole ruling princess.

Security was certainly tough -- between the common barracks and the palace doors there had been six different guard stations. He'd considered just walking with his identification out at all times, for whatever good it would do. At last he'd arrived at his destination: The end of a long hallway covered in stained glass frescoes, with a large pair of intricately decorated doors that towered over his form in an arched, flowing curve. A pair of Praetorians in golden armor stood watch, spears held firmly against their bodies. Interestingly, he noted, they were both pegasi -- something of a rarity in the normal Royal Guard, or even the Legion. The two guards crossed their spears with practiced precision as he approached, blocking his way.

"State your business."

"Centurion Tercio Krosus, here to see Princess Celestia. Legatus Phalanx said I was to--"

"Oh, right," the guard on the left said as they pulled their spears back. "You're the, uh...hooman?"

"Human," Tercio corrected him. "But I am a soldier first and foremost. My physical appearance matters little."

"As you say. Still...never seen your kind before."

"Yeah, I get that a lot..."

"Anyway, you're free to enter. The princess will be joining you shortly, I believe she's still in her chambers taking care of...princess things."

"Princess things?" Tercio asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Forgive my compatriot," the other guard said, "he's somewhat informal at times."

"That's fine with me, informal is a nice break from the monotony of drill and pomp." It suddenly dawned on him that he was likely speaking to soon-to-be colleagues. "My apologies, I didn't realize you were Praetorians. I suppose we'll be serving alongside each other soon." He stuck out a closed fist. "Tercio."

"Decanus Reveille, nice to meet you." The grey pegasus bumped Tercio's fist with his hoof, while Tercio mouthed the name of his new comrade several times, getting used to its pronunciation.

Rev-uh-lee...

"Decanus Morning Star," the second pony said, his coat a much brighter orange. Tercio noted that he didn't stick his hoof out, but simply tipped his spear and gave a slight nod. Between the two, Reveille seemed far more personable.

"Morning Star? Quite a fitting name for this line of work, I'd say."

Morning Star rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, as many before you have said, and as many after you will no-doubt continue to say."

Both soldiers were Decani in rank, but neither had saluted Tercio or called him 'sir'. He considered asking why that was, but thought better of it -- the Praetorians had their own rules, that much was clear. He hoped to get some sort of solid information on such things.

"It's good to meet the both of you, soldiers, but I really ought to wait for the princess. No doubt we'll see each other soon."

"No doubt," Morning Star said. "Two rules before you enter, soldier: Keep your hooves...hands...visible at all times, and be on your best behavior. Though you may be the only one in there with the princess, you are not alone. Is that clear?"

Not particularly. "Perfectly clear, Decanus Morning Star."

"I should hope so."

With a slight grunt of exertion the massive double doors swung open, slowly revealing the throne room itself. The sight took Tercio's breath away.

A large, circular room, two-tiered with banister-lined balconies, greeted his eyes. Large windows adorned the upper level and sunlight streamed in to shine on the polished, marble floor that glittered with flecks of gold. Long, curved ribbons of pink, green and blue hung from the balconies and intertwined with each other, reaching all the way to the end of the room, where they formed a circle that bordered a large tapestry that showed the entirety of Equestria -- from the Whitetail Woods in the west, to the Swayback Mountains in the east, and all points in between.

Underneath the huge banner, covered in a rainbow of colorful flowers and gold-embroidered red silk, sat the throne. More of an oval-shaped dais than an actual seat, which he supposed only made sense for a pony. Or a leader of ponies. An arching back wall showed an engraved scene of some sort, though he couldn't make it out from where he was standing. The whole area gave off an air of power, but he found it oddly comforting as well. Countless pillows of all sizes were laid against the corners or formed into seating circles, and he could imagine himself falling into a pile of them and drifting off to sleep in the warmth of the mid-day's glow.

A noise caught his attention, distant at first.

Click-clack, click-clack.

Metallic hoofsteps. She was approaching. His heart began to race, and he frantically looked himself over once more, making sure his uniform was exactly as it should be. The hoofbeats grew louder until it sounded like she was just around the corner.

Not just 'she', he thought, but the ruler of all of Equestria. His Princess.

His pulse still pounding in his ears, he bent down on one knee with his helmet at his side, and lowered his head in respect and admiration. The sound of the princess' arrival entered the room, then stopped a short distance from him. He could feel her strong presence, and though he had thought the moment would be nerve-wracking, he found his heartbeat steadying and a sense of calm coming over him. Gradually and gently, like a soft breeze. He found his voice after several seconds. He spoke as he continued to avert his gaze to the floor.

"My Princess, I, Tercio Krosus, son of Roughshod, and Centurion of Equestria and her people, greet you and hereby offer my life to you in service to the crown."

He waited for what felt like a very long time, though he was sure it couldn't have been more than a few breaths. Was she trying to determine what he was? Was she confused or revolted by his strange physique? Surely she had known of his arrival...

"Please rise, Centurion. There is no need to avert your eyes here."

"Y-Yes, Princess." Slowly, he stood back up, straightened himself out, and turned his gaze to meet her. He gasped softly, his eyes growing wide despite his formality.

"Welcome, Tercio," she said with a voice as soft as the finest silk and a smile that was as warm as the sunlight itself. "I am Princess Celestia, and it is a pleasure to finally meet you after all this time."

5 - Gilias of the Skyguard

Tercio stood before Princess Celestia, wanting more than anything to simply gaze upon her with his mouth agape. She was beautiful, even more so than when he'd seen her at a distance. He'd often heard others speak of her as the ideal of the pony form, and as he took in her radiance he couldn't help but agree. Everything about her was perfect in its grace, its shape and figure, and he found himself in a momentarily trance-like state as he focused on her long, colorful mane and tail that seemed to flow with an unseen ethereal wind and sparkle with the mid-day's sun. The curves of her body, soft yet shapely, the confident and comforting gaze of her pink eyes, her--

"Tercio? Are you feeling alright?"

The princess' voice snapped him back to reality, and he quickly composed himself and cleared his throat, trying his hardest not to make it obvious.

"Uh, yes, Princess. Ahem. I am simply honored and taken aback by finally meeting the ruler of Equestria."

She offered a warm smile. Tercio thought she was likely used to such a reaction, and he wondered how many times she'd seen that same look.

"You are too kind, but please, have a seat." She motioned to a row of large pillows off to one side. Her golden, metallic shoes clacked on the marble floor as she took her place alongside Tercio, and only then did he realize just how tall she was. From her hooves to the top of her head she was just as tall as he was, a fact that surprised him greatly -- Tercio was nearly twice as tall as every intelligent creature he'd run into, with the exception of a few particularly large earth ponies who came up to the middle of his chest. The long, spiraling horn on her head made her taller than him by a bit, and he could imagine her being both intimidating and awe-inspiring to behold by any pony in the land. She was beautiful, regal, and carried herself with confidence, just as he imagined the sovereign of his nation would be.

"Tercio Krosus, our newest centurion. It has been a long time coming, has it not?"

"My promotion, you mean? I merely seek to serve Equestria by any means, my Princess, regardless of rank."

She laughed softly. "It is okay to speak freely around me, Tercio. Please, do not think of me as one of your superior officers, but rather as a friend."

"Yes, my Princess," he said said before he could even think. Years of discipline had ingrained it in him. "My apologies, it's simply a bit unexpected."

"We'll work on it." They sat down on the large pillows; Tercio had to adjust his sword belt to keep it from dragging against the floor. "Congratulations on your promotion. Your stallions spoke highly of you, and they played no small part in considering you for such a position."

"Thank you, Princess. I'm honored that so many of them considered me worthy of such praise. To be honest, I sometimes wondered how long I would be a decanus. My father reached the same rank before he left the Equestrian Guard, you see."

"I remember him. Roughshod, I believe his name was."

Surprise was plainly visible on his face. "You knew my father?"

"Briefly, yes. We talked for a short time when I was touring a Guard camp. That must have been, oh...forty years ago? How is he these days?"

"Quite well, if prone to foul moods. I forget you've lived such a long life," he said with a chuckle. "I imagine you've spoken with quite the number of soldiers over the years."

"One or two," she answered, laughing quietly.

"But yes, to answer your original question: I'm glad to be of service to Equestria as a centurion. And a Praetorian, no less. Two new titles in one day is quite unexpected, as you can imagine." He rapped his knuckles against the helmet at his side. "Royal Guard for six years, Equestrian Guard for eight before that. Sometimes, when I was younger, I'd see you and Princess Luna, and--"

He caught himself, wincing at the boundaries he felt he'd just overstepped. An almost imperceptible flash of emotion went through Celestia's eyes, but she hid it with a practiced smile.

"Ah...my apologies, Princess. I did not mean to bring up such a personal memory in your presence, especially after...."

"No, it's fine," she answered. "The memory you speak of, is it a happy one?"

"It is."

"Happy memories are how I choose to remember my sister, Tercio. Not as the thing she became. Please, continue."

"Yes, Princess, of course. I...I'd sometimes see the both of you riding in your pegasus-drawn carriage, and I'd imagine meeting you in person, but I was young and I held no real hope of such a thing. After all, what was I but another soldier?"

She smiled. "And yet, here you are."

"So it would seem. My brother and I, we would often sit out back during our visits home and watch the moon rise over the mountains. He was convinced you and your sister were nigh unapproachable." He laughed and added, "he, uh, often professed his infatuation for her." That made Celestia chuckle, and he was glad he hadn't stepped on any proverbial hooves.

"Your brother and half of Equestria, it sometimes seemed. Perhaps one day I will show you the veritable mountain of scrolls she received from admirers." Tercio didn't ask, but he imagined Celestia received just as many.

Finding his throat dry, he lifted the cap from his water flask and took a long gulp.

"Pardon me, Princess."

"No need for apologies. If you're thirsty, you need only say so. Perhaps we can get you something a little more tasteful than lukewarm water."

"Oh. That would be quite nice, thank you."

Celestia tapped her hoof against the floor three times, and an attractive young mare appeared in the doorway a moment later.

"Yes, Princess? How may I help you?"

"Primrose, would you mind fetching a pair of glasses for myself and my guest?"

"Of course, Princess Celestia. Anything in particular?"

"Juice of some kind. Surprise us."

"As you wish."

The mare disappeared back around the corner, returning a short time later with two drinks carried on a tray on her back.

"Thank you, Primrose."

"You're very welcome, Princess. Enjoy your refreshments."

Tercio grabbed a drink from the tray, swirling it around in the cup that almost seemed to be made of mother-of-pearl. A dark, purple juice met his lips and he took a cursory taste -- sweet, but not overly so.

"This is quite good," he said between sips. "Thank you, my Princess."

"You're very welcome. Opalberry juice, from the Everfree forest. It's only in season for a short time, so we make sure to stock up on it."

"To be honest, this is the first drink I've been offered since my arrival in Canterlot that isn't alcohol of some sort. I was beginning to wonder if everyone here had stomachs of iron."

"I have never been much of a drinker, mostly special occasions. A nice glass of juice helps keep my mind focused, I find."

Tercio finished his glass and set it to the side. "Princess, would you mind if I asked you a question? About my posting, I mean."

"Not at all," she said with a reassuring smile. "Ask whatever question you like."

He chewed his lip as he mulled over how to ask what was on his mind, eventually deciding to simply speak earnestly.

"My posting -- here, to the Praetorians, and as a newly-promoted Centurion -- what brought about such a decision? Surely there are members of the Royal Guard, or the Legion, who are better qualified for such an honor. Ponies who have fought in actual combat, or know the inner workings of Canterlot and its garrisons. I suppose what I'm ultimately asking is..."

"Why you?" she finished for him.

"Yes. If it's something you can share, of course. I would not want to intrude on things above my pay grade."

Celestia adjusted her position on the pillows, looking at Tercio for a moment before answering.

"It was a matter of many different factors. Welcoming someone into my personal guard is a heavy undertaking, with weeks of reviews by current and former officers, conversations with those who served under the soldier in question, disciplinary record reviews...all manner of potential criteria. You can imagine the trust that is needed for such an assignment."

He nodded. "That I can."

"With that said...yes, there are more experienced soldiers in the Royal Guard or the Legion, or even the Equestrian Guard as a whole. Yes, there are ponies who know Canterlot like their birth home. But there is something inside of you that I saw from the moment I watched you run out into that courtyard on that horrible night."

The night Luna was banished, he thought.

"Even after witnessing one of your own lose his life, you did not hesitate for a moment to do your duty and protect the palace. There is something special in your heart, Tercio." She placed a hoof over his chest. "Devotion."

"Devotion? I'm not sure I understand. We are all devoted to protecting you, Princess."

"That may be true, but I speak of more than just devotion to your duty. I've read your service history. I've spoken to your friends and your commanding officers. They all come to the same conclusion: You devote yourself -- mind, body, and heart -- fully and completely, striving to make yourself the best you can truly be, because of how different you are."

Tercio felt her words in the very depth of his being, as if he's spoken them himself.

"You are not the fastest, or the strongest. You cannot fly or perform feats of magic. But you do not give up on something once you set your mind to it. You have potential, Tercio Krosus. That is why I selected you for my personal guard."

He wasn't entirely sure what to say; he felt honored by her placing so much trust in him, but potential? He saw that in every soldier he'd ever commanded or taken orders from. He wasn't going to question such a decision, however. Not when it came directly from the princess herself.

"I...shall endeavor to fulfill that potential you see in me, Princess. I believe it may simply take some time to get used to my new posting."

"I'm sure it will. You will meet your fellow Praetorians later today; most of them are out on a training exercise outside of the city. In the mean time, please speak with Centurion Polaris, just outside the palace entrance. He'll familiarize you with the Praetorian barracks."

"Of course, Princess." Tercio stood up and brushed himself off. "I realize I may not be privy to such information, but is there any news on the war? Any victories or defeats?"

Celestia shook her head. "Nothing of importance thus far. Scouts from Cloudsdale have been relaying Whitetail positions to our forces as frequently as possible, but the Whitetail are surprisingly slow to launch a major assault for their rapid push into Equestrian lands."

"Any idea why?"

"I couldn't say. My hope is that the Whitetail senate is just making a show of force, but I'm preparing for the worst. I've spoken with representatives from Zevran, the Griffon Empire, and the Cervedaen Hegemony, asking them all for support or negotiation backing. They don't seem particularly fond of getting involved militarily, and I can't say I blame them too much. We have not seen a war in our lands for hundreds of years. And now this happens..."

"Well whatever may come, Princess, I stand ready to defend both you and my country from aggression. No matter the cost."

"Thank you," she said with a light smile. "But I have kept you for too long, and no doubt you have personal effects to attend to. If you have any questions, Legatus Stonewall will be your immediate commanding officer. He's a good stallion, if a little...rough at times."

"So I've noticed." Tercio placed a fist over his chest and bowed in a salute. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Princess Celestia. Thank you for your time and your company. Oh, and the drink, lest I forget." He laughed nervously and added, "and here I thought I would never even get the chance to see you in person. I am greatly honored."

"The pleasure was all mine," she answered with a bow of her own. "Perhaps we will speak again soon."

"I would like that very much."

With that, he turned smartly in place and walked out, through the double doors and past the sentries, down the great entrance hall and around the glistening foyer that marked the entrance to the palace's inner chambers. He felt rejuvinated, relaxed -- for all his worries and doubts, he had encountered no more issue speaking with the ruler of Equestria than he would have had with any other citizen. Less, in fact. Something about her presence made him feel alive.

He hoped it wouldn't be the last time they met.

Victus drew his sword from its sheathe, clutching it tightly in his mouth. He was focused intently on his opponent who had done the same. Both of them stood in place, daring the other to make the first move. A few seconds was all it would take to decide the battle -- strike, counter-strike, death blow. Quick, practiced, deadly. His opponent struck first, splaying his wings open in an attempt to distract Victus' eyes, but the Legionary knew better than to fall for such a simple trick. He parried the first swing of the enemy's gladius, feeling the clash of metal on metal reverberate through the sword and into his mouth, then down his body. A second strike came in, and Victus sidestepped it and answered the attack with his own thrust into the side of the neck, stabbing hard and decisively.

"Ow! Alright, alright, I give! Goddesses, Victus, that thing hurts."

The young legionary dropped his training sword and rubbed his neck with a hoof.

"Oh stop being a child, Nimbus. You're lucky they're blunted, or you'd be bleeding out right now."

"At least if bled out I wouldn't have to listen to your incessant nonsense, you cocky bastard."

"True enough." Victus chuckled and tucked his sword back into its scabbard, taking a moment to watch the others doing their own combat drills. They practiced in pairs and small groups, all under the watchful eyes of the legatus and his centurions. An earth pony came running up to the legatus at speed, stopping in a cloud of dust as he saluted and presented a scroll from his saddlebags.

"Wonder what's going on there," Nimbus said, motioning to the officers.

"No idea. Looks important, though."

"Hmm. Maybe they're reassigning you to latrine duty."

"Only in your dreams, my friend. And if you do have such dreams, do us both a favor and keep them to yourself."

"No promises."

The messenger saluted once more and headed for a tent while the officers talked in a large circle. Whatever they were talking about, they seemed highly animated about it.

"Something tells me this isn't good."

"Yeah..."

The legatus raised a hoof in the air and whistled loud enough to be heard over the noise of weapon training.

"Attention, legionaries! Cease your training and gather round immediately!"

Victus swore to himself. "Just once I'd like to be wrong about bad news."

The entirety of the 44th Legion was soon assembled, numbering nearly a thousand strong. They talked idly to each other and speculated, as soldiers are wont to do, but no one seemed to know for sure what was going on. The legatus stepped onto a small platform to better be seen by the masses.

"Everyone listen up! I have just received word from our scouts in Cloudsdale: Whitetail forces have attacked Witherfell en masse. Reports are mixed but the number varies from two thousand to twenty-five hundred deer, at least as far as we can tell." There was a murmur of shock and anger that only settled down when the legatus raised his hoof again. "At this time we aren't sure of how many civilians made it out, but what we do know is that the Equestrian Guard unit stationed in that area has been nearly wiped out."

"Why didn't we have more forces in the area?!" someone shouted.

"Because we weren't expecting the deer to push north-east. Our assumption was that they would push south-east, along the river White Shoals, but we underestimated the deer and their ability to traverse rough terrain. And you would be wise to watch your tongue, legionary."

Victus leaned in and spoke just above a whisper to his comrade.

"Witherfell? I've never heard of the place."

"Farming community, maybe four hundred ponies. We used to visit there when I was a colt."

"Close?"

"Thirty leagues, give or take. No more than four days' march from here. Less, if you don't stop for rest."

"Shit..."

The legatus looked over his scroll once more and motioned to the crowd.

"This is the first serious act of aggression by the Whitetail, and you can be sure it won't be the last. Attacking a village so close to a major outpost -- ours, if you're wondering -- is quite the bold act. The tree-rutting deer want our land, and by the Goddesses, we'll make them pay for every inch they take. That said, we will not be moving out immediately."

More commotion by the gathered legionaries, shouts calling for immediate revenge.

"Silence! You're soldiers, damnit, act like it!" Silence filled the outpost once more. "Good. Now, there is a good reason for our delay. I want to get out there and carve up those sons of whores as much as you do, but we are not ready. Not yet. The deerfolk are like no enemy we've faced before, and so your combat drills are going to be led by a new adviser."

A figure stepped out from the tent behind the legatus, altogether unfamiliar and foreign. It stood on four legs, but two of them were thin and bird-like. Its body was divided into two distinct halves, with the chest and head covered in a plumage of white, blue-tipped feathers and the beak of an eagle, and the waist and hind legs of a dark-brown lion. A long, thin tail swished the air behind it. The gathered soldiers let out a collective gasp.

"Allow me to introduce Battle-Master Gilias, of the Imperial Griffon Skyguard."

Nimbus prodded Victus with a hoof. "That's a griffon? I...I've never seen one before! Goddesses, look at it!"

"Battle-Master Gilias has flown in all the way from the Griffon Empire to be here today. She has first-hand experience with the deer and their fighting style."

"She?"

Someone in the crowd yelled out after the announcement.

"What do you mean, 'she'? You expect us to take orders from a damned woman?!"

Gilias was fast. Nearly as soon as the words had left the legionary's mouth she was in the air with a single, powerful flap of her wings. The griffon dove down through the rapidly parting crowd, knocking aside a pair of unicorns as she landed on the pony who had dared to question her, sending him sliding across the ground on his back. A sharp, curved blade was stuck against his throat before he could even react.

"If you wish to keep your innards within your body, Equestrian, then I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut." She pressed the blade into his neck just hard enough to draw a trickle of blood. "Do I make myself clear?" The legionary sheepishly let out a 'yes' and, just as fast as she had attacked, Gilias withdrew back to her spot beneath the platform.

Victus, along with the entirety of the 44th Legion, stood in stunned silence. Whoever this...griffon...was, she was damn good. The legatus spoke up once his newest adviser had resumed her position.

"I trust there will be no more outbursts? No? A wise decision. Battle-Master Gilias is here on unofficial terms; that is to say, she does not have the backing of the Griffon Empire or its military. Not as far as politics and formality is concerned, anyway. No, she is here as an adviser because of the simple fact that the griffons have decided to maintain an official stance of neutrality in this conflict. However, they know as well as we do that the loss of territory to the Whitetail military will only lead to reduced trade with Equestria, and a stronger deer presence along their southern borders. Thus, Battle-Master Gilias is only here to observe as a neutral party. And if she just so happens to be training, say, the 44th Legion in deer-crushing tactics, well...that's entirely under plausible deniability. But perhaps you'd do better to hear from the griffon herself."

Gilias stepped forward with a blade clutched in her claw-hand. If there was any doubts as to her legitimacy as a soldier, they'd already been shattered. She'd seen to that.

"Pay attention, because I'm only going to go over this once! As your commander said, I am Battle-Master Gilias, commanding officer of the Fourth Imperial Skyguard, Ker'rat Company. For the last twenty-two years I have served the Holy Emperor and all He surveys. I have fought in Cervedae, Saddle Arabia, Zevran, and the Great Expanse. If there is a sentient being out there, I have most likely fought and killed it."

She began to pace back and forth in front of the gathered ponies. Not one of them said a word.

"Your commander, Legatus Lentius, personally approached me and asked that I be of assistance in your rapidly-evolving war with the Whitetail. I accepted, on the condition that I be placed with the closest thing you ponies have to an elite fighting force. Thus, here I am." She sneered at the pony who had called her out. "Though if this is the level of discipline I can expect, this is going to be a very short war. I can only hope you prove me wrong."

She paused for a moment, looking out over the crowd.

"You may think you know the deer, but you have no idea. They are not like any enemy you have ever fought. Considering the last time you dirt-humping Equestrians faced a bigger threat than some scum-sucking bandits was several hundred years ago, you're going into this war completely unprepared. As the spearhead of the Equestrian military, it is up to you to make sure that those fucking antler-scraping deer don't run your asses into the ground."

A hoof stuck up from someone near Victus.

"What do you want, Equestrian?"

"Hasn't the Griffon Empire been at peace for just as long?"

Gilias actually smiled; it reminded Victus of a hydra about to devour its victim.

"You know what, Equestrian? I'm glad you asked that. Have we been at peace just like you ponies? If you believe everything you hear, sure. But conflicts are not always black-and-white. The Empire must maintain its place of power in the mountains, and any who threaten that power are dealt with. Harshly. Countless shadow wars have sprung up over the years, and yours truly has fought in most of them. You'll never read about them in history scrolls, but trust me: They're there. You just have to look."

The griffon stood up on her powerful, lion-like hind legs and drew a second curved blade from the opposite side of her body. As she did so, jagged, pink scars became visible across much of her chest and around her wings. She struck a menacing figure, easily twice as tall as the largest pony around, with strong muscles apparent throughout her body.

"So when I say I can teach you how to fight the deer, I damn-well fucking mean it. We're going to train hard. Damn hard. And by the end of the week, I guarantee each and every one of you will be a deer-slaughtering legionary motherfucker with a raging hard-on for Whitetail blood!"

She stopped and grinned with the same, predatory look on her face.

"That, or you'll be dead."

6 - Blood Upon the Ground

"Krosus!"

A booming voice sounded from the entrance to the Praetorian barracks, startling Tercio and making him drop his book on the ground as he scrambled to stand up from his bunk. He recognized the voice, and did not look forward to speaking with the owner of it.

"Yes, sir! Coming, sir!"

Clad in a simple tunic and sandals, he ran to the front of the room and saluted with a closed fist over his heart. Standing before him was the imposing figure of Imperator Stonewall, a hard-bitten old earth pony soldier with graying facial hair and a dark brown coat, dressed from muzzle to dock in golden armor. He struck Tercio as someone who was utterly committed to the military life, and despite Stonewall being -- so far -- an unerring hard-ass, he had to respect him for such.

It didn't make it any easier to report to him.

"Centurion Krosus reports, sir!"

"So it would seem." He pulled a scroll from a saddle bag, unfurling it and giving it a once-over. "Outstanding marks in personal combat training with shield and sword, as well as pilum and ballista use...fairly strong leadership skills, a good grasp of tactical awareness...I've seen worse. I've also seen better. Says here you were with the Royal Guard. How was that?"

"It was just fine, sir."

"Bullshit. The Royal Guard is boring as everyone knows it. Bunch of pansy-asses sitting on street corners and doing fuck-all, if you ask me."

"Uh, well I--"

"That wasn't a question."

"Yes, sir."

Stonewall stared at him for what felt like a long time.

"So...you're that strange-looking creature I've heard so much about. What the hell are you supposed to be, anyway? A hairless monkey who's learned to talk?"

"From what I understand, sir, I'm a 'human'. What that means, exactly, I'm not sure. I seem to be somewhat of an oddity."

"No shit. Just look at you. All those lanky limbs, no tail...do you have a destiny mark, at least?"

Tercio could just barely see the bottom of a magical image on the imperator's haunches -- some sort of tower shield.

"No, sir. I don't believe so."

"Well can you fly?"

"No wings, sir."

"Magic?"

"No, sir."

"Well what the fuck can you do, Krosus?"

Tercio struggled to find something to say. In a way, he considered himself to be closest to an earth pony, relying on strength and innovation over magic or flight. It would have to do.

"I can fight, sir."

Stonewall nodded at the answer with a grunt, apparently satisfied.

"Good enough, I say. Magic is a bunch of bullshit anyway. Real stallions don't need fancy tricks, just a blade and their own wits." He lifted a hoof and pointed to Tercio's chest. "Disrobe."

"...sir?"

"You heard me, Krosus. Disrobe."

"I'm not quite sure I--"

"That was an order, Centurion."

Realizing he was not going to win, Tercio unfastened the cloth belt of his tunic and stripped the garment from his body, dropping it on the floor beside him.

"I said disrobe. What part of that did you not understand?" Tercio was about to speak up when he was interrupted by a decidedly impatient Stonewall. "Your undergarments, Krosus, get rid of them!"

A few seconds later Tercio stood stark naked, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Ponies had always had no qualm about a lack of clothing, generally feeling just fine about trotting around in the buff, but they had a natural covering; Tercio just felt exposed and awkward. He counted his blessings that none of the other praetorians were around to see him like this.

"That's better," Stonewall said. He prodded Tercio with a hoof, jabbing at various parts of his body. "Good musculature in your limbs...torso seems to be in good shape, though your waist could use some tightening up...decently defined physique...strong legs, good for marches." The old imperator nodded decisively. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about you dying on me any time soon. At least, not from being a fat slob."

"Uh, thank you, sir."

"Mmhmm. Alright, Krosus, you can put your clothing back on if it bothers you that much."

He did so. Gladly.

"If you're going to join the ranks of the Praetorians there's a few ground rules you need to observe. I suggest you listen, for I am only going to say them once."

"Yes, sir, of course."

"Good. As you may have noticed, we're a little different from the rest of the Equestrian military here. Primarily, we don't address each other by rank, or call one another 'sir'."

"...oh. Uh, my apologies, I didn't know--"

"Excluding new meat like you, Krosus. We praetorians are utterly devoted to serving and protecting the princesses -- or rather, just Celestia now -- but if you want to be one of us then you have to earn it. It's a simple system, so even a dog like yourself should be able to understand it. It goes like this: If you see a praetorian with a purple cloak, like so," he raised his own with a hoof for emphasis, "that praetorian is 'sir' to you. Any other color? Well, that just means they're untested mud-suckers. Like you. Follow me so far?"

"Yes, sir."

He thought of his golden-yellow cloak, suddenly feeling less eager to wear it around.

"If you earn your purple cloak, then you may address your fellow praetorians by their names. Not until then. Feel free to speak with other useless pigs like yourself without the formalities, however, because you're both equally worthless."

The imperator began to pace back and forth, his armor quietly clanking as he walked.

"Life in the 105th is ever-changing. One moment we may be serving as Princess Celestia's personal bodyguard at a visit with the commoners, and the next we may be fighting off some asshole who's gotten it in his mind that he's going to be the instrument of revolution or some happy horse shit like that. Most likely, though, you will be standing in front of the throne room's doors for the whole day. And you'll be doing it a lot. That's why you're here -- so we can leave the real duties to those who have earned it."

"Sir, if I may ask..."

"What is it, meat?"

"Is there a general schedule we adhere to? In the Royal Guard we--"

"In the Royal Guard you were a glorified foal sitter. We don't have a real schedule, per se, but the day's key events are posted with as much forward notice as we can get. There are only a few, real constants: You will awaken just before the princess raises the sun, and you will go to bed before she begins to move the moon over the horizon. Sometimes you'll pull night duty. You will be on duty six days a week, with the seventh being open to...whatever it is your type does on your off days. I don't give a damn what you do with your free time, so long as you're ready by the next morning." He stopped pacing before adding, "and before you ask, meals will be mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and early night. I expect you to remember this, for I am not in the habit of repeating myself, and I become greatly displeased when I have to do so. Any questions?"

Tercio shook his head. "No, sir. I believe that's clear enough."

"Excellent. Maybe you're smarter than you look after all. The rest of the Praetorian Guard will be back soon, so I suggest you ready your equipment. If you've any questions they will most likely be able to answer them for you." Stonewall stood ramrod-straight and pressed a hoof over his chest. "Honor to the Princess."

"Honor to the Princess," Tercio repeated with the same gesture. He remained at attention as the Imperator returned to the hallway, only allowing himself to relax when he heard the hoofsteps fading. With a sigh he sat on the edge of his bunk, pulling his helm from the post near his equipment chest. Fourteen years in the military, and suddenly he felt like a no-rank recruit all over again.

"There must be something you can do, Elinwynn. The whitetail will listen to you, you're practically blood-related."

For the last half-hour, Princess Celestia had tried, and failed, to gain headway with the Empress of Cervidae. The leader of the deer hegemony had been infuriatingly calm, brushing off accusations of inaction as if they were annoying flies. Celestia wondered why she even bothered, but the thought of more ponies dying to whitetail blades pushed her to try.

"Celestia, my dear friend, it is as I've already said: The aggressive actions taken by the Equestrian military prior to this conflict do not speak to your usually docile nature. What were the whitetail to think of such a thing?"

"Docile?" Celestia stomped a hoof on the marble floor; she had begun to lose her temperament and practiced tone and, though she knew it, she found herself not caring as much as she would have otherwise thought. "That's the word you choose to describe my rule? Docile?"

Elinwynn laughed, a dismissive and infuriating gesture.

"You say that as if it were a bad thing. Most nations could only hope to have such a long history of peace. Such peace comes with a price, though. Obviously military strength is not your strong point, as evidenced by the forces of Whitetail itself pushing into your lands."

"If you're going to insult me, Elinwynn, then at least do so without cloaking it behind a veneer of civility. I grow tired of such games."

"I am no more insulting you than I am stating the obvious, my dear Princess. Please, control your outbursts." Elinwynn took a sip from her cup, levitating it back to the glass table as she finished. "Whitetail has never been the most stable nation, even at the best of times. Surely you can understand their perception of guards in your nation's armor slaughtering their civilians, then a pony assassinating their leader. All evidence pointed to Equestria, whether or not there is truth behind the rumors that you orchestrated such a thing."

"I do not appreciate such rumors, and I would ask you to keep such filth away from this room. Do you really think I would do such a thing? Do you think I am capable of such a thing?"

"In my experience, anyone is capable of anything given the right circumstances. That said...no, I do not believe you would attack Whitetail for no reason."

Celestia let out a deep breath. "That is the first sensible thing I've heard you say today."

"Regardless, the fact now stands that your nation is at war. Whitetail has no reason to back down, and indeed, they could use their current justification to push further outward, possibly even into Cervidaen territory. As such, I've placed the Imperial army on high alert. Simply a precaution, of course."

"I'm sure." Celestia walked to the large, hanging banner of Equestria's lands, looking upon it with the knowledge that she may very well lose if things took a turn for the worse. "What do the people of Cervidae think of this conflict? I imagine the majority of them will back their Whitetail cousins..."

"Most do, yes," Elinwynn answered, "but there are more ponies in Cervidae than you may think. Don't forget: Long before Whitetail existed as its own state, we were nations that shared a border. You may think us barbaric, Celestia, but that could be no further from the truth."

"Barbaric? That's utter nonsense and you know it."

Aside from the "indentured servants", state-sanctioned combat rings, execution of dissenting voices, and ruthlessness in combat, Celestia thought to herself. She'd never been one to back Cervidae's chosen government, but attempting to negotiate an alliance was better than potentially letting her own nation fall to Whitetail forces. She'd be damned if that would happen on her watch, though.

"Perhaps," Elinwynn shrugged, "but we're getting off topic. Let's just cut to the chase, shall we? You want military assistance from Cervidae. That's the real reason for your calling upon me, isn't it?"

Celestia cringed inwardly. She was not about to beg, but in such dire times she was not above swallowing her pride and asking for help.

"Yes. That's why I've asked you to speak with me. You can understand why. If you were in my position, would you not do the same?"

"I might. Then again, I might not. I honestly cannot say. What I can say, however, is much simpler to decide: No."

"No? That's it?"

"As I said, it was a simple decision. I cannot turn this conflict into our war as well as yours. Most of Cervidae is already standing behind the Whitetail as is. You should see the scrolls I receive on a daily basis, practically begging me to join Whitetail and go to war with Equestria. My people may be understanding and far more intelligent than the average, but when they look at the Whitetail they see themselves. The same cannot be said for their more...equine...cousins. I am sorry, Princess, but I cannot devote our military to a conflict that will be so uniformly unpopular."

Just as Celestia had feared. She knew it was a long shot, in every sense of the word, but she had to try. Still...she couldn't help but feel disappointed and somewhat betrayed. Cervidae was by no means close friends with Equestria's government, but at least back when Luna was around she could have been of no small degree of help.

Luna. She had a way with words that ran counter to everything Celestia practiced, and yet when the royal siblings focused on something it was all but assured that things would work out for the best. Now Celestia was on her own, and no amount of wishful thinking would bring her sister back.

"I'm greatly disappointed to hear such a thing, Empress, but I understand. All I ask is that you do what you can to convince the Whitetail senate that Equestria is not at fault for their horrific losses. I wish for nothing but peace."

"Of course. I shall convene with the senators as soon as I can, though I can make no great promises." Elinwynn bowed her head respectfully, or at least formally. "I wish you and Equestria only the best, Princess Celestia."

Three leagues outside of Vindfell, on the edges of Equestria's western border, a lone figure darted between the trees of the dense forest. He moved almost silently, a shadow in the early morning mists. His pursuers did not.

They shouted for him to stop, demanded he accept his fate, cursed him in their ugly, coarse language. There were five of them, moving at a full gallop to catch up to him. Slowly but surely they were catching up to him, and he knew that it wouldn't be long before more showed up. An insufferable flying pony had darted off as soon as they'd spotted him, no doubt to gather more of their incompetent, inferior number. He cursed their brutish kind and pressed himself against the trunk of a large pine tree, his breath heavy from exertion. They were getting closer. He would have to think quickly.

It wasn't long before the Equestrians had caught up to his position. They surrounded him, blades and shields drawn. They taunted and mocked him as he backed against the tree trunk, thinking him defeated and cowardly. His sharp mind prioritized the ponies -- highest rank standing to his right, with the others barely more than recruits. They were laughing and knocking him around the head with their hooves. He backed up further against the tree, waiting for an opening, a slightest moment's hesitation or distraction.

The leader, his head adorned with a red-crested helmet, demanded his surrender. Surrender, or death. The choice was easy. The tall buck lowered his head in defeat, letting one of the guards strip the helmet from his head. The Equestrian turned to look at his commander, and that was when the deer warrior struck. With a powerful stomp of his forelegs a pair of conical, incredibly sharp blades sprung out from the upper segments of his leg armor -- one on each side. They were half as long as a war blade and moved with the motion of his body, and before the guards could react he had pushed himself off of the thick tree trunk with a burst of power from his hind legs. The pony who had taken his helm was the first to fall, the twin blades of the deer's armor slicing into his neck and heart with practiced precision; the guard fell dead on the spot, bleeding from twin puncture wounds. A quick turn let the deer kick his hind legs out and buck the nearest guard hard in the jaw; he heard the bones break and felt the resistance of muscle give out. Even as his adversary fell to the ground and let out a gurgling scream, he was already on to the next target. A gladius was thrust out to meet him. He deflected it with an armored foreleg, using the momentary lapse in vision the earth pony would have after such an attack to knock the target's head to the side and thrust a blade through the side of his skull under the armored ear piece.

Everything had happened so fast, much faster than the shocked Equestrians could have possibly expected. Two of them now lie dead, another incapable of combat. That left a pony to either side of him. He expected the most senior officer to attack first, and he was prepared for it. The commander, and older stallion with a dark coat and mane, was no fool. He wasn't about to take long slashes with a mouth-held blade, leaving his neck exposed to counter-attack. No, he was something entirely different from the rest of his retinue -- a unicorn. Orange magic surrounded a circular shield and gladius.

"Leave the boy out of this," the old commander said. "Prove yourself to be whatever passes for a warrior with your kind and fight me." The deer said nothing, simply staring down the stallion. "Fight me, you gwil'lyyr!"

For a moment, the deer was amused at the insult, rough though it may have been from the pony's mouth. The old stallion was trying to provoke him, and had he been a lesser buck he may have been upset.

"Very well," the deer finally said. With a focusing of his mind he lifted a short sword from the body of his first victim, watching it tumble in front of him in a cloud of crackling, emerald energy. The stallion struck immediately, slashing his sword wide. The deer parried the blade with his own, simultaneously kicking out a foreleg. The unicorn's armor deflected the blow and its wearer countered with a stab that was aimed at the neck of his opponent. The failed attack was followed by a vicious bash from his shield against the armored deer, the force of the blow cracking crystalline armor and sending the deer sprawling. He skidded to a halt near the lifeless body of the guard he'd bucked in the jaw, picking himself up from the blood-soaked earth.

It only took a moment to regain his composure, and with the blade hovering in front of him again he felt sure of his abilities. The old unicorn was fast, and strong, but he was too confident in himself, too proud. Even as blow after blow rained down on the deer's armor he kept a steady eye on his enemy.

"You son..of a...fucking...whore!" A strike found a chink in the deer's armor, plunging deep into the shoulder. The deer grunted in pain, and with all of his might he rammed his antlers into the unicorn, sending him tumbling end over end.

"ENOUGH!"

A brilliant flash filled the area, bathing the forest in emerald-green light. The Equestrian commander, so strong and so sure, found himself paralyzed and completely unable to will his body to move. A cold sensation had invaded his mind, so cold it burned like a fire. He could only stare in confusion and anger as the deer limped over to him, his antlers glowing brightly.

"I tire of this game, Equestrian." The deer motioned to the gladius lying before him. "Grasp that blade between your hooves."

The unicorn was fighting it. He was fighting it hard. But he was never going to be strong enough. Trembling, he held the sword in front of him, balancing on his hind legs.

"Turn it over."

The sword slowly twisted so that its point was facing back. The old commander could tell what was coming, and he released a final, desperate burst of magic from his horn to free himself. The sparkling cloud of energy fizzled before the strength of the magic before it, disappearing into the aether. He had failed.

"Now plunge that blade into your throat and be done with it."

Slowly, ever so slowly, the commander's clasped hooves drove the weapon through his skin and muscle, his eyes going wide with pain and panic as it sliced through his neck with a spurt of dark crimson. He gurgled a wet scream that, for a short moment, turned the deer's stomach. The wet death rattle subsided over what felt like a long time, and the unicorn's eyes rolled back in his head. Finished with his adversary, the deer turned and faced the only surviving member of the patrol that had sworn to have his head -- the youngest guard, who was cowering on the ground in a puddle of his own piss and vomit.

"You. Boy." The deer said as he stepped closer, favoring the wound in his shoulder. The young guard could not speak, too terrified at what might happen to him. He whimpered at the imposing figure, its armor covered in blood. "What is your name?"

"...m-my name? Why?"

"Just answer the question, boy."

The young earth pony gulped.

"Co..Cobalt."

"Cobalt. Hmm." The deer turned his head skyward. "It will be full light soon. If you stay due east you will encounter a camp set up by your kind within a few hours." He looked back at the soldier. "When you arrive, tell the commanding officer that we await him on the edge of the Everfree forest. He will bring his forces, and he will engage us in combat, or we will slaughter every last stallion, mare and foal between here and Canterlot."

The deer turned and began to hobble away, his emerald armor glinting in the growing sunlight.

"Go. Or your brothers will have died in vain."

7 - Fal'naas

"I hope everyone's paying attention, because if your dumb ass dies in combat then I will personally pull you out of the after-life and strangle you for being an inattentive little shit!" Battle-Master Gilias said, standing before a row of three deer mock-ups. They were crudely constructed, a jumble of sticks and burlap arranged into the vague shapes of Equestria's most recent enemies, but they were good enough for the purposes of demonstration.

Yesterday, the 44th Legion had all but dismissed the sudden appearance of the griffon woman. Now, there was no joking or sneering. There was only the gathering of soldiers in full battle armor, and the sound of Gilias' voice carrying across the clearing.

"I'm not one for sugar-coating things, so let me say this to you straight: The deer will slaughter you if you fight them without knowing how they work. They may not look it, but the soldiers of Whitetail are not to be fucked with." She approached the first deer mock-up, a buck with tall, multi-pronged antlers. "Most of the soldiers you'll be facing in combat will be male -- bucks and stags, depending on their age, though it's kind of a grey area. And yes, I said 'most'. Whitetail allows females to serve in their military, albeit in small numbers, but they're mostly in separate units and you likely won't encounter them on the battlefield. We'll still cover that in detail, but for now we're focusing on this bad boy right here."

She knocked a fist against the training dummy, causing it to sway under the blow.

"If I can be honest with you pony-folk, I'm surprised you aren't a mixed-gender military force. You're usually all about the...touchy-feely rainbow shit, or something. Equality. That kinda thing. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. What is here is a buck made of sticks. Just use your imaginations."

Gilias drew a sword from her side, pointing to the top of the buck with the end of her blade.

"Your standard buck is half a head taller than the average stallion, excluding the antlers. They tend to be leaner and less stocky than a pony of equal size, but they're still deceptively strong. Stronger than a pegasus, but not as strong as an earth pony." The blade came back down, and she idly bounced it in her claw-hand. "This means that they are agile fighters, relying more on finesse than raw strength. You have to keep on your toes...hooves, whatever...in a one-on-one situation."

She jerked her head toward the training dummy.

"See those antlers? All deer have the ability to perform simple magic. When I say 'simple', that's just what I mean. Light levitation tends to be the extent of it, and it can take many years of practice before a buck can levitate something as simple as a sword. For the most part they will fight like more nimble earth ponies. Only the most talented of deer can perform feats of magic more advanced than floating a blade."

A foreleg went up in the crowd. Gilias pointed to it and asked what the question was.

"So if we don't have to worry about that fancy magic shit, and they're just twitchier earth ponies, what's the problem?"

Gilias simply smiled. "The problem, my dimwitted friend, is that the deer -- and especially the whitetail -- don't fight like ponies. What do you use in the legion for standard combat load-out?"

Legatus Lentius, standing in the front row, answered her.

"A gladius, tower shield and buckler, and one or more pila."

"So you fight with a sword and shield most of the time, right? That's pretty normal. So does the Griffon Empire, and Zevran, and Saddle Arabia. But not the whitetail."

Gilias stepped past the first mock-up and over to the second; it was fully adorned in a set of crystalline, glimmering armor that gave off a dull green shine in the light of mid-day. Its exterior had been marred by scrape marks and gouges.

"We managed to, uh, procure this armor from a fallen buck. Anyone have any observations about it?"

"It's shiny?" someone answered, and the others laughed.

"You must be the brains of the group, Equestrian. Yes, it's shiny. Now, any observations that don't border on mind-crushingly stupid?"

Another hoof went up. "It's more segmented than our armor."

"Well look at that, a real answer! There might be hope for you fuckers yet! Yes, Whitetail armor is made to be flexible yet strong, consisting of scale-like segments of a material they call quinndryll -- roughly translated, it means 'steel of the forest'. Think of it as a super-hard quartz. It may look like glass and feel like glass, but it's a tough son of a bitch to get through. It's also exceptionally light for how strong it is."

"We should get some of that," Victus told the stallion next to him.

"Don't go turning in your steel just yet, though. Just like the deer themselves, it's not without its weaknesses. Quinndryll may be strong but it's frail against crushing impacts, like those of a mace or battle axe. It can also be penetrated by a sufficiently strong projectile. Arrows will bounce off, but a ballista shot will still get through."

Lentius called for an orderly, though Victus could not hear what was being said. The orderly stayed for only a moment before darting off to the armory tent.

"There's one more thing you should know about this armor," Gilias continued, "and it's something that ties into the deer fighting style. As I said, many of the deer don't fight with a sword and shield. They rely on a complex triple-blade system, consisting of a long, narrow sword either grasped in the mouth or, occasionally, levitated...and this."

Gilias picked up the training dummy and slammed its forelegs into the ground, cracking and snapping many of the sticks that made up the body of the mock-up. No one noticed the sound, however, because they were all staring at the thin, sharp blades that had shot out from the upper foreleg armor. They whistled in surprise and murmured to each other, impressed by the unexpected weapons.

"This, my equine friends, is what makes the deer so dangerous. These conical daggers are spring-loaded in internal holsters. A solid stomp of the hooves and they shoot out at great speed and lock into place, providing the deer in question with two more avenues of attack. A well-trained deer warrior can make you focus on three things at once, using a flurry of blows to wear your defenses down and exploit any opening with a swift stab to the throat, chest, or head. It's exactly for this reason that we're not marching out into combat as we speak. You're completely unprepared to fight the whitetail. That's why I'm here." She jerked her head back to the tent. "We've gathered a good dozen sets of whitetail armor, so you're all going to take turns wearing them. For those of you with a larger build, you'll likely have to settle for just wearing the foreleg armor and spring-blades. I want all of you to get used to fighting against three weapons at once!"

The same orderly backed out of the tent as Gilias finished speaking, dragging a large sack of weapons and emerald armor along the ground. Legatus Lentius trotted over and inspected the weapons, nodding in approval.

"Listen up, 44th! In light of Battle-Master Gilias' advice, we are going to start distributing battle axes and war hammers! Their numbers are small in comparison to our stock of gladius blades, so for the time being only squad leaders will carry one! We only have a few short days to get proficient with them, so I expect you all to train your asses off! Understood?"

"Sir!" they answered as one.

"Good. That's what I like to hear." He lifted a hoof to the griffon adviser, who was covered from head to tail in brown and blue armor. "Battle-Master Gilias, you may resume."

"As you say." She stepped to the last training dummy, shorter and thinner than the others. Instead of a tall rack, this mock-up's antlers were short and curved back. "One last thing before we start combat drills. I said female deer -- does -- are different, and they are. And no, I don't mean they lack a cock, before one of you geniuses thinks it would be funny to say so. In comparison to magic-using ponies, specifically unicorns, deer do not follow the norm of 'larger horn or antlers means more powerful magic'. They're the complete opposite. Smaller antlers, specifically those of a doe, are much stronger at focusing magic than those of their showy male counterparts. Usually. Does lack the strength of bucks, and so they've become very adept at illusion magic to give them an edge in combat. They can make you see what is not there, they can make you hear things that don't exist. Some of these does are very powerful magic users. Fortunately for you sad, lonely bastards you won't have to worry about running across them in most situations. If you do, well...it's probably best to just fall back and fight with numbers on your side."

"That's not very encouraging," someone said in response.

"Well no fucking shit, it's not supposed to be. I'm just telling you like it is." She reached her arms across her body, pulling a long, curved sword from each side. "Now, it's time to put all of this long-winded horse shit to practice. You will split up into your assigned groups, and pick one of you to be the first to wear the deer armor. Don't worry, the blades are blunted so you don't hurt your pretty little hides. Remember, try to fight like a deer: thrusting attacks, multiple attack angles, quick strikes."

Gilias gave the gathered soldiers a wry smile and puffed out her chest, her studded leather and steel armor creaking.

"Do well enough, and you'll get to fight me. Anyone who can land a strike will get a small cask of amasec, compliments of the finest winery in Winter Rock."

She crossed her swords, then quickly drew them apart with a singing of steel on steel.

"I don't expect I'll be sharing much of it."

Tercio Krosus stood in the center of the Canterlot battle ring, sword and shield in hand. Before him stood three of his fellow recruits in full armor -- an earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn, each grasping or floating a gladius, with small buckler shields strapped to their upper forelegs. They were like him, new to the ranks of the Praetorians. Each of them were good, dedicated soldiers with long careers in the Equestrian Guard.

There was Polaris, a lightly colored unicorn with a shock of purple hair who had joined up as soon as he'd turned seventeen. He'd wanted nothing more than to serve alongside Princess Luna, but after her banishment he'd recommitted himself to Celestia.

Beside him was one of the few pegasi in Tercio's barracks, a younger stallion named Thunderburst. With his midnight blue coat and bright white mane and tail he stood out more than most. He'd made a name for himself -- or so he'd said -- fighting raider camps in the rough northern mountains of Equestria where a criminal group of pegasi had formed their own cloud city, hidden far away from prying eyes. He was by far the most aggressive recruit Tercio had met, and the young soldier was known through the Praetorian ranks as being deadly in combat, but hot-headed and prone to violence. For now he was on the ground, his wings spread out to make himself look larger and more imposing.

Lastly, standing to the far right, was the earth pony of the trio, a stallion with a stout build by the name of Rimeberry. Tercio hadn't had a chance to speak with him at length just yet, but he seemed like a relatively quiet pony in his late thirties.

"Krosus!" Imperator Stonewall shouted from his observation podium.

"Sir!"

"Are you ready to prove you're not entirely useless?"

"Absolutely, sir!"

"Good! Let's see how you do against multiple opponents. You may begin when ready."

Tercio was in a battle stance, with a tower shield over his left arm and a gladius in his right hand. He rocked on the soles of his feet in anticipation of the attack, his eyes darting between the trio of ponies in front of him.

"Come on, then," he said with an amused smile. "Who wants the first swing? Have a go if you think you're man enough!"

Thunderburst was the first to make a move, coming in with a fast swing to Tercio's midsection. He parried the strike and countered with a stab to the chest, but the pegasus was fast and sidestepped with another swing of his own. It deflected off Tercio's chest armor, leaving an opening just long enough for him to deliver a swift, powerful kick to Thunderburst's upper torso. The pegasus went sprawling in a cloud of dust and his sword clattered to the ground.

"Sloppy, Thunderburst," Tercio said as he reset himself into a brawling position. "I thought you were supposed to be a hard ass."

"I gave you that one," Thunderburst answered, pushing himself back to his hooves. "Next time I won't be so generous."

"As you say. Right, who's next for a boot to the face?"

"Suppose that'd be me," Rimeberry said, stepping forward with his sword clutched in his mouth. They stared each other down for a long second before Tercio struck out with his blade, missing a swing at neck level and blocking a follow-up from Rimeberry with his shield. A wild thrust answered the shield's motion and it just barely missed Tercio's thigh. He thought to bring his gladius down in a diagonal attack, but Rimebery was a step ahead and had already turned in place to deliver a strong kick of his hind legs. Tercio's shield took the brunt of the impact, but the earth pony was deceptively strong, and he tumbled onto his back. Thinking quickly he swept the ground at knee height with his sword, expecting Rimeberry to jump back to avoid the attack. He did, and Tercio was ready with a powerful bash from his shield that knocked the stallion's head straight back. A thrust of a blunted sword connected with flesh, and Rimeberry was forced to concede the fight to a death blow.

"Not bad, meat. Not bad at all!" Stonewall actually cracked a faint hint of a smile, but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared. "Polaris! Show this uppity monkey what we think of his fancy swordplay!"

Polaris stepped forward, sword and tower shield levitating before him.

"With pleasure, sir!"

"Uppity monkey?" Tercio asked quietly to his opponent.

"Compared to what he could have called you, you got off easy."

"Like I'll get off easy with you?"

"We'll see."

Polaris went for a different approach, playing defensively as Tercio's blows rained down on him. Hit after hit met his shield or was deflected by his own sword. A strong, downward swing from Tercio's shield smashed into the ground, missing the stallion by a hair's breadth, and Polaris countered with a swing that connected to Tercio's upper left arm, landing with enough force to dent the iron armor plate. As Tercio took a wide swing with his gladius, Polaris jumped back and levitated his weapon far to the side, letting Tercio's own momentum carry him through and leave an opening, and in the next second the unicorn's sword was behind Tercio's back, drawing his attention and forcing him to spin around. It was an unorthodox attack, and it gave Polaris time to draw a dagger from his sling and jab it up against Tercio's lower back.

"If you value your spine you might want to admit defeat," he said, breathing deeply from exertion.

"Alright, alright, I give. You win." Tercio rubbed his back as the dagger was withdrawn, laughing despite himself. "That was quite the trick. Never seen that one before."

"The advantages of having a horn," Polaris replied. "Well fought."

"Well fought."

Stonewall whistled loudly. "If you two are done sucking each other's cocks, I suggest you get back into your fighting stances! Nice move by the way, Polaris."

"Thank you, sir."

"Just don't get cocky. A trick like that works fine for one-on-one, but in a battlefield you'd be a fool to levitate your shield and sword so far from your body. Now...what do you say we step it up, Krosus? If you think you can handle it."

"I can handle whatever you need me to, sir!"

"So you say. In that case, you're going to fight all three of your fellow scumsuckers at once! I want to see aggression, you dogs! I want a rain of blows that will make this ugly son of a bitch beg for mercy!"

"This should be fun," Polaris said, cracking his neck as he set his shield and sword in front of him once more.

"Fighters, at the ready!" Stonewall shouted, raising a hoof in the air. Tercio took his stance, deciding who to go after first. Thunderburst was agile but lacked brute strength, Rimeberry was more than a match for Tercio's own strength but wasn't aggressive with his swings, and Polaris was--

"BEGIN!"

With a shout all three recruits charged forward, their weapons lashing out in a flurry of strikes. Tercio reacted to each swing, deflecting and blocking and parrying frantically. His heart raced as he tried to focus on each opponent without leaving himself open, his years of training instinctively kicking in and turning his movements into a well-practiced dance of sword and shield. Thunderburst took to the air and hovered at head height, forcing Tercio to keep yet another attack angle in mind. A string of impacts bashed against armor and helm, and he found a small opening that let him kick Rimeberry hard enough to knock him away, if only for a second or two. With the blows lessened for just a breath Tercio struck out with his gladius and thrust it into a gap inThunderburst's chest armor hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. The pegasus fell to the ground with a harsh exhale, coughing as he struggled to take in deep gulps of air.

A hard impact smashed against Tercio's left side, sending the tower shield flying out from his grasp. Polaris had taken the opportunity to slam the edge of his shield into his opponent, and with Tercio stagged by the blow he could feel victory just a moment away. Tercio reacted quickly, picking up Thunderburst's gladius from the sand of the sparring ring and continuing to give Polaris a hard fight with a string of strikes from his twin weapons. He started to feel confident in his assault, each swing striking home with strength and precision. Polaris may have had an edge in magic, but Tercio was strong, and he was fast, and he knew he could be far more agile than he was at that very moment. A new-found sense of martial awareness gradually came over him, and he could hear the others murmuring in surprise and cheering him on as his attacks became a veritable whirlwind of motion. And yet, Polaris still held his own. When his shield was lost he picked up the slack with his buckler and parried every blow Tercio threw at him.

"Come on, human!" he taunted between strikes. "How do you expect...to protect...the princess...fighting like that?!" Tercio had to step back as Polaris' swings became stronger, his opponent's horn glowing bright orange as it focused more and stronger magical energy. "Hit me, Tercio! Attack! Attack! What will the deer think of such a display?!" Now firmly on the offensive, Polaris began to taunt Tercio in deer-speak. "Fal'naas, Tercio! Fal'naas!" A sword strike was deflected, but Polaris followed with a kick to the stomach that nearly made Tercio double over.

"FAL'NAAS!"

Something stirred within Tercio at the shouted word. Something he couldn't explain. It was as if someone had lit a torch in a darkest night, guiding him with a brilliant beacon that pushed away the fog in his mind.

Clarity.

And with it came an intense, all-consuming anger. Hatred like he'd never felt before. It welled up in his chest like a bloated leech, black and terrible. His vision narrowed to focus only on his opponent, the flurry of blows being thrust at him of no consequence; Tercio knew he could block and parry the strikes without fail, and as he let a sword thrust smash into his chest armor he bit down on his lip hard enough to draw a stream of blood. He only needed a moment, the slightest hesitation...

"Tercio! What are you doing?! Attack me! Attack me right n--"

With a sudden rush of power Tercio struck out, bull-rushing his opponent with a terrible shout of blind rage. He tackled Polaris to the ground, landing on top of him. Polaris began to panic, landing powerful impacts from his buckler shield against Tercio's helmeted head, but to no avail. The sword he'd been levitating for combat stopped dead, clasped in Tercio's left hand hard enough to draw blood. At the same time, Tercio's right hand landed crushing blows from his closed fist.

Tercio's hands became cut and torn from slamming into steel edges and pounding into flesh and bone, but still he would not relent. Somewhere, far off in the distance he could not find within himself to care about, he heard shouting. Voices telling him to stop. The orange cloud of magic surrounding Polaris' weapon dissipated into nothing, and as the threat ceased to exist Tercio dropped the blade from his bloody hand, now using both fists to pound the unfortunate unicorn into a bloody mess.

Something slammed into the side of his head, but it didn't matter. Strong forelegs yanked at his body, but he could not care. He knew what his only purpose was, with absolute clarity. Grasping the training sword in both hands, he lifted it high above the battered pegasus, began to bring it down -- and then things went impossibly dark again. The fire that had guided him slipped from his vision, the uncertainty sunk back into his mind, and in a single, terrible moment he came to his senses.

And then his world went black.

Princess Celestia sat in her chambers, reading over reports from western Equestria. They were nothing but bad news: Another village attacked, another force too large for the local guards to handle, another list of missing and dead soldiers and civilians. A pounding headache had begun to build in her temples, and she lifted a hoof to rub them in the hopes of temporary relief.

"We're just not ready," she said quietly to no one in particular. She firmly believed in the fighting ability of the Equestrian Guard, but for the last several hundred years their biggest concern had been criminal gangs or cultists. She longed for the days when her parents ruled the land; they could have called upon the Crystal Empire to send help, but no one had heard from the Equestrian ally since the violent and horrific days of King Sombra's rule. The whole city seemed to have just...disappeared.

Disturbing reports of an ultimatum had made their way to her, and even at that moment she knew there was a large contingent of Guard and Legionary forces marching west to meet the deer in open warfare for the first time. If only she had more time. If only Luna were around...

A loud knock on her door grabbed her attention, and she quickly made herself presentable before answering. Standing before her was a dark-coated pegasus in battle armor, covered in dust and breathing heavily. He bowed his head in respect as Celestia looked upon him.

"Praetorian Thunderburst?"

"Please forgive the interruption, my Princess, but I bring urgent word from the Praetorians of barracks four."

You should not be surprised.

"What sort of news? Has something happened?"

"Two of our newest members have been injured, one seriously, in a sparring match. Their names are Polaris, a unicorn, and Tercio, a...human, I believe? Imperator Stonewall sent me to inform you. If you wish, I can provide you with more information."

She kept her expression neutral, but inside a nagging voice tugged at her.

You knew it might come to this.

"No, that's quite alright, thank you. May I accompany you to the injury ward?"

"Of course, Princess. You needn't ask my permission."

"Very well, then. Please, lead the way."

Celestia closed the doors behind her with a brief flash of magic, not bothering to put on her crown or breast collar. If something happened, if one of them died, she would feel the blame squarely on her shoulders, and no one would ever know but her. She hoped they were not seriously injured.

It was a short trip, just down a few hallways and out to a building at the edge of the palace grounds. The room was mostly empty, except for two beds occupied by strikingly different figures.

"Princess," Stonewall said with a nod of his head as she approached.

"I came as soon as I heard. What happened, Stonewall?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Stonewall motioned to the still form of a unicorn off to his right, the light rise and fall of its chest the only indication it was still alive. "Polaris was in a training fight with that strange-looking creature over there. They seemed to be each other's equal, but something happened after Decanus Polaris began to taunt Centurion Krosus. The...human...started to lash out like a stallion possessed. I don't know what got into him."

He is too dangerous, sister.

"I see. And how is Polaris doing?"

"I won't lie, he's in bad shape. He's missing several teeth, he has a broken cheek bone and fractured skull, and the flesh around his right eye has swelled so much that it's become a purple mass of blood and skin. The apothecary believes the swelling will go down and the bones will mend, but..."

"But?"

Stonewall sighed. "But Polaris is non-responsive to external stimuli. For all intents and purposes he's bed-ridden, and if he doesn't wake up within the next day or two then he will likely die of injuries." Stonewall pointed to Polaris' bed. "He may have internal injuries that not even the apothecary's magic can fix. It's too early to tell."

Celestia stood at the wounded unicorn's side, placing a hoof on his chest. His head was wrapped in bandages, sticky with blood. She wanted to weep for him, but she knew she could not.

"And what of Tercio?"

"He's passed out from exertion, or maybe from whatever it was that overcame him. He has some deep cuts on his hands and several bruises from where the others had tried to stop him, but that's really the extent of his injuries."

In sharp contrast to Polaris, the human one bed over seemed to sleep almost peacefully, a blanket wrapped around his body. Something had to have caused him to lash out, but she was at a loss for what it could be. Instead, she occupied her mind by speaking with Thunderburst.

"Praetorian, were you near Tercio when he...lost control, correct?"

"Yes, Princess," Thunderburst answered. "Myself and Rimeberry were alongside Polaris in a three-on-one sparring match. It was good training, up until the moment Tercio attacked Polaris without mercy." He kicked a hoof at the ground and swore to himself. "I knew we shouldn't have trusted someone so different. He's not even equine."

"I would ask that you not be so quick to jump to conclusions, Thunderburst. Something has happened here, and I intend to find out what that was so that it doesn't happen again."

His ears flattened in embarassment. "Yes, Princess, of course. My apologies..."

"It's alright. Now, what happened?"

"Rimeberry and I -- uh, I suppose I should mention Rimeberry is in the barracks -- were training intently. I have to give due credit to the human, he fights with far more talent than his form would suggest otherwise. He actually managed to take both of us down in short order, but Polaris was more of an equal match. They fought so hard that their strikes became a near blur of motion. Tercio had Polaris on the back hoof, but then Polaris found an opening and started pushing Tercio back. Perhaps he became overconfident, or perhaps he was just messing around, but during the engagement he started to yell at Tercio to attack him and be more aggressive. And that's when Tercio fell to insanity."

"Insanity? How so?"

"He took Polaris to the ground and started pounding away with his fists, ignoring any semblance of military form or discipline. Just blow after blow. I think we all realized it wasn't just part of the training anymore when Tercio's punches came up trailing blood. We had to knock him out with a shield to the side of the head, and even then it took several strikes. He was far too strong for us to simply pull him off Polaris."

Imperator Stonewall removed his steel and gold helm, letting his short, red-dyed mane fall to his neck.

"Princess, I know Centurion Krosus has all the makings of a fine Praetorian, but if this is the sort of thing we can expect from him, well...we're all sworn to protect you, and he is a potential threat."

"No, I understand," Celestia answered, turning her gaze from the wounded soldiers. "To tell you the truth, Stonewall, I'm not sure what to do with him at this point. I do not want to see him returned to the Royal Guard, or worse, removed from Equestrian service entirely if I don't have to. I, too, believe he has great potential. This is just an unexpected development, and I will need time to think on it."

"Of course, Princess. Whatever your decision, I stand ready to enforce it." Stonewall and Thunderburst saluted smartly as Celestia bowed to them.

"When the apothecary returns please tell him that I want to be notified as soon as either of them awaken."

"So it shall be done. And what of the other barracks? Word spreads fast amongst Praetorian ranks."

"I will not speak a word of it to them. They don't need to know."

"As you wish."

Celestia took her time returning to her chambers, stopping by the palace gardens to ease her mind. She already had so much to think about; the war, the needs and concerns of her citizens, and now Tercio. It was something she'd feared for many years, and now it threatened to overtake her like a tempest.

We warned you, dear sister.

Luna appeared in the corner of the garden, her appearance that of the days before she was banished, before she had turned to darkness.

"You are hardly one to lecture me, Luna."

A guard walked by in the distance, passing through the image of the co-ruler of Equestria. Her image shimmered and disappeared. Celestia turned and walked away, down the short corridors that led to her room. Luna appeared in a side hallway, leaning against the wall.

You knew exactly what he was. What he is. What he could be.

"And I chose compassion. Perhaps you should have tried it more often."

Compassion would have been to stick a blade through his heart the moment you saw him.

A pair of brightly-colored mares bowed to Celestia as she passed, and she smiled and carried on just as she'd done so many countless times before. Exhausted, she opened the door to her room and sank against the wall. Her mane and tail had begun to lose their sheen again. Luna had leaned in to whisper into her sister's ear.

Embrace it, Celestia. Stop your pitiful coddling of this creature before he hurts someone else.

"I will not entertain such ideas. I can save him. He deserves a chance at a good life."

She blinked, and the towering form of Nightmare Moon stood before her in glimmering armor.

Like you saved us?

Flashes of violence, death. Betrayal.

"I don't need to convince you of anything."

The image smiled with dagger-like teeth. Celestia shut her eyes tight and willed it all to stop.

Of course not. You need only to convince yourself...

When she opened her eyes Luna was gone once more. No, Celestia told herself, she was never there. She'd been banished for more than a month. And yet, as events compounded, Celestia had turned to the memory of her sister more and more often, seeking some sort of answer. A way to fix all of Equestria's problems and make everything return to how it should be.

Deep down, she knew it would not be so mercifully simple. With a deep breath she stepped out onto her balcony, focusing her mind on the comforting warmth of the sun, and slowly, and gently, set it on the path to dip below the distant mountain tops. In a few hours she would need to raise the moon in its place, but for now her tired mind could think only of sleep. If she was lucky, she would not dream of Luna or her twisted transformation. She could close her eyes and, for a fleeting moment, feel free of her burdens.

8 - To War

Tercio awoke with a splitting pain in his head, stripped to his undergarments in a dark and unfamiliar place. The ground was hard and cold to the touch. He sat up with a groan, feeling his vision swim as he struggled to focus in the dim light. He was in a small room, and the only light source was the glow of a torch far down the end of a hallway. He tried to stretch out his legs, only to find one of them shackled to the floor by a chain. He quickly realized he was in a prison cell.

"Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone there?"

No answer. He wracked his brain to try and remember how he'd gotten in his current situation, but he could see only flashes; mere glimpses of blood, steel, and dirt. There was the training circle, and a fight against Polaris and his battle brothers, and then...nothing.

"If anyone is out there, I could do with a drink of water!"

The sound of heavy door opening echoed down the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of hoof steps. The light approached with it, casting a harsh, orange tint. The form of a pony stopped in front of his cell, standing some distance from the bars of his door. Tercio shielded his eyes, waiting for them to adjust. When they did, he recognized the pony immediately.

"Imperator Stonewall! I am extremely relieved to see you. I wasn't sure if anyone was listening."

"Krosus," Stonewall said simply, nodding his head. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just threw myself down a flight of stairs. My head--" He touched a palm above his ears, only to be met by the rough graze of bandages. At the same time he noticed his hands almost completely wrapped, with spots of dark, dried blood throughout. "Sir, what happened to me? Why am I in a cell?"

"I don't know what happened, not entirely," Stonewall answered, setting his torch in a sconce behind him. "What I do know, however, is that you lost your damn mind out there."

"I don't understand..."

"Mmm. Maybe you don't, but you're in here as a precaution. The princess wanted to speak with you as soon as you were awake. Now that you are, I'm going to bring her here. I suggest keeping to the back of your cell when she arrives. Understood?"

Tercio nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. I'll be back soon. In the mean time, there is a bowl of water and some bread at the foot of your cot."

Stonewall left without another word, leaving only the uncomfortable darkness as Tercio's only companion. He found that he had just enough play in his ankle chain to lie on his bed or reach the chamber pot in the corner, and not much else...not that he had much else to begin with. He thought of it as being locked in a stone closet. The bread was slightly stale but the water was cold and wonderful, and as he quenched his thirst and dry throat he felt immense relief.

At some point he removed the bandages from his hands, finding them bloody, bruised, and cut. They didn't hurt, but rather throbbed with a numbness that made it hard to hold anything. He could only guess as to how they had become that way, and he tossed the used bandages to the side.

After what felt like a very long time the door swung open at the end of the hallway once more, this time with more than one set of hooves clopping on the rough stone. Imperator Stonewall approached Tercio's cell, and Tercio backed up against the far wall just as he'd been told. Stonewall nodded to his side, and Princess Celestia took her place just in front of him. In the dim light she still looked regal and beautiful to Tercio's eyes, but something about her was different. She looked...tired. Worn out. He wondered if it was merely the shadows playing tricks on him.

"Hello, Tercio," she said in the same familiar, comforting voice he'd so enjoyed listening to when he first met her.

"My Princess," he replied, putting a closed fist over his heart and bowing his head. "I am sorry you must see me under such bizarre circumstances."

"Those circumstances are what we're trying to figure out. How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," he said, raising his blood-caked hands.

Stonewall stepped closer. "Centurion Krosus, I'm going to make something very clear to you: You are in here because you assaulted a fellow Praetorian recruit."

Tercio's eyes went wide. "I did what? What do you mean? Who?"

"Decanus Polaris."

"No, no, that doesn't make any sense. I wasn't assaulting Polaris, I was sparring with him!"

Celestia intervened. "Why don't you tell us what you remember of the day's training?"

Tercio sat on the side of his cot, his head in his hands.

"We...we were training in the sparring circle, outside of the palace grounds. The imperator said it would be good practice, and it would teach us how to fight against multiple opponents. I was with recruits Rimeberry, Thunderburst, and Polaris. I remember defeating Rimeberry and Thunderburst in single combat, but losing to Polaris' magic skills. Then it became a three on one situation. I fought against them as hard as I could, and then..." He shook his head. "And then I don't remember anything past that. Next thing I know, I'm sitting in this cell." Tercio stood up and approached the door, clutching his bloodied hands over the metal bars in the window. "What happened to me?"

"From what we can understand," Stonewall said, "you lost control of your senses. You ceased sparring with Polaris and tackled him to the ground, then you began to hit him in the face as hard as you could with your fists. We tried to pull you off him, but had to resort to a crude impact to the head to render you unconscious."

That explained the injuries. "I don't remember any of it, I swear! Are you sure that's what happened?"

"As sure as I am that Polaris is now fighting for his very survival in the infirmary. You made a bloody mess of his face and upper skull. He'll be lucky to live, much less eat or talk normally again. The apothecary is doing his best to mend Polaris' injuries, but they're extensive."

A huge weight felt like it had suddenly been set firmly on Tercio's chest. Polaris was severely injured, and might die, all because of something he had no recollection of. His head pounded, but he had to try and remember the details, anything that might give him a clue to his situation.

"I...I remember sparring with Polaris. I had the upper hand, but he was a fierce opponent. He started to...to...mock me, I think, but I knew it was in jest. We were merely testing each other."

"Do you remember what he said?" Celestia asked.

"He wanted me to attack him...that's what he kept saying. 'Attack! Attack!' Just like that."

"Is that why you tackled him?"

"No, it couldn't have been. We were in the middle of intense combat, yes, but at no point did I ever feel angry. Certainly not angry enough to do such a horrible thing. That's it. That's all I remember."

"Have you ever had aggressive feelings like this in the past?"

"No more than any other soldier. I assure you, I am not a person who is prone to fits of anger. I never have been."

Celestia turned to Stonewall. "Given his service record makes no mention of any such previous incidents, I'm inclined to believe him. I do not believe Centurion Tercio to be a threat, either to himself or others."

"All due respect, Princess," Stonewall countered, "I find it hard to believe you can state such a thing when Polaris is fighting for his life in the infirmary. If you want proof of this human's capabilities, look no further than the unconscious form of his battle brother."

Tercio clasped his hands together. "Imperator, Princess, I beg of you: Speak to my brother, Victus. Speak to my old unit commanders, speak to my parents and life-long friends. They will all reassure you of the same things I have already told you."

"Be that as it may, Centurion Krosus, there is still the undeniable fact that you assaulted a fellow soldier. Would you suggest it is just, even right, to pretend such a thing never happened?"

He let out a deep sigh. "No. It would not be just."

"Then I believe we've nothing further to discuss."

"Please, just hear me out, sir. I do not want to spend this war rotting away in a cell. I want to do my part to protect the Princess and Equestria, I--"

"What you want is irrelevant, Krosus."

Celestia gave a Stonewall a firm look. "Please let him finish, Stonewall." She nodded to Tercio. "As you were saying?"

"As...as I was saying, I thought that perhaps, if you would allow it, my Princess, I could continue to serve with the Praetorians and earn my place while this war is still being fought. Once we have defeated the whitetail, then I would readily accept any punishment you and Imperator Stonewall see fit." He frowned and added, "I have not given the last fourteen years of my life to Equestria to sit in a prison during her time of greatest need."

Celestia was silent for a short time, a hoof to her chin as she pondered the situation she found herself in.

"You make a strong argument," she finally said. "I cannot speak for Imperator Stonewall, but I see no reason to deny such a request."

"If I agreed to such a thing," Stonewall retorted, "then there are some factors that must be considered. The most obvious is Decanus Polaris' survival. If he dies from his injuries, then you are no longer facing an assault charge -- you are looking at murder. I don't think I need to tell you how serious such a charge would be."

"No, sir."

"Supposing Polaris does survive, then it is up to him to bring charges against you. If he agrees, we will continue from this very position after the war has passed. If he declines any charges, however...well, then there is nothing further. You will not be brought before a tribunal." Stonewall shifted the purple cloak on his back off to one side. "I would suggest you speak with Polaris when, and if, he is conscious. I despise the courts and their long-winded nonsense. It would be best if they never got involved. That, however, is entirely up to him and you. Do something right for once and talk it out like stallions."

Stonewall began to leave, placing his helm back upon his head and yanking his red-dyed mane through the crest.

"Then...I am free to go? For now?" Tercio called to him.

"I suppose you are, Centurion. Muster is just before sunrise tomorrow. Do not be late!"

It took a moment for the Imperator's words to truly strike home. When they did, Tercio felt as if the weight on his chest had been lifted all at once. Tears welled up in his eyes and he sank down to the floor, laughing with relief.

"Oh thank the old gods! If I never see this cell again it shall be too soon!"

Celestia smiled at him and levitated a ring of keys from down the hallway, struggling with the lock for a moment before hearing it give with a loud 'clack'.

"I know Imperator Stonewall has quite the reputation as a stallion of, shall we say, exacting standards, but as you have seen he is not unfair." She waved Tercio near with a hoof, floating another, smaller key to the shackles at his feet. They rattled to the ground. "Please, there is no need to keep your distance. I do not believe you a threat, Tercio."

He scrambled to his feet, saluting smartly before approaching her. "I am forever in your debt, Princess Celestia. I hope the others do not view me as some sort of monster after what happened to Polaris..."

"I cannot speak for them, but I've seen you at work. I've seen how hard you train and how much you want to be the best soldier you can be. If you continue to show that same tenacity then I am sure the others will accept you."

Tercio stepped from his cell, a cool wind sweeping down the hall. He shivered, wishing he had more than just his undergarments.

"My apologies, Princess, but I find myself rather cold at the moment. I don't suppose you would have--"

"Your things? Indeed I do. You will find them with the jailer just outside of the entrance door. I sincerely apologize for putting you in such a situation to begin with, but Imperator Stonewall was insistent we take no chances."

"I understand," he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest for warmth. "Thank you again."

"It is my pleasure. I'm sure you've languished in the cold for far too long; I will leave you to pick up your things and rejoin your Praetorian brothers."

With a curt bow Celestia turned and began to head down the hallway.

"Princess?"

She stopped and faced around once more.

"Yes?"

"I've been meaning to ask...why come to my aid? I would imagine a situation like this is usually handled internally by the soldier's unit. Why come down here to speak with me?"

"Because outside of this city, outside of these walls, Equestria is burning. Every day I have to speak with the widows of fallen soldiers, or the children of murdered citizens. Our home -- my home -- has become a place of misery and hatred. Not too long ago, we prided ourselves on love and community. No one seems to remember that these days," she said, dropping her voice to a firm whisper, "but I do."

A chill wind blew through the forest, rustling leaves and shaking branches. Overhead, clouds sped across the sky and darkened the ground, bringing with them the cool, clean smell of rains yet to come. Somewhere in the vast expanse of the Whitetail Woods, a lone earth pony trudged through the dirt and fallen leaves, his hoofsteps heavy with the weight of his armor. There were no trails, no roads, only a set of very specific directions he kept tucked into his scabbard.

Someone had summoned him. A note, slipped under his door in the night, had said simply "I have use of your skills". On the back of the slip of parchment, numerous steps had been jotted down. And so he'd followed them, confident in his abilities.

After what seemed like a very long time he finally reached his destination, a lone stump in the middle of a thicket. It was surrounded by dead leaves and dried twigs, and they crunched and snapped under his weight as he approached the small pendant resting upon the remnant of the severed tree. A deer and a pony, forming a circle, like a constellation he vaguely remembered. Puzzled, he picked up the porcelain thing and studied it. It looked like a bit of curio one would find at a street merchant's cart, nothing particularly unique.

The pendant began to hum, responding to his touch. It vibrated, then shook, and fell back onto the stump. He stepped back and half drew his sword from its sheathe, watching with equal parts curiosity and caution as a great plume of thick, black smoke gushed from the pendant. For a moment it hung in the air, gently swirling despite the gusting winds. Then, all at once, it took shape -- tall, and lithe. A figure vaguely resembling a pony, but different. A thousand points of nearly imperceptible light, like stars on a dusty night, glittered through the figure's mane and tail. Its body ebbed and flowed with an unseen force, its face a featureless black mask.

"Hello, Lacertus," it finally said, its voice cold as a grave. A chill shot down the pony's spine, harsher than any bellowing storm. He kept himself composed, just as he'd always done.

"I take it you're the one who summoned me to this damnable place in the middle of nowhere."

"Yes, I am. Is that an issue?"

"That depends," he answered with a shrug. "What is it you want, exactly? I suggest you make it quick, my time is valuable."

"I'm sure." The smokey figure cocked its head at him. "Answer me this, Lacertus: How long have you been a sell-sword?"

"Three decades. Seventy-six contracts."

"And how many of those contracts were you able to complete successfully?"

"Seventy-six." He smirked and patted the hilt of his sword with a hoof. "Is there a point to this?"

The twisting black mass flared briefly. "Of course there is. And you would be wise to watch your tone, little earth pony."

Lacertus chuckled dismissively. "Little? If you think I'm little, you should--"

"Enough. There is no point to this bickering. I wish only a yes or a no from you, nothing more or less."

"And the question is...?"

"Will you kill who I send you after? Without fail?"

"I'll kill an entire town if you want me to, so long as you pay me."

"Good. That is very good." The dark figure smiled with shockingly bright teeth, sharp as blades and glinting otherworldly light. Lacertus felt the air pulled from his lungs, and in a singular moment he knew fear for the first time in many years.

"Who...who do you need dead? Keep in mind, my services are not cheap," he stated after regaining his confidence.

"There is only one target, Lacertus of Canterlot. A very valuable target. One that will make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams."

Green-blue eyes, sharp and thin like a dragon's, appeared on the thing's face. They affixed him with an unblinking gaze. "Princess Celestia."

Lacertus' eyes went wide for the briefest of moments.

"That's quite the kill. I may be good, but do you really expect me to take on an entire city's worth of guards?"

"Of course not. I have already arranged for a distraction. You need only take advantage of the commotion. Will that be a problem, earth pony?"

It wouldn't be easy. It would likely be incredibly difficult. But it would be the kill of a lifetime. The ultimate show of his prowess. He would be remembered for all of eternity as the one who butchered a goddess. It would be glorious.

"No," he said confidently, smiling with barely-contained glee, the joy of the hunt spreading over him once more. "That won't be a problem in the least."

Tercio was free once more. Though he had only been locked up for a few days, most of it in unconsciousness, it felt like so much longer. Yet even as he relaxed in the cool, comforting winds that swept through the cliff-side city, his heart was heavy with guilt and worry. A fellow recruit was in serious condition, and may die, all because of something beyond his control. No matter how many times he replayed the fight in his head, trying to pick out any little detail, he couldn't remember what had been the trigger for such an attack. Furthermore, he had no idea why it hadn't happened in the fourteen previous years of service he'd given to Equestria. Surely if it was a simple rise of anger it would have happened sooner, wouldn't it? There had to be something more, something he was missing.

He'd stopped by the infirmary, where the apothecary had gone over the extent of Polaris' wounds. It shook Tercio to his core to know he'd caused them. So far Polaris had not grown worse, but he had not grown better, either. He was in a state of perpetual unconsciousness; the apothecary described it as being alive but not fully living. Tercio didn't fully understand it, and it only served to frustrate him more.

When he finally returned to the Praetorian barracks he found his bunk just as he'd left it, with his gear still kept in the trunk at the foot of his bed. The only real change came from his fellow recruits. He hadn't heard anything from the full-fledged Praetorians down the hall, but the others in his area -- Rimeberry and Thunderburst -- were much quieter than he had previously seen them. Polaris' own bunk, across from his, had been kept tidy for his hopeful return.

The others didn't say much to him that night, keeping to themselves for the most part. It wasn't anger or resentment he felt directed at him when they gazed in his direction, but rather, caution. They were afraid of him, afraid that they might be the next to end up in the infirmary at his hands. He wanted to defend himself and tell them how he wasn't in control of his mind or body when it happened, but thought it best to simply say nothing for the time being. Likely, he would have to earn their trust once more -- not to mention Princess Celestia's, and that of his Imperator -- and he intended to do exactly that, no matter what it took.

"Come on, Equestrian, just give up. Isn't it enough to be beaten back-to-back?"

Victus stabbed his gladius into the soil and picked himself up off the ground, his armor stained with grass and dirt. Twice now he'd challenged Gilias to single combat, and twice he'd been defeated handily. So too, in fact, had every other challenger. Three continuous hours of combat, and the griffon hadn't lost a step. He liked to think he was a competent warrior, but Gilias seemed to be on a whole other level entirely.

"Not until I've taken your precious amasec, griffon."

"Still got some fight left in you, huh? I admire that." Gilias twirled her curved blades in her hands, clinking her talons against the sharpened steel. "Alright, let's make this interesting."

"What did you have in mind?" he asked wearily.

"How about this: If you win this fight, you can have all three casks. No questions asked."

"And if I lose?"

Gilias smiled wryly. "Then I get your helm."

He jerked back. "What? Why on Earth would you want my helm? It wouldn't even fit you."

"Call it a souvenier," she answered with a shrug. "Those gold inlays sure are nice..."

He stood in silence, unsure of whether or not to take the challenge. The others started to goad him on, shouting for him to defend the honor of the 44th Legion. Easy for them to do, they had nothing to lose.

"...fine. Winner take all." His battle brothers cheered. Gilias simply smirked at his answer.

"I see you found your balls after all. Gotta be honest, I didn't think you'd accept."

"I suppose I'm full of surprises," he said, getting back into a battle stance with his gladius clutched in his mouth.

"You'll need to pull out a few if you want a chance, Equestrian."

Just as the first blade was about to be thrust, a loud sound stole the encampment's attention. The gathered ponies turned to see what the interruption was, finding a pegasus making a circle around the area with a trumpeting horn in his mouth. It landed near Legatus Lentius, sharply saluting before dropping a scroll at his hooves. The legatus studied the parchment, his eyes narrowing at the unseen words. He said something to the pegasus messenger, and the pair went back and forth for a moment. Then, just as suddenly as he'd arrived, the messenger took to the air and was gone. The legionaries stood silent, waiting for their commander to say something. He took to the pedestal near his private tent, raising a hoof in the air.

"Everyone gather 'round and listen up!"

Gilias grumbled and stuck her swords back into their sheathes.

"We'll finish this later, Equestrian."

"I certainly hope so," Victus said.

Lentius clopped a hoof on the pedestal. "You all know me. I'm not one to mince words or sweeten them like honey. I will not waste your time, or my own. Thus, the message I bring to you is simple: Effective immediately, the 44th Legion is mobilized for war!" A surprised murmur rushed through the crowd before it was silenced by a wave of the legatus' foreleg. "Word has just reached me that a scout patrol from the 28th Legion was wiped out, save for one survivor who was let go to deliver a message. That message said that unless Equestrian forces meet the Whitetail in open combat outside of the Everfree forest, the deer will slaughter every living thing on their path to Canterlot. Stallion, mare, or foal."

Shouts of anger were his response, outrage at such a horrific ultimatum.

"And so, we will march out to face the enemy tomorrow morning!" Lentius raised his voice, holding his hooves high over his head. He knew that his soldiers looked to him for inspiration, and so he summoned the voice of his very heart and soul, that he might instill in them the confidence he could only hope he could give them in return.

"Take the night to prepare your equipment and load your sacks with provisions! Sharpen your blades and clean your armor to a mirror shine, so that the light of Celestia's sun may blind the motherless deer! For tomorrow the 44th will fight, and we will kill, and by the gods old and new we will visit upon our enemies such terrible wrath that their entire species will wish it had never heard the name of Equestria!"

9 - The Coming Storm

"You know, when I found out I was being transferred to the Praetorians, I never thought I would be spending my days planting flowers," Tercio grumbled with a handful of small, pink flowers. For the last four hours he and the other recruits had painstakingly dug out neat little holes, stuck a flower in each one, and filled the hole up. Over and over.

"I mean, we're supposed to be the elite of Equestrian military might, and here we are, breaking our backs, hunched over planting boxes. Where does this factor into defending the princess, exactly?"

"The only thing you're defending is the privilege of a hot meal, Krosus." Imperator Stonewall paced back and forth behind the recruits from Barracks 4 and Barracks 2, as if planting decorative flowers was of the utmost importance. "And if you keep bitching, you're likely to lose that privilege."

To Tercio's immediate right, the tall, strong form of Rimeberry continued his duties without complaint.

"I don't mind it," he said, alternating purple and white rows. "Reminds me of happier times."

"If your happier times involved sticking flowers in the ground all day, I'd hate to know what you consider to be hard work, my friend."

Rimeberry smiled lightly to himself. "I used to do this for fun, back in the day. It was a break from farm work."

Tercio stopped momentarily. "You worked on a farm?"

"I did." The big earth pony took a long drink from his flask, letting out a satisfied exhale. "Grew up on one. Folks owned a vineyard up in the north of Equestria, near the Griffon border. Made a nice little living making ice wine."

"Ice wine?"

"Yep. When the winter freeze rolls around, and everything is at just the right temperature, the sugars in the grapes become more concentrated. Makes a sweeter wine. It's hard work, getting a decent amount of it, but it always sold well. Gave my mother and father enough income to last us the year."

"Huh. Well I guess that explains the name. Now I don't have to ask," Tercio quipped.

"I suppose you don't." He worked in silence for a time before speaking up once more. "What about you, Tercio? Any soil running through your veins?"

"There is, in fact."

"Oh?"

"My adoptive mother and father are fifth-generation farmers. Wheat and carrots, mostly. I spent many a year helping them with the planting and harvesting. It's never really been my forte, however. That's why I signed up with the Equestrian military as soon as I was able. Being a soldier suits me far better than, oh, planting flowers."

"And yet here you are," Rimeberry said with a small chuckle.

"So it would seem."

Across from Tercio's spot in line, Thunderburst was having more trouble than either of his compatriots. He swore to himself as a bundle of purple-speckled flowers tumbled from his grasp. "Gods above! This is beneath me. I am a pegasus, not a mud pony! I should be soaring through the sky with a spear at my side, not rummaging through dirt."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say 'mud pony' in my presence," Rimeberry said without looking up.

Thunderburst grumbled. "I'm just tired of these meaningless tasks. Shouldn't we be sparring right now?"

"Patience, Thunderburst." Rimeberry held up a flower between his hooves, looking at it in the fading glow of the increasingly cloudy sky. "It's like being a recruit again. You just have to bide your time and do as they say."

"Patience nothing!" Thunderburst stood up, tossing the flowers to the ground. "Fully half of Equestria's military might is marching on Everfree as we speak! Why are we not joining them?!"

"Hey, come on," Tercio said, "I would rather be fighting, too, but there's no need to lose your temper over it."

"You're one to lecture me about temper, human! One of us has beaten a fellow soldier into a state of living death. I do not know how you sleep at night."

Stonewall came marching over, stepping up to the mouthy pegasus.

"Is there a problem, Thunderburst?"

"Sir, I only want to fight the whitetail. Why are we digging holes for flowers?"

"Because sometimes that's what you have to do, whether you like it or not. Need I remind you that you are an aspiring praetorian? You have not earned the right to guard a chamber pot, much less the princess!"

"But--"

"Not a word, recruit. Do you hear me? If you wish to support the soldiers marching to face the deer, then I suggest you offer your prayers, because you will not be offering your blade. Not yet." Stonewall raised his voice to be heard over the dozen recruits culled from the Equestrian Guard and Royal Guard. "That goes for all of you! If blood is what you seek, then rest assured that there will be a river of it soon enough! Whether it is yours, or the enemy's, is to be seen. Until then, you should consider yourselves lucky to be blessed with Princess Celestia's royal garden! Now get back to work!"

Tercio waited until the imperator was out of ear shot.

"Look, Thunderburst, I already told you I had no control over what happened to Polaris. I'm hoping for his recovery just as much as you are."

"I'm sure. What do you care, human? Likely he is just another pony to you. I'm surprised you can even tell us apart."

With a grunt of frustration Tercio looked Thunderburst in the eye. "I care not if you think ill of me, Thunderburst. I am too busy worrying for the well-being of my brother in the 44th Legion to bother with whether or not you despise me."

"Your brother? So there's more than one of you?"

"No. He's a pegasus, like you, only he proves his worth through actions, not empty words."

Sensing a brawl coming in the not too distant future, Rimeberry stepped in to try and calm the situation.

"So you're a praetorian, and your brother is a legionary. Your parents must be proud."

"I would like to think so," Tercio said, pulling his gaze away from Thunderburst. "They took me in when they had no obligation to, and for that I am eternally grateful."

"They sound like good folks."

"They are, though they must be worried sick right about now. Can't say I blame them. News of the coming battle has surely spread throughout most of Equestria at this point."

"And your brother, do you worry for him?"

Tercio nodded. "Of course. I worry for him every day. But the Legion is not for the weak of mind or body, and I know he is more than capable of defending himself. I'd argue he's a better fighter than I am."

"That's not much of a boast," Thunderburst mumbled.

"I'm a better fighter than you, pegasus, or have you already forgotten the last time we sparred? Spare me your barbs, I grow weary of them already." Thunderburst shot him a look full of daggers, but said nothing more. "I'm sorry, Rimeberry. I simply do not have patience for those who would insult another's blood."

"I understand," the other said.

Tercio pulled a cloth from a belt pouch, wiping the sweat from his brow and forehead. Even with the coming shade planting was hard work. Far above, large, grey clouds were slowly overtaking the sun. Somewhere, he thought, Victus was looking up at the same sky. A horrible thought tugged at his mind and refused to let go -- it might be the last sky Victus ever saw.

Tercio gave a silent prayer to the old gods.

"Be safe, brother."

Libertus and his followers bowed on their knees as the image of their queen formed from the pendant laid upon her altar. The old tent, once used to hide her from the outside world, was now gone. In its place, there was only the open air of Whitetail Wood. They'd all gathered here, his comrades, his brothers and sisters in eternal service, to follow one last order. He knew not their exact number, only that hundreds of true believers had come from every corner of Equestria. Word of the untold glory and eternal life awaiting them had even attracted members of other species, for they were all equal in the eyes of Nightmare Moon. In return, she asked only for their devotion.

"My Queen," Libertus said as the fully-formed visage stood before him, its shape swirling and billowing with an unseen wind. "We have gathered as you asked. Our numbers are legion."

"Rise, my servants," the dark figure said, "and know that you are loved." A murmur of pure joy spread through the masses. "I trust none of you were followed?"

"A few, my Queen, but those who dared to impede upon our ceremony have been dealt with in a manner befitting the torment awaiting them in the afterlife. You will find only loyalists amongst us."

"Very good, Libertus. Tell me: Do the armies of Equestria still march toward Everfree? Do the deerfolk still intend to wage war to the last?"

"Yes. There is no stopping the conflict, just as you had foreseen."

"Then it is time." The black mass studied the crowd with predatory eyes. "Events have been set in motion that will alter the course of history forever. Tomorrow, all of you -- pony, zebra, and griffon alike -- will tip the balance of power away from the corrupt, stagnant rule of Princess Celestia and her blind lackeys. You...will change everything."

Libertus felt a rush of exhilaration, a sense of pride like he had never felt before. Clad in his blood-stained armor, he bowed before his ruler once more.

"We will do anything you ask, Queen Nightmare Moon! Command us!"

The gathered warriors and fanatics shouted, pleaded for a task.

The dark figure raised a foreleg, and all was silent once more.

"A dark day awaits Equestria. Her streets will run red with the blood of her soldiers, slain by the deer, and you...you will be my instruments of my will. Tomorrow, you will march on Canterlot!" The crowd gasped in surprise and delight.

"You will storm the very walls of the diseased heart of Equestria's rule, and you will lay waste to every living thing within in confines, that a new world may be reborn from its ashes!"

Libertus led the crowd in a mighty cheer, their blades raised in the air.

"I will give you eternal life, my followers," the figure said. "I will give you power beyond power, and we will rejoice in unending pleasure and feast til our bellies are full in the Great Beyond! And in return...I ask only for your mortal lives."

Libertus looked up at his queen, tears streaming from his eyes, and in that moment he knew that he had chosen right when the whole world had told him he was wrong.

"Now go. Leave behind no traces of this site. And when you reach Canterlot, let all who stand before you know the wrath of Nightmare Moon."

Many miles away, on the edge of the Everfree forest, a gathering storm mirrored the scene far below -- the largest mobilization of Equestrian forces in two hundred years. Thousands of soldiers from all arms of the mighty nation's military steadily formed themselves into squads, squads into centuries, centuries into cohorts. As far as the eye could see, vast numbers of steel and iron-clad warriors stood at the ready. Skirmish stallions, archers, air assault units, shield carriers. Ballistae and catapults. Endless fields of upright spears and sheathed swords. There was no longer a distinction between Equestrian Guard, Royal Guard, or Legion. United under the banner of their home land, they were all simply soldiers.

In the distance behind them, a massive tent city had been erected to feed and supply the bulk of Equestria's military. Now it was empty, nothing but the smoldering ashes of extinguished campfires and empty canvas.

Amongst the gathered numbers, Decanus Victus stood with his squad. They were but a small part of the endless formations, but he stood by his stallions like they were his own flesh and blood. Some were new to the Legion -- Steel Spark, Vincarius, Sertis, and Rockfall -- while others had served alongside him for years. His old compatriot and childhood friend, Chiron, stood at his side, the left-most of the squad. Smaller in stature than Victus, he none the less had proven himself as an able soldier in the Legion. He craned his neck to see above the crested helms that surrounded him, giving up with a sigh of annoyance.

"Is something the matter, Chiron?" Victus asked as he gave a final inspection to each of his stallions, tightening straps and testing their armor for proper fittings.

"Yes," Chiron said, "I'm damned terrified, that's what."

Some of the others echoed his sentiment.

"You've never been one to mince words, old friend," Victus chuckled.

"Are you not afraid as well? Look at all of this!" He motioned with a hoof to the sea of stallions. "Never before have I seen such a show of force! Half of Equestria must be out here."

"Then you should take comfort in our strength. If the deer want a fight, then they're going to get one."

Some of the more veteran members of the squad laughed in approval.

"Of that I've no doubt. I do believe we have the training and skill necessary, but still...an actual battle. I do not understand how you can be so calm."

Victus stepped back from his squad, standing before them with his spear at his side.

"Shall I let you all in on a secret? Yes? Very well." Victus removed his galea, revealing his short-cropped, amber mane. His white coat stood out in sharp contrast to the metallic armor and red Legion cloak that adorned his body. "Truth be told, I am just as scared as any of you. Perhaps more so. I worry not for my own life, but for yours. You are, all of you, my brothers, and I care for you as such."

A cool wind blew through the clearing, bringing with it the promise of rain. Distant thunder rolled across the heavens and warned of impending storms.

"Know this, legionaries: No matter what the deer may throw at us, I will not falter. I will not leave you. We will fight as one, and we will kill as one, and if it comes to it, then we will die as one. On this, you have my very word as a stallion."

Behind his squad, behind the many others that made up just a single century, there came an echoing of voices, orders passed down from officer to officer. The nearest centurion relayed the message: The deer had arrived.

"They're here," Victus said quietly to his squad. Immediately he could feel his pulse quicken. Another shouted order. "Squad! Formation stance! Spears up!"

As one they snapped to attention, standing as straight and tall as their weapons. The sound of countless ponies, all carrying out the same order, echoed through the coming battlefield. It was awe-inspiring, a sound he knew he'd never forget. Then, for the first time since they'd arrived, it was completely silent.

General Phalanx stood atop the low hill overlooking his army. It was a breathtaking sight, a veritable sea of the finest soldiers Equestria had to offer. Clad in golden armor, with a white crest upon his helm, he looked every bit the leader he hoped he could be. A shimmering cloak of magically-infused white silk bellowed behind him in the gusting winds, shimmering with the radiant light of Celestia's sun. He closed his eyes and took in a deep, wonderful breath of rain-scented air. For the briefest of moments he was a colt again, running through the shallow stream behind his home. No war upon him, no lives to be lost under his command.

"The stallions are ready, General."

He opened his eyes, and once more he was focused solely on the task before him.

"So they are."

His most trusted imperators stood to either flank, along with an unexpected visitor from the 44th Legion -- a griffon named Gilias. Legatus Lentius had spoken highly of her skill, and she seemed eager to join the fight. He could not very well turn down another blade.

"You are free to leave, should you so feel the need," Phalanx told the Battle-Master from a distant land.

"And miss the fun? Not on your life, Equestrian," Gilias answered with a confident grin.

"Very well, then."

Ahead in the wooded distance an unfamiliar horn sounded, loud and deep. Many others joined it, lighter and sharper. The whitetail were approaching.

"Let me ask you something, griffon."

"Yes?"

"You've fought the deer. Do you truly believe we can win this war?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "I have yet to see your forces in action. If we survive this battle, ask me then."

The horns stopped, and the rumbling began. Countless deer marching in formation, unseen yet very much heard. Their deertongue call-and-response commands echoed through the thick forest that obscured their movements.

"FYYL NA'AL KRAHS!"

"HWAH!"

"GAHL D'WIN!"

"HWAH!"

At once they appeared from the edge of the forest, marching in long columns as they stepped into the clearing. With military precision they split into rectangular sections, hundreds of deer per formation. Polished, glass-like armor shone green in the fading light of overcast skies. For ten minutes they streamed from the forest, their numbers beyond counting. With a final, shouted order the deer were in place. Their lines stretched as wide and far as the Equestrians that stood not even two hundred yards away.

General Phalanx looked out over the massed deer, and for the first time he was unsure of his own victory.

"Right. Axebite, Shatter-Shield, you're with me. Keep your weapons holstered, and that's an order."

His imperators answered immediately, placing their helms upon their heads and hoisting the banners of Equestria upon their backs, held up high on saddle-mounted poles.

"What about me?" Gilias asked.

"You will stay here. This is a matter between myself and the Whitetail general."

"You won't be saying that when I start slaughtering the deer."

"It is a matter of formality, Battle-Master. Do not concern yourself with such things, I am sure you have already been noticed."

"Good, I hate being last to fight."

The impending battlefield was disconcertingly quiet. There was only the sound of wind whipping through the clearing, rustling banners and shaking spears, and the rolling sound of nearing thunder. With a final, deep breath the general marched out to the empty space between the two great armies. A tall, well-built stag with graying spots came out to meet him, flanked by two of Whitetail's finest warriors. Floating beside them were long, narrow flags of green and white, triangular in shape, with split ends that flapped in the wind.

For a long moment neither side said a word. The old veterans simply looked each other over, a wordless, martial respect their only common ground.

"Brother-General Felnaris," Phalanx finally said, tipping his head to the other.

"General Phalanx," Felnaris replied in heavily-accented Equestrian Common, returning the slight nod. "We meet at last."

"So it would seem." Phalanx looked out over his gathered army, then the army of his rival. He saw only countless lives that would soon be lost. "I realize this is likely a futile gesture, but perhaps we do not have to fight."

The leader of Whitetail's military, clad in gold-flecked armor, smiled lightly at the thought.

"Indeed we do not, Equestrian. All we ask is your full surrender, and the abolishment of Princess Celestia from the throne."

"You know as well as I do that such a thing will not happen."

"Then we have nothing further to discuss."

"Listen to me," Phalanx bit back, taking a step closer. "This entire campaign is based on a lie! It was not us who destroyed River Run, nor ended the life of your chancellor. Please, turn back. Tell your Senate that we seek only time to discover who is at fault for such crimes. Then, when the traitorous scum are discovered, we can wipe them out together."

"And give your armies time to build up further? General, I do not believe you know so much about warfare as you claim." Felnaris gestured to his forces. "Come what may, the fates have already decided for us. I speak with you out of respect for your past accomplishments, not out of fear. Or hatred. I am simply an old soldier. As are you. I care not why I am told to fight, only that I am."

"Heh. A couple of damned, old soldiers. Isn't that the gods' honest truth?"

"Some things do not change." Felnaris bowed to an unseen soldier. "If you could, please pass on a message to Battle-Master Gilias. Tell her Brother-General Felnaris wishes her a long life."

"As you wish."

Phalanx looked up at the gathering clouds, feeling the first drops of scattered rain fall over his face. Despite all signs to the contrary, he had still fostered some small hope of resolving the meeting of forces without bloodshed. Now that hope was gone, and in its place was a slowly rising sense of determination. If he had to fight, then he would fight to his utmost. His stallions depended on it. If they fell, Equestria would be forced to fight with greatly reduced numbers.

"Very well," he said firmly. "If such a thing cannot be avoided, then we will fight. In the event of defeat for either of us, I ask only that our respective soldiers are treated fairly. No prisoner will come to harm under the flag of surrender. On this, I give you my word."

"And I, mine."

Without a further word, the two leaders turned and marched back to their lines. His soldiers saluted him once more as he passed. Finally, with his position overlooking the battlefield secured, he relieved his guarding imperators back to their formations.

"Brother-General Felnaris wishes you a long life," he said to Gilias as she stood at his side once more. "I take it you two know each other?"

"You could say that. We fought in a battle nearly two decades ago. He is tougher than he looks. But then," she added with an air of resolve, "so am I."

"Let us hope so."

Neither army made a move, and in the long, passing minutes light showers of rain turned into a steady downpour that clattered off steel and crystalline armor, the sound echoing through the clearing. General Phalanx bowed his head, offering a prayer for his stallions.

"May the gods old and new watch over and guide us."

And then he was at war.

"HASTATIIIII!"

His commanders echoed his orders through the ranks.

"AT THE READY!"

Down the entire front line, stallions of the first four ranks joined shields in a great, impenetrable wall of wood and iron, spears tucked into their forelegs. Glistening weapon tips dripped with rain water as they jutted from gaps, forming a long line of assured death for any who would dare to attack. There they remained, motionless, waiting.

"DA'EN'KRAS, FILINYYN!"

Across the way, thousands of deer answered as one. Small, crystalline buckler shields were raised to neck-level, and together unfolded once, twice, three times as segments dropped from the main circle and latched together. In a matter of moments, they had grown more than twice their original size.

"ARO'WIN!"

"HWAH!"

A thousand deer raised up and stomped their forelegs into the ground.

"ARO'WIN!"

"HWAH!"

"ARO'WIN!"

"HWAH!!"

With a final shout the deer slammed their hooves down. A deafening cacophony filled the air as thousands of armor-mounted conical blades shot out and locked into place.

General Phalanx looked over his soldiers one, last time. He knew only a fraction of them by name, but he knew he would feel the deaths of each and every one. Later he would mourn them. For now, he would be their general, and he would fight and kill with them, and by his leadership his home would be safe once again.

"EQUESTRIANS!" He donned his helm and unsheathed his sword, shouting above the din of falling rain.

"PREPARE TO DEFEND YOURSELVES!"

10 - Id

Frantic footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, down the barracks wing and out to the Praetorian common area. A senior officer passed by, and Tercio threw up a quick salute before rushing past him at a nearly full run. He had no time for pleasantries or formality. He cared only about reaching the infirmary. Not even a minute prior, a messenger stallion had brought word to his barracks -- Polaris was awake. It mattered not that it was half way through the night, it was news Tercio had been awaiting for what felt like an age.

The common area gave way to the central palace grounds, then the royal garden, before he finally reached the small cluster of buildings denoting the medicae quarters. He allowed himself a few seconds to catch his breath before entering the building, finding the apothecary looking over a stack of scrolls under the light of a row of candles.

"Bed fourteen, left side," the pony said after quick glance.

Most of the bunks were empty, with only a few soldiers scattered here or there with illness or injuries. The place smelled of medicinal salves and old bandages. Down near the end of the outer-most row, the unmistakable form of a unicorn lay with its mostly-wrapped head propped up on a small stack of cushions, its ivory-colored coat flecked and spotted with dried blood.

Slowly, cautiously, Tercio approached and took a knee.

"Polaris, can you hear me? It's Tercio."

There was no response for some time. Then, a groan.

"Tercio...?"

"Yes. I received word you were awake."

"So it would seem."

Tercio was suddenly overtaken with relief, sitting on the ground with his head in his hands.

"Your well-being has been at the forefront of my mind for many days. I was afraid you might die." He lifted a flask of water from beside the bed, holding it up beside his wounded comrade. "Are you thirsty? I could give you some water."

"Not...right now..." Polaris answered, weakly lifting a foreleg to push the flask away. His words came out slurred and what little of his face was uncovered was bruised and swollen.

"Very well. How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

"I...I feel as if I've been tossed down a mountain." Polaris' voice was raspy and he frequently had to stop to wince at some unknown pain. "But I'm...alive...at least."

"No thanks to me," Tercio said, not able to look Polaris in the eyes.

It was silent for a few long, uncomfortable seconds.

"Do you remember what happened, Polaris?"

"Yes...we were sparring. You had the advantage, but I...pushed back. And I...I started to taunt you. I can remember it clearly. Perhaps I shouldn't have--"

"I know it was all in jest, my friend," Tercio interrupted. "Believe me, it would take more than competitive banter for me to do this to you."

"And yet, here we are. Or, here I am..."

Tercio was unsure of what to say. He had tried to figure out his exact words for many days now, but nothing ever truly sounded like it could make up for what he had done. Perhaps nothing could.

"I'm sorry. For all of this. I don't know what happened, but I lost control of myself. You must believe me when I say that I became someone else. Even now, all I can remember are flashes, glimpses of violence. As if I were possessed."

"You...certainly fought like it." Polaris slowly turned his head to look at Tercio. "I have served...for...nngh...ten years of my life. And never...have I seen someone act so enraged."

More flashes of that day, red-tinted visions of fists pounding into flesh.

"I am truly sorry, Polaris. I would not blame you in the least if you did not trust me, much less want to serve alongside me."

"I cannot say. Not yet. I do appreciate you...coming here to apologize, however. It couldn't hurt to start anew, could it?"

"I suppose not," Tercio replied with a relieved laugh. He grasped his comrade's foreleg in his hands. "It's good to have you back with us."

"And I am very glad to be back. I remember...I remember there was something else. Just before you struck. I was saying 'attack, attack', and then...some other word. Something like...For...Falc...Faln..."

A clear memory of the past. A sword held high above an exposed throat, its hilt dripping with blood.

"Fal'naas," Polaris said at last, the word finally returning to him. Tercio felt his grip tighten at the mere sound of it. Something inside of him was reacting to the simple word, and even as he felt his heart beat quicken the sound of Polaris' voice seemed to fade into the distance.

"...are you doing? Tercio? Are you alright?"

With a start and a sudden gasp Tercio found himself once more in control. He sprang to his feet and stepped away from the injured unicorn, leaning against a marble pillar with heavy breaths.

"Gods above..."

"What was that?" Polaris asked with a look of concern and confusion. "You looked as if...you were...lost in thought."

"That word! Something about it--"

"You mean fal'n--"

"Don't say it!" Tercio shouted. The apothecary looked over in their direction for a moment before returning to his work with a shrug. "Please. Where did you hear it from? What in the world does it mean?"

"It's...a deertongue word, I think. I heard it during training...many years ago. Our old instructor..."

"What does it mean?" Tercio repeated.

"I don't know. It's just something he used to...say to us." Polaris pushed himself up on an elbow. "Is there something I should know?"

Tercio's mind was swimming, a great, swirling vortex of half-seen memories and a thousand emotions pulling on him at once.

"I can't be here right now. I'm sorry, my friend. I should remove myself before something happens again..."

"Tercio? I must admit to being...quite confused...right now."

"I-I have to leave. I will try to come by in the morning. I just need to get out of here." He stumbled towards the door without another word. A terrible pain began to build in his head and it took every bit of his strength to make the trek back to his bunk. He collapsed onto the straw-filled mattress, still fully clothed, and within seconds he began the most troubled night's rest since he'd assaulted Polaris many days ago.

A field of wheat, endless on all sides.

"They will be here soon. We cannot hold them forever."

"I know. We will be gone long before they arrive. Do not concern yourself."

"And what of the child? He is not yet ready."

Falling, falling endlessly through a sky of storms and fire.

"Then we will leave him. This does not change anything."

"It changes everything! How can you abandon us at such a time?"

A river of blood, thick with corpses.

"Patience. The time will come. We must simply wait."

A groggy morning came with the rising of the sun. Sleep had been nearly impossible, filled with images Tercio could hardly begin to piece together, if they meant anything at all. Wearily he'd dressed himself and strapped on his armor, giving a check to the daily assignment posting. A dozen stallions crowded around the scroll, searching for their names. Tercio found his half-way down: Throne Room duty. He groaned, not particularly looking forward to a day of standing around in an empty hallway guarding a set of doors.

"Look on the bright side," a stallion from Barracks Two joked, "you're a Praetorian now. You get to guard the second set of doors! Those poor bastards in the Royal Guard have to stand near the outer ones. You're moving up in the world."

By the time Tercio finished readying himself and headed down the hallway to the central palace grounds, then down to his assigned post, he found Morning Star already waiting. Beside him was an unfamiliar stallion in a sour mood who complained about the long night, barely managing a salute to formally leave his post before muttering about sleep. Once he passed through the first set of double doors leading back outside, Tercio leaned his back against the wall and let out a sigh. For most of the night he had tried to figure out who might possibly know what "fal'naas" could possibly mean, and why it caused him to react with such anger, but as far as he knew none of his comrades spoke Deertongue.

"Krosus," the pony said to him, tipping his spear.

"Star," Tercio replied.

"Another exciting day, hmm? Just think, we could be leading squads of soldiers in battle right now, instead of standing around like common guards. Makes you rethink joining the Praetorians a little, doesn't it?"

"Of course not," Tercio insisted. Morning Star eyed him skeptically. "...fine, perhaps a little."

"That's what I thought. By the way, you look terrible. Spend the night with a whore who didn't agree with your wages?"

"If only it were that simple." There was no way he could tell Morning Star about, well, anything that had happened during the visit to Polaris' sickbed. A half-truth would suffice. "One could hardly blame me for getting little in the way of sleep. My brother in the Legion is marching off to war as we speak. By this eve he may be in battle." Yet another thing thing to worry about. Truthfully he felt terrible for thinking about something as relatively pointless as a mysterious word when Victus may very well be fighting for his life, but it wasn't as if he could simply will himself to appear at his brother's side.

"I can only hope he lives to see the morrow," he said quietly.

Morning Star nodded. "I shall keep him in my prayers."

"Thank you."

Hours came and went, bringing little in the way of excitement. Occasionally a well-to-do pony or an officer would stop by for an appointment with the princess, and Morning Star would write their name and time of visit in the thick, hard-bound ledger at his side, or once in a while Tercio and Morning Star would talk about some of the few things that had in common, but otherwise it was just another long posting. It did, however, give Tercio a lot of time to think. There was one pony who might have the information he was looking for. All he had to do was gain access to her.

"Do you remember some time ago, when you misplaced your gladius?" Tercio asked, breaking the silence.

"Of course," the other said with a small laugh. "Stonewall would have had my ass if you hadn't let me borrow yours. Why do you ask?"

"Because I need to call upon that favor you owe me."

Morning Star swore. "Great. I should have known I'd regret saying that. What is it you want?"

"I need to see the princess as soon as possible."

"You see her every time we open the doors."

"You know what I mean, smart-ass. I have need to speak with her. Believe me, it's urgent."

"Maybe it is," Morning Star said, rubbing a hoof under the back of his helm, "but why not go through Stonewall? There's a chain of command for this kind of thing."

"I cannot discuss it with Stonewall, or anyone else for that matter. It has to be Princess Celestia." Tercio placed a pleading hand over his chest. "I promise, this will not come back to you. If the imperator wishes to bring down his wrath upon anyone, it shall be me alone."

"...and your plan is?"

"Put me in for a meeting with the princess before our shift ends. You can mark it in the ledger as, say...Gallant Hearthstone?"

"My uncle?!" Morning Star asked, raising his voice. Tercio had to shush him before they returned to a quieter voice. "Why in the nine hells would I do such a thing?"

"Because no one would question him showing up for an appointment. He's connected. And thus, so are you."

"But he lives half-way across the country!"

"Exactly. Who will find out? Certainly not him."

Morning Star lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "If I decide to help you -- and that is a very large 'if' -- then we are even. More than even. This is a far larger risk than simply misplacing a sword. You're asking me to lie on the official registry!"

"I know, I know, but this for Polaris' sake, not just my own. Everyone knows what I did, and I can't just make that go away. But I can try to make sure it never happens again." Morning Star tapped a hoof while he thought about the proposal. "Please. There is something going on that I cannot explain. Princess Celestia could be the answer I'm searching for."

Morning Star grumbled something to himself, leaning against his spear.

"Alright. I'll put you down for a few hours from now. But no more favors, understood?"

"Understood. And thank you. Whatever it is that's happened to me, I intend to find out."

The large doors of Princess Celestia's throne room swung open, groaning on their hinges. It had been several weeks since his first visit to the opulent, regal building, but Tercio still felt a sense of wonder as he entered. Lengths of multi-colored silk and gold trinkets wrapped around the carved marble pillars that supported the arched ceiling, and large windows let in the warmth and light of the mid-day's sun. At the end of the room, under the hanging banner of Equestria's lands, Princess Celestia sat with a scroll levitating in front of her. A cup of steaming liquid sat beside her; tea of some sort, he guessed. Tercio approached cautiously, still unsure of being in her presense under false pretenses.

"Ah, Sir Hearthstone," she said in a practiced, refined voice, still keeping her eyes on the scroll. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I realize it is a long trip from your home, surely you must--"

She looked up, jerking her head back slightly as she realized who she was speaking with.

"...Tercio? Where's Sir Hearthstone?"

"He's not here, Your Highness. Truth be told, he was never meant to arrive today."

She gave an inquisitive look.

"I am afraid I do not understand..."

Tercio approached the royal dais, bowing his head and saluting with his fist over his chest.

"I beg your forgiveness, my Princess, but I needed to see you as soon as possible."

"About what? Is something the matter?"

"Yes. It's about Polaris, and my actions that brought him to his current condition."

Celestia rolled up the scroll and placed it on a shelf, where it joined many others.

"I am more than willing to speak with anyone who requests it, but you must understand there is a process to such things. This unfortunate war keeps me quite busy."

"I know. I am deeply sorry for the misleading nature of my arrival, but I needed help that only you can provide, and I needed it quickly." Tercio hoped he had not overstepped his bounds.

"Hmm...while I cannot condone such an action, I can hear the conviction in your voice, and if speaking with you will somehow provide you answers for what you seek, then I will hear you now." She smiled lightly, adding, "but please, in the future, you needn't worry about coming to see me. I may be quite busy, but I know that the very heart and soul of this nation is its people -- you included. All you need to do is ask."

"Thank you very much, Princess," Tercio said with a sigh of relief. "That is very kind of you."

Celestia nodded. "Very well, what can I help you with?"

Tercio began to pace back and forth as he spoke. "Very early this morning, well before the dawn, I received word from a runner that Polaris was awake. I rushed down to see for myself, and was very glad to see it was true."

"I have not yet had the chance to see him. How is he?"

"He is doing well, though he is still quite unsightly with injuries. I can only hope he recovers quickly. But yes, I spoke with him at some length, mostly about the regrettable attack. I asked what he remembered of that day, and to my surprise he remembered far more than even myself. Most importantly, he remembered one word that I did not. That word is why I have sought you out today." He stopped. "Princess, you speak many languages, yes?"

"I do," she said, "many fluently, some less so. Why do you ask?"

"Is one of them Deertongue? The language of the Whitetail and Cervidaens?"

"Iyl fwelyyn tor al'wa'yys," she replied with a small laugh. "I speak it well enough. Though they would prefer if we called it 'The Common Language of Deerkind'. I'm guessing this word you're looking for is in their language?"

"Yes, at least according to Polaris. I will say it, but I must ask that you please do not repeat it back to me. It has effects that are...difficult to explain."

"What sort of effects? If this is something potentially dangerous I would like to know."

"It seems to trigger some sort of...uncontrollable anger, a deeply-seated rage that consumes my every thought. At first it's simply a strong urge, but when heard multiple times -- like when Polaris and I were sparring -- it clouds my judgment until all I can focus on is destroying the closest thing to me. It happened to be Polaris that first day..."

Celestia was quiet for a time. "I must admit, I've never heard of such a thing in all my years. This is quite odd."

"I know. I say it's something that controls my actions, but at the same time I feel as if there is an absolute clarity when it's overtaken me. Like all I've ever lived for is in that very moment."

"I see. What is this word?"

Tercio took a deep breath, as if preparing to speak great, terrible truths before the gods themselves.

"Fal'naas," he finally said.

Celestia mouthed the word, but did not speak it, as she compared it to Equestrian.

"It has no direct translation to our language," she said after some time, "but the closest meaning would be 'destroy without mercy' or 'kill with purpose', depending on the context."

"Destroy without mercy...I suppose that would explain my actions. Where does this word come from?"

"It's an old military order, from before the deer united into the two nations they are now."

"I don't understand, Princess...why would I have knowledge of such a word? Why does it seem to control me so? I have never even heard Deertongue until Polaris spoke it to me!"

"I don't know, much as I wish I could provide you with a more satisfactory answer. You're certain you've never heard it before the incident with Polaris?"

"Not that I can recall, no. It's as if it's simply come out of nowhere, and now I worry that I will be set off once more by something so simple. I do not wish to hurt anyone else."

Celestia stood up from her dais, stepping over to Tercio until she was just in front of him. Her voice was calming and comforting as she spoke.

"Tercio...in order to better understand what is at the heart of this situation, I need to see the effects of it for myself. What I'm about to ask of you is not something I take lightly."

He knew what it was likely going to be, and he hated having to contemplate it.

"I am going to speak the word to you, more than once. Then I can--"

"Princess, I must object," he interrupted. "You've seen what I did to Polaris! I cannot, and will not, let such harm come to yourself!"

"It will be alright. I assure you, I will be in no danger from your actions."

He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"At least call some of the others in to restrain me, if you insist on such a thing!"

"I do not want them to see you like that again. Not if we can avoid it." She gave Tercio a warm smile. "I promise, nothing will happen. You understand why I ask this of you, don't you?"

"I do," he answered begrudgingly, "but I still do not like the thought of it. This...this...urge within me, it frightens me, Princess. Truly frightens me."

"I know it does. That's why we will control it before it controls you."

The idea of willingly losing himself again, especially before the very princess he thought so highly of, shook him to his very depths. Was she really so sure of her ability to control him? She obviously believed she could, but after the horrific assault on Polaris he felt nothing but trepidation. Still, if it held even a slim hope of helping...

"Okay," he relented, "I will do as you ask. But please, allow me a moment to prepare."

"Of course. Take your time."

Tercio removed his helm, setting it against a far wall, along with his arm guards, sword belt -- with sheathed blade still attached -- and leg guards. Finally, he pulled the long, thin dagger from its holster along the small of his back, tossing it aside with a clatter. Now removed of anything that could possibly injure or kill, he stood in the center of the long room and braced himself. Celestia had already closed the smaller set of doors that led her personal quarters and kitchen area, leaving only her and Tercio in the throne room.

"Alright," he said at last. "I am ready."

"Then let us begin."

Outwardly, Princess Celestia was as collected and calm as ever, not a single word or motion betraying the practiced confidence she'd become so used to showing. Deep down, however, she was as unsure as the human standing before her. She hoped she was wrong. Really, truly hoped.

"Please try to describe what you're feeling, if you can," she asked of him. In truth, she didn't want to strain him in such a way as she was about to, but far more than her own regret was riding on the results of her impromptu test.

He is dangerous, sister.

Such a simple word. An outdated word. A word not in common use since the days of her parents' rule. And yet, here it was, a hidden trigger that could utterly dominate the will of someone she'd watched grow for nearly his entire life. She hated to say it at all.

"Fal'naas."

It was slight, at first. A clenching of his fists, a tightening of his muscles. He shut his eyes against some unseen urge, inhaling sharply at the sensation.

"It is like...a trickle of blood at the back of my eyelids," he said after several seconds. "My mouth grows dry. I feel as if my body is braced for combat. I feel...strong."

A short time passed, and he nodded for her to continue.

"Fal'naas."

He fell to a knee, gritting his teeth. Something stronger was beginning to overtake him. He visibly fought for control of his own actions, his strong arms twitching as if to drive him forward. It took longer for him to respond this time, and his words came out between grunts of exertion.

"It is now...a stream. My body...calls for violence. Darkness. It is hard to...to think."

Celestia was becoming more worried as Tercio fought the urges wracking his body. She wanted to stop, but she knew she had to carry on for his sake. He would hate himself, possibly even hate her, but in time he would forgive.

"Please...do not let me...hurt you!"

"I promise."

Once more he signaled he was ready.

"...fal'naas."

For a long moment, he simply stopped, his head bowed, barely moving.

"Tercio? Can you hear--"

With a terrible shout he sprang to his feet, rushing forward faster than Celestia had thought possible. His eyes, wide and focused, gazed upon her with a horrible blood lust. Thinking quickly, she focused a small portion of her magic into an ethereal barrier that should have pushed back with enough force to temporarily stumble him. It didn't. Tercio pushed through the barrier as if it was not even there, his strong form speeding toward her. She had to take a step back to avoid a lunge, and Tercio fell to the floor. He pounded his fist on the polished marble, back on his feet within seconds.

This time, Celestia wrapped him in a cloud of sparkling, yellow energy. He yelled at the setback, gritting his teeth in exertion, never taking his eyes off her for even a second. The look of pure, unbridled hatred shook Celestia to her very soul. Amazingly, Tercio had found it within himself to continue forward despite the force that was locking him in place. Heavy footsteps echoed through the throne room as he slowly advanced against magic that would have held any other soldier without fail. Even with her great effort, Tercio would not be stopped. His resistance to magic was far more than she'd feared.

He is dangerous, sister.

Tears began to stream from the corners of his eyes as he grunted and yelled against the force she placed on him.

"Kar...kar'nal..."

Celestia gasped at the sudden realization: Tercio had spoken in the language of the deer. It was stuttering and harsh, but clear all the same.

"Kar'nal d-dwylluun...fon...Equestrii!"

Slaughter the Equestrian.

"Oh, no..."

A split second, a heart beat's lack of focus, was all it took. Straining against the weight of his own armor he pushed forward, swinging a powerful fist at her. Celestia jumped back, tripping over her own dais and breaking the porcelain cup at its side. She stumbled to stay upright, her golden shoes clacking rapidly on the ground.

At the far end of the room, the large doors swung open. Morning Star looked inside, his sword at the ready, having been drawn in by all the commotion. He saw his princess running away from the human, and without thought he took to the air and flew with all his might.

"No!" Celestia shouted, having regained her balance. Morning Star quickly halted in mid-air.

"Princess, you are in danger! I must--"

"Do not interfere! That is an order!"

Bright rays of light filled the room as she brought more of her power to bear, wrapping her long horn in layers of magical energy. Celestia knew she was walking a very fine line -- any more power and she was likely to kill him outright. Still he struggled, blood streaming down from his nose and over his mouth, giving him the look of a crazed predatory animal. There was one final hope, one last solution before she would be forced to render him unconscious.

"Tercio," she said firmly, "foryys aviil naas!"

Cease your attack.

Immediately he stopped struggling, though his breathing remained heavy.

"Tercio?..." Morning Star said quietly as he watched the spectacle unfold before him.

Celestia repeated the phrase, and Tercio fell to his knees. Slowly, but surely, his focus returned. His breathing steadied, the primal violence in his actions ceased. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and in an instant his body went limp and fell to the floor. Celestia reacted quickly, cushioning his head against the fall with a slight pull of magic.

Stunned, Morning Star flapped over to his comrade's side, landing beside him and cautiously watching him.

"Princess...what did I just--"

"You are not to speak a word of this to anyone," she said quietly but firmly. "Please. For his sake."

Morning Star had heard the rumors of Tercio's outburst. He'd seen Polaris lying in the infirmary in terrible condition. But to see it for himself was something else entirely.

He is dangerous.

"Gods," he said, looking up at Celestia, "what happened here?"

11 - Equestria Must Fall

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

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

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

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

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

"Did I misspeak?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She was never in danger," Tercio insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The night greets you well, sister."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We will all die, sister."

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

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

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

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

"Then their faith is weak."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Canterlot was under attack.

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

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

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

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

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

"Understood!" they answered as one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can we hold them?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

"Of course, Princess," Rimeberry answered.

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

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

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

"Of course."

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

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

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

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

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

"Release!"

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

"Catapults, reload!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah..."

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

"Archers, at the ready!"

Countless arrowheads aimed at the sky.

"Release!"

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

"Shields up!"

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

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

"Hastati, shield wall formation!"

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

"Princepes, spears up!"

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

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

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

"Equestriaaans! Chaaaarge!"

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

Tercio struck his shield and sword together in frustration.

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

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

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

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

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

"For Nightmare Moon!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

For Nightmare Moon.

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

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

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

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

12 - Sell-Sword, Assassin, Butcher

"Sir, catapults are reloaded and ready to fire!"

"Ballistae report Whitetail infantry are within range!"

General Phalanx looked over the battle that was raging below, where thousands of deer and ponies were engaged in vicious combat. It had only been a few minutes at most, but already the losses on both sides were staggering. The deer fought with tenacity and a strikingly offensive style, but Phalanx's soldiers were giving just as well as they were getting. Maces and war hammers had proven to be particularly effective against the tough but brittle armor of the deer. He only wished he had more.

White cloak flowing behind him, even in the pouring rain, he set in motion the first phase of his battle plan.

"Catapults, target their siege engines! Ballistae, I want you to hit the second tier of their infantry! Archers, you're to target your counterparts in the deer lines! Let's see if we can't reduce their ranged abilities!"

Hundreds of arrows were readied, long bows levitating in front of unicorn archers or firmly secured in place with spikes stuck into the ground for pegasi and earth ponies. Siege weapons sounded the all-ready to their commanders. The straining of strings and groaning of ropes sounded as one.

"All ranged forces...fire!"

"Victus, left side!"

A large deer wielding a long, narrow blade bounded over a dead pony, stabbing it forth in an attempt to get the advantage over Victus and his allies. Victus managed to dodge to the side, deflecting the weapon off the side of his shield, only to be met by furious kicks from the twin conical blades of the deer's armor. The rain of blows was keeping Victus on the back hoof, and for every stab he dodged or blocked two more came his way. A momentary opening let him thrust his gladius at the deer, only to have it bounce off the crystalline armor that made their kind so infuriating to fight. Suddenly the attacking buck let out a yell of anguish and fell to his side, blood pooling under him from a vicious wound. A thrust to the deer's neck put a definitive end to the fight.

"My thanks, Chiron!" Victus said above the din of battle, already searching for his next foe. There was no shortage of potential targets -- countless deer were fighting along a massive line of shields and weapons that extended as far as the eye could see. Already he and his squad-mates had accounted for two dozen deer vanquished, yet still it seemed like so little. A shouted order came from somewhere behind, an order for the second tier -- the princepes -- to ready their throwing spears.

"Pila incoming, shields up!" he yelled to his squad. A makeshift roof of tower shields went up along the first four ranks. Someone nearby let out a cry as a deer pike found a gap in the shield wall. The well-trained legionaries immediately took his place, making sure the wall stayed closed.

Dozens of pila arced over the formation, falling amongst the ranks of the Whitetail. The heavy spear heads had the power to pierce the thinner armor on the backs and helms of the deer, and many fell in an instant. Immediately after there came a loud, collective whistle as hundreds of arrows and dozens of heavy ballista bolts flitted into the air. A rain of iron and wood lanced through the deer, impacting with wet thumps and the sound of metal tearing through flesh. Victus chanced a look between shields and watched a squad of deer fall to the ground, some dead from multiple arrows to exposed areas, others pierced through by long, deadly bolts. A buck several rows back had been impaled through with such force that he was now uselessly squirming half-way up the shaft of a ballista projectile, blood seeping from his mouth and running down from both sides of his body. He shouted something in an agonized voice. A soldier beside him turned, nodded sharply, and immediately ran his long, narrow blade through his impaled comrade's heart. Seconds later, the struggling ceased.

Without delay or warning, the heavy-sounding passes of catapulted boulders and projectiles drowned out the battle with impacts so loud they could be heard, and felt, over the clashes of steel and screams of the dying.

"Squad, hold the wall! Spears up!"

Ponies grunted and strained to keep the deer from breaking through, pushing back with all of their might. Behind the first line Ceraunius, Sertis, Steel Spark and others set their thrusting spears into their shoulders, held tight in their forelegs.

"Hold! Hooold!" A small step of momentum came, and Victus took full advantage of it. "Now!"

Victus, Chiron and the entire first row of shield-bearers momentarily parted their tower shields. At the same time, the second row thrust their long weapons through, aiming for unarmored necks and gaps in armor. As soon as they did, the shield wall formed back into an impenetrable barrier. The Equestrians moved up a precious pair of steps, finishing off any who lay wounded.

"Stay strong, brothers! Fight until your last breath!"

Tercio and Rimeberry had just finished piling the bodies of the three attackers in the corner when another scroll popped into being with a flash of magic. Imperator Stonewall snatched it up, unfurled it, and swore at the news it contained.

"The eastern entrance has been compromised. Praetorians from barracks four are heading over to reinforce it, but they fully expect some opposition to have already passed through." If the eastern entrance had fallen, it meant there were now less than sixty defenders between the throne room and the palace foregrounds. "Damnit all, I wish we had a better idea of the traitors' numbers. They have to be running low on forces by now!"

The sounds of battle drew ever closer as they waited, anxiously, for another attack. It was only a matter of time. Where, and when, it would come from was the single greatest unknown. For a group of skilled soldiers so used to the steady ebb and flow of combat, the uncertainty was almost unbearable.

Tercio kept his head on a swivel, expecting a pegasus to fly through the window once more, or a deer to appear in a flash of light behind him, or perhaps even a griffon to crash through the roof.

Long minutes passed in uncomfortable silence. No one said a word, but they all knew they were likely to see more combat before the hour was through. What was once a distant murmur had grown into a far closer cacophony of clashing weapons and cries of battle.

"Bastards can't be further than the garden entrance," Stonewall finally spoke up. Once more a scroll appeared before him, this time bearing the red stamp that denoted utmost urgency. He read it aloud, making sure to direct most of it at Celestia.

"Palace safety is compromised. Most of the attackers are dead but a large group has managed to fight its way past the initial defenses. The Royal Guard commander expects them to be upon us shortly, and advises evacuation. Western stations are on their way to reinforce, but until then we are effectively cut off."

He stuck out the scroll, letting the princess levitate it in front of her. She quickly looked over it, a shadow of worry crossing her face.

"Princess Celestia, this location is no longer secure. We must retreat to the tunnels."

Celestia frowned, hesitant to leave.

"Are you sure we cannot hold here, Stonewall?"

"I cannot say with certainty, but I believe it better to be safe than sorry in this situation."

"I will need a few moments to gather some things from Luna's room. If those fanatics should find her things, I can only imagine what will happen to them."

Stonewall cleared his throat, still trying to be gentle with his persuasion.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, I'm not sure such a thing is wise at this time. We can come back once the attackers have been dispatched."

"The rest of the praetorian reinforcements are on their way, perhaps we can--"

"Princess!" Stonewall interrupted, finally raising his voice. "We have to go, and we have to go now! Your life is not worth some of Princess Luna's trinkets!"

"They...they are not merely trinkets, Stonewall," she insisted, "they are all I have left of her." She bowed her head in respect. "Please. I ask only for a short time."

Stonewall tapped a hoof on the ground, sighing deeply.

"You have one minute, nothing more. I apologize for my demeanor, Princess, but my only concern in life is your well-being."

"I know," she said in reply, "and thank you. I promise, we will evacuate before anything can happen."

"Very well. Venerin, Thunderburst, you're with the princess. One minute. Understood?"

The praetorians nodded, trotting alongside Celestia as she headed through the entrance at the back of the throne room.

"The rest of you, form up on me! I want your shields at the ready and in formation!"

Commotion, not far now. Heavy and rhythmic it came, joining the sound of death and battle from just down the hall. A series of loud cracks sounded, followed by a resounding thud as something large crashed down and shook the floor.

The outer doors had fallen.

"It is just up ahead. Please, wait here. I will only be a moment."

Princess Celestia let her two faithful praetorians at the entryway to the royal chambers, but she was not alone. At her side, Luna kept pace with a smug smirk.

Really, sister? Bits and baubles? I am surprised by you.

They are all that remains of you. If anything should happen to them...

So melodramatic. Whatever happened to the stoic leader of Equestria?

She lost her sister.

Celestia stood in front of the large doors decorated with a carved, crescent moon that marked Luna's personal quarters. For the better part of three months she'd hardly set a hoof inside, not wanting to face the reality of her sister's banishment. In some small way, Celestia hoped that, if she kept Luna's room just as it was when she'd changed, the events of that fateful night might undo themselves, and she could return to life as it had existed for hundreds of years.

You are deluding yourself. Are you both a fool and a dreamer, Celestia?

Cautiously, she nudged the doors open and stepped inside. The air was stale, the room dark and cold. The once ever-present scent of night lilies was gone, leaving in its place a heavy blanket of dust that swirled and flowed with her every movement.

Luna was gone. In her place, Nightmare Moon stood in glowing armor.

Do you see now? Trinkets. Nothing more.

Celestia bathed the room in the first light it had seen in many months, a casting of yellow energy that glowed from the tip of her horn. It reflected off glass vases and delicately sculpted gifts; presents from admirers and dignitaries. In the corner, a stylized painting of her and Luna circling a half-sun, half-moon on a field of stars sat on a night stand, surrounded by wilted flowers.

Somewhere in the distance, a booming rumble shook the walls and floor.

Even in banishment you torment this city. Is it not enough to make me grieve for you?

The ghostly image smiled like shark moving in for the kill.

I do not make empty threats, sister. And yet...it is not only I who occupies your thoughts these days, is it? You still worry for another...

Beside Nightmare Moon another figure appeared, tall and strong.

In time, you will regret letting him live. You know what he is, the danger he poses. Let him die believing he is protecting you.

He deserves a chance. There is good in him. I have seen it.

How honorable of you. And yet, you have seen the darkness that resides within his very being. End him, Celestia. End him, and be done with it!

"I will not!" Celestia shouted, stomping a hoof on the marble floor. The shadowy forms drifted away in the wind as Thunderburst and Venerin burst into the room, swords at the ready.

"Princess! Are you alright?!" Thunderburst asked, surveying the room.

It took Celestia a moment to realize what she had done; she fought to hide her embarrassment and had to look away lest her guards see the tears in her eyes.

"Yes...I'm fine, thank you. I apologize for my outburst, I was simply overcome at seeing Luna's belongings in such a condition."

Venerin motioned with his weapon. "Your Highness, it is time to go. The outer doors have been breached and there is now little standing between us and the remaining extremists."

Celestia wished she had more time. There were so many memories to be revisited, centuries worth of keepsakes and possessions. She feared she may never see them again.

A blue and white saddlebag floated to her side, and inside it she placed a few precious bits of her past. They clinked and rustled as they jostled against one another, and when she was satisfied she secured the flap and strapped the bag around her waist. A loud battering on the throne room doors drove the severity of the situation home, and Celestia and her guards headed back to the throne room proper with all due haste.

The struggle of combat had already ceased as Tercio ducked low behind his shield. There were no more praetorians guarding the hallway; their brief fight had lasted no more than half a minute. Now they were certainly dead, leaving only the heavy, barred doors to keep the attackers at bay. Something heavy and powerful was bashing against them, spraying splinters of wood with each impact and buckling the ornate doors little by little.

"Stonewall!" Tercio turned briefly to see Celestia and her escort galloping in. They closed and barred the doors behind them, then immediately took their places beside their brothers.

"Have you found what you were looking for?" Stonewall asked, a spear tucked against his side.

"I grabbed what I could," Celestia answered, already beginning the process of revealing the escape tunnel that had existed, but never been used, for the last two hundred years. It was times like this she wished she was still at the castle of her parents, far off in the Everfree forest. The countless hours her and Luna had spent exploring the myriad passages and secret paths would have served her well for escaping.

"It will take some time to bypass the magical barriers in place. I will require some time!"

"Time is not something we have a lot of, Princess!"

The heavy beating continued -- WHAM, WHAM -- and with each strike the door give a tiny bit. Venerin focused his magic to try and reinforce it as best he could, but it was only a temporary measure.

"It would be easier if Polaris were here," he said between clenched teeth.

Polaris. Tercio had scarcely thought of him since the incident with Celestia. He hoped the unfortunate unicorn was well, carried off to safety by the apothecaries. He would have to wait to find out.

Celestia wrapped the royal dais in a cloud of sparkling magic, slowly sliding it out of place. Underneath the throne, what appeared to be a solid floor soon began to shimmer and ripple like expanding rings in a puddle, the strange forces at work reacting to her power. She called out to Stonewall, telling him it would only be a moment, when the barred doors finally gave way.

"Cover!" Stonewall shouted, stepping back with his tower shield to avoid the large chunks of debris that rained down as the final line of defense shattered. A volley of arrows immediately flitted through the doorway, bouncing off the impromptu shield wall or clattering off the floor.

Tercio held his pilum tight, and upon the imperator's orders heaved the heavy projectile with all his might. It struck solidly into the unarmored chest of a unicorn, burying itself deep. The unicorn immediately dropped to the floor, the energy around his horn ceasing in an instant. Without sufficient support, the battering ram -- really a crudely torn-out and hastily shaped tree trunk -- wobbled as the remaining unicorns strained to support it. A pair of pila found their marks, and the ram fell to the ground with a resounding crunch and snapping of bones as it crushed anyone who was unfortunate enough to be under it.

"Praetorians, blades front!"

Tercio set his gladius against the side of his tower shield, waiting for an onrush that seemed to number in the dozens. Few of them wore armor, most choosing to don simple blue cloaks and whatever weapons they could levitate or grasp in their mouths. They fell upon the shield wall like a crashing wave, pushing against the semi-circle the praetorians had formed around the door's entrance to funnel the attackers into a killzone. Half a dozen swords thrust out against the wall of bodies that were trying to break the formation, with echoing yells or sharp exhales of pain marking each strike. The fanatical ponies wildly swung their weapons, finding only shields and parrying blades where they lashed out.

A griffon took to the air over the masses, sharp talons extended like daggers, and threw itself against the praetorians. Tercio barely kept upright, swearing between gritted teeth as claws dug into his leg. The griffon managed to get its head over the top of his shield, and it snapped at Tercio viciously, trying to remove his eyes with its sharp beak. Tercio turned his head at the attack, hearing the sharp clangs of his helm as it blunted the griffon's attacks. His gladius went sliding across the floor, and the griffon mocked him in its own language. Still fighting the weight of his attacker, Tercio reached for the small of his back, withdrawing a long, slender dagger, and jabbed it upward into the griffon's neck. The creature shouted in shock and panic, clutching for the blade as it was driven into its throat over and over again. Dark, red blood poured over Tercio in a small torrent, spraying his armor and skin with gore. The griffon ceased its attack, and Tercio tossed its body off his shield.

The wall had held, but the attackers were taking their toll on the brave praetorians. Each and every one of them now sported gashes in their flesh, cuts and stab wounds that turned their steel armor a dark crimson. Still they fought.

Venerin was the first to tire. His weapon lodged in the skull of an opponent, he now resorted to rough bashes and powerful, crushing blows from his tower shield to hold his position. It, too, was soon lost. He grabbed a mace from a mangled body, deflecting blows with his small buckler shield strapped to his right foreleg.

"Hold the line!" Stonewall shouted, stabbing his weapon into the spine of an earth pony that had nearly ended Morning Star's life during a brief moment of tunnel vision. Another volley of arrows zipped through the air, impacting against friend and foe alike. The fanatics were getting desperate, but they could smell blood in the water. It drove them on, their bodies forming a literal mound that reached as high as the praetorians' shields.

"HOLD THE LIIINE!"

A long, curved blade found a gap in Tercio's defenses. It slashed into the unprotected back of his upper arm as it was yanked back against his shield, eliciting a shout of pain. Within seconds there were numerous forelegs pulling at his shield with all of their might, and he could feel himself losing his balance. With only a brief hesitation Tercio removed his arm from the shield's inner straps, letting it fall with the mob. Furious with both himself for letting them get the best of him, and with the fanatics for threatening the very soldiers he cared about, he lashed out with his long dagger at any target he could find. Necks, forelegs, chests, it mattered not. What blows came his way were batted aside with his buckler. He fought like a man possessed, thankful that he was still in control of himself. A short axe fell at his feet from a slain opponent, and he alternated powerful, chopping attacks with swift, precise strikes from both weapons.

A bright flash filled the throne room, and Celestia shouted across the distance.

"The passage is clear!"

Clutching at his side, Stonewall ordered an organized retreat. The praetorians immediately began a quick but methodical retreat, keeping their remaining weapons and shields toward the enemy. For a moment, it looked like the attackers had finally run out of bodies to throw at them. That was the moment the traitorous guards made their move.

Clad in piecemeal Equestrian Guard armor flecked and spotted with dried blood, they advanced without delay, swords slick with gore clutched tightly in their mouths.

"Halt! By order of the Praetorian Guard, I order you to halt!" Stonewall shouted, some small part of him hoping they would listen. Instead, they picked up their pace, coming to a full gallop with loud war cries. They clambered up and over the mound of bodies in the doorway, rushed past the sobbing and dying ponies on the ground around them, and struck the tired, wounded defenders. It took only seconds for their first victim to fall. Venerin blocked a sword swing with his shield, only to find a second pushed up through the gap in his cuirass. He let out a horrible, pained sound, then fell silent as the traitors buried their weapons up the hilt.

"Venerin!" Morning Star shouted, letting his guard down for only a moment at the loss of his friend. An arrow pierced through his right wing and stuck at an angle into his right hind leg, and he tripped over himself and tumbled to the ground. A quick roll was all that saved him from having a sword plunged through his skull.

"Into the passage! Move!" Stonewall struck out with his weapon, but he was losing his focus. His vision swam and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. A heavy weapon smashed into his right foreleg, shattering bone. Only vaguely aware of what had happened, he attempted to lift his shield back up, but it refused to move. Then, all at once, the pain hit. It washed over him like a screaming river, and he fell to the ground clutching at his shattered limb. A stallion wearing a torn cloak and battered armor stood over him, mace raised, and Stonewall prepared to accept his fate.

Behind the deer lines, Brother-General Felnaris stood beside his adviser, looking every bit the commander with his glimmering, crystalline armor laced with gold and inlays of small, purple gems. He had watched the carnage unfold before him for some time, unphased by his losses. His soldiers were holding strong.

"The Equestrians fight well," he said. Pieces of green and white fabric hung from the tips of his tall, wide antlers, a symbol of status among his people.

"Indeed they do, sir. Are you not worried?"

Felnaris gave a short, humorless laugh. "Worried? No, not for a moment, Brother-Captain. We will destroy the Equestrians to the last, and when none stand between us and their paltry capital it will be as if they had never existed."

Brother-Captain Corvalix looked at his commanding officer with an unsure eye.

"Forgive me, Brother-General, but I do not think the ponies will give up so easily. They are tenacious fighters, despite rumors to the contrary. I see that, now, for myself."

"You mean from your time in the forest?"

"Yes," Corvalix said. "They did not give up their pursuit of me, no matter the terrain, and even as their numbers dwindled to my attacks they fought on." He pointed to still-healing wound at his shoulder. "I will carry this scar as a reminder of that for the rest of my life."

"With respect, Brother-Captain, it is not that I doubt such things, but in open battle it is clear they must resort to gimmicks and trickery to win," Felnaris retorted. "Do you see, there? On the western end of the formation?" Corvalix strained his eyes; multi-colored spots were just barely visible, flying high over the battle lines. "General Phalanx has no-doubt created a formation of pegasi to attack our forces from the air. They know we cannot counter them in an equal manner, but they make the mistake of thinking such an attack to be untouchable. Observe."

The distant figures were rapidly growing closer, flying at great speed. Scattered arrows flew up to meet them with no effect, and they answered the volleys with weapons of their own: bundles of short, sharp darts held together with twine. A firm tug released the bundles carried on the sides of each pegasus, and within seconds hundreds of small, lethal projectiles were falling to the earth. By sheer number alone they had proven to be effective, causing entire clusters of deer to collapse with puncture wounds.

"Sir, I don't see how--"

"Patience, Brother-Captain."

In front of the assembled deer officers the most powerful magic users were lined up. They wore no armor, for it would only dampen their concentration. With a simple, spoken order they each focused on a pegasus, their antlers glowing green with crackling energy that arced through the air around them. Immediately, the pegasi stopped in mid-air. They struggled against unseen forces, thrashing wildly. Some managed to escape, but many did not, and moments later a volley of small pots were flung in their direction, lit fuses hanging from their sides. They exploded among the pegasi with loud pops and flashes of light, showering them with shards of glass and jagged metal shavings. With the ponies now wounded or dead, the bucks let their limp forms fall to the earth, where masses of blades made sure they would not get up again.

"You see? Gimmicks. The pegasi have contributed nothing but a few casualties, and now their ranks are asunder. We will not be seeing them again, not in such a formation."

Corvalix took a small step back, out of view of the General. The Equestrians had just launched another volley from their siege weapons, more bundles of darts like those carried by the pegasi. They fell well short of the officers' lines, and those that did come within range were halted in mid air by a shimmering wall of green magic.

"Sir, why not deploy such a barrier among the front lines? Surely it would save many lives."

"Because the rank-and-file are disposable," Felnaris answered coldly. "We can always recruit more. What few gifted magic users we have must be deployed to protect the senior cadre. Namely, you and I. Myself particularly, of course."

"Of course, Brother-General."

An orderly ran up and dropped to his knees, a small cup floating beside him. He offered his thanks as the General took the drink and dismissed him with a wave, and just as quickly as he'd appeared he was gone again.

"Sweetbark tea," Felnaris said over the lip of his cup. "Let me ask you something, Brother-Captain Corvalix."

"Sir?"

"Do you know why I am so confident in victory?"

"I...I could only venture a guess, Brother-General."

"By all means."

Corvalix thought for a long moment, then answered.

"The bravery and tenacity of the Whitetail soldier?"

Felnaris chuckled. "No, no. It is far simpler than any descriptor. So simple, in fact, that even the most uneducated farmer could understand it." He did not wait for Corvalix to respond. "The simple fact is that I have seen combat, commanded soldiers on the battlefield, and General Phalanx has not. He has crushed small bands of extremists or criminals, but open warfare? Not even once. He commands only from training, not from experience."

"I see..."

A ballista bolt arced through the sky, lost behind a volley of arrows. Too heavy to be stopped by a single buck, and noticed too late for the gathered line to focus on it, the missile tore through the magical barrier and removed the head of an unfortunate Whitetail officer.

"Sloppy," Felnaris said, sipping his steaming tea. "The Equestrians, for all their fighting spirit, are a nation of soft bodies and softer hearts. Their much-beloved 'princesses' preached love and kinship, and yet they could not even keep their own relationship from tearing apart at the seams. They are, all of them, hypocrites -- even if they are not aware of it. And that is why we will destroy them to the last."

A wave of light and a force, as brilliant as the sun, rushed through the throne room, tossing back the attacking traitors and slamming them against the far wall in disoriented heaps. Imperator Stonewall wasted no time, taking advantage of the temporary distraction to get back on his hooves with the help of the remaining praetorians.

"Please hurry," Celestia said, the strain of such a show of power heavy on her voice, "I cannot do that again for some time."

The praetorians limped to her side, remaining weapons and shields still trained on the enemy. The attackers had not yet recovered, still lying on the ground and groaning or flailing their limbs in confusion, but Stonewall knew it would not last forever.

"Everyone into the passage," he ordered, weakly lifting his gladius with his remaining, functional foreleg. "Thunderburst and Morning Star, you're the least injured. You have point."

"Sir," the answered as one. Morning Star was the first to make the short fall into the tunnel, landing with a resounding thump. A few seconds later he gave the all-clear, and Thunderburst followed after him.

"Your Highness, if you would."

Celestia took a cursory glance back at the throne room entrance, then jumped down with a brief flap of her wings that kicked up a small gout of dust and dirt from the old, unused passage.

"Rime, Krosus, you'll have to help me down. I fear I won't make such a landing in one piece."

Tercio and Rimeberry nodded, then grabbed hold of Stonewall around his good foreleg and shoulders. Behind them, the stallions were finally regaining their senses, and they shouted to one another as they grabbed hold of whatever weapons they could find. It wouldn't be long before they were on the offensive again.

"Shit," Tercio swore, gradually lowering his commander down. "Sir, they're--"

"I'm well aware, Krosus! Hurry it up!"

Blood dripped down from his cut arm, making it hard to keep a solid hold of Stonewall. He strained and sweated, feeling his muscles beginning to give way under the weight of the injured pony and his armor. The loud, clacking sound of armored hooves on tile echoed through the room -- the traitor guards were coming.

"Fuck it, that's close enough! Let me go and get your asses in here right now!"

Stonewall fell the remaining few feet and landed hard on his haunches, exhaling sharp and harsh as the air was knocked from his lungs. Above him, a tossed axe whipped by the entrance and narrowly missed Tercio and Rimeberry. They threw themselves into the hole, landing hard enough to warp their segmented shoulder armor.

Celestia began to close off the entrance as soon as her personal guard was with her, first bringing the magical barrier back into being, then sliding the heavy dais back into place. The stallions above shouted and swore viciously, trying to stop the escape. One of them managed to get his armored forelegs into the entrance, up to his knees. The wall of energy enveloped him and coursed through his body like lightning, and he screamed as the dais slid into place, crushing him into place, bones shattered, where he would remain until the barrier shocked the very life from his body.

Celestia flinched at the sound. She hated to inflict suffering on anyone, even those who would end her life, but she knew she had no other choice.

"Poor bastard," Thunderburst said, helping Rimeberry up from the heap of limbs he'd crumpled into on landing.

"A fitting death for a traitor and a murderer." Stonewall pulled a pair of small vials from under his armor, wrapped in cloth, and uncorked them with a tug from his teeth. A pair of torches stood in sconces on the rough, dirty stone walls. The air smelled stagnant and earthy, and he hoped the old torches would still hold a light. Carefully, one liquid was poured in a small amount over the cloth and sap torch heads.

"Stand back," he ordered. A second liquid, more viscous and tinted red, was then poured over the first. The chemicals bubbled and fizzed for several seconds, then ignited with a flash of red-orange flames. "Well, at least one thing today hasn't gone to shit. Princess, I take it you know your way around?"

"Yes, but it has been some time since I was last down here with Luna," she answered, adding her own yellow glow to the torchlight glinting off the walls.

"Is everyone still able to fight?"

They answered affirmative to the last, even as Morning Star wrenched an arrow from his hind leg with gritted teeth.

"Right. Krosus, do your grotesque monkey paws still work?"

"Sir?"

"Your hands, Krosus! Stop staring at me like a wide-eyed cow and grab a torch. You're the most inviting target so you get to take point. Do you still have a weapon?"

"Just a dagger, sir. Lost the axe in the melee."

"Good enough. The rest of us will form up around the princess. It should only take a short time to reach the cavern. We'll wait there until the other praetorians and what's left of the Royal Guard can wipe out the remaining traitors."

The dug-out tunnel was barely high enough for Tercio to stand up in, and the walls felt cramped and claustrophobic as he made his way through the old passage. Celestia was quiet for much of the journey, saying very little as she followed behind Tercio with the battered, bloody remnants of the praetorians at her side. On they walked, passing through an additional barrier that was quickly cleared by royal magic, and soon the air became lighter and cooler. There was an entrance near-by, or some sort of ventilation chamber, Celestia mentioned.

"I can't believe they got into the throne room," Rimeberry said, walking on three legs with the fourth clutching the gash on his chest.

"Bastards ran Venerin right through! We made them pay for every step, though." Morning Star kicked at the dirt with a frustrated swear, bloodied gladius still clutched in his mouth.

"That we did." He looked up at the princess. "You are unharmed, Your Highness?"

"I am, thanks to all of you," she said as comfortingly as she could manage. "Thank you for protecting me. Although..." her voice trailed off.

"Princess?"

"Decanus Venerin's death weighs heavily on me," she said with a tinge of sadness creeping into her voice. "I feel I bear responsibility for him. If I had not returned to grab some petty items from Princess Luna's room, he might still be alive."

Imperator Stonewall answered her as his torn cloak dragged on the floor behind him.

"Do not burden yourself with such thoughts, Princess. We are sworn to protect you to our last breaths. Venerin died as well as any of us could ever hope. He did not object even once, for he knows the value of family. In truth, I rejoice for him, for he is with his now. Any of us should be so lucky." When Celestia did not speak further, Stonewall continued. "He will posthumously be made a full-fledged Praetorian, and buried with all the honors that entails. On this, I give my word."

The winding tunnel eventually opened into a wider path, tall enough for Tercio to finally stand up straight. He rubbed the soreness from his neck as he stepped over a small boulder -- and stopped.

"Gods," he whispered in awe, "what sort of place is this?"

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Lacertus Praxis heard distant voices coming from somewhere beyond the expansive cave he'd found his way into. For some time he'd simply lied upon his back and taken in the sights and sounds around him; a cavern of the most beautiful crystals and clearest water he'd ever seen. Old and jaded though he considered himself, somewhere in the back of his mind he still felt a child-like wonder at the spectacle.

Above him, long crystals, as big around as his great sword, jutted from the ceiling, surrounded by patches of smaller crystalline shapes that looked as delicate as blades of grass. The large formations glowed a soft, almost ethereal blue that radiated to the surrounding walls, themselves seemingly polished to a near-mirror shine by some unknown element. Below his well-hidden perch, pools of perfectly clear water stood motionless. Tiny, purple shards added just the smallest hint of color from the bottom. A cool wind blew in from limestone tubes leading to the outside world, adding a relaxing, almost nurturing feel to the cavern.

And then there was the sound. He'd missed it at first, too busy climbing up to his ambush point and subsequently breathing heavily from exertion, but as he'd regained his senses it came to him. It was barely noticeable at first, like a mis-heard sound or a trick of the mind. Then it had started to grow, carried on the cool breeze, a soft twinkling of harmonious notes from the most delicate chimes he could imagine. Always they were there, just at the edge of his hearing, and when he'd closed his eyes he could imagine himself floating over an endless ocean with the sun rising over the horizon. For the first time in many years, he'd felt truly at peace.

Then came the voices from the tunnel. The crystals slowly, subtly changed color to a radiant yellow as the sounds of steel and hoof approached ever closer. Carefully he chanced the smallest peak over an outcropping, and within seconds a limb appeared. Long, well-toned, covered in armor plating. No mere pony limb. He smiled to himself -- the waiting was over.

"In all my years I have never seen such a place!"

Tercio and his compatriots stood in slack-jawed wonder at the sight of the cave around them. Stonewall urged them to stay sharp, but even he had to admit to the beauty before his eyes. Still, his duty came first, and he ordered the remaining praetorians to take their places around the tall, echoing chamber. They would be safe here, he said, until the fighting had passed.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Celestia said with the first smile she'd managed since the fighting began. "Many years ago, when our mother and father still ruled as King and Queen, Luna and I would venture down here. We shared countless stories and played many games, just the two of us." The glowing crystals turned a dark blue at the mention of the fallen Princess' name, then faded back to yellow. "This place still remembers those times, just as much as I do."

"I don't understand," Tercio said, bending down and sliding his fingers through the cool water. They tingled, like the kiss of winter ice, and soon the blood had been washed from his hand like it was never there. "What do you mean 'this place still remembers'?"

"This cave is very special. It is a font of magical energy, a wonder of the natural way of things. My father said it used to be a unicorn holy site, back before the three races united under a single banner. That was many centuries ago."

She reached out and touched an armored hoof to a long, multi-faceted crystal. It shined brilliantly though all colors of the sunset.

"There is a consciousness about this place, one beyond my understanding, and I think it beautiful. At one time, so did my sister." She turned and motioned to Tercio with a slight nod of her head. "Come, see for yourself."

He cautiously approached her side, unsure of what he might feel once he made contact with the strange surface. Slowly, he pressed his fingers to the hard face of the crystal. He could feel a vibration, like a hum, pass through his arm and over his body.

"It is unsure of what to make of you," Celestia explained as the crystal ceased to glow. Tercio frowned, disappointed, and the humming sensation left him. "You are conflicted."

"Should I not be?" he asked quietly, remembering only small flashes of how he'd once again lost control of himself and attempted to harm the very princess he was sworn to protect.

Celestia hesitated before answering.

"Only you can know the answer for sure. It is not my place to say."

She placed a hoof against the back of his hand, and together the crystal glowed with a faint yellow-orange.

"Perhaps one day you will know. On that day, we will return here, under happier circumstances."

Covered in blood, both his and his enemy's, bruised and cut and broken, Tercio found it hard to think of such times. He missed his brother, missed his parents, feared for their safety. He wondered if he would be able to truly protect the princess, or if he was even truly cut out for the Praetorians. Still, there was something about Celestia that radiated confidence and comfort, even in her own moments of self-doubt, and he was thankful to have her encouraging words.

"I would like that," he said just above a whisper.

The hum stopped, suddenly replaced by a sound like a shrill scream. Tercio jerked his hand back as the crystals suddenly changed to a harsh, ugly red, bathing the entire cavern in a crimson light. Then there was a wet, sharp tearing of metal slicing through flesh, and as he turned around he glimpsed Morning Star's head falling to the ground.

There, beside the body of his comrade, stood an earth pony. He was covered from muzzle to tail in thick armor, his face hidden behind a mask of polished silver, and in his mouth he clutched a massive sword that glistened with fresh blood. Red light cast a harsh, dark shadow upon him, his armor glowing like the flames of the underworld, and when he gazed upon Tercio he struck a strong, imposing silhouette.

"M-Morning Star?" Thunderburst said in shock, watching the blood pour from the severed stump of his friend's neck. Overcome by grief, he pulled the gladius from his side and lashed out at the unknown attacker, yelling as he stabbed his sword into the thick chest armor. There the blade stuck, and with a single, powerful strike the assassin severed the right foreleg from his body in a spray of blood and shattered steel. Thunderburst fell to the ground, screaming, clutching at his wound.

Stonewall and Rimeberry were on the attack before Thunderburst could suffer a killing blow, and together they deflected the massive weapon. Stonewall held fast despite his shattered limb and painful wounds, but he knew he was no match for his opponent. With Rimeberry distracting the assassin with a series of furious blows, Stonewall grabbed the now-unconscious Thunderburst's hind leg in his mouth and dragged him away. Rimeberry took a long gash along his side, and he was forced to retreat to protect his wounded comrades. Celestia shouted something to Stonewall, but Tercio could not make out the words over the clashes of combat and the pounding pulse in his ears as he rushed over. He would have to worry about Thunderburst later.

Whoever the large, powerful earth pony was, Tercio thought him surprisingly quick for wielding such a large weapon. He parried and blocked like it was a simple dagger. Any attack he missed simply bounced off his armor, and even as Tercio fought he found the heavy blade carving through the air at his chest. He jumped back, then lunged forward with his long reach to stab at his opponent with his dagger. It may as well have been a toy.

The dagger stuck firmly into the back of the assassin's armor, finding some small gap between plates, and blood seeped out in long rivulets. The big earth pony did not even flinch, and swung his weapon around in a short arc to remove Tercio's head. Tercio ducked and moved back again, barely avoiding having his throat severed.

"Tercio, quickly!" Celestia shouted, levitating the weapon from its sheathe around her neck. Tercio ran toward it as fast as he could, grabbing it out of mid-air with a lunge. The assassin's weapon passed by so close he could feel the wind on the back of his head. He landed roughly on his shoulder, rolling on his side to avoid a killing strike, and hurried back to his feet, placing enough distance between him and his opponent to even the odds -- or so he hoped.

"Fancy sword you've got there," the assassin said, his voice distorted from his face-obscuring mask. Tercio turned the blade in his hand, and it was unlike any sword he'd seen before; three times as long as a gladius and made of the finest steel, sharpened to a nearly perfect edge, just as deadly with slashing attacks as it was with stabbing thrusts. It glowed faintly with an inner yellow light and felt warm to the touch. A beautifully carved, stylized sun -- the same image that graced Celestia's flanks -- was engraved just above the golden hilt. It burned a luminous orange.

Tercio struck out with it, and the weapon seemed to slice the very air itself. Again he lashed out, but the great sword of his opponent countered it.

"Who are you?" Tercio asked, circling the assassin. "What is it you want?"

"Nothing you can provide me, human." He laughed, pulling the dagger from his back. He tossed it aside, where it skidded into a pool of water. "I was told I would likely encounter you. You are even more grotesque than I had heard."

"Petty barbs mean nothing to me, murderer."

"So you say. If you must know, my name is Lacertus Praxis of Canterlot. Slayer of a dozen kings, terror of the Eastwald, the finest mercenary in Equestria. Perhaps you have heard of me?"

"No, but you seem to have quite the high opinion of yourself for a petty sell-sword."

"Petty? You know nothing of me, boy. But it matters little," he said, hefting his weapon, "for soon I will drink the blood of your beloved goddess from your skull!"

Lacertus swung his weapon far more quickly than Tercio had thought possible. It caught him in the shoulder, slicing through his armor strips and gashing open the top of his arm. Tercio immediately struck back with a powerful, hacking slice. The royal sword carved through the face of one of Lacertus' decorative lion pauldrons, leaving it briefly glowing bright red as the blade imparted the heat of the sun with its strike. Lacertus swore loudly.

"You'll pay for that!"

A long, arcing swing came Tercio's way; he dodged to the side and brought the sword down hard. Lacertus deflected the weapon and planted his blade in the ground, using its momentum to swing himself up and around for a vicious buck of his hind legs. Tercio blocked it at the last moment with his buckler shield, only to have it shatter into pieces. The force of the impact threw him back, and as he struggled to regain his footing another strike lanced through the armored leather straps of his pteruges skirt, narrowly missing his thigh.

"For the love of the gods, Krosus, focus!" Stonewall said from the princess' side, where he and Rimeberry were frantically trying to stop Thunderburst's bleeding. Lacertus promised the old imperator that he would be next, once he'd dispatched the repugnant creature before him.

Tercio forced himself to calm down, despite the pain, despite the blood that now ran from multiple places on his body. Lacertus may have had the advantage of raw strength, but his movements, quick though they were for having such a large sword, still could not match the speed and agility Tercio's body provided him. The big earth pony had to swing his weapon using his head and neck, which left very brief gaps where he could not see what was happening. It would have to be enough.

"Are you one of them? The traitors who slaughter our citizens in the streets?" Tercio asked, trying to stall for time, checking over Lacertus' armor for any weak point. It looked as solid as a block of steel.

"A traitor? Ha! Those undisciplined rabble who don their old armor and long for the glory days. They are a useful distraction, a sacrifice."

"For what?"

"For me."

Lacertus swung his weapon wide, cleaving through a cluster of glowing crystals as Tercio jumped back. Sparks shot out from the clashing blades as a series of blows were parried and blocked. Tercio studied the armored assassin intently, finding no obvious place where he could slip his blade through. A rush of adrenaline forced him forward, and he struck a furious string of stabs and slashes. Some of them found their way through Lacertus' defenses, but all were defeated by his armor, leaving only glowing gashes and long scrapes against the hardened steel. A slight opening showed itself, and Tercio kicked at the side of Lacertus' head as hard as he could, sending the other's neck craning back and to the side. In that moment, he brought the sword up and through the black leather and iron plates. It dug deep, but not deep enough, and as Lacertus twisted his head back the sword carried up through his helm and sliced off one of his ears. He gave an angered yell, tossing the glowing, ruined face guard to the ground. A burning, steaming gash, from the bottom of his neck to the tip of his head, dripped blood in long rivulets and streams of crimson. Tercio moved in for another strike, hoping to put an end to the battle, only to have Lacertus spin around and deliver a crushing buck of his powerful hind legs. Tercio was thrown back, his chest armor dented and distorted, and he landed in a pile with the air knocked from his lungs.

"Not bad, human" Lacertus said, wincing in pain. "I may just give you the gift of a quick death after all." Reaching into a pouch along his side, he pulled out a flask of dark, thick liquid. He popped the cork out and poured it down his head, over his bleeding wounds, gritting his teeth as the fluid began to sizzle and bubble. Within seconds the wound was cauterized, his skin fused together with ugly, black lumps of gelatinous liquid and congealed blood.

"Fucking zebras never said it would burn that much," he swore. Bathed in the light of glowing crystals, Tercio finally got a good look at his attacker -- an older face, worn and scarred. A long, pink line ran down his cheek and a close-cut, gray mane stood in sharp contrast to the dark brown of his coat. Lacertus laughed in amusement as Tercio studied him, the jagged scar on his face distorting his smile into a lopsided grin that pulled his face tight on one side.

"She said I might run into you, that Nightmare bitch. Said you were probably a good fighter." He hefted his great sword over his back, its edges shining faintly with silvery runes. "It is not often I compliment a victim, but in this case I think you've earned it. Too bad it's about to mean shit."

"Enough!" Tercio shouted, rushing forward with his sword at his side.

"Yes, I think you're right. Enough."

As Tercio approached Lacertus, weapon held high to deliver a deadly blow, Lacertus uttered a single word.

"Fal'naas."

For a brief moment Tercio staggered, the trigger word blanking his mind like a lightning flash. He stumbled and fell, his helm crashing to the ground beside Lacertus, and as his head slammed against the crystal formations he simply stopped moving.

"Well look at that, it actually worked." Lacertus considered taking Tercio's head right then and there, but decided against it. The princess was still breathing, and Lacertus intended to put an end to that very soon. "Now, Princess Celestia, you and I have some unfinished business. I tell you what: you lie down on the ground and accept what's coming, and I'll make sure you don't feel anything more than is necessary."

"You take one more step toward her and I'll run you right through, traitor!" Stonewall yelled, hefting Rimeberry's buckler in his remaining good foreleg. Rime and Thunderburst were completely helpless from shock and blood loss and, even though Celestia had managed to stop their bleeding, their unconscious forms would not be lifting a sword any time soon.

Lacertus cocked his head, chuckling at the sight of the bloody, broken old stallion before him. He would not even be a threat, and they both knew it. Lacertus suddenly broke into a sprint, charging the distance between them, and hefted his sword around for a powerful strike. Stonewall lifted his small shield up, but it was a futile gesture against the mighty swing of the great sword. It shattered into splinters of iron and wood, and the massive blade carried through as if nothing had stood in its way at all, severing Stonewall's foreleg above the knee. Stonewall gasped at the cold, sharp blade cleanly cutting away his limb, and as he fell to the ground he looked into Lacertus' eyes and saw only hatred. The menacing assassin raised his weapon once more, but something caught his attention. A sword flew through the air wrapped in a sheen of yellow magic, slicing a deep gash into the flank of Lacertus' armor that burned red-hot.

"You get away from them right this instant!" Celestia shouted, sword levitating before her. She stepped forward and sliced the air just in front of him, narrowly missing his exposed, bloodied face. "Stop this madness and surrender yourself to our custody, Lacertus Praxis of Canterlot."

Lacertus growled at the searing pain along his side.

"I gave you the chance to end your life with dignity, Princess. Now I am going to see to it that you die screaming, begging at my hooves."

"You are a monster," Celestia answered defiantly, "and if you truly do this on behalf of my sister, then you have been lied to. She cares only for herself now."

"I don't give two shits about you or your sister and your petty squabbles."

"What did she promise you? Gold? Fame? A place at her side?" Celestia asked, watching nervously as Imperator Stonewall pulled himself up against a rock and began wrapping a tourniquet around his bleeding stump with torn lengths of his cloak. Lacertus looked in his direction, but obviously didn't consider him to be a threat.

"Something much simpler than any of those things, Your Highness: the pleasure of watching you die before me."

Pushing himself off with his powerful hind legs, Lacertus sprung off a stalagmite with his weapon clutched in his mouth. Celestia jumped to the side with a flap of her wings, bringing her sword around to counter attack, but it found only air. Lacertus was up and moving before she could recover, missing her neck by mere inches. She stabbed the gleaming weapon out in a decisive thrust, carving through the steel and leather armor and plunging into the knee of his right hind leg. Lacertus yelled and delivered a series of crushing blows, each one meeting the royal weapon with a clash of steel and a flash of magical energies that lit the cave for the blink of an eye. For the first time since he'd arrived, he truly had to focus on his target. Celestia was far more adept with a blade than he'd thought, but he remained confident -- she had to have a weakness, everyone did. He just had to find it. Briefly his weapon glowed yellow, and he could feel it yanking away from his grip. He bit down on it harder, the magical runes countering Celestia's power.

"Nice try, bitch," he muttered.

A split-second later he was tearing through the air from a blast of light and fury directed from the tip of Celestia's horn. The heat burned his skin and singed his short mane before his back smashed into a cluster of crystals, shredding them apart and scattering their remains across the ground like a thousand shards of glass. The impact left him dazed for the briefest of moments, and Celestia shot out her sword across the cavern in an attempt to end the fight. It scraped across Lacertus' armor, and he stuck out a hoof and trapped it against the ground. His great sword glowed silver and, in a single, massive strike, he shattered the magical weapon into pieces. It died with a flash of orange and yellow, and he kicked the hilt into a pool of water.

Now without a weapon, Celestia felt helpless as the assassin stood back up, limping toward her, with the tip of his blade dragging along the ground. She lowered her head and unleashed another blast of magical energy, but Lacertus was prepared and blocked the beam with the broad side of his sword. Again she tried, and again there was no effect. She looked around for somewhere to go to, but the ceiling was not high enough to fly.

"Come now, Princess," he taunted, "surely you see that further struggle is pointless! All of your vaunted praetorians are dead or dying. No one is coming to your aid." Another burst of light and heat was sent his way. "That fancy magic shit isn't going to save you!"

Lacertus galloped forward, swinging his weapon at Celestia's neck. She disappeared in a flash, reappearing some distance behind him, where she picked up a fallen gladius and struck out with it immediately. It clanged off his back armor, then off his chest. As he turned around she aimed it directly for his face, where it connected with a wet impact and tore away a large chunk of his left cheek.

"You fucking bitch!" he slurred as blood seeped into his mouth. A follow-up from Celestia was blocked by his greatsword, and the gladius dug itself into his thick chest armor and came to a stop. It jiggled in place as she tried to yank it back out, and Lacertus was immediately upon her, far faster than he'd moved since being wounded. Furious, angered blows rained down around her, slicing through crystals and spires of stone and gouging deep gashes in the floor as she barely avoided each attack. She knew she was running out of space, but she was too exhausted, too drained, to focus enough magic to teleport out of harm's way. She turned to try and run back toward Stonewall, desperate for help, and that was when the great sword found her at last. It carved into her shoulder, tore through the flesh of her side, and cut a horrible wound all the way down to the sun on her flank. With a scream she collapsed against the semi-reflective walls, tears in her eyes from the pain that shot through her like the very soul of a raging fire.

Then she heard it. The horrible, familiar yell, the pounding of footsteps rapidly approaching. Lacertus turned to look, and in that very moment Tercio was upon him. They went sprawling to the ground as Tercio tackled the assassin with all of his might, skidding to a stop near the edge of a clear pool of water.

Lacertus' eyes were wide at the sight of the human atop him, and he instictively swung his sword around. It stopped in mid-air as Tercio grabbed onto the long hilt that protruded from Lacertus' mouth with both hands, and with a shout he ripped it away. Shattered teeth and streamers of blood flew through the air. Lacertus screamed in torment.

With no weapon left to fight with, Lacertus tried to slide back, away from the rampaging prateorian that roared with blood lust like an angry lion. Tercio grabbed him by his mane and slammed his head into the ground, over and over, an unrelenting rage screaming through every fiber of his being, then held Lacertus underwater up to his neck. Lacertus thrashed and kicked his legs, water filling his lungs, desperately hoping to get Tercio to stop his attack, but his armored hooves found only unrelenting steel. With one hand Tercio reached for Lacertus' neck and squeezed as hard as he could. He could feel the muscles flexing against his palm, and he dug his fingers into the flesh hard enough to draw blood. The sight of it pushed him on, until it was all he could focus on, and with a terrible shout he clenched his fist together with all the strength he had within him, tearing Lacertus' throat out in an arterial spray of bright red blood.

The assassin thrashed for a few seconds more, and then it was over.

Now lying on her side, her vision growing blurry, Celestia had seen the entire thing. Tercio stood up from his kill, covered in blood, and locked eyes with her.

"Please..." she whispered, "remember who you are."

Celestia closed her eyes , feeling so exhausted she couldn't have ever imagined it, and, before her sight turned dark, heard only the sound of approaching footsteps.

13 - Recovery

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felnaris dismissed the idea with a shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, the ponies simply disappeared.

Corvalix gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Barrier squad is dead!"

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

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

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

The wounded commander clutched his chest, his breathing heavy.

"We should retreat..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Luna..."

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

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

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

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

Imperator Stonewall. He'd survived after all.

"Mmmn...Stonewall?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And what of the citizens?"

"Civilian losses are...higher."

"How much higher?"

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

"Stonewall? How much higher?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was about to ask you the same."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes?"

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

Celestia tapped her chin with a hoof.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I suppose so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stonewall clicked his cane on the floor.

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

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

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

"As you wish, My Princess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

14 - A Shared Sunset

Far off from the confines of Canterlot's great walls, at the foot of the Bridle Ridge mountains the capital city had clung to for the last two centuries, a small collection of buildings glowed orange in the flickering light of dozens of torches, like muted flashes against the star-studded night sky. They were old, far older than the grand city towering above, their dark onyx stonework now crumbling and run through with growing mosses. Unused for countless years, little remained of their ancient glory save for a few rough-hewn walls and beaten stone paths. Once, they had held significance to passing ponies and travelers from far-off lands; now, only the Praetorians of Canterlot's standing military visited their old foundations.

In the center of the once-great courtyard a gathering of soldiers in ceremonial armor stood at attention, their numbers now a scant four dozen of a force that, until a few weeks ago, had numbered nearly eighty. They stood in rows of four across and two deep, their cloaks flowing behind them in the gusty winds. At the end of each row a pair of crested helms marked the places of honor their fallen brethren held, mementos of the lives they had lost.

Before the gathered formation, Imperator Stonewall hobbled along the stone walkway that led to a raised platform covered with golden laurels and flags of the Praetorian Guard and Equestria. His left foreleg hung uselessly at his side, a reminder of the battle that had so shaken Canterlot over two weeks prior. He supported one side of his body with a carved, ornately decorated cane; the other, with a wooden replacement that now served as his right foreleg, secured to his mangled stump with leather straps and iron buckles. For a time he stood before his gathered soldiers in silence, looking over them as a father looks over his children.

"For thirty generations we Praetorians have guarded the sovereign rulers of Equestria! For thirty generations we have fought, and bled, and died, that others may live in peace! We, the finest of our nation's military might! Yet, until a fortnight past, never had we suffered an assault on our beloved homes. In a singular moment we saw the worst equinity has to offer, a band of traitors and murderers who killed without mercy or thought, driven by a fanatical devotion to the fallen princess of the night. For three nights we battled them, rooting them out of their holes and driving them before the blade, and in the end we were victorious, just as we have always been, and just as we will always be!"

He dropped the volume of his voice, now heavy with loss.

"Our victory, sadly, came at a great cost. Thirty of our brothers lost their lives in defense of Princess Celestia, Canterlot, and its people. To the last they fought with courage and honor, often in the face of overwhelming odds, and without their sacrifice we may not have held the city when all was said and done. Of the lost, we honor first the ten who served with distinction for years, even decades, as faithful Praetorian brothers and comrades-in-arms."

A young earth pony approached the platform, cradling a purple-crested, golden helm at his side. He set it down before the Imperator, then returned to his place in the formation.

"Before the gods new and old, we honor the lives and memories of our kin. When Equestria called on them, they did not falter nor hesitate to give their lives for those they cared about. Exemplary, each of them. May they find peace in the Great Beyond, now and forever."

"Now and forever," the gathered soldiers echoed.

The earth pony returned once more, with a silver helm this time.

"We Praetorians are a proud bunch," Stonewall continued. "Few are selected, and fewer still see the day they may call themselves 'Praetorian'. Yet even an aspiring soldier can show great feats of courage and dedication. So it is with the twenty recruits who died in battle, fighting side-by-side with their seniors, each a veteran soldier in his own right. Through their actions they proved themselves to be true to the cause and to each other, and so I hereby grant them the title of Praetorian in service of Equestria. May they find peace in the Great Beyond, now and forever."

"Now and forever." The soldiers bowed their heads in reverence, offering a moment of silence and prayer for their lost brothers.

"Recruits Thunderburst, Rimeberry and Krosus, I would ask that you approach and take a knee."

Tercio and his comrades looked at each other for a moment, then fell out of formation and took their places before their commanding officer. Each of them showed lasting wounds from the battle -- Rimeberry's jagged scar down his side, still pink with mending flesh. Thunderburst's wooden leg, a near match to Stonewall's. Tercio's weakened arm and torso, both covered in deep gashes that remained wrapped in bandages under his ceremonial armor.

"The soldiers you see before you fought at my side in Princess Celestia's defense. For a time we held the throne room against a large, desperate force of traitors and fanatics, but they were too many in number. Venerin fell after a courageous final stand, allowing the rest of us time to get the Princess to safety. For this, we owe him our eternal gratitude. Morning Star, as fine a soldier as I have ever seen, was slain by an assassin's blade. Such a waste of a good stallion."

Stonewall frowned.

"A fierce fighter, this sell-sword was. Even though we outnumbered him four to one, he managed to inflict terrible wounds on all of us, and I do not know if any of us would still live if not for the bravery of the soldiers you see kneeling before you. And so, with the blessing of the Princess herself, I hereby bestow upon Decanus Thunderburst, Decanus Rimeberry, and Centurion Krosus the title of Praetorian in Celestia's service!"

One by one Tercio and the others bowed their heads, allowing Stonewall and his assistant to remove their old helms and replace them with custom-created golden replacements, topped with crests of royal purple. Matching cloaks were soon affixed to their backs and shoulders.

"You won't be needing this anymore, Krosus," Stonewall said as he folded the golden fabric of the old Royal Guard unit Tercio had not seen in months. "Congratulations, you're one of us now. I thought it would be fitting if I showed you this before you wear it." He held out the purple material, letting it unfold and sway in the wind. In the center, a red and gold silhouette of a charging bull stood out against the dark background.

"Back when Equestria was young," he explained, "the bull was a symbol of tenacity in battle and of unrelenting strength. Given your particular method of destroying the assassin, Lacertus, I'd say it's only fitting. Just don't let it go to your head. Understood?"

Tercio nodded. "Yes, sir, I'm honored. Thank you."

"Mmm. Don't think this lets you off the hook. I've still got my eye on you and your gangly limbs...but perhaps you've earned a slight bit of leeway. For now."

Stonewall stepped back, putting his wooden leg to his chest.

"Honor to the Princess!"

"Honor to the Princess," the three praetorians answered in return.

"Congratulations. You are truly brothers in battle now." He raised his voice to the assembled crowd. "A salute to our newest kin! Honor to the Princess!"

"Honor to the Princess!"

Tercio raised his head and looked out across the center, a swelling of pride and accomplishment forming a lump in his throat. Through the spilling of blood, his and his enemy's, he had earned his right to be called "Praetorian". He only wished his brother and parents could be among the crowd.

Princess Celestia sat upon her dais in the warmth of the mid-morning's sun, reading over the many scrolls and papers that had gathered there since the previous night. She had been staring at the same one for many minutes, her mind elsewhere. It was not, for once, filled with worry and dread. In truth, it was the first time since the start of the war that she felt some small sense of normal life returning to Canterlot -- the Whitetail armies were steadily being driven out of Equestria, the capitol city had been repaired, and the citizens of Equestria had shown remarkable determination in the face of such a horrific attack. They were strong in mind and spirit, no less eager to help their fellow pony. With all of the death and destruction and sadness that had swept her nation, she could hardly remember the last time she'd simply...relaxed.

"Rosewise," Celestia called out, "may I see you for a moment?"

Her assistant trotted around the corner, dressed in a ruby-colored shawl with a matching hair band.

"Yes, Princess? Can I help you?"

"Rose, when was the last time we hosted a celebratory event? Nothing too large, like a royal ball. Just something smaller."

"Oh. Hmm..." She tapped a hoof to her chin as she thought, her emerald eyes affixed on the ground. "To be honest, I can't properly remember. Four, maybe five months past? Before Princess Luna, umm..." she trailed off, not wanting to bring up such a hurtful memory.

"It's alright, you can say it. Before she was banished."

"Right. I think that may have been the last time. It was, if I recall correctly, a nice dinner for six of your guests. Senators from Whitetail, I believe."

"That sounds about right," Celestia nodded. "If only we'd known then what we know now, hmm? Regardless, I believe we're long overdue for something to take our minds off all of this."

"Of course, Princess. What did you have in mind?"

Celestia levitated a length of parchment, along with a quill and ink, from a desk at the corner of the room. She began to write, taking care to properly spell out names and make the writing legible and regal -- just as she had practiced so many times before.

"I would like you to invite these guests, please. There are not many, but I believe a small celebration will go a long way towards returning a bit of joy, and perhaps even a little hope."

Rosewise glanced over the list, making a note of each name.

"And what of this last name? It appears you've separated it from the rest."

Celestia smiled softly.

"That is someone I would like to invite prior to the main event. I believe I owe him my life. I know it's short notice, but would you be able to set up a small dinner for two? Nothing opulent, of course."

It was indeed short notice, less than twelve hours away. There would be much to order and arrange. Rosewise rolled the scroll and tucked it under a foreleg.

"Princess, in twenty-two years I have not let you down even once, and I don't intend to start now."

"Hold still, Krosus, or you're going to look like you just lost a fight with a timberwolf."

Imperator Stonewall stood on his hind legs, attempting to secure the fabric fasteners that lined the side of Tercio's off-white tunic. A vertical stripe of purple ran down each shoulder, denoting the human as a newly-christened praetorian. The fabric was a comfortable if simple dyed wool, and Tercio was thankful he wouldn't be forced to wear his ceremonial armor for the occasion.

"Apologies, sir," Tercio said as he looked himself over in a large mirror. He was clean-shaven and his hair was neatly cut to military specifications, and he approved of the cut of the tunic that now adorned his body. The tailor had done an excellent job with his unique frame.

"It's not 'sir' anymore, Krosus. You're a praetorian now, you can knock off that 'sir' shit."

"Uh, right. Sorry, sir--erm, Stonewall."

Calling his commanding officer by his name still felt odd, like a decade's worth of training was fighting back at the very thought of it. It was all so...informal.

"You'll get used to it." Stonewall tapped Tercio's waist. "Other side."

"So if we're all on a first-name basis, you don't have to address me as 'Krosus' anymore, correct?"

Stonewall grunted with a length of fabric in his teeth.

"Suppose so. Old habits die hard. Besides, sometimes you have to be reminded who's in charge here, despite the touchy-feely nonsense this first-name thing is supposed to promote. You're still Krosus to me. Best you get used to it."

"Already am...sir."

For the first time, Tercio saw Stonewall chuckle, however briefly.

"There may be hope for you yet, Krosus." He tugged at the last loop of material, swearing to himself as it refused to tie off. "Times like this I wish I was a prick-headed unicorn. All that fancy magic shit probably comes in handy."

"I wouldn't know."

"Of course you wouldn't, you're practically an earth pony yourself. Better than having your head in the clouds or buried in an arcane tome. Hokey ancient magic is no match for a good blade at your side and the strength to drive it home, if you ask me." Tercio hadn't asked, but by now he'd learned to let the old stallion have his ramblings. It meant less sweating and swearing for everyone else. "Alright, that's done. I trust you can do the rest yourself."

"I should hope so."

With his tunic neatly in place, Tercio grabbed the long toga from his storage closet and draped it over himself, leaving his right shoulder and chest uncovered to show the honorary stripe beneath it. He ran a hand down the fabric, far softer and smoother than his woolen undergarment, making sure no dust or dirt clung to him. The toga fell down to his knees, nearly to the top of his strapped leather sandals. He carried no sword or helm, not even a provision belt. His only weapon was a small blade, more of a knife than anything, strapped to his upper leg in a leather holster. Praetorians had to be armed at all times, as the ancient mandate stated, but no one was in a particular hurry to bring their swords and shields to a dinner party.

"Would you mind if I asked you a question?" Tercio prodded as he made some last-minute adjustments to his formal wear.

"That depends on the topic."

"Have you ever dined with the princess? Or any royalty?"

"I have," Stonewall said with a quick nod, "many years ago. I was invited by both of the princesses to join them for food and drink, back when I was about your rank. Maybe a bit younger. They wanted to congratulate me on my quick rise through the Guard, as well as my contributions against the wild plains-dwellers to the south. Nasty bunch, they were."

"And how was it?"

Stonewall shrugged. "It was dinner. Food was good, wine was good. To be honest I don't remember most of the two or three hours in question."

"Because you were drunk?"

"Drunk? Ha. No, not exactly. Because I spent the entire time staring at Celestia and Luna in slack-jawed reverence. At least, that's what it felt like. They tell me I was quite talkative, but I'll be damned if I can remember what I said. The one thing that stands out is just how incredibly beautiful they were. It was the first time I'd seen either of them up close. I'll never forget it." He laughed and added, "funny thing about nigh-immortal goddesses -- they don't look a day older after all those years. Shame about Luna. I always fancied her, however ridiculous the notion may have been."

Stonewall seemed lost in thought for a moment, then stood up straight and nodded sharply to Tercio.

"Right, that's enough story-telling from a grumpy old fuck like me. You have a date with the princess! Now get going, royalty doesn't like to wait."

"Thank you for your help, Stonewall," Tercio said with a slight bow. "Any advice before I head out?"

"Just remember that you represent the Praetorians when you're there. This is a singularly high honor, you need to treat it as such. Don't make yourself look like an ass, or I'll find out. Oh, and have a good time. That's an order."

"Mr. Tercio! I'm so glad to see you've made it. Please, follow me."

Tercio did as he was asked, keeping behind the polite, middle-aged mare as she led him down a series of hallways. They passed the throne room, then continued through a simple wooden door that opened to an elegant kitchen and storage area. An older stallion in an apron was waiting as Tercio rounded the corner, flanked on either side by a pair of ponies in matching outfits.

"Hello," Tercio said politely, bowing slightly in respect. "I must admit I wasn't expecting some sort of...honor guard."

The old stallion laughed with a shake of his head.

"Honor guard? No, no, nothing of the sort. I am the princess' personal cook, Silver Platter, and these are my assistants. Would I be correct in assuming you're the guest of honor for tonight?"

"Oh, sorry. Uh, yes. I was told Princess Celestia called on me."

"So it would seem. I will not delay you any longer, I simply wished to introduce myself. If there is anything -- anything at all -- that you would like us to make, by all means, let us know. We will do our best to make it happen."

Tercio thanked them and carried on, ignoring the whispers that the assistants were no-doubt using to talk about how strange he looked. After more than thirty years he'd grown used to it; it was to be expected when you were different from every other living being on the planet. At least most ponies didn't outright insult him for it.

The kitchen hallway opened into a large, circular room with a vaulted ceiling and carved limestone pillars. The last light of the setting sun peeked through the colorful frescoes that lined the walls, images of old Equestrian history forever kept in glass and bronze.

At the opposite end of the room there was a tall pair of frosted glass and wrought iron doors. Vague shapes were visible through them, and only when Tercio stepped through them did he realize where he was.

"Here we are," Rosewise said cheerfully. She offered the way forward with a hoof, and Tercio stepped out onto the terrace that hung from the side of the castle's largest tower. Immediately he was struck by the view -- he could see for countless miles all around, from the distant plains of the south to the forested northern expanses that remained mostly unexplored to this day. Banisters wrapped around the edge of the tiled terrace, topped with glittering orbs of polished amber. Throw pillows of red, gold and purple sat in small piles next to carved wooden stands that held bronze bowls overflowing with fruit. It took his breath away, the most regal place he'd ever seen.

"Hello, Tercio," Celestia's familiar voice said from just off to his right. The ruler of Equestria sat comfortably on a large cushion next to a low table, and she smiled warmly as Tercio approached.

"My Princess," he said with a salute. "It's good to see you again, under much more favorable circumstances."

"It's good to see you, too." She motioned to the opposite end of the table. "Please, sit down."

As Tercio sank into the large, obviously expensive cushion, Rosewise trotted to his side and cheerily asked what he would like to start off with.

"I...honestly could not say. I've never dined with royalty before," he laughed. "I think I shall bow to the Princess' superior judgment."

"How about a simple Zevran appetizer?" Celestia asked. Rosewise smiled and turned smartly, closing the large doors behind her as she went to relay the request to the cooks. For the second time in as many months, Tercio found himself alone with the sovereign of Equestria.

"Thank you for coming, Tercio," Celestia said. "I'm glad you could attend. I trust it was not too much of a problem to free yourself for a few hours?"

"For my Princess, I am always at the ready," Tercio answered confidently. "If you wish my company, I am more than happy to oblige. Such is a Praetorian's duty."

Celestia arched an eyebrow, then laughed quietly.

"I see you spoke with Stonewall before coming here. Would I be correct in that assumption?"

"Well..."

"I should have expected as much. I'm sure he filled your head with talk of 'upholding the honor of Equestria' and 'representing the Praetorians' and the like, but really, you needn't worry about such things here. It's okay to simply relax and drop that stuffy bearing. You're not on duty, after all, you're having a meal. I would much prefer company that's talkative and laid-back to a guard detail."

Tercio worked his jaw up and down as he tried to find the words, then gave up with a chuckle.

"My apologies, Princess. Imperator Stonewall is quite clear in his words. This transition between years of military drill and ceremony, and a much more casual attitude as of late, is taking some getting used to. I still call Stonewall 'sir'." He allowed himself to relax with a deep breath, leaning against a stack of pillows that supported his back. "I suppose our first meeting wasn't exactly an exchange of strategies between generals, was it?"

"No, I would say not. It was nice to simply talk," she answered with a smile. "So, how are you fairing? Do your wounds still bother you?"

"Thankfully not. At least, for the most part. It is occasionally still tender when I touch my ribs or my right arm, but I'd say it's naught but an annoyance at this point." Tercio glanced at Celestia's side, noticing that it showed no signs of scarring from the vicious attack she'd lived through. "And what of you? If I may ask, of course."

"I am glad to say I'm back to my healthy, pre-assassination attempt self. The apothecaries even managed to heal my scars away completely, thanks to some very dedicated ponies with an affinity for medicinal spells."

A slight breeze rustled the sheer, white and gold fabric of her formal gown and the warm, yellow shawl that hung over her shoulder and across her chest. Her mane and tail, previously faded and lacking its usual sheen, billowed gently of its own unseen wind, sparkling in the fading remnants of daylight that peeked over the mountains.

Tercio caught himself beginning to stare, and blinked himself back to reality -- hopefully before she could notice.

"Well, I am glad to hear you're doing better, Princess. And might I say, you look absolutely lovely."

She smiled back and tipped her head in his direction.

"Thank you, you're too kind. You look quite ravishing in your formal attire as well. That's a very nice toga."

"My mother made it many years ago, she would be glad to hear it," he laughed. "But yes, thank you. Truth be told, I have not worn it since my induction into the Royal Guard, nearly five years ago. It's held up nicely, I think."

Rosewise returned moments later, carrying a tray of fluffy, dark bread, a tall jug of liquid, and a small platter of some sort of wrapped leaf. She set the trays down, bowed curteously, and she was gone once more.

"Have you ever had Zevran quisine?" Celestia asked as she floated a silvery fork and knife to her tray.

"I have not, though I hear it's...it's quite good." Tercio took his own silverware and stabbed one of the dark green, oily leaf bundles. He looked at it as if it were alive, unsure of what to make of it.

"The zebras make some wonderful food. This is one of my favorites, a light appetizer that won't fill you up before the main course." She lifted a wrapped leaf off the tray, then sliced it down the middle. A thick, yellow liquid dripped out and revealed the collection of fine-grain rices and greenery contained within.

"This is k'wal'e, a kind of all-in-a-pot curry wrapped up in grape leaves. The ingredients vary, but it's always rice and assorted vegetables. It's meant to be eaten with this sweet molasses bread."

Celestia daintily sliced a piece of bread from the loaf, wrapped it around the curry mixture, and slid it into her mouth. When she didn't immediately keel over, Tercio decided to try it for himself. No matter how he tried, the bread simply would not yield to his knife. He muttered to himself, much to Celestia's amusement.

"It takes some practice. But please, don't worry about such things. It's perfectly fine to use your hooves -- or hands."

He settled for simply tearing off a piece, then cautiously took a bite. The food itself was nothing to look at, but the flavor seemed to explode in his mouth. Slightly sweet, a little spicy, with an earthy aftertaste.

"Consider me surprised," he said after he'd swallowed it down. "This is quite good."

"I thought you might like it. A visiting dignitary from the Zevran Tribal Lands brought some with him, many years back. It was one of Luna's favorites, and she's quite a picky eater. Was a picky eater, I should say." A shadow of sadness crossed Celestia's face for a brief moment, and then it was gone.

"I'm sorry, it's still quite hard sometimes," she apologized.

"There is no need to be, I would feel the same way. In your position I'm not sure I could have kept my head as high as you have. You show remarkable courage, Princess."

"I try to. Life in Equestria does not simply stop because I mourn my sister, and its citizens all have concerns of their own. It would be selfish of me to simply lock myself away from the world." She took another wrapped curry and finished it, then poured a glass of amber-colored liquid for both of them. "But, today is not a day for such things. Today is a day of celebration, in your honor." She lifted her crystal glass and held it over the table; it bobbed lightly in a field of yellow magic. "To our newest Praetorian, Tercio Krosus. May you live a good life, my friend."

"And you as well, Princess. Thank you," Terco replied, clinking his glass against hers. "And, if I may: to my brothers in battle. They will be missed."

He tipped his glass back and took a drink of the amber liquid. It was sweet and refreshing, with an alcoholic bite at the back of his throat.

"Amasec. Very good amasec, at that," he said, swirling it in his hand.

"You know your wine. I take it you're a fan?"

"Occasionally. I've really only had it a few times, but never like this."

"The best in Equestria. I'm glad you approve."

"Very much so," he laughed, downing the remainder of his drink. "May I?" He motioned to the jug.

"Be my guest."

Tercio poured a drink and sat back, cradling the glass in his hands.

"I wanted to say thank you for the beautiful cloak, while I'm thinking of it. I'm honored that you would have such a thing made for me."

"You did save my life, after all," Celestia answered, "so I thought you deserved something special for it."

"Not that I would turn such a gift down, but I was not the only one at your side that day."

"Of course. All of you were very brave, and I'm glad to have had each and every one of you protecting me, but it was you that defeated the assassin, Lacertus. What's more, even though he used that word to try and tip the scales in his favor, you retained enough control to not harm a fellow Equestrian. I can't thank you enough for what you did."

"I am glad I could do my job, Princess. Getting to talk with you over a lovely meal and some fine amasec is far more than I could have hoped for."

The double doors swung open once more, and Rosewise led a trio of ponies that held large trays on their backs. One by one they slid the food onto the table, a veritable feast for the senses. There was fruit paste and sliced cheese in a stone bowl, a pasta dish with a citrus and herb drizzle, small sandwiches of feta and cucumber, and, for the centerpiece, an entire pumpkin stuffed with a thick, hearty vegetable stew.

"My dear Silver, you have truly outdone yourself. Thank you so much for this wonderful food."

"My pleasure, Princess," the cook said. "Please, enjoy yourselves."

Tercio had never seen so much food in one place; he hardly knew where to begin.

"Any recommendations, Princess?"

"Most of this is new to me, so I really couldn't say. I suppose we'll find out together, won't we?" She smiled warmly.

"I suppose we will. Right, then. Mares first, Your Highness."

"Please, call me Celestia. It's rare I hear my own name these days."

"Very well...Celestia."

Tercio waited for her to take her choice of the food, then scooped some stew into a bowl with a few small sandwich slices on the side. It was the best stew he'd ever tasted.

"Gods have mercy," he chuckled after his first spoonful. "I do hope my mother will forgive me for saying this is far better than anything I've had in many years."

"It will be our secret," Celestia said, blowing lightly on her own portion to cool it down. "Truly magnificent. Silver Platter is the best cook I've had in ages. I can hardly even boil a potato at the best of times, I swear."

"That makes two of us."

"Speaking of which, how is your family doing? I have not had the pleasure of your parents' company for far too long, I'm afraid. I believe they were Roughshod and...Glittering Grace?"

"Glimmering Grace," Tercio corrected her. "I have not seen them since before the war began, though mother does send letters once in a while. They are well, but they worry for the safety of myself and my brother. After the attack on Canterlot she was nearly frantic with worry, but I've at least managed to reassure her that I'm okay in my own letters back." He took a long drink of his amasec, then said, "I have not told them what happened. The fighting, the loss of Venerin and Morning Star, the...change...that overcame me against Lacertus. Mother and father are getting older, and I worry that too much stress could cause undue harm."

"It sounds like you care for them very much."

"Of course. They took me in when they had no obligation to do so, some sort of...strange child though I was. I had quite a rough childhood, as you can imagine." He cast his eyes down and idly rubbed his thumb across his glass. "Children can be very cruel, as can adults. I never felt like I truly belonged in Equestria, but my adoptive parents worked their hardest to make sure I had a loving home and a warm meal to come home to every day. I owe them the world."

Tercio let out a deep breath and laughed to himself.

"My apologies, it's just something that is as clear now as it was then. I have far more fond memories than sad ones, and I'm quite thankful for that. The sad ones simply seem to be more vivid."

Celestia smiled reassuringly, but it soon became the slightest hint of a frown.

"I understand completely. I have lived a long time, and I will live many more years to come, I hope, and in those years I have seen some terrible things. Criminals, famine -- war. But the single most horrible moment of my life was being forced to banish my own sister. It will be a very, very long time before she returns..."

"I'm sorry," Tercio said. "I never got the chance to meet Princess Luna in person, but I'd always admired the both of you from afar. She seemed like a wonderful mare."

"She was. Kind, generous, beautiful...until she became corrupted by jealousy and anger. But let's not focus on the negative, hmm? I would much rather hear about the good times." Celestia set her drink down and adjusted herself against the cushion. "What of your brother? What was it like growing up with a pegasus as a human?"

"Oh, where to begin? To this day I envy his ability to fly. He's always taken good care of me and stood up for me, especially before I was tall enough to stand up for myself against the barbs and bullying that came from the other children. I am truly thankful for him. Of course, my brother and I have had our share of perilous moments in our lives, mostly thanks to our own childish curiosity when we were younger. There are far too many to tell, though one in particular stands out: the night we stole our way into a neighbor's orchard to get at his fruit trees."

Celestia floated a small serving of pasta to her plate and smiled.

"Do tell."

"Very well, though I'm sure my experiences pale in comparison with yours."

"If there's one thing I've learned over the last several hundred years, Tercio, it's that everyone has a story worth telling."

"Right. Well, this was many years ago, obviously. I was probably...twelve? Thirteen? Something like that. Even at that age I was as tall as most stallions. Anyway, we were quite bored one night, and Victus had the idea to sneak into our neighbor's farm -- Applewood, I think was his name. Of course, being young and full of more bravery than intelligence, I thought it was a great idea."

Celestia laughed. "That sounds familiar."

"So in the early hours of the morning, well before sunrise, Victus and I hopped the fence into Applewood's orchard. We must have eaten ten pounds of peaches and apples that night! They were perfectly ripe and juicy, and we spent oh, two hours or so out there just talking about colt things. You know...what we wanted to be when we grew up, the kind of mares we were going to inevitably marry and have ten kids in a large house with, things like that. It was a great time."

"I'm assuming there's an 'and then' coming up..."

"You would be right! We were having a great time, and then...Mr. Applewood decided to take a late-night stroll through the orchard."

"Oh, dear."

"That was my reaction, albeit far more surprised and with a few words of foul language! When the farmer came tromping into the field, we had nowhere to hide. We attempted to take cover behind a large apple tree, but Victus' damn tail was still sticking out like a blonde duster, and Applewood happened to see it. He called Victus to come out, but I don't think he saw me. We were scared out of our wits! At that moment, I came up with a plan that, in hindsight, could have ended very poorly had Mr. Applewood been armed."

"Which was...?"

"I decided to cover my face in and arms in mud, wait for the farmer to get near us, and then jump out and scare him. Flawless!"

Celestia giggled at the thought.

"What in the world would make you want to do that?"

"I don't know, I was a child. It seemed like a good idea at the time!"

"Did you succeed in your daring plan?" she asked between sips.

"I did! I jumped out from behind that tree, arms raised, and roared with all the fury my pre-pubescent voice could muster. The poor stallion fell backwards, and it gave us enough time to make our escape. Unfortunately, I am the only human that I know, and when Mr. Applewood realized he'd just been terrorized by a strange-looking child it wasn't difficult to make the connection. He informed our parents the next morning. I would have been upset with getting in trouble, but I was too busy being sick from eating my own body weight in peaches and apples."

They laughed together, and Tercio found it very good to relax for the first time in many days. With the orange and pink sunset, the wonderful food, and Celestia's company, he regretted that he would eventually have to go back to reality, and the grind of military life.

"So yes, that's my story. I'm sure I could think of many more, but the wine dulls my thoughts. Pleasantly so, of course."

Tercio lifted his plate to grab another helping, but Celestia was already floating it over. He thanked her and stabbed into the cheese and fruit paste, finding it just as good as everything else he'd had that night.

"It sounds like you and Victus are quite close."

"We were," he nodded. "Unfortunately, age and careers have caused us to not be in contact nearly as much as we'd like. With my service in the Praetorian Guard, and his in the Legion, we are often on opposite sides of the country. The last I'd heard from him was when he was just about to head off to fight the Whitetail near the Everfree forest. It's been several weeks since then, and I've not received word on his health. I like to hope he is simply too busy to write, but part of me cannot help but fear the worst."

"I will see if I can locate news for you, but Victus sounds like a strong stallion. You'll see each other soon, I'm sure of it."

Tercio looked towrd the distant mountains to the west -- somewhere out there, far beyond their mighty peaks, Victus was pushing the Whitetail menace back. He wished he could be in two places at once.

Sensing his mood becoming weary, Celestia quickly changed the subject.

"So tell me, Mr. Tercio, is there a mare in your life? Somepony who waits for you to return after the war has ended?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, no, nothing like that," he laughed quietly. "Most of my time is spent in the barracks or around the castle. Occasionally I'll travel down to Canterlot proper, but no, I have not exactly been a busy man in that regard. Between my job and my, ah, unique looks, it's rather hard to find someone who doesn't view me as some sort of, I don't know...adventure, I suppose? I've fancied a few mares in my time, but they always ended up breaking things off after a short while. I think they were just curious more than anything."

He gave a short, humorless laugh.

"Such is my lot in life, being an oddity in this world. My mother, gods bless her, keeps trying to arrange potential marriages with the local mares. I don't begrudge her for it, though I do think it's somewhat old-fashioned. Maybe she's right," he said, shrugging, "and I'm getting too old to not be siring a child. If I'm honest, I don't believe it's even possible for me to do so. Though I'm similar to ponies in some respects, for the most part I am as different as a bear is to a hen."

Celestia thought for a moment, then said, "I don't believe you should give up on finding somepony of your own. Even if you cannot give your mare a child, there is no reason you have to spend your days alone. I'm sure there's someone out there for you, you just have to look for her."

"Maybe," he said distantly, watching the last rays of light fade over the mountain tops. "I am thankful my job keeps me busy, else I might have too much time to dwell on such things." Tercio looked back at Celestia and cocked his head. "What about you, Princ--ah, Celestia? I have noticed there is no prince in Equestria. If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"No, it's fine," she reassured him. "It's sort of...complicated."

"How so? You're the most powerful mare on Earth, you've got hundreds of years of knowledge and experience in all manner of things, and you're incredibly beautiful, if I may be so bold. Surely you have many who call as potential suitors?"

Tercio swore he could see just a hint of a blush, though it may very well have been the soft, pink light of the sunset.

"That's very sweet of you. It's strange to discuss such a thing, but Luna and I received many letters from all over Equestria and beyond. Love-struck stallions -- sometimes even mares -- who had convinced themselves that we were 'meant to be' or 'destined by the stars' or some-such flowery poetry. Nothing ever came from them, of course. Watching over Equestria is something I take very seriously, and it occupies much of my day. With Luna no longer around, I have had to take up double duty and raise and lower the moon in addition to the sun. Such a schedule, as you can probably imagine, leaves little time for a stallion."

Tercio wasn't sure what answer he was expecting, but it seemed odd for someone in her position to be by herself for so long.

"Surely there must have been someone who caught your eye?"

"Just once, many, many years ago. I was still learning to be a princess after my mother and father passed away, and I was feeling very vulnerable. Luna tried to help, but she's younger than myself, and was rightly concerned with finishing her royal education. One day I met a charming stallion -- a unicorn -- who was visiting after the unification of the three races. He was rather plain-looking, but handsome in his own way, and he was incredibly smart. At the time he was the utmost authority on arcane magic in the land, and to this day many of his spells are commonly in use."

Celestia turned her head and focused, slowly bringing the sun below the horizon. Her horn shined like a thousand points of starlight, bathing the terrace in a warm glow.

"For some time we saw each other, though only on his visits to the old castle that now lies unused in the Everfree forest. I enjoyed his company, and he enjoyed mine, and for a while it seemed all would be well."

The moon now rose until it just peeked over the hills. Celestia closed her eyes and, with a final surge of magic, set the moon on its gradual, graceful arc through the sky.

"So what happened?" Tercio asked, downing the remainder of his glass.

"His work on the arcane arts took its toll. Magic was still very much an unknown medium back in those days, and during the autumn of that year he made a terrible mistake: he cast what turned out to be an aging spell on himself. In a matter of weeks he went from a healthy stallion in the prime of his life to a fragile shell of his former self. With Luna's help we eventually found a counter-spell, but it was far too late."

She closed her eyes and frowned deeply at the memory.

"The stallion I cared for so much had doomed himself to an early death. He lived another couple of years, too ashamed to see me again, and spent all of his time in solitude, until one day he simply...passed away."

"I'm sorry. That sounds terrible." Tercio set his glass on the table, feeling more than a little guilty for bringing up such an old wound.

"No, it's alright. It was a very long time ago. Time heals all wounds, even those that we think will never stop hurting. So it is with my dear, old Starswirl."

Tercio thought he knew the name from somewhere, but he could not place it for the life of him.

"I have not told that story to anyone in many years," she added.

"Well, thank you for trusting me enough to do so. I can only hope that I find someone I can care about as much."

"I'm sure you will. You need only search your heart."

"And Canterlot," he quipped.

"Yes, and Canterlot, I'm sure," she said with a soft smile. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to hear some more of those stories you seem to tell so well. I've no further duties until I retire for the night, and I would love to enjoy such pleasant weather as we're having. I assume you're available for a while yet?"

"For you, Celestia, I am always available."

Surprisingly, the princess reached a foreleg across the table and placed her golden shoe upon Tercio's shoulder.

"Thank you for agreeing to come by tonight, Tercio. You've been a wonderful dinner guest."

Tercio grasped her hoof in both hands and smiled.

"And thank you for inviting me. I've not had a more pleasant evening with more charming company in a very long time."

He refilled their glasses, passing one across the table, and put his arm up on a cushion.

"So, where would you like me to begin?"

15 - Curia

It was the first time Tercio had been in the Conference of Nations room, a large, stately circle of tiered marble steps and crafted seats for up to a dozen dignitaries. Housed in one of the castle's largest spires, it served as a meeting point for diplomats, rulers, and other important people from beyond Equestria's borders. At first he had counted himself lucky for being chosen, along with three others, to guard some of the most powerful and influential beings in the world, but as time dragged on and diplomats bickered he'd soon come to wish he'd been passed by.

Besides Princess Celestia, three others from surrounding nations had shown up earlier in the day to discuss the matter of the Equestrian/Whitetail war and its repercussions. None of them seemed to particularly care for the other, but things had at least remained relatively civil.

There was Empress Elinwyyn, from the Cervidaen Hegemony, a frequent guest of Celestia's. Tercio had only seen her once before, but she seemed reasonable enough. She did, however, hold herself in high regard, far more than Celestia had ever shown. Her nation -- composed of several smaller states that had been annexed through conquest, mostly -- was roughly the size of Equestria, though more spread out. At the moment she was seated to Celestia's right, draped in a shimmering fabric of emerald green, with golden antler decorations that tinkled gently when she moved her head. Large antlers on female deer, Celestia had told him, were unique to Elinwyyn's particular race.

Beside her sat the ruler of the Griffon Empire, a hot-headed male of the aggressive and war-like northern lands formally known by the title of "Emperor Galdron, Claw of the Mountains, Ruler of the Six Holds, Conqueror of The Wilds, With Eternal Glory From the Gods of Air, Stone, and Flame, He Who Rules by Divine Right, Blessed be His Name."

At least, that's how his servant had introduced him. The grand titles and self-important jargon went out the door when he was talking with other rulers, probably out of necessity. Rumor had it that the griffons worshiped Emperor Galdron as a god or prophet, a living manifestation of the earthen gods so central to many aspects of griffon life. He came from the distant, wind-swept peaks of Skytalon, where the harsh cold and blistering gales meant that most griffon settlements were dug straight into the mountains themselves. His ruling chambers were said to be the hollowed-out shell of an entire snow-capped peak.

He was darker than other griffons Tercio had seen, with grey plumage tipped with black over his front half and dark brown fur over his back half. From neck to haunches he wore dark brown leathers with silver decorations and blue patterns. A large, intricate portrayal of a great mountain adorned the chest plate of his armor, with inscriptions written in his native tongue in shining platinum. Steel gauntlets clicked on the mahogany chair as he drummed his claws in impatience.

Finally, there was the leader of the Zevran Tribal Lands -- or simply Zevran -- Elder Mwolan'e. Of the three visiting heads of state, Tercio liked him the best. So too, it seemed, did Celestia. Whereas Galdron was boisterous and borderline obnoxious, and Elinwyyn infuriatingly self-important and smug at times, Mwolan'e never raised his voice or insulted the others. His patience made even Celestia seem short-tempered by comparison. Dressed in traditional brown and black wrappings that hung to his knees, along with a short, cylindrical hat, his stocky zebra frame made him stand out from the other, taller attendees. His most striking feature was his tendency to slip into rhyme, an apparently common trait among the zebras, and the large, golden rings that adorned his neck and legs. He currently sat across from the griffon emperor, his forelegs crossed over his chest.

Celestia stood in the middle of the room, speaking at length for the last several minutes. She had been trying to drum up support for Equestria's part of the war, but it was an uphill battle. None of them seemed to want to throw in their lot.

"My esteemed guests, I realize that what I ask of you is not something that is easy to answer, but--"

"On the contrary, Princess," Emperor Galdron interrupted, "I think it's quite easy to answer. And that answer is a solid 'no'."

Mwolan'e spoke up. "Emperor Galdron, I do not believe you are giving a fair chance to Princess Celestia." His words were heavily accented, but still had a pleasing timbre to them. "Who among us can say they have not experienced war in their time? Such a thing is sometimes unavoidable."

"And sometimes it's necessary," the griffon countered. "This is not one of those times. We are at peace in Skytalon and the six holds. It is a time to replenish our numbers and forge our weapons for the next conflict."

"I believe peace is something the distinguished Princess has more experience with than any among us.You should not be so quick to jump to conclusions."

"And you should not be so quick to lecture me, zebra," Galdron said with a sneer. Bad blood still existed between the two nations from a conflict that had taken place less than a decade prior.

Celestia clacked a golden shoe on the tile.

"As I have said previously, Emperor, please try to keep things civil." Galdron said nothing in return, motioning for Celestia to continue. "The simple truth of the matter is that my people fight and die to repel the Whitetail aggressors, all because of an attack that we had no part in."

"That's not the way I heard it."

"Then I believe you heard wrong, Emperor Galdron," Celestia answered firmly, affixing her gaze on him.

For the first time in several minutes, Empress Elinwyyn added her voice to the debate.

"Princess, Emperor -- what caused the outbreak of this war is not what matters. Not anymore. What matters is what will end it."

"What will end it would be the Whitetail chancellor actually attending this conference, not cowering under his senators," Galdron laughed dismissively. "And you, Empress -- why haven't you used your influence with the Whitetail to put a stop to this? Surely they're more likely to listen to you than any of us, seeing as how you're practically blood related."

"We may both be deer, but I am Redtail and they are Whitetail. We are as different as pegasus and unicorn, though I suppose we may appear similar to the uninitiated."

"Regardless, they would listen to you before any of us. Clearly before Princess Celestia."

"My dear Emperor, since the outbreak of this war I have, in my boundless grace, attempted to speak with both nations many times. Equestria is thankfully open, but Whitetail is hostile and paranoid after the attack on their people. I still try, as my position dictates, and I have every confidence that, in time, the Whitetail will see my way as the only proper way, lest they be forgotten in the annals of history."

"That sounds like a threat, Empress."

Elinwyyn smiled. "No, simply a statement of fact. Times are changing, and those who do not adapt will cease to be relevant."

Elder Mwolan'e raised a hoof to speak. "Excuse me for interrupting, my friends, but I believe Equestria's armies have Whitetail on the retreat, even as we speak. The tides of war have surely turned, no more pony homes will burn. Will the Whitetail capitol now be crushed, as payment for this war to which they have blindly rushed?"

In the center of the room, Celestia frowned at the thought.

"I have not once entertained the idea of sieging Whitetail's capitol, Elder Mwolan'e. Such an act would only lead to more death and destruction. Between the war and the attack on Canterlot I have had enough bloodshed for an eternity." She raised her voice slightly and spoke with confidence. "Before the start of this conflict, Equestria had been at peace with its neighbors for the last two hundred years. Not since my mother and father united the three pony races has this land seen steel clashing against steel. Can anyone here claim the same? No? Then I fail to see how my actions could be misconstrued as war mongering or something similar. I am not asking for soldiers to crush Whitetail or its people; I merely ask for enough support to ensure that I can bring this war to a close with as few losses on both sides as possible. Whitetail will only stop when it believes it cannot possibly win."

The dignitaries said nothing, prompting Celestia to approach each of them as she spoke.

"If not soldiers, then supplies. Food, water, medicine, materials, anything you can spare. I give you my word that Equestria will repay you, with gratitude and generosity, as we always have."

Mwolan'e was the first to say something in return.

"Princess, even if the Whitetail do not prolong this conflict, there is still the matter of these 'Nightmare Moon' cults that are appearing. As I understand it, they are the same ones who so ruthlessly attacked Canterlot, are they not?"

Celestia sighed. "They are, yes, or so it seems. As if it were not enough to be forced to banish my own sister, I now have to deal with fanatics and cultists who worship her as some sort of dark messiah. What caused this, I cannot say, but you can rest assured that I am very much committed to bringing them to justice as we find them...or helping them, as it often turns out to be."

"What do you mean, 'helping them'?" Emperor Galdron asked.

"Most of the ponies -- and griffons and zebras and deer -- who are under the cult's influence are simply lost and afraid. Misguided, as it were. If I can help them readjust to normal life, I will do so."

"It would be easier to put them all to the sword and be done with it," he said firmly.

"It would be. And it would also be wrong."

Galdron scoffed. "You ponies and your love and mercy. Look where it's gotten you now."

Celestia approached the griffon emperor and stood before him in all of her grace and authority.

"One of the benefits of a long life, Emperor Galdron, is that I can remember things quite clearly when they would simply be stories or myths to someone with a normal life span. Do you know your history?"

"As if I would lead the Empire without it! Yes, of course I know the history of the griffon people."

"Then you should already be well aware of the hundreds of ponies who gave their lives -- voluntarily, might I add -- to defend Skytalon against the great dragon attacks nearly a century and a half ago. A time which your nation would not have survived if not for the love and mercy my people showed yours."

She stuck out a hoof against his armored chest.

"Do not mistake our kind nature for weakness, Emperor."

Galdron sat up in his chair after she'd turned away, fidgeting and mumbling to himself.

"Fine. If Equestria asks for support, it shall have support. I cannot promise how much, but you will hear from me by the next crescent moon."

Satisfied, and hiding a smile behind her practiced facade, Celestia bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Emperor. Your kindness will not be forgotten. Would anyone else pledge support to Equestria?"

"Our lands are vast, our numbers small," Elder Mwolan'e said, "but if aid you seek, I am at your call. Your age speaks to your wisdom, far more than any of us. Forgive me for my doubts; war is harmful for us all. I am sure my merchants would very much like to resume trade without fear of attack from either side. We have no warriors to spare, though a strong harvest this year has given us a vast cornucopia of food stores. I would be glad to send them to your soldiers."

"You are too kind, my friend. I cannot thank you enough." Celestia turned to Elinwyyn. "And you?"

"Unfortunately, Princess, I do not think aid is something we can provide. A terribly cold winter left our fields bare, a catastrophe from which we are still recovering."

Mwolan'e arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Your people go hungry? I have not heard of this before now. If you require any aid--"

"No, thank you," Elinwyyn answered quickly, "we are recovering quite well and we prefer to be self-sufficient. In any case, all of our soldiers are either guarding our borders, searching for the followers of your fallen sister, or keeping the peace. Furthermore, the Whitetail are our kin in spirit as well as blood. Not many of my people wish to fight their cousins across the border. They are, after all, both part of the superior Cervidaen heritage."

Two out of three was more than Celestia was expecting to get. Even with the Cervidaen people unable or unwilling to support Equestria, it could have been far worse. Promises were cheap, and Celestia knew it, but at least it meant the possibility of aid. She bowed deeply to mark the end of negotiations.

"My friends, I thank each and every one of you for attending today. I know it's a long way from your homes. I do hope you've found the food and hospitality to be sufficient, and the conversations to be enlightening."

They bowed in return, except for Galdron, who simply nodded.

"As always, Princess Celestia, it's been a treat," he said in an annoyingly dismissive tone. "You shall hear from the Griffon Empire soon."

"And ours as well." Mwolan'e made a spiral pattern across his chest with a hoof. "May the spirits watch over and guide you always."

The zebra and griffon rulers left through the tall doors at the side of the room, leaving only Elinwyyn with Celestia. The tall, petite deer stood up and stretched loudly.

"Do you think Galdron will actually hold up to his end of the agreement?"

"I don't know," Celestia answered truthfully, "but I'm optimistic. He is a hard griffon to get along with, but not entirely unreasonable."

"Perhaps. I think he'd sooner offer a knife in your back." The golden decorations on her antlers swayed as she approached the princess. "I'm curious, Celestia: do you still have that pendant I gave you, from the last time the moon was full?"

"I do, yes. It's quite lovely, thank you."

"Very good. Keep it close, and I'm confident you will have good luck."

Celestia wasn't sure of how much good luck she'd had recently, but she didn't object.

"I could certainly use it, Empress."

"As could we all." Elinwyyn bowed once more. "Thank you again for having me. I must be leaving for Cervidae, but we will see each other again soon, I'm sure of it."

"Of course. Have a safe trip."

As soon as Elinwyyn was gone, Celestia drooped her head and let out a long, deep breath, then regained her more casual bearing.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same. Thank you for standing watch, my praetorians."

"We are honored to serve, Princess," they answered as one, tipping their spears.

"And I'm honored to have you with me. Cloudtop, Anarius, Cinder Sage, you may return to your barracks for the time being. Have a pleasant rest of the day."

"And I, Princess?" Tercio asked as his companions left through the guard entrance behind him.

"Walk with me, please," she answered.

"As you wish."

Celestia waited until they were out of earshot of the other guards, then asked, "So what did you think of our honored guests?"

"They were...quite interesting. I have never witnessed royalty deciding the fate of nations."

She laughed quietly. "You can be honest with me, my friend. What did you really think?"

"Well, I..." Tercio tried to think of something to say, but the words failed him for some time. "I suppose they come off as rather, I don't know...aloof? The zebra, Molwana--"

"Mwolan'e," Celestia corrected him with a giggle.

"Right, Mwolan'e. He struck me as the only one to truly care about what you were saying. Galdron and Elinwyyn were surprisingly dismissive of your concerns. Perhaps the ideals I have seen you uphold do not apply to every leader, much to my dismay."

Celestia nodded. "I am by no means perfect, but I do try to uphold the very elements that have kept us safe and prosperous for all this time. I am sure Galdron and Elinwyyn are doing the same; their ideals are simply different from ours."

"As you say. I must admit that I do not envy you at such times, especially with the griffon," he laughed.

"Galdron is like his father and his grandfather before him -- stubborn. Getting through to him requires an equally stubborn resolve. I believe I made it clear to the good Emperor that he cannot insult us like we're a weak nation."

"I'd say you did indeed. That Elinwyyn mare -- or doe, rather -- I had only seen her prior to this day at some distance. She is quite a striking figure."

Celestia smirked. "Enjoy your time around her, did you?"

"As much as one could enjoy his time around someone of great self-importance and infuriatingly smug demeanor. She is not exactly my type," he laughed.

"I'm merely teasing. Yes, Elinwyyn is quite a figure, but I would be lying if I said my dealings with her have not come at some small cost of sanity. She means well enough, I think, and she often brings gifts as a show of good will."

"Like the pendant she mentioned?"

"The very same. Remind me to show it to you some time."

"I'll do that. And what of Mwolan'e? I quite liked him, he seems to have a firm head on his shoulder."

"Mwolan'e is someone I see very rarely. I wish he were closer -- especially for the wonderful food he usually brings -- but, alas, Zevran is further from Canterlot than any other nation in attendance today. Quite a shame, really. That said, I am glad I don't have to attend these sorts of meetings on a regular basis, or I'm afraid I would quickly cease to be patient. Foreign leaders can be more difficult to deal with than any number of other crises."

They passed a pair of saluting guards on the way to a bridge that connected the towering spires, and Tercio saluted in return.

"I wanted to thank you again for the wonderful dinner last night, Princess. I believe I slept better than I have in ages, no doubt thanks to a copious amount of food and wine."

"I'm glad to hear it. And thank you for being such a charming dinner guest. I value such conversations far more than a thousand bouts of diplomatic bickering. It is nice to be reminded that life goes on."

"A not entirely unreasonable thing to say," he mused. "I hear word you've invited some others to a small dinner party tomorrow night. Any truth to it?"

"There is, yes. I wanted to thank them just as I've thanked you -- but more than that, I wanted it to be clear that I valued you as not just a praetorian, but as a kind, charming man and a good friend. That's why I invited you to dinner with me -- I had many reasons, not just a singular one, and all of them were justified far more than I can say. I value all of my praetorian guards and friends, but there is something special about you. And I don't just mean your unique looks."

"Well that's good to know," Tercio chuckled.

"You mention your adoptive mother and father often. I'd say they have done a fine job raising you, and they should be proud to have such a good son, no matter who or what he is. Perhaps we can meet again some time soon for a lighter meal?"

The thought of spending more time with the princess made his spirits lift -- the more he got to know the previously-distant Celestia, the more he enjoyed her company. He smiled to himself at the prospect of being around her once more.

"I would like that very much."

The night was cool as Tercio crossed over the palace grounds on his way to Canterlot proper. Small clumps of clouds hung in the sky, with flitting figures darting back and forth, silhouetted against the glowing half-moon. His leather sandals crunched on the dirt path that led to the main gate, where he passed the statue of Discord, a physical god of disharmony and chaos that had brought terror to Equestria many years before he was even born. He wondered what kind of place the world used to be before his time, before civilization. From the sound of things, it was barbaric and utterly dangerous.

"Evening, Centurion," a gold-clad guard said as Tercio approached, saluting smartly. His blue crest swayed as he pulled his hoof to his chest.

"Milites."

Tercio returned the salute and continued on, out through the large gates that had been reinforced with iron even since the attack. From there it was a short walk down the hill to a large, open-air garden that branched off to the many roads that would take a traveller to any place in Canterlot they desired. To the east, the military sector, with blacksmiths, armorers, and provision runners, all working day and night to keep the war effort supplied.

To the west, the Great Library of Equestria, a building that housed countless scrolls, books, and ancient hieroglyphic slates detailing the entire history of the known world. It was said one could get lost in its great halls and spend hours trying to return.

Finally, to the south, the majority of Canterlot remained as large and populated as it had ever been. Much of the battle scars from the fanatical attackers had been painted over or replaced, but not all of them; gouges from spears and arrows pock-marked walls, and faded red stains still showed through in places where the unfortunate citizens of the great city had fallen.

Still, life went on. Even well after the setting of the sun there was a busy chorus of street vendors, shop owners and general chatter as friends and neighbors met and conversed. It was almost like a war wasn't even going on. Tercio envied them for not witnessing the sight of the princess nearly dying in battle, but pitied them for not having the means to defend themselves against the followers of Nightmare Moon. Far too many had lost their lives. Princess Celestia had taken it exceptionally hard, saying barely more than a few words for a week on end. But she, too, had found herself once more. The world would not stop while she wept, and neither would Canterlot.

The smell of fresh food met his nose upon his entrance to the famous Harmony Street, the place that was the true heart and soul of Canterlot..and the beginning of nearly every excess one could ask for, if you knew where to look. All it took was a few minutes of walking in the right direction.

"Come, come, I have fresh potato dumplings and wheat pasta!" A heavily-accented voice called out.

"A stallion who does not eat curry balls is no true stallion!"

"Fresh strawberries and grapes, the finest in the city! The finest in Equestria!"

Young colts and fillies gathered around him as he walked, pulling open flaps on saddle bags to reveal myriad bits and baubles for sale. They vied for his attention, shoving each other and whining about how unfair it was that they had to compete with their pseudo-friends. Some of them simply wanted to touch a hoof to his waist or arm, excited and intrigued by the tall, strange-looking creature standing before them. He laughed and assured them he didn't bite, allowing them their curiosity, before they quickly realized he wasn't going to buy anything and moved on.

A spicy smell of some kind of peppery dish grabbed his attention, and he followed it to its source, a small street cart where a thick, red soup boiled lively from fire-heated rocks that sizzled as they were dropped into the mixture. The zebra mare sitting beside the pot smiled and offered a bowl for a moderate price, and Tercio gladly accepted, handing over a small stack of bits. The initial spiciness rushed down his throat, but before it could become unpleasant it was replaced by a soothing, sweet aftertaste. He concluded that zebra food was the greatest thing in all of creation, much to the surprise of the two stallions seated beside him.

His stomach full and his coin purse slightly emptier, Tercio headed south from Harmony and soon came upon the well-known, but infrequently discussed Saddlesore Alley. The attitude changed as quickly as the lighting -- gone were the countless candles and and small cooking fires that cast an orange glow. In their place, a rainbow of colored lanterns and magical flames danced across the shadowed walls and flicked across cobblestone streets. The hustle and bustle died down to a quieter hum of distant conversation. It didn't take long for the first mare to approach him from a corner building. She, like most of her companions, wore a loose, red shawl that covered her shoulders and wrapped once around her waist, tipped with hanging strands of red silk and gold beads.

"Hey there, mister mysterious, you looking for a good time? I'd love to know what you're all about..."

Soresaddle Alley, the carnal heart of Canterlot's southern district. If you couldn't find what you were looking for, it probably wasn't someone's turn-on. Brothels lined the streets and mares danced seductively in front of their quarters, teasingly lifting tails or dipping to their knees in an attempt to pull in the closest traveller -- male or female, young or old, it didn't matter.

In truth, Tercio wasn't looking for a mare for the night. Curiosity had brought him to Soresaddle more than anything, though he didn't mind the view. Plenty of other stallions were much more eager, however, as he could plainly hear. The moans and groans sometimes seemed to surround him, at least when he could hear them over the oft exquisite mares who vied for his coin.

As he rounded a corner a middle-aged pegasus stallion in a green and silver cloak trotted beside him, looking up with a sly smile.

"Hey, I know you!"

"Do you?" Tercio asked cautiously.

"Yeah! You're not some ordinary sucker looking for some boring street mare, am I right? You're a stallion of class."

"I think you may have me mistaken for someone else."

"Pfft, I know a picky customer when I see one. So what's your thing, pal? Stallions? Mares? I got 'em all. Got 'em young, too. How's that?" When Tercio didn't say anything the fast-talking stallion redoubled his efforts. "Name's Red Light, and these mares here? They ain't nothin'. My girls are courtesans, ya understand?"

"Please leave."

"Hey, what's your age preference? If ya got the coin, I got ones who ain't even got their destiny marks yet. Might be you're their destiny, eh? Ya never know."

Tercio let out an exasperated sigh.

"If you knew who I was you wouldn't be asking me such things."

"Of course I know you. Everyone knows you! You're that homen what's got the funny-lookin' hooves."

"I'm also a Praetorian, and if you try to sell me a filly one more time I'm going to have the entirety of the royal guard down here before you can pick your prick up from the ground."

Red Light jerked back.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy there! Ain't nothin' illegal goin' on, I'm a legitimate business stallion! Look, if ya want me to be honest, they ain't actually blank flanks, alright? We just hide their destiny marks with a magic spell. There, can we get back to brass tacks now?"

"I would rather you leave me be."

"Fine, then. Be that way. Don't come cryin' to me when your cock starts burnin' every time ya piss."

Instead of leaving, the stallion stuck to Tercio's side, constantly glancing around. Tercio felt under the fabric of his tunic for the small, hidden blade he kept strapped to his thigh. Something was off, and it wasn't just the stallion's pushy attitude. Together they ducked behind a large building, and as soon as they were out of sight of anyone else Tercio yanked the dagger from its holster and forced Red Light against the wall.

"I said, leave me be!"

"Shit!" Red Light choked with an arm pressed against his neck.

"I do not know who you think you are, or what you hope to accomplish, but I assure you--"

"I have word from your brother!"

Tercio paused, unsure of what he'd just heard.

"Do not lie to me, stallion. It would be unwise to upset a praetorian."

"I swear it! I may be a fool at times, but I find lying with a blade to my throat to be a very bad for my health!"

When Tercio relaxed his grip the stallion dropped to the floor, coughing and catching his breath.

"Fucking hell, he wasn't kidding. You really are quick!"

Still cautious, Tercio never the less slid the weapon back into his concealed holster.

"You had best explain yourself, and quickly."

"Right, right." Red Light picked himself back up, dusting off his cloak. "I do, in fact, know who you are. You are Tercio Krosus, a Centurion of the Praetorian Guard, age thirty-two. Humen, or however you say it. You're not exactly one to blend in with the crowd."

"The point, Red Light."

"My name's not actually Red Light, but you probably guessed that already, didn't you? You can keep calling me that for the purpose of this conversation, if you like. The important part is that I bring word from your brother, Victus, in the Legion."

"How...how do you know Victus?"

"He hired me out to find you. I'm less of a purveyor of fine mares and more of a messenger."

"You certainly seemed eager to sell me one."

"We were surrounded by whores and ponies who would cut your ear off just to spite you. I was specifically told to not tell anyone but you. Had to blend in, understand? Been following you since you left the castle."

Tercio cursed himself for not noticing before.

"Tell me what? Has something happened to Victus? Is he alright?" Tercio could hear himself growing worried, but the stallion took a step back to give him space.

"Your pegasus brother is fine. Even managed to get through the biggest battle of the last three centuries without a scratch. He fights for Equestria on the western border, near Whitetail Wood. He's been very busy with his duties and he regrets not being able to write, but he sends his best wishes. He says, and I quote: 'I hope this message finds you well, brother. I've heard you saved Princess Celestia from an assassin. I am very proud of you, as I'm sure mother and father are. The war goes well but I wish I were home. Take care of yourself, I will see you soon if the gods will it.'"

Tercio slumped back against the wall, laughing in relief.

"Oh thank the gods! I had feared the worst. Thank you for setting my mind at ease, but I have to ask: why all the secrecy?"

"Because when you're in my line of business, you can't be too careful. You're kind of a hero, and if I went around blurting out information about you or your brother, well...let's just say there are some Nightmare Moon followers who aren't too happy you stopped them from killing Celestia. Wouldn't want you getting yourself in even more danger, ya follow?"

"That's...awfully kind of you, actually."

Red Light -- or the pony who called himself Red Light -- lifted an upturned hoof, the equivalent of a shrug.

"I'm a messenger, an information pony, but I'm still loyal to the crown. Business tends to dry up if everyone you rely on for income ends up dying."

Tercio could hardly believe it -- not only was Victus alive, he was in good health! From what he'd heard, the battle for the Everfree forest was among the largest and most violent in Equestria's history, and wounded had poured into Canterlot for weeks following it. Escaping such a fight without a single scratch -- far more than Tercio himself could claim -- was either a very large stroke of luck, or a testament to Victus' skill.

"Red Light, would you be able to deliver a message for me in return?"

"I suppose I could, for a price."

"Name it."

"Well..." He tapped his hoof on the ground and stretched his wings out as he came up with a price. "Last I saw, he was steadily heading west. Provided they haven't suddenly fallen back or made a major offensive, his unit is likely to be at or near the Equestria/Whitetail border. That's a full day-and-a-half flight, weather permitting."

"Can't you control the weather?"

Red Light gave a snorting laugh. "Look, buddy, I'm flattered that you think I can wrangle an entire thunderstorm or drop a cyclone on a whim, but I'm just one pegasus. I can pull myself a cloud to sleep on but that's about it. I have to avoid the bad weather just as much as anyone else."

"Right, not sure what I was thinking. How much will it cost?"

"Seventy bits."

"You can't be serious."

"Hey, if you think you can find a faster way to deliver a message, in private, to a specific pony on the other side of the damn country, then by all means, go for it. If not, then that's my price."

Tercio grumbled to himself as he pulled his coin purse from his belt, then emptied the majority of it into the waiting hooves of Red Light.

"That's nearly a month's pay, I'll have you know."

Red Light pulled open the flap of a low-profile saddle bag hidden under his cloak and dumped the coins into it.

"Money well spent, Mr. Tercio. Money well spent."

"It had better be. So, do I write down what I want to pass on, or...?"

"No scrolls, no pages. Can't have my clients' secrets getting spilled, now can we? Tell me what you want me to pass on, like I'm your brother, and I'll deliver it as sure as if you were standing there."

There was so much to say. How could he even begin to mention the abject terror he felt during the raid on Canterlot, the pain that he felt at the loss of his comrades to a bunch of blood-crazed cultists, the nigh-uncontrollable rage he'd unleashed to kill Lacertus? He wished he could speak with Victus, sit down with him over a tall jug of wine and tell him about everything he'd been through. He wished he could describe what it was like to sit down for dinner with the most radiant mare he'd ever seen. Instead, he would have to keep it short, and save the stories for another time.

"Victus, I am glad to hear from you. Canterlot has at last returned to normal, though we are fewer in number. I fare well; no mere sell-sword will get the best of your brother. I am a full-fledged praetorian now, tasked with guarding the princess. She sends her well wishes. Stay safe, and one day soon we will visit the old orchard again. Gods be with you."

Red Light's eyes stared off into space for a moment, then refocused with a blink.

"I've got it. Rest assured, your brother will get your message, word for word. Now, I think it best we part ways. Thank you for your business, and best of luck with your duties."

"And you as well," Tercio nodded. "And thank you, Red Light. You have done much to rest my concerns."

"Whatever I can do to help." The pegasus tucked his saddle bag back under his cloak then turned to leave, his hooves clopping quietly against the cobblestone. "Take care of yourself, Praetorian."

16 - Vae Victus

Polished steel sliced through the air, clashing against wood and iron as it struck home. Again and again it attacked, quick jabs and powerful slashes, and each time it was met by the impenetrable wood and iron of a tower shield or the parrying strike of another blade.

For the past half hour Celestia had been training intently with the assistance of Stonewall and Tercio, brought upon by the old stallion's insistence that the princess learn to defend herself better in the event of a future attack. She had been reluctant at first, claiming to avoid conflict when necessary, but before long she had been convinced to see the practical side of things. Next time, Stonewall had said, the praetorians might not be enough.

"Time your blows, Princess," he reminded her, pacing back and forth while she sparred. She'd shown a good deal more skill than he'd imagined, but she was rusty and tended to flail rather than pick her strikes. In the thirty years he'd served at her side, it was the first time he'd actually seen the princess training with any conviction.

Maybe, he mused, the attack has finally lit a fire under her ass.

"Play to your strengths. Watch your opponent. Attack from unexpected angles."

Celestia trained using a longsword, nearly twice the size of a standard gladius, which allowed her to exploit her taller frame and focus her magic more effectively. Her opponent, Tercio, fought using the standard gladius and tower shield, with a smaller buckler as a back-up. It would suffice for initial training.

Tercio held his shield at neck level, covering himself from top to bottom and leaving only his head and ankles exposed. In his right hand he grasped his blade, keeping it high and ready. For a brief second he planned his movements, then let out a shout and pushed himself off his heels with a surge of speed. The ferocity of the attack caught Celestia by surprise, and she took a step back as her levitated sword clanged harmlessly off the front of the shield. She struggled to remain in control of the weapon, then, in a moment of desperation, brought the sword around from behind to strike at Tercio's back. Without missing a step he swung his shield around, bringing it up to cover himself in one, smooth motion as he went into a sideways stance, blocking the weapon effortlessly with his left hand and thrusting his gladius out with his right. The blunted blade stopped a scant inch from Celestia's throat, and she gulped in surprise.

"Ha! Very good, Krosus! Very good!" Stonewall stomped a hoof on the ground and laughed a short laugh. He motioned to the shield as Tercio dropped his stance and returned to a resting position. "How in the nine hells did you figure that one out?"

"Polaris tried that on me once before. It caught me off guard then," he answered, then tapped a finger against the side of his head, "but I remember. When the princess lost control of her weapon I thought she might try something similar."

"Well hell, maybe you're not useless after all."

"So I would hope." He turned to Celestia and bowed slightly. "Apologies for surprising you like that, Princess."

"No need to be sorry, my friend. That was quite skillful of you. To be honest it's been a very long time since I've taken combat training so seriously. I wish I'd done so sooner."

"How long, exactly?"

"Too long," Stonewall quipped.

"Over fifty years ago," Celestia admitted sheepishly. "Luna and I would spar sometimes, but combat seemed like a distant concern compared to the daily routine of politics and meeting the needs of Equestria's citizens. In hindsight, I feel rather foolish for it."

"You could not have known," Tercio reassured her. "You were merely doing what any good ruler would do: putting the people ahead of yourself."

"Perhaps. But I can no longer pretend that Canterlot is entirely safe, no matter how many guards we may have. I want to be prepared, both for myself and for all of you. I owe it to you and Stonewall and everypony else to not be a burden should we find ourselves under attack again."

"Very noble, Princess. Now, if it pleases the Imperator, we'll continue."

Stonewall waved them on.

Celestia returned to a ready stance, her hooves firmly planted and her longsword floating in front of her in a shimmering field of yellow magic.

"Think about me as an opponent," Terco said. "An enemy. I am your equal in height, I am able to extend my attack range further than any pegasus or stallion, but you are not limited to the movement of a weapon clasped in a hand or held in a mouth. I have reach, you have flexibility."

She nodded, then took a deep breath.

"Right. Whenever you're ready, Ter--oh!"

Tercio struck out without warning, stabbing his gladius forward and just barely missing Celestia's chest. She took a step back, but recovered far more quickly than the previous bout. Her longsword thudded against Tercio's shield in a heavy slash, and with a grunt of exertion she pushed the sword with enough power to skid Tercio back on the tile by several inches. Her horn flared with a second layer of energy, enveloping the first, and the longsword scraped off the side of the shield. She thrust it out once more, narrowly passing his shoulder, and Tercio took the brief moment of respite to swing his shield up. Celestia caught the movement, dodged to the right, and brought her sword plunging down from above. It landed hard enough to embed itself in the tower shield's wooden structure for a heartbeat, and as she yanked it free she found a gladius stopped directly in front of her face.

"I thought I had you that time," she said after she recovered her bearing.

"You almost did."

Stonewall approached. "The problem, Your Highness, is that while your offensive capabilities are strong, your defensive abilities are weak. There is a reason we train with sword and board: you need equal parts attack and defense."

Celestia frowned. "I can't very well be seen walking around Canterlot with a large shield at my side, Imperator. Imagine what such an image would convey to the ponies of Canterlot."

"Strength? Fighting spirit?" he answered sincerely.

"Fear. My subjects expect to see their princess calm and in control. Such a thing would be self-defeating were I to wander around, armed and armored, as if I were expecting an attack at any moment." She motioned to the two praetorians. "That's what I have you and your kin for, after all."

Stonewall rubbed his chin. "Mmm. Fair enough. Still, I don't like you being defenseless."

"Should such a need arise, I can equip myself for battle, provided I have the time to prepare. At the very least I could, perhaps, keep a weapon concealed on or around the dais?"

Tercio raised a hand to get their attention.

"If I may make a suggestion? You want something that will be effective, yet you also want it to be easy to hide from view. A tower shield is much too large to keep concealed, obviously -- but what about a pair of longswords? Perhaps with a small buckler strapped to her upper foreleg?"

"I don't know..." Stonewall replied.

"Think of it this way: Princess Celestia already has the means to carry a sword with her, as we saw during the attack, so it's conceivable that a second wouldn't be much encumberment. It would allow her to levitate her weapons while keeping her agility and providing a means of defense. Plus, a pair of scabbards are easier to hide from view than a large shield. Such a combat load-out could be equipped and ready to use in mere seconds."

Stonewall looked up at Celestia. "Princess? What do you think?"

"I have to default to you, my friend. You have far more experience with arms than I."

"Well, it's certainly a viable idea, but if this is what we agree on then you're going to have to commit to a schedule of training, at least three to four days a week. Dual blades are not unheard of, but it requires a level of focus and knowledge far above that of a shield and gladius. This will not be an easy task to master."

Celestia looked at the sword levitating before her, its blade reflecting the sunlight glow of her magic.

"If it means potentially saving the life of even a single pony," she said confidently, "then I will do it."

"Very well then, it's settled."

"You are going to need another sword, Princess," Tercio said, pointing with his gladius. "Unfortunately longswords are not something we typically carry in the armory."

Stonewall answered for her. "Let me take care of that. And while we're at it, neither you nor I can use magic, so levitating something is far beyond our abilities. But I think I know a way to fix that little problem. Now, back to your ready positions. We're not done for today just yet."

Slow and painful. That's how Victus would have described his progress. When he'd been told to run reconnaissance on a newly-discovered Nightmare Moon cultist camp, he hadn't expected to take an hour or more to crawl his way through the rain and mud to avoid detection.

His team was small, consisting of himself, his fellow experienced legionary and long-time friend, Chiron, and a few newly-anointed soldiers who had proven themselves in battle -- Steel Spark, Sertis, and Rockfall. The first part of the plan was to locate the camp at the edge of the forest, attain an exact count of the cultists' numbers, and grab anything that could help link it with other groups. Hopefully without conflict.

"Quit your bitching, ponies."

Gilias, the battle-hardened griffon. She was the second part of the plan, the distraction. Her task was to present herself to the cultists as an aspiring member, then cause as much commotion as possible to draw the others around her. Surprisingly, she was all for it.

"You're going in unarmed?" Victus had asked her before they left the Legion camp.

"Unarmed? Of course not. I have these." With her signature grin she'd clacked her talons together, and made it very clear that she was more than capable of handling whatever a few fanatics could throw at her.

Now she found herself crawling through the filth like everyone else, getting her feathers and fur matted with mud, dead leaves and torn grass. Unlike everyone else, she relished it.

"This kind of weather makes you feel alive, my equine friends! Drink it in!"

"I do not see how you can be so excited about dragging ourselves through wet, sucking mud, Batttle-Master," Rockfall said in a harsh whisper. None of them wore any sort of armor, lest it give them away, instead carrying simple belts that held water flasks and a single gladius. Those who had lighter-colored coats or manes, like Victus, had covered themselves in a dark brown powder that would conceal their forms. It clung to his skin and feathers and itched like mad, but it was better than being caught.

"If you'd grown up in Skytalon you would cherish the rain, Equestrian. The only moisture we ever see up there is snow, snow, and more snow. Oh, and ice. So look on the bright side: you could be freezing your ass off right now."

"Silence," Victus ordered, lifting a hoof. The tall, triangular shapes of the cultist encampment were finally within view, a small sea of tents and lean-to structures. Silhouetted shadows traveled between them. "We hold here for now. Steel Spark, Rockfall, you will take the left flank. Sertis, Chiron, you take the right. Remember: slow movements, and keep your head low. Try to get an accurate count of number and species, or race. If we're compromised, regroup at this spot. Once Gilias has their attention I will make my way to the camp. Understood?"

"Understood," they answered as one.

"Very well. Battle-Master Gilias, I believe this is your time to shine. Best of luck."

"Luck?" Gilias chortled. "If I can survive a bunch of pissed-off deer slinging explosives at me, I can handle a few fanatics." She pulled herself up from the mud, not bothering to brush any of it off. "One last thing before I go."

"Yes?"

"Hit me."

Victus looked at her like she'd just grown a second head.

"...what?"

"You heard me, pony. Hit me. I gotta look the part of a griffon on her last legs."

"I..." He gave up with a sigh. "Fine. But this is your idea, not mine."

"No shit. Hurry it up, will you?"

Victus stood up, staring at the griffon for a moment, then cocked back a foreleg.

"Hey," she said intently, "do me a favor, and don't be a pussy about it."

Reluctantly he mustered as much strength as he could, then drove his hoof forward. It hit Gilias in her left cheek hard enough to draw a thin gash of blood that dyed her feathers pink as it mixed with the rain. Immediately the entire side of her face began to swell, the skin turning purple and red under her white plumage. She held her position, unmoving, for several seconds, breathing deeply.

"Not bad," she finally said, laughing between winces of pain and sucking breaths. "I could kill someone with my bare claws right now. Let's hope the cultist scum don't piss me off, hmm?" She looked herself over once more and said, "here goes everything."

Victus hit the ground as soon as Gilias turned to leave. The others looked at him with amused interest.

"What? You have your orders, legionaries, get moving!"

The ponies around him started their slow crawl to their overwatch positions while Victus kept an eye on Gilias. It only took a few moments for her to clear the mouth of the forest, where she immediately began to hobble along, nearly dragging herself in feigned injury. She coughed and wheezed, faintly audible above the rain.

"Battle-Master, warrior, trainer," Victus chuckled to himself, "and now, actor. Consider me impressed, Gilias."

For their diminutive size, Gilias thought between limping steps, ponies were a lot stronger than they looked. She was impressed by the pegasus and his decidedly painful right hook. If she'd had any teeth, there would have been a good chance she'd be missing a few.

"Intruder! Stop right there!"

They'd finally noticed her, a small band of figures wrapped in dark blue, hooded cloaks. Three appeared to be earth ponies, with the bulge in the fourth's hood marking him as a unicorn. Gilias did as she was told, coming to a stop with a claw clutching the side of her face.

"Who are you, and why do you trespass on sacred land?"

The pony in the center, large in build and with a distinctly northern accent, gazed upon her with cruel eyes. The tip of a scabbard jutted out from the back of his cloak. Presumably the others would be armed as well. There wouldn't be a lot of time if things went to shit.

Now or never, Gilias.

"B-Brothers...I am so glad to have...nngh...finally found you."

The gathered ponies looked at each other.

"Explain yourself, griffon. Do not dare to call me 'brother' in vain."

Gilias had prepared a sob-story for the occasion, one she was sure would win over even the blackest of hearts. That, or they'd see right through it and stick a blade in her throat. One of the two.

"I...I barely escaped. It was terrible. Those damned Celestia loyalists, they attacked my peaceful farming village! They came in and demanded that we give them everything we have -- our food, our water -- and when we resisted they...they killed my fucking dog! Ran him through like a damned creature of the forest! He was just a puppy! A puppy with a missing leg! And he was blind!"

Gilias collapsed to her knees and forced herself to cry, squeezing her swollen face to encourage the tears to flow.

"Those monsters," one of the cultists said. Well, at least that one wasn't too bright.

"When we still would not give in to their sick demands, they strung up my father, who was an unemployed invalid and also suffering from the pox, right before my eyes! I tried to save him, but three of them pounced on me and beat me mercilessly! They said...they said if I moved, they would gut me then and there and feast on my entrails, then dance and fornicate in my blood!"

"I never did trust their type," another said, nodding to his companion. "To think they would resort to such depravity in the name of the false goddess! We are doing this land a favor by ending her corrupt reign!"

Gilias had to hide a smile -- it was like fooling children.

Back at the edge of the tree line, Victus was ready to make his move. Gilias was now surrounded by cloaked ponies and, while he couldn't make out her words over the rain, she seemed to have things under control for the time being. He lifted a foreleg and signaled that he was about to move, then slowly stood up from his position and took cover behind a tree. He was fairly certain he couldn't be seen, and with his gladius at his side he made a short gallop to a rotten tree stump and threw himself against the ground. A quick look to either side, and his look-outs gave him a status check; no activity to the right, but Rockfall stamped his hoof against the ground twice -- there was a pair of cultists somewhere to the western side of the camp. Victus would have to be more cautious.

Less than a hundred yards ahead a small collection of tents dotted the border of the camp. Behind them, a much larger tent, topped with golden decorations, stood out against the others. Thin, black smoke billowed from a hole at the top, likely from a stove of some kind. If there was anything of value to be found, Victus figured, it would be found there.

"--And so I come to you, brothers and sisters, in my time of need. For far too long have I believed the lies spread by the rancid, corrupting words of Celestia! I ask that you embrace me, as you have embraced the cold, loving grasp of Nightmare Loon. MOON! Nightmare Moon."

So far, so good. Mostly. By now Gilias had attracted most of the camp to her side, playing up her muddy, down-trodden, rain-soaked appearance for all it was worth. Somewhere on the opposite side of the camp the pegasus would be making his move. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

"You poor thing," a mare said somewhere in the crowd. They murmured and talked to each other, eating her story right up. Gilias collapsed to the ground, coughing dramatically and clutching her stomach.

"Please...some water..."

"Sister Bluebell, quickly!" A pony shouted. Rapid hoof-falls squelched in the mud as someone trotted away, only to return a few seconds later. A flask was passed from pony to pony, until a unicorn lifted his hood and levitated the water with blue-green magic. He had shaved his mane, leaving only bare skin that stood out in sharp contrast to the dark blue of his coat.

"Drink, griffon, and be restored."

Gilias was in no hurry to actually gulp down anything handed to her by a bunch of darkness-worshiping lunatics. When the water met her beak she grabbed the flask tightly and squeezed as hard as she could. A burst of water spilled down her face, close enough to fool any observer. Hopefully. When she collapsed to the ground again the crowd's noise rose to a din of shouts and pleas.

"Save her!" someone pleaded. "She is one of us!"

"She must have vengeance!"

"Let her feel the love of our Goddess!"

Gilias wanted to chance a look in Victus' direction, but knew she could not. She could only hope he was quick.

The first group of tents was thankfully empty, an unorganized mess of pots and pans, sleeping rolls and personal effects. For a group of supposedly organized fanatics, they were unusually messy.

Rain continued to patter down on the canvas tops and sides, and they billowed gently in the wind that swept in from the east. The gathered voices around Gilias were louder now, some of them audible. For what it was worth, they were fully entranced by her performance.

A short sprint put Victus against the side of the large, steeple-topped, rectangular tent that seemed to be the most important structure in the camp. He pressed himself closer to listen for any noise, finding none, but he knew the noise of the rain would likely block out any low conversations or sounds of hoof steps. Once more he looked to his fellow legionaries, who had moved up as he advanced. Right side, still all clear. Left side, two missing.

"Great," he muttered. Unaccounted for cultists were not likely to be good for his health. Carefully he pulled his gladius from its scabbard, then slowly and quietly cut a vertical line down the middle of the tent just big enough to fit through. The newly-formed flaps whipped in a gust of wind, and Victus ducked inside with his weapon at the ready. A quick scan revealed no figures, pony or otherwise. Instead, he was greeted by dozens of burning candles that cast their flickering glow on the dark interior. To his right, at the entrance, a trail of them marked a path between effigies of carved wood and rough, shaped bronze. The candles curved in and out, over and over, like a wax serpent. All around were offerings of food and drink, countless gemstones and coins of silver and gold. A place of worship and reverence, if ever there was one.

At the end of the tent, to Victus' far left, a shrine had been set up to honor their goddess, Nightmare Moon. The thought of someone worshiping Princess Celestia's corrupted sister made his skin crawl, a feeling that was only made worse by the bits and pieces of bloodied armor, severed horns and torn wings that formed a grotesque altar to a crude, circular stone that had been made to mimic the new moon.

Victus trotted over, carefully, not wanting to disturb anything that might make enough noise to give him away. He picked up the stone between his hooves and turned it around, knocking on it to make sure it wasn't hollow. It was heavy and rough, but did not seem unusual. Small gifts sat upon a trio of short pillars, and after a moment a single item caught his eye.

Surrounded by dark-colored flower petals and small wreaths of pine branches, a pendant sat by itself on the center-most pillar. It was not particularly large, perhaps as large around as his hoof, and it showed a stylized image of a deer and a pony in a circle, as if endlessly chasing one another. Whatever it was, it seemed to be important. Victus opened a pouch on his sword belt and swept the pendant, along with a few other small items, into it before securing it shut once more. Satisfied, he continued his search of the area, taking care to step over a small row of candles -- and inadvertently kicking an unseen piece of armor nearly half way across the tent. It clattered loudly and clanged into a stone plinth. His heart racing, he stood in place and listened with absolute concentration, his ears swiveling in all directions for any hint that he had been found out.

He heard the dagger before he saw it, an almost imperceptible fwip as it shot past his head. It buried itself in the canvas behind him and tore a gash that let in the rain. And then they were upon him.

Amidst the commotion of the gathered cultists, a single voice stood out, loud and powerful.

"Easy, my brothers and sisters. We shall take care of the griffon woman, I ask only for some space."

The crowd stepped back several paces, finally giving Gilias enough room to think. She looked up at the new figure now standing before her, a stout earth pony with strong legs and a close-cut mane of grey and silver. For a moment he studied her, looking her up and down with a questioning eye. Then he stuck out a hoof, and Gilias grabbed it and pulled herself back up.

"Welcome, sister," the big earth pony said in a voice full of stones. "I hear you are seeking refuge from the worshipers of the false Goddess."

Gilias wiped her mouth with her claw and nodded.

"Yes, I am. I had heard there were followers of Nightmare Moon -- the one, true Goddess -- in these woods. For two days I wandered through the mud and the rain, narrowly avoiding death at every turn, until finally I found you. Truly I am blessed to be alive."

Shouts of "Praise Nightmare Moon!" and "Glory to the Goddess!" sprung up around her.

"So it would seem. Tell me, griffon, what is your name?"

"Ginian, brother," Gilias replied with a bow of her head.

"Ginian. From where do you hail, Ginian?"

This one seemed to be more intelligent than the others. Fitting for a leader, she thought.

"A small village called Corinia, near the Whitetail border. Have you heard of it?"

Of course he wouldn't -- she'd made it up.

"No, I have not. Equestria is a vast place, however. You are a farmer?"

"I am."

"What do you grow, farmer?"

Just shut up and show me around already.

"Oh, you know," she said, shrugging. "Cotton, wheat, snap apples, that sort of thing. I'm a third generation farmer."

"I see. Good crops, all."

Gilias managed a half-smile, though the side of her face stung from the action.

"Right, thanks. Farming is, uh...good livin'. So...what's your name, brother?"

The earth pony, who clearly thought highly of himself, lifted a foreleg to the skies to emphasize his own grandeur.

"I am Validus Corinthius Ignacio Formalus the Third, servant of the one, true Goddess, Nightmare Moon, and enemy of all who would oppose Her glory."

Yep, definitely thought highly of himself.

"Well, Sir Validus, um, Corinthial Ignamus Formalwear, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." She cringed at her pronunciation of his name.

Smooth.

"Do not worry yourself with such trivialities," he said with a deep, barking laugh. "I am simply 'Brother Validus' to all who call this place home. I must admit, Sister Ginian, I am deeply moved by your tale of loss and sorrow. Your faithful pet, destroyed like a play thing. Your loving father, hung for all to see. Truly the Equestrians who follow Celestia are wicked. On that, you will find no quarrel with us."

"Thank you."

Validus stomped a hoof on the ground.

"Except..."

Uh-oh.

"Except...there is one, little thing I could use some...clarification on."

"Yes?"

"You see, Sister Ginian, I, too, am a farmer. Was a farmer. Many leagues east of here is the town of Crup Caverns which, despite its name, is not actually located in a cavern." He chuckled at his own joke. "Up until several months ago, when I was made to see the light in the darkness, I tended the fields with my uncle and two cousins. We grew all sorts of things -- fruits, grasses for hay, stalked plants of all kinds -- but there was one plant in particular I was fond of: cotton."

"You don't say? Then we have similar interests."

"Indeed. The problem, my griffon friend, is that cotton is a very particular plant. It requires a certain amount of moisture and a certain climate. That's why the eastern lands of Equestria are ideal. One place that cotton will not grow, however, is in the western expanses. If it could, the Whitetail would not receive much of their supply from trade with Equestria."

Shit. She had to think fast.

"Normally I would agree with you, but our crop is special; it is infused with zebra magic, blessed by their elders."

Validus was clearly becoming more suspicious. He took a step forward and looked her over, then ran a hoof across her side.

"We, uh...we aren't that familiar just yet, Brother Validus. I would ask--"

"No," he interrupted her,"it is I who am asking the questions."

Hurry the fuck up, Victus.

"I believe I have asked you much already, but there is one thing I have not mentioned just yet, griffon."

"What would that be?"

He pulled his hoof away from her side, clearing a long trail of wet mud and exposing the plumage underneath.

"What sort of farmer has battle scars?"

Shit!

"Uhh...I was a mercenary once. Back before--"

"Who did you fight?"

"The Zevran tribal la--"

"When did you fight them?"

"A long time ago, about--"

"Equestria has never had a conflict with the Zevran nation or its people, certainly not within your lifetime. The Griffon Empire, however..."

"I-I moved to Equestria. To farm."

"But you just said you were a third generation farmer, which would imply you've been in Equestria your entire life."

"Uhmm..."

The attitude of the crowd had changed completely. They were closing in on her, slowly growing more weary of her false tales. Validus lifted a foreleg, revealing the pommel of a sword under his cloak.

"Why are you here, griffon? Answer me! Who sent you?!"

Things were about to turn very bad, and quickly. Surrounded by cultists, under the watchful eye of their leader, and with no way to be sure of Victus' situation, Gilias did the only thing she could think of.

"Fuck it."

With lightning speed she dove for Validus, flashing her sharpened talons and digging them into his shoulders as the force of her impact rolled them both end over end. They skidded to a stop in the rain-wet mud, the onlookers momentarily in shock. Then, with as much strength as she could muster, she latched her beak onto the base of his neck and bit down. Hard. A spurt of warm, red blood sprayed her face as she tore through his jugular vein.

For a few, scant seconds there was silence. No one moved. Validus clutched at this throat, gasping in panicked breaths that soon turned into wet gurgles of blood and rain.

A distinctive sound came from somewhere behind her, the clashing of steel on steel. Victus. It had to be.

With a powerful flap of her wings she took to the air, leaving behind the gathered ponies who quickly turned to a vengeful mob out for her blood, but her wings were heavy with rain and sticky with mud. Sprays of debris fell from her with every attempt to stay in the air, but it was too much. With every bit of effort in her body she pointed herself at the sound of battle, the large tent that she was sure was her only chance of escaping.

Victus jumped back, the short blade of a dagger narrowly missing his throat. Two cultists lashed out again, their movements sharp but increasingly frustrated. One of them turned around and bucked with his hind legs, leaving a dent in the the heavy stone pillar and knocking it on its side. Victus took the opportunity to deliver a sideways stab into the stallion's flank, his gladius plunging through the anvil-shaped destiny mark, tearing muscle and drawing a stream of blood as he withdrew it. The cultist fell to the ground with a shout, but his partner was fast. A unicorn mare, muted pink in color, shot out a dagger at Victus. It buried itself in his shoulder with a burning lash of pain, and he stumbled back against the tent wall with a grunt. A second blade, aimed at his neck, was deflected by a quick slash. The dagger clattered to the ground but was immediately picked back up in a shimmering field of purple magic. For having such a petite frame, he thought grimly, the mare before him was surprisingly practical in combat. She hadn't relied on any showy moves or spouted any religious rhetoric, instead solely focusing on her target with a murderous determination.

The tent glowed purple as she yanked the second dagger from his shoulder, drawing it up as she pulled. Victus felt his left foreleg give out. Immediately he was set upon by the previously injured stallion, who was trying mightily to cave his skull in with powerful hoof stomps. Victus lifted a knee and smashed it into the stallion's testicles as hard as he could, again and again, until his opponent collapsed in pain. He bit down on the handle of his gladius and shoved it as far as he could into the stallion's chest, then kicked his body to the side. A long, narrow blade tore across his cheek; the unicorn mare was already trying to finish him off.

Just then, as a second dagger flashed toward him, the side of the tent exploded open.

Gilias had landed in a heap, the sheer weight of her body tearing a hole through the canvas. She tumbled and rolled, spraying the inside of the tent with water and knocking over countless candles and piles of flowers. It took a moment to get her bearings. Opposite her, against the wall, a bloodied Victus looked in with wide eyes. A dead stallion lay at his side. To his left, an attractive unicorn mare levitated a pair of crimson-slicked daggers. She was staring with her mouth agape, unsure of what to make of the griffon that had smashed through the tent.

"Victus!" Gilias shouted, pulling herself to her feet and scrambling to get traction with her claws.

The sound of the mob was rapidly approaching. It didn't take long for the mare to realize whose side the griffon was on. She focused on Gilias and shot both of her daggers out, sending one flying harmlessly through the trailing feathers of Gilias' left wing and the other just a bit too high, but she corrected and pulled them back to her side.

"Gilias, catch!" Victus tossed the sword to her, and Gilias reached out to grasp it in her claws -- only to have it intercepted in mid-air by a blisteringly fast dagger. Both blades carried on to the back corner of the tent and clattered to the ground. Before Gilias could react a stabbing pain radiated out from her thigh. The unicorn was now galloping at Gilias at full speed, her horn flashing with magic as she drove her weapon of choice deeper. Enraged by the pain coursing through her, Gilias pushed herself off with her powerful hind legs and tackled the mare to the ground. They struggled with one another, neither able to get the advantage.

"Skraw'kan, Equestrian!" Gilias shouted. She slammed her skull into the mare's in a fierce headbutt. Dazed, but still in control, she grabbed hold of her attacker's face and delivered pounding blows of her fists to the side of the mare's head, then slammed it into the ground with all of her strength until the unicorn's horn no longer glowed with magic.

"Gilias! Gilias, we have to go!" Victus hobbled to her side, still clutching his gladius. Blood seeped from his shoulder and stained his powder-darkened coat. His voice snapped her out of her trance, and she turned to look at him with tired but firm eyes.

"Right. Did...did you get what you came for?" She yanked the dagger from her thigh, swearing loudly and tossing it aside.

"I think so. Come on, the others will have seen your duress. Pray they get to us before the cultists do."

The sky flashed and thunder rumbled as they left the large tent, briefly illuminating four figures galloping toward them. One of them shouted to Victus.

"We must make haste, Decanus! There are more cultists than I care to think about, and they are all very eager to catch you!"

"So I noticed, Sertis! Fall in at my side, I am wounded!"

"He has a real talent for understatement," Gilias remarked.

Sertis did as he was ordered, supporting Victus on his shoulder. He grimaced at the torn wound left by the dagger.

"Gods, what happened in there?"

"I'll tell you when we are not in imminent danger of being ripped apart!"

Within seconds the others were at his side with their weapons drawn, the sound of the massed cultists building to a roar that had to be shouted over to be heard.

"I should have acted sooner," Chiron said, "this is my fault!"

"You can beat yourself up over it after we've escaped with our lives!" Victus gritted his teeth against the pain and turned to Steelspark. "Did you manage to get a count of their number?"

"For what it's worth, yes!" he answered between labored breaths. "At least forty, perhaps fifty! Mostly ponies, with the odd zebra mixed in!"

"Anything that could chase us?"

"I can't be sure, their cloaks were--"

A splash of water and mud marked the sudden arrival of a cultist, a small axe clutched in his mouth, as he sent Steelspark sprawling. Powerful wing flaps kept the attacking pegasus steady, and he barreled into Chiron with the head of his axe crossing low. Chiron dodged the deadly weapon and reared up, letting the momentum of the pegasus' swing carry him down into the mud. With a swift stomp the ground mixed with a stream of red, and the pegasus was no more. Precious seconds passed as the legionaries regrouped. Hastily tossed blades rained down around them, digging into the earth with wet squelches and muddy thwacks.

"Get to the trees! It's our only chance!"

A large conifer loomed ahead, and they quickly took cover behind it. Several spears dug themselves into the thick bark as Victus took a brief moment to catch his breath.

"Blades out, legionaries! Split attack on my mark!"

The mass of cultists moved ever closer, shouting and swearing in their drive for the blood of those who had wronged them.

"Hold! Hoooold!"

The first of the cloaked forms came into view, and he saw what was waiting for him.

"Now!"

As one the legionaries attacked in a three-tiered vertical formation; Victus and Gilias took to the air and dove for the rear-most fanatics, while Steelspark and Chiron threw themselves bodily into the front of the mob with their blades stabbing forward. As they made their move, Rockfall and Sertis used their magic to yank spears and daggers from their foes' grasp, turning them around in mid-air before plunging them back into their owners. A furious counter-attack, the epitome of violence of action -- a maneuver of Gilias' sharpened skills and battle-honed mind.

Almost immediately the mob of Nightmare Moon worshipers began to break, shocked and horrified by the bloodshed wrought upon them in such a short time. Many of them turned to run, their spirits broken. Some even succeeded in making it. But not many.

Less than a minute had passed. Victus stood alongside his soldiers, his mouth red with blood that had run down from the blade of his gladius, his breathing heavy. They had slaughtered nearly two dozen without loss of their own. Against overwhelming odds, they had succeeded. Relieved, satisfied, and proud of his stallions, Victus dropped his weapon into the mud.

"Well done, brothers."

Only then did he allow himself to collapse.

17 - Swiftwing

Hundreds of feet above the surface of Equestria, Tercio Krosus hung on to his seat for dear life. He held the ornate sky carriage's cushions in a death grip, white-knuckled ever since he'd left Canterlot. The vehicle drifted through the air, pulled by two pairs of gold-clad pegasi who were securely strapped in to the yoke up front. Barely any time had passed from when they'd first ascended, but for Tercio it felt like a very long time indeed.

"I assure you, you're in no danger," Princess Celestia said once again. She had tried, repeatedly, to reassure him ever since they left the ground. It had amounted to little.

"I appreciate the concern, Princess, but until today I had not realized I had a fear of heights." A gust of wind caused the carriage to drop unexpectedly, just enough to elicit a gasp and a surprised swear. "If the gods had intended me to fly they would have given me wings!"

"You know, not many citizens get to see the inside of the royal sky carriage, much less ride in it on an official venture. Just think of it as a perk of the job." Celestia calmly sipped from a cup of berry juice, amused by the usually steadfast human who was reduced to a shaking child.

"Begging your pardon, Princess, but I will happily think of it as such when we are back on the ground in one piece."

Flying across the country was the last thing Tercio had expected to be doing when he checked the duty roster that morning. Guarding the palace doors, maybe, or patrolling the perimeter, but "sky carriage escort"? That was something else entirely. He'd heard of it from time to time -- it came up every so often, typically assigned to the most senior of praetorians when the Princess was traveling away from the security of Canterlot. Being chosen, despite his newly-promoted status, was unexpected to say the least.

He'd asked for clarification, of course. When Imperator Stonewall arrived shortly after he was immediately set upon by Tercio, who insisted it must have been a mistake.

"We don't make mistakes," Stonewall had answered decisively. "The Princess asked for you personally. You will do as she requests. It is not open for debate."

Further questioning did, at least, reveal the reason for Celestia's trip: she was heading north to the predominantly griffon town of Swiftwing, a place that was feeling uneasy about the war, and had expressed a desire to pack up and leave for the safety of near-by Winterclaw, within the borders of the Griffon Empire. Apparently such trips were not entirely uncommon, and were considered "low risk" visits. "You win hearts and minds, you win wars," Stonewall had said. Two hours and a marching pack full of winter clothing later, Tercio found himself speeding into the sky with Celestia and her retinue of sky carriage pegasi.

The bumps and jostles of turbulent air soon gave way to clearer skies, allowing Tercio to calm himself for the first time. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making sure not to look out from the small windows to either side. Just because he was flying, it didn't mean he wanted to see exactly how far he would fall to his death.

"Feeling better?" Celestia asked. She looked genuinely concerned. "I had no idea air travel would be such an experience for you. I suppose it's something I take for granted after so much time."

Tercio nodded quickly. "Somewhat better. Please do not ask me to watch the ground rush by, however, or I fear I shall empty the contents of my stomach."

"It's a start. Would you care for some blackberry juice to calm your nerves?"

A carafe and cup floated nearly motionlessly in a cloud of yellow magic in front of him.

"No, thank you. I shall be alright, I'm simply going to--" a slight bump bleached his face once more, "--to need some time to adjust." Tercio planted himself in his seat, relaxing his grip slightly. "If you don't mind me asking, Princess, why would you choose me of all people to go with you? Surely you'd be better served by a pegasus. One imagines they would not have the fear of turning into a crater."

Celestia laughed quietly. "Probably not. If you'd like to know, I chose you because you're a fine soldier, and because of what you said some time ago, during our dinner."

"Oh?"

"You'd mentioned that you felt like you were a curiosity, and that your unique form made you stand out as something be singled out and mocked."

Tercio cringed; he regretted saying such a thing, even if it was the truth.

"I do recall something similar, yes," he replied.

"I thought about it for some time, and I came to the conclusion that your apperance and stature could be used as an asset to Equestria, and not just as a soldier."

His curiosity piqued, he motioned for her to continue.

"You see, Tercio, the town of Swiftwing is very different from Canterlot, or Marestopholous, or even Summervale. It is a place where griffons from the north have made their home, mixing with the local Equestrian population. It is an icon of the very ideals Equestria holds so dear -- equality, tolerance, love, respect. It is one of a hoof-full of such places, and I value it and its citizens greatly. But Swiftwing is scared. They're scared that the Griffon Empire will soon join the war, and, as a mixed population, they fear that they will end up being on the wrong side of the conflict no matter who they ally with."

Celestia finished her cup and gently placed it down beside her before continuing.

"I do not think such a thing is remotely possible, but I have insight that they do not. That is why I've brought you with me. If they see you among us, speak to you, perhaps, then it could go a long way towards easing tensions not just here, but across the area. The griffons have voiced concern that we're only looking after equine troubles. They feel like strangers in their own homes. I thought that you, being not just physically different, but the only one of your kind, could help convince them that we seek to take care of all of our citizens, regardless of race or species. Think of yourself as a representative of all non-pony beings. A diplomat."

Tercio tapped a foot as he considered her words.

"So you want me to, what, tell them my life story?"

"Nothing so sweeping as that, no," Celestia clarified. "Truth be told we'll be improvising, but I'm confident in you. You're a born leader, they'll listen to you."

"Or at least have someone else to stare at in slack-jawed surprise," Tercio added. "Very well, if you think I can be of assistance, I will gladly do whatever it takes. Although I am not exactly a public speaker, much less an impromptu diplomat," he laughed to himself.

"I'm sure you'll do fine. Just be yourself, Tercio."

A chance to help others who felt like outcasts at times -- it was something he couldn't possibly say no to. He only hoped he could be as sure as Celestia seemed to be.

Swiftwing was unlike any place Tercio has ever seen; serene, strikingly beautiful -- and dreadfully cold. Despite it being early autumn the ground was already coated in a thin layer of snow, and a chill wind gently rustled the bare branches of the tall trees that dotted the outlying area of the small town. Tercio found himself exceptionally thankful for the winter clothing he'd brought along: snow boots that went up to his knee, treated to be water-proof, thick tunics and outer garments of fur and cotton for his chest and shoulders, woolen pants and hand wrappings, and a standard-issue snow cap, thankfully without the holes for a pony's ears. Fully bundled up, he almost felt warm. Almost. No amount of perimeter patrol seemed to be enough to fight back the biting cold. He envied the pegasi and griffons who made up the majority of the population, both of whom were immune to all but the most severe of temperature swings.

Celestia's meeting with the village leaders went on far longer than expected; morning turned to afternoon, afternoon to evening, evening to night. A few times he'd been called upon to speak with a griffon or pony, and he'd always introduced himself and smiled and made himself sociable, but the day seemed to simply drag on. His attempts to relate to the villagers seemed to fall on deaf ears, and while none of them mocked him directly he could still catch whispers and back-handed remarks whenever he was leaving.

The pegasus praetorians were no friendlier. Even among praetorian ranks the fliers in charge of Celestia's sky carriage were considered to be in their own league, an exceptionally tight-knit group of no more than a dozen pegasi who rarely conversed with outsiders. An entire day's worth of security and patrol had resulted in merely a handful of words exchanged between them. Conversation, it seemed, was not their strong point.

As the sun finally set over the horizon and the sky grew ever darker, Tercio was finally relieved of his duties by a pegasus who simply nodded as they changed post. Cold and hungry, he headed for the large tent that had been erected to shelter him and the others, a steady stream of smoke billowing from the center. A fire pit blazed away as he opened the canvas flap, warming him and filling his lungs with the scent of a hearty vegetable stew cooking in a large pot over the flames. He quickly made a bowl for himself and stepped into the overhang that doubled as a look-out post, finding it empty except for a mat of straw and furs. A small camp fire crackled and sparked as he took a seat, enough to keep away the cold breeze that played through his short hair and prickled his cheeks whenever it gusted. Thankful to be off his feet and with a warm meal in his stomach, Tercio ate in silence, leaning back against a stack of winter coats that went unused by the pegasi. It did not take long for his eyelids to grow heavy, and soon he slipped in and out of consciousness in a peaceful fit of half-asleep haze.

Crunching snow startled him awake, gladius instinctively clutched in his hand. He relaxed when it saw it was merely Celestia returning with a pair of pegasi guards in tow. The princess bowed to her escorts.

"Thank you Jetstream, Monsoon. You may retire for the night."

Her praetorian fliers dipped to their knees in admiration, then trotted past Tercio and disappeared into the tent.

"Apologies for the confusion, Princess, I should not have been so lax. The day has been long, it seems."

"No need to apologize, my friend. If anyone can sympathize with a long day, it is without a doubt myself."

She motioned to a spot next to him.

"Would you mind if I share your camp fire?"

"Of course not," he said quickly, moving himself over to make room for her. A thought went through his head of there not being enough cushioning for her to sit down, and he scrambled to find something for her. "I, uh, seem to be somewhat short on royal amenities..."

"Do not concern yourself, a winter coat is quite enough, I assure you," she answered in amusement. Celestia took the few steps over to his side and sat down on her haunches with a quiet sigh of relief, closing her eyes and letting the fire warm her. "Time has a way of dragging on when one spends the day conversing with those who would prefer not to see reason. It is good to simply be off my hooves."

"So I imagine. I must say, I do not envy the politicking and debating that you go through so constantly. Dealing with it day in and day out would drive me mad."

Celestia smirked. "Sometimes I wonder if I haven't reached that point already. There are those who would argue such a thing happened a long time ago."

"For what it's worth, you seem fairly reasonable to me," Tercio chuckled.

"That's good to know. At least someone still thinks so."

He motioned to the distant buildings.

"So the griffon mayor, Gorin. He did not seem to be my biggest fan. Neither did most of the ponies or griffons around here. Am I mistaken, or did our planned ambassadorial duties not go as well as we'd hoped?"

Celestia shrugged. "Gorin and his ilk are stubborn and proud. They do not show it outwardly, but trust me when I say your efforts were not in vain. I saw it in their actions, heard it in their voices; they wouldn't admit it, of course, but you held no small degree of sway over them. Gorin's wife, in particular, was surprised to hear you verifying my claims."

"I'm glad I could be of assistance, but I think I'll stick with being a soldier for the time being. It's far less stressful."

Above them, the night sky sparkled with a million points of light, as clear and crisp as anywhere Tercio had ever been. Vast ribbons of green and blue danced across the heavens in curtains of glowing aether, reflected in the wide river that ran parallel to Swiftwing's eastern expanse. He was struck by how still and calm the night felt, and as he stared into the wondrous night he marveled at the beauty he'd never imagined.

"I'd heard tale of these...winter lights, I think they're called. My father used to talk about how he would see them every night for months at a time when he was working in the northern lands. He said they were like the most delicate silks of green and blue and orange, stretching across the entire sky." He laughed softly and added, "I never believed him until this moment."

Celestia smiled and motioned to the glittering lights.

"Many years ago, when I was still a filly, my mother used to weave the most beautiful displays in the night sky. That was her talent, her calling in life. Brilliant gossamer sheets of the most vivid colors you could ever imagine. It came to her as easily as paint and canvas comes to others. Even something as wonderful as the very sight before your eyes pales in comparison."

It was hard to imagine such a thing. Having never ventured further north than Canterlot, Tercio was astonished by how striking it was. Did the northerners take such a thing for granted? Was it just another part of the night for them? He couldn't picture it ever becoming routine.

"I know 'winter lights' is a common term for Equestrians," Celestia continued, "but Luna and I always called it something else entirely, if only to honor our mother's memory: the Aurora."

Aurora. A fittingly regal name for something so grand, he thought.

"What were they like?" he asked. "Your mother and father, that is. If you don't mind me asking. I wouldn't want to pry on something so personal. I only ask because I've never heard you, or anyone else, bring them up."

Celestia seemed lost in thought for a few heartbeats. Tercio hoped he hadn't overstepped his bounds.

"I'm not sure where to begin," she laughed quietly. "It is a very long history." She spread her large wings out and stretched before tucking them back in. "Aurora, my mother, was as gentle and kind as any mare I've ever seen, and she was ever so lovely. Ponies often commented on her striking looks; she had a white coat, but it was tinted ever so slightly with just a hint or the lightest orange. Her mane flowed with soft pinks and oranges that faded into each other like the gentlest of sunsets. What I remember most, though, is her eyes -- a deep pink that, when they caught the sunlight just so, shined like polished crystal."

"Like yours?" Tercio asked.

She smiled. "My own eyes pale in comparison, I assure you."

"You do yourself a disservice, Princess. I would say they're quite lovely."

Celestia blushed lightly. "Thank you, that's very kind. You would not believe it to see me now, but when I was a filly I had a mane and tail very similar to hers. I looked quite different."

Tercio smirked. "You had a pink mane? Really?"

"I did! As I said, it was a long time ago."

"Curious, I have not heard of someone's mane changing color as they grow older."

"That is a story for another time. It's...complicated."

She pointed a gold-clad hoof at the gently waving lights overhead.

"Just as Luna now controls -- or rather, controlled -- the night sky, my mother once created the sunrise and sunset. The aurora, the so-called winter lights, were of her creation. She said to me once, when I was very young, that even the fading of the light should feel as comforting and familiar as the warmest of blankets. Together, she and my father created beauty that transcends the ages. The lights are a testament to her skill, even after all these years. So long as Equestria lives, so too will her legacy."

"She sounds like a wonderful mare. I only regret having never seen such a thing until tonight. It's simply stunning."

"I think she would be very happy to hear that, thank you. My father often complimented her on it."

"Was he like you and Luna as well?"

"He was. Luna gets her coat and mane from him, though she lacks the shapes of endless, swirling stars that flowed through his hair. Argo Navis, was his name -- very much a name from the old ways -- though everyone simply referred to him as King Argo. He created the constellations that every school filly learns, and he splashed the heavens with the great band of stars that spills across the night sky like a river of milk and honey."

Celestia leaned back and smiled at an amusing memory.

"In public he was the opposite of my mother, self-assured and sometimes boisterous. He was the latest in a long line of rulers that had founded not just Equestria but nearly the entire world. While he was never cruel or unnecessarily rude, his attitude could be a bit...off-putting, at times. Thankfully my mother was there to ease him into a softer, easier way of thinking. It took a long time, many hundreds of years before we were born and nearly a hundred after that, but eventually he became the symbol of Equestria's ideals that live on to this day.

They were wonderful parents. Luna and I were never left wanting for anything; if we were scared or unsure, they were always there for us. If we were curious or eager to learn, they always had answers. I know now we were privileged to have grown up as the children of the most powerful ponies in the world, but we never thought of it that way. They were never King and Queen to us. Just Mother and Father."

A golden-armored pegasus trotted up and saluted smartly.

"Your Highness, perimeter patrols reveal nothing of interest. We are, as of this moment, quite safe."

Tercio respected the stallion's bearing and professionalism, even if his attitude throughout the day had been less than personable.

"Thank you," Celestia answered, bowing her head. "Please, help yourself to a meal and a warm bed roll. You have served well today, my friend."

"Thank you, Princess." He eyed Tercio with caution. "Shall I arrange for a secondary escort until you retire for the night?"

"That won't be necessary," Tercio answered for her, letting his annoyance at such an implication come through. Celestia jumped in before the praetorians could butt heads any further.

"No, but thank you for the offer."

The pegasus locked eyes with Tercio for a brief time, then saluted once more and disappeared inside the tent. Tercio rubbed his jaw, the rough stubble of two days unshaven hair scratching against his fingers.

"I get the distinct feeling he does not particularly care for me."

"Whirlwind is a good stallion, but he does not trust others easily. While good for his duty, it's not so good for making friends. Give him time."

"As you say." A gust of wind kicked up a light drift of snow, stinging his cheeks. He wished he had something hot to drink. "Thank you for sharing about your mother and father. I know I have no right to ask of such things."

Celestia placed a hoof on his knee.

"Tercio, you needn't worry about upsetting me with something as simple as a question about my family. I may miss my parents and my sister dearly, but they are always with me in my thoughts and in my heart. I could talk about them for days, and indeed, there are so many things I could discuss, but that is for another time." She smiled warmly. "It is not often I talk about such old memories. Sometimes sharing the stories of my mother and father makes it feel like they're still here."

"I understand. To be honest, I asked because I sometimes wonder about my own parents -- my real ones. I wonder if they miss me, or if they're still alive out there, somewhere." He looked at Celestia with a skewed frown. "I don't even know where I come from. I used to ask my adoptive mother when I was younger, but she always said I 'fell from the stars', and that they'd taken me in because they wanted me to have a good life. I'm grateful for them, truly I am, but I wanted to ask...do you know anything more? Do you know who my real parents are?"

Celestia was quiet for what felt like a long time. Tercio prodded further when he did not get an answer.

"Princess? Please, if you know anything..."

"It's been some time," she finally answered, "but I can recall it as if it were yesterday. You're sure you want to know?"

"Of course. Wouldn't you be curious if you were in my position?"

"I suppose I would be. Very well, then." She looked at Tercio with her warm, reassuring pink eyes. "Your mother -- adoptive mother -- found you lying in a field of grass on the western edge of the Summvervale outskirts, late one night. She said she had seen a star fall from the sky, so close she could almost touch it. Something drove her to find out what had fallen so close to her home, and so she discovered you. To hear her tell it, she was terrified at first, as most anyone would have been; you were unlike anything she had ever seen, so different from a foal, or any creature Equestrians know of. She rushed off to bring her husband to see what she had found."

Celestia smiled.

"You were as scared of them as they were of you, and you cried and cried while they decided what they were supposed to do with you. Grace took you into the house, and after a short time they decided that I should know about it. So, a few days later, Luna and myself showed up at their residence after hearing tale of a strange child that had appeared from the heavens."

Tercio thought over what he had been told, imagining Grace and Roughshod scurrying about to find a place for his infant self. He could almost picture the panic on his mother's face, the quiet consideration of his father as he sat in his favorite chair.

"Am I the first human Equestria has seen? Truly?"

"Yes. Luna was the one who thought of it; an ancient word, from before Equestria's founding, that was used to describe exiles from other lands that were taken in by the earth pony tribes. 'Human'. She thought it fitting."

We cannot afford to take the chance.

And what would you have me do? End his life? Cast him out? He is a child, Luna.

He is a child for now. One day he will be an adult, and what then? He is dangerous, sister.

I will not deny him the chance at a good life, nor will I hear objections to such. That is final.

"--when I previously asked. Princess? Are you alright?"

Celestia blinked, jerking suddenly as Tercio's voice brought her back to the present.

"Y-Yes, my apologies. The day must have taken a greater toll than I had imagined. What was your question?"

"I was asking why my mother and father didn't tell me this themselves. They always seemed so hesitant."

"I...I cannot say. If I had to venture a guess, I'd speculate they likely did not want to reveal such a thing until they thought you were ready."

"Ready?" he laughed bitterly. "I have lived in Equestria for thirty-two years. At what point did they think I would be ready?"

"As I said, it's merely speculation." Celestia could feel his mood turning sour. "Do not think ill of them, Tercio. They have always done what is best, and I'd say they've done a fine job. After all, it's not just anyone who serves as a Praetorian."

"I know, and I'm glad they did give me a chance, but..." Tercio ran a hand through his short hair and let out a deep exhale. "What happened after you and Luna showed up?"

"We, too, were unsure of where to keep you. Typically, abandoned children are placed with a family of their own species -- griffons, zebras, deer -- but obviously there was none to match you with. It was your mother who suggested you stay with them." She laughed and said, "you should have seen your father's reaction. They had just had a colt less than a year prior, and the idea of raising not just a foal but a human child nearly gave him an anxiety attack right there on the spot. Fortunately, your mother can be very persuasive."

"Don't I know it." He chuckled at the memory of being guilt-tripped into venturing into town for supplies on a regular basis. "She's always had a way with words. The only thing I know for sure from that time is that she named me Tercio after her grandfather, the third-born of his family. Apparently she held him in very high regard. From there, it was simply a matter of adding her family's surname, and thus I was given a name: Tercio Krosus. I've always thought it a good name."

"Indeed it is." Celestia stretched her wing out and placed it around Tercio's shoulders. "I cannot say who your real parents are, or where you were born, and that is something I cannot take the sting away from; but I can, without a shadow of a doubt, say that they would be proud. Your adoptive mother and father did their best by you."

"Considering I'm sitting here discussing it with you, I think they must have done something right." He looked up at the gentle streamers of light that played overhead. "All my life I've wondered where I come from. I may never know for sure, but maybe that doesn't matter as much as I'd thought. After all, if I'd never fallen to Equestria, I would have never had the pleasure of sitting here beside you on such a beautiful night. If I'm counting my blessings, that is surely one of them." He placed a hand on her shoulder and placed the other over his heart. "Thank you sharing so much with me, Celestia. It is not often I am given such courtesy by those around me." Tercio smirked to himself. "And here I used to think you completely unapproachable. Joining the Praetorians was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Princess Celestia dipped her head and returned his smile.

"You're very welcome. And thank you. It's nice to simply sit down and talk sometimes, especially with such good company."

Late in the night, with the near-by fire crackling pleasantly, Tercio rolled onto his back to find a more comfortable sleeping position. Half-asleep, he cradled his back and mumbled, then drifted off once more. At first, it felt like a dream, something brushing against his shoulders, pressing down on them. Only when it became uncomfortable did he groggily awaken -- and found a pegasus pushing him into the ground with all of its might. He gasped and grabbed for his weapon, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Don't fucking move, human," the pegasus said. In the darkness of the tent Tercio could not make out who it was. Only a silhouette revealed the pony's form, backlit by the fire pit. "Not a sound, do you hear me? Your gladius is in the corner. You may retrieve it once I am done with you."

The pony was strong, far stronger than he looked, and even as Tercio struggled to force himself up the force on his body intensified to the point of pain. He was immobilized.

"What do you want?" he asked in a furious whisper. "You had better have a damn good reason for me to not run you through!"

"Shut up. You are not to speak or I will crush your wind pipe like a straw of hay." For emphasis the pegasus forced his hoof against Tercio's throat, nearly gagging him. "I know what you are. I know what you're capable of. Word gets around; Polaris, in the training ring. Beaten to a pulp. The assassin, down in the crystal depths. We were told you killed him with your blade. But no blade inflicts the wounds that stallion had on his body. Word has it you're some kind of monster, a murderous creature with a hair trigger and no control over it."

"How dare you even--"

"I said, do not speak." The pegasus continued while Tercio gasped for breath. "I don't know how you managed to squirm your way into the ranks of the Praetorian Guard, but know this: I am watching you, and if I think you pose a threat to the Princess in any way I will not hesitate to watch you drown in your own blood."

Tercio struggled in anger, determined to gain the upper hand, before a swift kick to the side of his head turned everything as black as night.

18 - From a Single Spark

Imperator Stonewall approached the towering double doors that marked the entrance to Princess Celestia's throne room. He marveled at their construction; intricate decorations of oak and cherry wood that concealed metal reinforcement bars, the result of the Nightmare Moon cult's brutal attack on Canterlot and the palace itself several months prior. No battering ram would break down the doors this time.

"Krosus," he said by way of acknowledgement. His artificial foreleg clacked on the tile with every step.

"Stonewall, sir. Good to see you, as always." For the last several hours Tercio had taken the languorous job of guarding the throne room doors. Security had lightened as of late, with the standard two guards typically reduced to one. With the Whitetail losing in the west, and the Nightmare Moon cults being rooted out regularly, Canterlot had mostly returned to its pre-attack feeling of comfort and familiarity.

"I thought I told you to knock off that 'sir' shit, Krosus."

"And I thought you were supposed to address me by my first name now, sir."

They shared a good-natured laugh and Tercio relaxed his posture, leaning his spear and shield against the wall.

"Is there something I can do for you while I'm standing here doing nothing in particular?"

"As a matter of fact, you can." Stonewall stuck out his wooden leg. "If you could polish this for a couple of hours it would look much better, I think."

"As much as I appreciate the generous offer, Imperator, I'm going to have to pass."

"Suit yourself, human. But in all seriousness, do you know of the Princess' whereabouts? I believe her schedule is free for the next hour or so, and our dual-wielding instructor is about to arrive."

It was the first Tercio had heard about Celestia's continued combat training since it had been mentioned during their sparring session. He was pleased to learn she intended to do as she'd promised.

"Really? He has taken his time getting here. Who might he be?"

"I think you'd probably like to see for yourself."

Stonewall turned and let out a sharp whistle that echoed through the great hall. A few seconds later the doors leading to the courtyard opened with a groan and a familiar figure stepped through. He was a unicorn of average size, with a coat of light grey and a purple mane hidden beneath his same-colored, crested helm. His polished armor shone with gold detailing, and a purple cloak emblazoned with intertwined olive branches flowed over his back as he trotted.

"I believe you're familiar with Praetorian Polaris."

Polaris. Tercio had heard word of the newly-anointed praetorian's survival, but several months had passed since the last time he'd set eyes upon him. Before the attack on Canterlot, before his induction into Celestia's personal cadre. Tercio stared in disbelief for what felt like a long time. Polaris approached and bowed his head.

"Tercio. It has been some time, hasn't it?"

Stonewall pushed his way through the doors to the throne room.

"I'll leave you two to catch up. Krosus, your replacement will be here shortly. Do try to avoid falling on your spear until then."

The heavy doors slammed shut, leaving Tercio and Polaris alone.

"What, no warm greeting for an old sparring partner? Or did the assassin take your tongue?"

Polaris was as sharp as ever, though physically he was different. He still maintained an inherent handsomeness, but his face was now pockmarked and rough. Patches of skin showed through where his coat had not grown back, or could not grow back, and one side of his face appeared to bulge slightly over his cheek bone. Tercio was overtaken by harsh realization.

I did this to him.

He searched for the words, but could not find them. Instead, he settled for a simple "welcome back."

"It's good to be back, believe me. Convalescing in a hospital bed has taken up far too much of my time as of late. If I never smell another medicae concoction it will be too soon."

Tercio managed a small laugh, but his heart was not in it.

"Right. Too much time."

Polaris cocked his head, then removed his helm and set it beside him.

"It's alright. You can say what's on your mind. I'm relatively sure I know what it is: you're concerned about my appearance, aren't you?"

"Well, I--"

"I know what I look like. You won't offend me."

Tercio let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "Gods above, Polaris, I'm so sorry. First there was the sparring ring, and then the night I came to see you in the medicae building, and all of this ridiculous matter of some sort of...trigger word! Like I'm a trained beast jumping at the will of some cruel master! You deserved to be fighting alongside the princess, not laid up in a bed because I could not control myself."

Tercio removed his own helmet, its weight suddenly feeling like a stone.

"And now you're disfigured because of me. I alone am responsible." He laughed bitterly to himself. "You would not be wrong to despise me. I would accept such a thing without objection."

Polaris leaned against the wall beside him.

"When I was under medicae care," he began, "I wasn't sure what to think. I was hurt, both physically and mentally. I was angry; angry at you, for lashing out at me. Angry at myself, for allowing such a thing to best me. I spent my days and nights in pain, bleeding and bruised under a mountain of bandages and healing poultices, trapped within my own body but unable to move or speak. It tainted my thoughts, and when you showed up that night, when I finally regained control of myself, all of it came flooding back to me. I wanted to hate you. That was why I couldn't speak with you at length. I forced myself to remain civil, but there was no weight behind my words."

He sighed.

"And then the attack came. I was barely strong enough to stand, but once the sound of battle echoed through the palace grounds I knew I could not simply lie in my cot and wait to die. By the time I managed to obtain a weapon the palace had been over run. I fear I would have not lived to see the morn if it wasn't for the three apothecaries who showed me another way out of the building, a passage built into the very walls that took us around and behind the cultists to an old spire."

Polaris lifted a hoof and pointed to a distant tower, visible through the large windows that let in colored sunlight through their stained glass facades.

"It was there we met up with a few others from the Royal Guard, and together we held out against the brutes for nearly an hour. At some point we received terrible news -- the throne room had fallen, and Princess Celestia was nowhere to be found. We feared the worst. I feared the worst. I was overcome with grief and anger, and it drove me to fight despite my wounds."

"How many of you were there?" Tercio asked.

"No more than a dozen. We held the doorway against numbers three times our own. Th apothecaries and surgeons could do little more than offer encouragement and treat our wounded with what little supplies they had on hoof. It was...not a time I remember fondly."

"I can relate. Our small band held the throne room after the cultists battered down these very doors. There were so many of them. That's what I remember the most: the endless pouring of bodies, so many that they were climbing over the dead to get to us. Poor Venerin, he was the first to fall."

"I heard. He was a good stallion," Polaris added.

"Indeed so. How long did you hold out, the dozen of you?"

"I cannot say with certainty. It felt like a very long time, though it could have been only a few moments. At some point, I don't know exactly when, the weakness of my body and the strain of my continued fighting seemed to simply...disappear, I suppose you could say. I cared not for my own safety. I only wanted to kill as many of those damned brutes as I could manage. I wanted to see them bleed. And at that moment, even in the middle of the carnage, a thought entered the back of my mind: at long last, I understood you, or a small portion of you. Not where your trigger word came from or why you knew it, of course, but I understood why you fought so tenaciously, why you'd attacked me so. That pure, unbridled rage...it gave you strength. It was intoxicating. In that moment I felt I could take on the entirety of the cult by myself."

Tercio flashed back to the times he'd been under the control of that damnable word, a prisoner in his own body; brief glimpses and snippets of time stained red. Had he actually enjoyed it? Some perverse part of him, the part that screamed for blood until it was all he could hear, had enjoyed it immensely. The feeling of his fists against Polaris' face, the impact of flesh and bone. The spray of arterial blood as he ripped Lacertus' throat out with his bare hands had been nearly orgasmic, in a twisted sort of way. The thinking part of him, the personality that was trapped behind the other force within him, had felt sick at every second of the fight. Even now, his stomach turned at the thought of it.

"Polaris...I'm not sure I would put it that way. This force inside of me, it goes counter to everything we've learned. We're soldiers, not barbarians. We fight as one, with honed skills and precise movements. When I am under the influence of that word, I can't think of anything but dispatching my enemy as quickly as possible. Self-preservation doesn't even factor into my actions; there is only the blood lust. I would not call such a thing 'intoxicating'. In fact, I am ashamed that it even happens at all."

Polaris scratched at his mane. "Perhaps I chose the wrong words, and for that I apologize. I did not mean to offend, I merely sought to sympathize with your, uh, condition. Allow me to try again." He cleared his throat loudly. "I forgive you, Tercio."

"You do? Truly?"

"Yes. I did not understand what drove you to attack me. I did not understand why you reacted the way you did when I brought up that word. But now I know. Word travels quickly among our ranks. I heard of how you saved the lives of Stonewall, Thunderburst, Rimeberry and even Princess Celestia. Somehow, you controlled that anger within you. I now realize that you are a good soldier, caught up in something beyond what you could have ever imagined, and for that I forgive you, before the gods themselves."

A huge weight felt as if it was lifted from Tercio's chest. Months of worry and self-doubt, many a sleepless night, vanished in an instant.

"Thank you, Polaris." Tercio put his fist over his heart and bowed deeply, a sign of great respect. "You are a better man than I. I would be remiss if I did not apologize in turn for putting you through such a miserable experience, all of that pain and anguish. If only I knew then what I know now."

"Said many a stallion before you, as will many to come. Do not dwell on the past, Praetorian." A trio of hard raps on the doors signaled that an impatient Stonewall was waiting for them. "Right then, we should not keep old Stonewall waiting, lest we end up cleaning the latrines out. Again."

Tercio and Polaris put their helms back on and secured them, saluting as a replacement stallion came to relieve Tercio of his post. Together they pushed through to the throne room.

"Polaris, if you don't mind me asking, where have you been for the last three months? We've seen neither hide nor hair of you."

"That, my tall friend," he said confidently, "is something I'll have to tell you about another day."

Days later, Tercio stood before two of his fellow Praetorians, their spears crossed to block his entrance. Praetorians from a different barracks, with names he couldn't remember. They looked vaguely familiar, a pair of dark-coated earth ponies, but he could not place them. He doubted they had the same issue with him.

"Centurion Tercio Krosus, here to see Princess Celestia. I was told she's expecting me."

"Centurion," the larger of the two said with a tip of his head. "Go on in. I'm sure you know the deal by now -- no weapons with the Princess."

"Of course." He lifted the sides of his tunic to show he was not carrying a gladius, then pushed forward. The spears remained crossed.

"Everything. That includes the dagger."

He grumbled and unfastened the holster from around his thigh, letting the dagger and its sheathe tumble to the floor.

"You know we're supposed to be armed at all times, don't you?"

"You know we're not allowed to have weapons around the princess per Imperator Stonewall, don't you?" the earth pony countered. "Don't be difficult about it. We're a few paces away if there's trouble." They pulled their spears back and pushed the door part way open. Tercio didn't particularly like the new rule -- being without a weapon left him feeling naked -- but he was in no position to argue.

The mid-day sun was almost alarmingly bright as he stepped out onto the balcony. The view was, of course, amazing; the overhanging platform looked down upon Canterlot's business quarter, where throngs of ponies and other species went about their rounds and made deals by the hundreds. Directly ahead, where the great city connected to the mountain, a series of aqueducts carried fresh, clean water from a deep reservoir hidden under the mountain itself. As his eyes adjusted to the light he could see that the day was still clear and blue, with hardly a cloud in the sky. Cool, moist air blew in from the north, carrying the clean smell of the previous night's rains with it.

"Hello, Princess," Tercio said politely, giving the customary salute. The nigh-immortal ruler of Equestria bowed in return, then motioned for the door guards to give them privacy. A loud ka-chunk faded away until only the breeze made any sound.

"Hello, Tercio. It's good to see you, as always."

"Likewise. I hope you'll forgive the informal attire, today is one of the rare days I don't have the Imperator screaming in my ear."

"No need to worry, I know that armor can get uncomfortable after a while." She lifted a hoof to a stack of cushions. "Please, sit down. Would you care for some bramble berry tea? It's quite pleasant on a chilly day like today."

"That sounds good, thank you."

Celestia poured a steaming cup for both of them, floating Tercio's over to him. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important."

"Not quite," he said, grasping his drink from the air. "I was just reading a a copy of a play one of the others had recommended. So far it's not bad."

"I didn't know you were a patron of the fine arts."

"I'm not," he chuckled, "it's not exactly The Seven Cities of Elsewhere. It's a bit more...lurid."

"Oh, I see. I'll refrain from asking you the details then."

"That's probably for the best." Careful sips of the hot liquid warmed his mouth and trickled down into his stomach. A hint of fruit, but not overwhelming. It reminded him of his mother's favorite drink, albeit without the mouth-puckering tartness she seemed to enjoy so much. "So...if I may ask, what was the reason you summoned me?"

Celestia looked up from the rim of her cup, her expression serious.

"Does the Princess of Equestria need a reason to ask for one of her soldiers?"

"I, uh -- of course not. My apologies, I didn't mean to imply--"

He was interrupted by her refined laughter.

"I'm only kidding, Tercio. Come now, you know me better than that!" He felt his face flush red, eliciting another fit of laughter from the princess. "Busy as I may be, I am not without a sense of humor. Sometimes it's the only thing keeping me sane, I swear."

"Right. As you say." Tercio cleared his throat. "Quite a lovely day, isn't it?"

"It is. The weather works in our favor. More tea?"

"Please."

They drank in silence for a short time, enjoying the cool winds and fresh air. Celestia finished half of her cup and set it to the side, adjusting her position on the large pillows.

"Tercio...there is something I need to ask you, and I want you to answer truthfully. Do you swear it?"

His mind raced with what she could possibly be wondering. "I do..."

Celestia looked around to make sure they were alone, then locked her sight upon him once more.

"A few days ago, when we were in Swiftwing, were you confronted by one of my pegasus guards?"

The memory came back to him at once, the damnable Praetorian forcing him down with more strength than he'd thought possible, spewing distrust and barely-contained anger at his recent placement in the Praetorian ranks.

"I...well, I'm not sure I was confronted so much as we had a conversation. We have some...some disagreements. But it's nothing to worry about."

"Were you threatened?"

"I don't think--"

"Were you?"

Of course he'd been threatened. He'd even been rendered unconscious afterward. But Tercio considered it to be an internal matter, a disagreement between soldiers. The Princess, he'd reasoned, had enough to worry about without him bringing up inner-service rivalry. It wasn't exactly the first time he'd been verbally or physically threatened in his years in the Equestrian military, and it had always worked itself out in time. But now, looking into her unfaltering pink gaze, he found himself unable to withhold such a thing.

"...Yes. Although I cannot be entirely sure, I believe it was Praetorian Whirlwind who did so. I did not want to make this your issue," he quickly clarified.

"Tercio, you are one of my most valued guards, but so is Whirlwind. You are part of a close-knit and exclusive group, so if there is ever discord among the ranks I consider it my duty to see it through. I have been doing this for long enough to know when heads are butting, and I've become very good at acting upon my suspicions. What did he say, exactly?"

"He said I was dangerous, a threat to your safety. Somehow word has gotten out about my...situation. He knows what happened in the crystal cave, and he knows about Polaris. He knows what really happened. I doubt he's the only one."

Celestia frowned. "I was hoping such a thing would stay private. Everyone there was sworn to secrecy. I assumed they understood."

"I can't say who spoke of it first, but it's no use hiding it anymore. Because of it, Whirlwind thinks I'm a monster who has lied his way through the ranks. He said if he ever believes me an imminent threat, he will not hesitate to do what has to be done."

Tercio had never seen Celestia angry, and even now she maintained her impeccably practiced demeanor, but it was there, on the very tip of her voice, in the subtle movements of her body. She was not exactly angry, but she was clearly disappointed. He imagined that must have hurt far worse.

"This cannot be allowed to continue. I will speak with Centurion Whirlwind as soon as his shift has ended and put a stop to this. It is not okay, under any circumstances, to threaten a fellow soldier. Especially in a time of war. I will not have it."

He wondered if Whirlwind would lose his rank and be kicked from his posting. Strangely enough, some small part of him felt no ill will toward the pegasus. By all accounts Whirlwind was a good soldier, and in his position Tercio imagined he might even have reacted the same way. It still didn't excuse his actions, and he would likely remain untrusting of Whirlwind for some time to come, but ultimately the decision came down to Celestia herself. It was not his place to ask, nor would he have expected an answer.

"I understand. Such behavior is unacceptable."

"I always hate having to discipline one of my own guards, but it's not unheard of, I'm afraid. Sometimes personalities clash, or species rivalry and mistrust rears its ugly head. You should have seen the Equestrian military before the formal unification of the three nations. Some of it still lingers."

"So I've heard." A gust of wind ruffled his clothing and turned his skin to goose-flesh. It would be a cold night once the sun was down. Celestia finished what was left of her cup and gave a short sigh.

"War, infighting, cultists who worship the grossly perverted form of my sister, foreign affairs meetings nearly every day with this ruler or that, not to mention the daily business of running Equestria -- it can all be so tiresome at times." She managed a smile despite her worries. "Let's not talk about those things for now. I would much rather talk about something else."

"Such as?"

"Well, the festival of the Three Pillars is no more than a week away. Are you familiar with it?"

"Of course, as is anyone who remembers basic history." He began to recite from memory, years of celebrations and education making the old words as familiar as if they were spoken the day before. "Tolerance, the open mind. Devotion, the open heart. Generosity, the open soul. With these pillars we build a strong foundation. United, they are unbreakable."

"I see someone paid attention in school," Celestia giggled.

"I tried to, whenever I wasn't distracted by pretty mares or meat-headed stallions. You'd be surprised how many former bullies decide to leave you alone when you come back from the Month of Harvest nearly twice their size."

"I imagine. You seem to be familiar with the festival, so allow me to ask: what are you thankful for in life?"

"Well...if I had to pick three things, I suppose it would be my family, my current position in the military, and my continued survival in the face of such dangers. Is that too simple of an answer?"

"I don't think there is such a thing," she replied with a warm smile. "Those are all good things to be thankful for."

"If I may break tradition and add one more thing, I am thankful, in all honesty, that I've had the chance to meet you. Back when I served in the Equestrian Guard I thought of you as, I don't know...aloof, perhaps? No offense intended. You always seemed like someone who was so wise, and obviously powerful if you could move the sun itself. My own experiences must pale in comparison to some of the things you've seen. And yet, when I accepted my position in the Praetorian ranks and sat down with you that first time, I began to see 'the Mighty Princess Celestia', as the others used to call you, as surprisingly humble and relateable."

"The Mighty Princess Celestia," she repeated, laughing in disbelief. "Goodness, I feel as if I should be be standing on the parade grounds flexing my muscles and making grunting noises!"

"To hear some of them talk, you weren't far removed from such a thing."

"Four hundred years, and I can honestly say that's the first time I've heard that word used to describe me."

"First time for everything, I suppose. What about you, Celestia? What are you thankful for?"

Celestia wasn't sure how to answer. What was there to be thankful for in such a time of strife?

"I...suppose I am thankful, of course, for still drawing breath, despite the best efforts of Lacertus and the others. I am thankful for life returning to some sort of normality after so many of our citizens lost their lives in the attack. I am most certainly thankful I do not have to convene with Empress Elinwyyn on a daily basis." She touched a hoof to her jeweled breast collar. "And I am thankful to have you at the palace with me. Not only did you save my life from the assassin--"

"Just doing my job, Princess," Tercio stated.

"Of course. Not only that, but having someone to talk to is a welcome change of pace."

"Surely you must have others you converse with. You are, after all, the Princess of Equestria."

"There are others, yes," she answered, "but with them it is different. With my long life and power over heavenly bodies I'm often seen as a fascination, perhaps a sort of Goddess. To this day I find ponies who worship me as some sort of living deity. While flattering, it always makes me feel just a little uncomfortable. Even those I call my friends do not conversate with me like a normal pony. Their speech is lofty and often their demeanor turns out to be a way to gain my favor, as if I am some sort of...of...tradesmare looking to give out positions of power."

Tercio considered what he'd heard; growing up immersed in Equestrian culture, he had been convinced Celestia was, in fact, some sort of higher power. It had taken a long time to dispel that myth. No doubt others would still believe it.

"I can see why they would think so highly of you. After all, your sun brings warmth and life. It's more than any of us could hope to accomplish."

"But that's just it -- they look at me and see power, in one form or another. I have tried my entire life to assure my subjects that I am as caring as any of them; that I, too, do not live in a crystal spire away from the realities of day-to-day life. It's just that I have to do so without appearing weak. It is not an easy balance to find. Hundreds of years of practice and still I worry." She smiled at Tercio. "That is why I am thankful to have you here. In the time I've had to speak with you, you have always been respectful, but it's more than that. That day when we shared a meal at sunset, I saw you open up and really be yourself. Not just a Praetorian, or a soldier, but a person. You were frank and sincere."

"I was simply trying sound at least somewhat interesting. No small feat, to hear my brother speak."

"I'm sure he's only kidding. Let me ask you something: do you feel comfortable around me, Tercio?"

"I...yes, I suppose I do," he answered. He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "I don't know what it is, exactly. I tend to keep to myself most of the time. Being so different from everyone else had made me somewhat of an introvert, I think. It's not often I get to share a story or listen to one myself."

Celestia watched the sun for a moment as it continued its slow arc across the sky, shielding her eyes with an outstretched wing. Still plenty of time in the day. Soon there would be meetings with her top generals and advisers, then a late lunch with her kitchen staff, followed by the veritable pile of scrolls that awaited her every evening from citizens across Equestria and beyond. All the more reason to enjoy the moment.

"Maybe we're not so different, you and I," she said thoughtfully. "It's rare I meet someone who can share the feeling of being a stranger in their own land. Perhaps it's why I enjoy our conversations so much."

"I enjoy them as well. Believe me, given the choice of getting yelled at by Stonewall or talking with you, I'm much more fond of the latter. Not to insult the good Imperator's looks, but he's rather harsh on the eyes, comparatively. Harsh on the back, too, should he happen to have us hauling supplies for the day."

Celestia gave a wry smile. "So you're saying I'm easy on the eyes?"

"Well, I...that is...I'm going to remain silent lest I put my foot in my mouth further than I already have."

"No need to be embarrassed, I'm flattered. That's very nice of you to say." She laughed softly and floated both of the small cups back to her side, then filled them up once more, tipping the tea pot to get every drop out. "You would be surprised how few ponies have the courage to pass on even a small compliment. It would seem I'm more intimidating than I'm led to believe."

"Intimidating? Perhaps a little. After all, it's not every mare than can incinerate you with a thought, should you happen to speak out of turn."

The idea of being so petty and power-mad was so absurd it elicited a hearty laugh from Celestia. For all its ridiculous implications, there were likely some ponies who actually believed she could do so.

"Tercio, Tercio," she chuckled, "you have it all wrong. I only incinerate those who don't compliment me. All shall love me and despair."

Tercio grabbed his cup from the air. "Remind me to stay on your good side, then."

For a brief moment their eyes locked, and Tercio found himself entranced by her smile and her laughter. Somewhere, deep within himself, the smallest of notions -- really, an absurd idea -- made itself known. He was enjoying himself, not as a guest of the Princess, but as if he were speaking with someone who was genuinely pleased to have him as company.

"To not being incinerated," he said after only a few heartbeats. Another soft, comforting second of amused laughter as she clinked her delicate cup against his.

"Never have I heard a finer toast."

19 - Mistaken Affection

In her dreams she saw them, tall figures silhouetted against a flaming sky. They gazed upon her, through her, with empty eyes that spoke of no empathy or emotion. At once they moved towards her, each step crushing the ground beneath them and uncovering vast swaths of mutilated bodies that shook and trembled like living things. Frantically she turned to run, but her legs moved agonizingly slowly. Pleading hooves grasped at her from the ground, held her back, while a thousand agonized voices cried out to her in desperation

Time. It is only a matter...of time. As it has happened once, so shall it happen again.

A feminine voice, distorted and booming, filled her mind until it was all she could hear. She clapped her hooves over her ears and yelled for it to stop. The voice mixed with the screams of the dead and swirled around her in a maddening fury.

Death. You bring only death upon this land. Endless. Senseless.

She screamed uselessly into the storm of voices as they became a howling gale. Still the shadows approached, reaching out for her with strong arms and grasping hands of black ichor. The booming voice shook her with every word it spoke, drawing her deeper into an endless chasm. A face appeared before her, with predatory eyes and a razor maw. A blackened crown, as dark as the night, rested on its incorporeal head, and its jaw distended sickeningly as it yelled in terrible un-words that wrenched her insides.

Princess Celestia awoke with a startled jolt, finding her pillow damp with sweat and her heart racing. For a long, confused moment she wondered if the thing in her dream had followed her, but quickly she regained her senses and calmed herself with deep breaths. Still shaking lightly, she sat up and pushed the blanket from her body as she rubbed a hoof against her temple. It was the second time in as many weeks she had had the nightmare. Still the same, still just as vivid.

Moonlight flooded in through the large windows of her private quarters, bathing the room in a soft glow. Celestia pushed herself out of bed and landed on the tile with a clack of her bare hooves. Stumbling and half-asleep, she pushed open the door to the hallway just enough to see out of it. Torch light, far too bright. A Praetorian guard eyed her cautiously through the crack in the door, clearly confused to see his Princess up at such an hour.

"Princess Celestia? Can I...help you?"

"Hibiscus tea. Honey. Twist of lemon." She turned to leave the guard to his duty, then thought better of it. There was no reason to be rude. "...please."

The guard hesitated, unsure of his strange orders.

"Uh, yes, Your Highness. I shall get it for you promptly."

Celestia grunted an acknowledgement and closed the door fully, then threw her balcony doors open with a burst of magic. Cold, crisp night air flooded in, rustling her satin curtains and brushing against her skin. A deep, wonderful lungful cleared her mind.

In the distance, the slivered crescent moon arced high above the mountains. It was very late indeed. Still plenty of time, she pleasantly thought, to fall asleep once more -- but not before having a drink to calm her mind and body.

Of course, she could hardly look at the moon these days without thinking of Luna. Her sister's very essence had been absorbed into it, altering its appearance to serve as a constant reminder of the life she would likely never see again.

My sister, lost to darkness, for the whole world to see.

The visions had been getting stronger, more frequent, as Celestia now suddenly found herself with an abundance of time to think. Life had returned to normal, or a close approximation of it, for the citizens of Canterlot. Part of her considered it a curse; she knew it was never actually Luna, or Nightmare Moon, standing beside her, or tormenting her with cruel words. At times she wanted to shout back at the visions and the voices, but such a thing would surely bring her sanity into question. She could fight them during the day, but by night her dreams were completely beyond her control. In her long life she had never imagined herself being afraid of something as innocent as sleep, and yet she now found herself in exactly that position with every lowering of the sun and raising of the moon.

A quiet knock on her door.

"Princess? I have your tea."

Celestia knew she looked a mess. She was too tired to care.

"Thank you," she said gingerly as she poked the hallway door open enough to grab the tea cup and small plate with her magic. They wobbled and shook, nearly spilling the hot liquid on the floor.

"Are you alright, Princess? Do you require any assistance?"

"I'm fine, thank you," she replied with a faint smile. "Merely a bad dream."

"Very well. Have a good night."

She sighed in relief as she sat on the balcony cushions and sipped her tea -- It was just a little too sweet, but perfectly fine for its purpose. As she enjoyed her drink, flashes of the dream appeared once more. Fears and memories in equal parts, the inescapable past and the possible future. All those years ago, it would have been so much easier to take Luna's advice. Easier, and morally reprehensible. No, so long as there was a chance, she would not fall prey to such ideas. Everyone, she thought, deserves a second chance. Pony, griffon, deer...or human.

"Tercio! The hell are you doing?" Rimeberry tapped the other's shoulder with the end of his spear. "You feelin' alright?"

"What? Oh, right. My apologies, Rime, I'm just a bit distracted today. Hard to focus. You understand."

Tercio swore under his breath; for the third time today someone had caught him not paying attention. It wasn't that he didn't care about combat drills, it was that something else was occupying his mind.

"If you say so. Stonewall will have your ass if he finds out you're not devoting yourself to your task."

"I know, I know. Let's just start again, shall we?"

"As you say." Tower shield in front of him, Rimeberry struck the side of his weapon against it. "Your move."

Tercio quickly considered his opponent; Rimeberry was immensely strong, but he favored his left side after the wound he'd sustained in his fight against the assassin Lacertus. Thus far he'd been more of a defensive fighter, attempting to use his raw strength and stubborn combat stance to counter Tercio's faster, lighter movements.

With a shout Tercio lunged with his gladius, then quickly bashed Rimeberry's shield out of the way with his own. The stallion reacted by swinging his foreleg-strapped buckler around hard enough to knock Tercio off balance, then thrust out with his combat spear. When it narrowly missed, he switched his grip to allow for sideways strikes, alternating with powerful shield charges. The impacts caused sparks and small chips of wood to fly from their competing equipment.

Tercio felt in control despite the onslaught of attacks. He'd seen the same thing from others in the Praetorian ranks, those who believed they could easily counter Tercio's larger stature by tripping him up or keeping him close. He wondered if Celestia was watching, and whether she considered him to be a competent soldier. Surely she would after his display in the crystal cavern, unless she thought all of his combat prowess was a result of his trigger word and resulting state of mind. Perhaps a quick glance would--

The world was suddenly far blurrier than he had remembered it being. Harder, too. It took longer than he would have preferred to realize that he was, in fact, on the ground. Not only was he on the ground, but his helm was now sporting a decidedly large dent in its side. Once again he stood up, dusted himself off, and squared off for combat, feeling decidedly embarrassed by his performance.

Princess Celestia peered over the edge of her viewing platform, an elevated balcony that gave a full view of the training yard and medicae facilities. Her flowing mane and tail moved gently with the breeze that drifted in from the near-by mountains, covering one eye with pink, green and blue strands of her multi-colored hair. Watching the Praetorians spar with one another was never a particularly interesting affair, but her presence helped reinforce the notion that she was there for those who served her. Occasionally she would tip her head and offer a polite smile to the stallions who glanced her way, and that would be the extent of her excitement for the duration of her appearance. Four hundred years of stallions beating at each other with blunted weapons and shields tended to grow dull in its same-ness.

Such a time, however, was popular with her friends. Or rather, those she considered to be closest to the traditional use of the word. Currently, a trio of mares in their finest, most expensive outfits graced her usually quiet balcony with their continuous chatter, a small group that was less likely to use her good graces for financial, societal, or political gain.

Hopefully.

There was Violet Breeze, from the most affluent district of Canterlot, who had been a frequent guest of the palace since before Luna's banishment. Genuine and heart-felt, Celestia considered her to be the mare most grounded in reality. With her husband off commanding the 41st Equestrian Guard, Violet had come to rely on her visits with Celestia to maintain some semblance of normality in an upper-class society where military service was considered to be beneath the well-to-do. She sat to the right of the Princess of the Sun, levitating a small cluster of grapes and talking with her long-time friend and associate, Picenia.

Older and more open with her words than the others, Picenia had made a name for herself as the premier baker in Equestria's second largest city, Marestopholous, before moving to Canterlot to expand her business. Over three decades she'd become the most prominent producer of bread and baked good of all kinds in Equestria. Her shops fed a sizeable portion of the military, and for that she was treated with respect and courtesy by Celestia and the entirety of the royal court.

She did, however, hold herself in high regard -- especially as an earth pony -- sometimes to her own detriment. Picenia spoke in lofty tones and loved nothing more than to talk about how this baker or that had practically begged her for help, to which she, in her "infinite grace", had, of course, obliged...provided they sold their shop to her in return. Shrewd and sometimes ruthless in her business dealings, Celestia had never-the-less shown her favor as a sign of good faith. Armies marched on their stomachs, after all, a fact the Princess was all too aware of.

Finally, there was the newest member of Celestia's small circle of friends, a young mare barely out of her teens by the name of Sapphire Quill. An earth pony like Picenia, Sapphire was not a mare of industry or the wife of a prominent military figure. Instead, she had made her living as the foremost playwright of the last three generations, being viewed as somewhat of a prodigy after creating the famous performance piece A Shadow at Dawn when she was fresh out of talent school.

Sapphire was a breath of fresh air, more enthusiastic than the others, at least in Celestia's eyes. More concerned with handsome stallions than politics, she enjoyed their time at the balcony as much for the sights as for the conversations. She had an impatient streak, very much a 'here and now' sort of mare. She gazed with interest at the Praetorians fighting below, giggling and making comments to Violet.

"Is it true what they say?" she asked. "Do the Praetorians really have more...endurance?"

"I couldn't tell you, dearie, but I hear their sweat is an aphrodisiac. I saw a mare selling small vials of it in the market just the other day."

"How in the world would they get something like that?"

Violet laughed. "I wasn't about to ask."

"This is not exactly proper conversation for royal discussion," Picenia interjected.

"Don't fret, I'm sure Tia's fine with it. Right?"

Celestia hid an annoyed grunt at the nickname. It was something personal and familiar, a memory of a time when Luna would call her by the shortened name during their imagined adventures that took them through the old castle. She might have objected to Sapphire using it, but she found it difficult to blame the mare's youth and eagerness to hang around the palace. At the end of the day, it was harmless.

"I don't normally discuss such things," Celestia answered with a practiced smile, "but I will not stop you from doing so. Try to keep things somewhat...appropriate...at least."

"Right, right, no details. I understand."

Sapphire pointed a hoof to one soldier in particular, bigger than the others in stature.

"Who was that one again? The...homen?"

"Human," Celestia corrected her. "That would be Ceturion Tercio Krosus. He's somewhat unique, as you can tell."

"He's so...tall! Where does he come from, anyway? Are there more of him?"

"It's a long story, but as far as I know: no, he is the only one of his kind. Why do you ask?"

"Becauuuse," Sapphire answered in a sing-song voice, "I think he likes me."

Violet scoffed. "You think everypony likes you, Sapphire. Not all of them are suitors vying for your hoof."

"No, really! He keeps looking up here, right at me! See for yourself!"

Interested, and more than a little skeptical, Celestia looked down at the gathered Praetorians. Their attacks and dodges kicked up small plumes of dust with every movement, partially obscuring the great sparring rings, but she could just barely make out the human chancing quick glances in her direction. It was unlike him to not be completely focused on his combat partner. Occasionally his momentary lapse of concentration would result in a sword strike or a shield bash that would knock him off balance

"See? He's clearly interested." Another quick glance was paid for in kind by a powerful shield blow to the side of his helm, sending him sprawling across the rough ground. "Ouch."

Picenia waved a dismissive hoof.

"If that's the quality of stallion you're looking for, my dear Sapphire, perhaps you should look elsewhere. Within your own species would be a fine place to start, unless you're aiming particularly low again."

The three mares started to bicker once more, an occurrence that was common in their visits. Sometimes Celestia wondered why she bothered inviting them.

As he left the training ring to take a long drink from his water skin, Tercio chanced a longer look at the royal balcony. At least this time he wouldn't have to worry about being knocked senseless. Celestia and the three brightly-colored mares were still there, just distant enough to hide any real detail. He could have sworn he saw her smiling...

"You done for the day or what?" Rimeberry's voice interrupted him in mid-drink, calling from the sparring circle.

"No, no, I'm just a bit parched. I'll be right there."

He knew it was absurd, likely even impossible, but for the past several days the tiniest notion had entered his mind, nested, and grown, as an ember would grow into a wildfire. Such a thing, were he to express it aloud, would surely result in mocking laughter and disbelief from his colleagues, nevermind the Princess herself.

Gods help me, she fills my waking thoughts.

And yet, the more he fretted about it, the more he found it difficult to avert his eyes. He was aware that he'd been catching her sight, and that of her guests, but surely she couldn't ever share such an idea. What was he, but a soldier? And not only a soldier, but one who could lose control of himself with a single word. Nevermind the fact that he was not even equine at all. He was as foreign as one could be in Equestria.

But she? She was a nigh-immortal being of immense power and boundless responsibility. She was flawless in her beauty and unparalleled in her grace. He'd seen first-hand the controlled madness that was her everyday life, a flurry of politicos and agendas and concerns brought forth by her subjects. Finding time for herself was a rare occurrence. She hadn't even taken interest in a suitor since before the time of his great-grandfather Harvest Wind. Why, before the gods old and new, would she ever think of him as he thought of her? She couldn't possibly. Every time he'd spoken with her it had been like a cascade of pure light entered him and filled him with comfort, calming his thoughts and easing his tired muscles. She was untouchable in her perfection.

And yet, the thought lingered, and his eyes wandered, and she met his gaze.

He cursed to himself; he was struck by her, completely and utterly, and there was not a damned thing he could do about it.

"Look, he's doing it again! What more proof do you need? I'd fly down there if I had wings, my friends."

"You wouldn't do any such thing, Sapphire."

"I would too! In fact, I'm going to prove you wrong. Again."

The young mare turned to Celestia and smiled brightly.

"Tia, I would like to meet that human Praetorian. Immediately." Sheepishly, she added, "please."

Celestia raised a surprised foreleg. Sapphire had a way of being enthusiastic, but demanding to meet Tercio was far and away the most brash thing she'd done in months. What were the chances Tercio shared Sapphire's affections? Not likely, she concluded.

"I'm...sure he's probably quite busy, my dear friend," Celestia said comfortingly. "The life of a Praetorian is one of discipline and preparation."

"Then let him prepare to meet me. I am curious to know more about him." She prodded Celestia with a hoof. "Come on, he's under your command, right? You could order him to come up here, or meet me down there."

"That's not something I prefer to do if possible. Just as we have our agenda for the day, so does--"

"Come on, Tia. Just a short conversation. What could it hurt?"

Sapphire was likely wasting her time, Celestia thought. Tercio had never shown interest in any of the palace mares -- though she supposed it would get the pushy mare to drop the topic if she talked to him and saw he didn't care for her advances.

"Very well," she surrendered, "I will ask him to speak with you, but I will not order it. He is not a slave, Sapphire."

"He could be my slave," the other giggled.

Violet Breeze rolled her eyes. "This is going to go well, I can already see it."

Who in the world was Sapphire Quill?

That was the question on Tercio's mind as he walked up the three flights of stairs between the training area and the palace common grounds. The name didn't sound familiar, but the messenger made it quite clear that he or she was interested in meeting him. A dignitary, perhaps? An old family friend?

He didn't have to wait long to get an answer. As he pushed through the outer doors he saw a mare sitting at a low table, her eyes already upon him and a wry smile on her face.

"Hello, Sir Tercio," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Tercio answered cautiously. He stood before her with his hands behind his back in a semi-relaxed military stance. "You must be Sapphire Quill, I assume..."

"The one and only." She patted a spot next to her. "Come, sit. I insist."

Confused, Tercio did as she asked. She was, at the very least, quite attractive, with a cream-colored coat and light pink mane and tail, complimented by eyes the color of her namesake. While Tercio did not exactly consider himself an accurate judge of age, especially for mares, he didn't think her much older than her early twenties.

"I'm sorry, Lady Sapphire Quill, I don't believe we've met."

"No, we haven't. That's why I invited you here." She motioned to a tall carafe. "Can I interest you in some fine amasec? Princess Celestia provided it for us. She's such a good friend." When Tercio declined she shrugged it away. "Suit yourself, human." She studied him for a time, leaving Tercio feeling somewhat awkward as the silence crept along longer than he was comfortable with. "I saw you training today, in the sparring ring. You're quite the fighter."

"I try to be. The life of Princess Celestia depends on it, nevermind my own and that of the stallions fighting alongside me." When she didn't say anything -- simply smiling back like a school filly -- Tercio felt the patience in him beginning to wane. "If there is something I can help you with...?"

"There might be. You see, I saw you looking up at me for some time. It was quite frequent, more than a mistake or a curious glance. In fact, it was hard to ignore."

Oh no.

"I've seen my share of stallions, Sir Tercio, and even in a human it is apparently not any different. That look of unbridled desire, a sort of...curious, yet longing need to set your eyes upon my not-insignificant curves. Would I be right?"

Tercio almost laughed in her face. "Look, Sapphire, I appreciate the idea but--"

He realized he couldn't blurt out the fact that he was staring at Celestia, especially if this young mare was as close to the Princess as she'd claimed. Images of the Princess and her royal friends laughing at his admission flashed before him. There had to be a way out of this.

"I want to make you an offer, Sir Tercio. One you might find to be in your interests."

"And that is?"

"I appreciate the hard work you and your brothers -- or whatever you call the ponies with you -- put forth in defense of Equestria. I have never had much of an interest in combat myself; my talents lie more in the fields of drama, tragedy and comedy. I do, however, speak with enough stallions at my shows to know how difficult your life can be. With that in mind, I'm prepared to offer you and your...what do you call it? The name for your group that lives under the same roof?"

"My contubernium?"

"That's it, contubernium. I want to extend my hoof to you and your friends, or partners, or however you like to call them, to a grand feast and celebration in your shared honor. There will be drinking and dancing and laughter to be had by all, and you won't pay a single coin for it. After all, I'd say you've all earned a little relaxation after saving Canterlot, wouldn't you?"

"The stallions I fought beside would certainly appreciate such a thing, sure," he replied, nodding. "But why not ask one of them? Imperator Stonewall is our immediate commanding officer...sort of. You would surely do well to bring this before him."

Sapphire shrugged and tossed her mane. "Why would I do that when I could speak with you instead? You're much more...exotic."

"I prefer to be thought of as just another man, Lady Sapphire."

"Pfft. You and I both know you're not just another rank and file soldier. You're so much more interesting than that."

She was getting increasingly aggressive with her compliments. Something was quite clearly going on.

"I'm not sure I'm the one--"

"I won't waste any more of your time, so please don't waste mine. To put it simply, I am offering to treat your fellow Praetorians to a night of merriment they won't soon forget...on the condition that you allow me some of your time once you arrive."

'Some time' could mean any number of things -- though from her expression, and the mistaken belief that his affection was aimed her way, it was clear she did not intend to discuss politics.

"I know this is quite sudden, but I'm a spontaneous sort of mare. I am not asking you to bow before me or anything so grand, and I assure you I will not slip any essence of moonlight blossom into your chalice. You're such an interesting figure, Sir Tercio. It's not every day one gets to learn more about the only male of his kind. I would very much like to know more about you in good time. You don't have to hide the fact that you're interested in me, for I'm quite interested in you."

Part of him knew it was a bad idea to stay around the pushy mare and her sudden, strangely aggressive come-on. She reminded him of an old marefriend from his teenage years; she, too, was interested in him for his unique looks as much as his personality -- probably more one than the other -- and she'd been quite exciting during a few weeks of sleepless nights, but in the end she'd left like the others. As a younger man Tercio would have jumped at the chance to be with an attractive mare and leave it at that, but his older, wiser self had begun to look for something more.

Still...the Praetorians could use a break. They'd trained and sweated and bled for months on end with little in the way of relief, and the stress was beginning to eat away at their morale, nevermind the continued, lingering pains and reminders of their numerous wounds from the attack on the palace. If this mare was so oddly interested in him, he could always just grin and bear it while his brothers in arms enjoyed themselves. He owed them that much for taking him in as one of their own.

"Alright," he finally answered, not entirely sure of himself, "my brothers and I will join you, should you wish it. I am sure they will be pleased to hear the news. Gods know they need some time off. You will have to run this by Stonewall and Celestia, though. They may not be so easy to convince."

Sapphire Quill gave a short, self-assured laugh.

"Sir Tercio, I do not believe you fully understand who I am. Leave it to me."

Brother-Captain Corvalix stood before the royal throne, his head bowed low. His sovereign sat upon her dais, considering the battle-scarred deer who had presented himself in his finest formal wear; a loose wrapping of silks, with a green sash decorating his shoulders, marking him as a war hero. A thin, golden thread hung from the tip of his antlers, ending in a green gem that flashed as it caught the sun.

"You called on me, sister?" he asked, his head still lowered.

"Corvalix. Yes. Thank you for coming." The tall, willowy doe stepped down, her regal cloak flowing across the tile behind her. She looked upon her sibling with emerald eyes, lifting his chin with a cloven hoof. "How do you fare?"

"As well as is to be expected. My wounds are fresh but I am alive." He motioned to a wrapped gash along his side which stained his red-brown fur and white spots a dark crimson.

"You are hurt?"

"A small band of Equestrians found me yesterday, during a scouting run. I managed to slay them to the last, but not without consequence. It could have been worse."

"I see. Do try to avoid such things in the future, won't you?"

He turned up a corner of his mouth in a grin. "I shall try. No guarantees, however."

"That will have to do." His sister trotted to a large map of Whitetail, where various divisions had been marked with gems of different colors. "How goes the war with the Equestrians?"

"The Whitetail are determined fighters, clever when they're allowed to be, but they remain without proper leadership. They still think me one of them, the fools. Their senate is a hollow thing, ineffective and too busy bickering amongst one another to take decisive action."

"Will they hold?"

"Their army? No. The Whitetail fight well, but it is a losing war. The Equestrians lack the raw numbers but their soldiers show remarkable initiative at the company, platoon, even individual level. Whitetail underestimated the ferocity with which the ponies would respond, and now fight a defensive war. The bulk of the deer forces are holed up in the old fortress town of Quillyyn, just past the edge of the forest. It is a strong place to fight from."

"And the Equestrians?"

"They continue to take steady losses. Make no mistake, however -- they will triumph in the end. No army has faced Equestrian soldiers in hundreds of years. They have the element of surprise with them in every battle." Corvalix trotted to the map, levitating a crystalline staff. "Once Quillyyn has fallen there will be no major strongholds between the Equestrians and the Whitetail capitol of Evinwiir. Our cousins will be broken in mind and body, unable to continue fighting with any real resolve. Peace negotiations, I believe, will follow soon after. Celestia will have her victory. She may even have a good bit of Whitetail land to add to her nation."

The deer ruler stamped a hoof on the ground.

"In an ideal world, perhaps."

"Indeed, sister. The Whitetail will be begging for help. Already they ask us for aid. They need only grow more desperate. A few weeks at the most, and we shall be their saving grace." Corvalix leaned his staff against the wall. "Before we commit to such a plan, I must ask once more: are you absolutely sure of this course of action? Our...prior attempts...at destabilizing Equestria have all ended poorly."

The doe considered his words, cocking her head as she studied the large map.

"Would you have our nation remain a shadow of its former self? Would you see twenty generations of Redtail ingenuity and tenacity fall by the wayside?"

"Of course not. I simply do not wish to see our efforts become a minor note in a history scroll."

"You worry too much, brother. Lacertus' death was certainly a disappointment, but it was not entirely unexpected. The Nightmare Moon cults are easily swayed, and serve as useful fodder, but they, too, are inconsequential. They merely serve a greater purpose they've no idea of. There is always another way to add a little chaos to the mix; we must wait for the proper time, however, lest we reveal ourselves too soon."

Corvalix snickered at his sister's cunning.

"Mother and father always did consider you somewhat of a trickster. If only they could be here to see us now."

"Then the least we could do is provide them with something to be proud of from the Great Beyond, wouldn't you agree?"

"Without a doubt." Corvalix bowed his head once more, satisfied that their long-standing plan was finally coming together. They had waited nearly three decades; a few more weeks would be nothing.

"Until next time, Corvalix. Do take care."

"And you as well. I shall see you soon," he said confidently, "my dear Elinwynn."

20 - Sapphire

If the Royal Palace was Equestria's soul, then Northern Canterlot was its beating heart. Widely known as the "Industry District", Northern Canterlot hosted the largest collection of food storage and preservation warehouses, blacksmith forges, bakeries, and other goods and services shops in the greater Equestrian area. Here, too, could be found the most well-to-do ponies of all races -- masters of their domains, titans of industry. Their elegant and expensive homes clung to the very edges of the suspended city, providing unparalleled views of the valley and mountains below.

Clutching his formal clothing tightly against his body, Tercio traveled down the maze-like expanses of small footpaths and carved stone roads that were, supposedly, going to lead to one home in particular. It was decidedly chilly out, even with his multi-layered tunic and his toga that hung down to his knees. Indeed, the nights had grown colder as of late -- it wouldn't be long before the month of Harvest was upon the land. He pictured his father toiling in the fields, despite his mother's objections, with a small band of Summervale's youths at his side, busily threshing and picking and sorting their various crops.

The trip thus far had been uneventful, though the grandeur and opulence of the homes -- really, private mansions -- that he'd passed had only increased. Each one was larger than the last, looking for all the world like a bizarre game of one-upsmanship. Here, he thought, were those who could afford such things without batting an eye. He was equally jealous and fascinated.

Two streets down, past a small hedgerow of thorned bushes, he finally reached his destination. The dwelling was a three-tiered monstrosity of shaped marble columns and shimmering, tiled frescoes that wrapped around the rectangular building in intricate patterns of deep, black opal. The front entrance had been decorated with long lengths of purple and gold silk decorated with various celestial signs, including, Tercio noticed, the bull that adorned his armor's cloak, which he thankfully hadn't had to wear tonight. The whole property, from front to back, was lit by burning braziers full of crackling cherry wood, giving off a slightly sweet smell that tinted the earthy, sharp tang of wafting smoke. It was, he decided, the most impressive private residence he had ever seen. For a time he wondered if he was at the right location, but the unmistakable sound of uproarious laughter from inside reassured him. Perhaps Sapphire Quill wasn't as off-putting as she initially seemed, and he was merely over-reacting. There was only one way to find out.

Princess Celestia sat in her chambers, a thick book floating before her. It was a mostly forgettable novel, a tale of romance and intrigue the likes of which she'd read a thousand times before, and would likely forget soon after she was done. It did, at least, serve to take her mind off things. Namely, the impending celebration in the Praetorians' honor half way across the city, put on by Sapphire Quill and many of her closest friends, or at least those who claimed to be so.

It had been very sudden -- a short conversation between the playwright and Equestria's resident human, followed by a smiling, triumphant Sapphire returning to the observation balcony to announce that she would be hosting a grand event. And, she'd said, Tercio would be the guest of honor.

Try as she might, Celestia couldn't figure out what, if anything, Tercio saw in the young mare. She was quite attractive and well-spoken, certainly, but her pushy demeanor was the antithesis of Tercio's own.

Then again, Celestia thought glumly, one could be blinded by gifts or honors or simple lust without realizing it. She'd seen it happen many times, and Tercio was a young man in a very stressful situation; maybe he saw something in Sapphire after all, even if it was just temporary comfort. He'd certainly seemed interested, constantly looking up at the balcony during his sparring matches with the others. A small thought crossed her mind, and she wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, yet it insisted on lingering.

What if he wasn't looking at Sapphire?

No, such an idea was idle musing at best. She refocused her thoughts, shifting her attention to the Praetorians as a whole. They had been overjoyed at the news that they would be getting a celebration in their honor. Even Imperator Stonewall had seemed eager, at least as much as gruff demeanor allowed. Despite her own feelings toward the matter, she was not about to let her hereto unfounded doubts deny the most loyal of Equestria's soldiers their relaxation and time away from the barracks, away from the sparring and the reminders of battle. They would drink and eat until they were sated, and come back renewed.

Morale is of the utmost importance, she could hear her father say.

So she would allow Tercio to be played by the whims of Sapphire's cunning, such as it was, if it pleased all parties involved.

But she did not have to like it.

"Tercio, you sly dog! How in the name of the nine hells did you arrange this?!"

Praetorian Stormfront clapped a hoof on Tercio's back and laughed, leading him through the entryway into an expansive central room. Torches and candles lit the dark hallways, and numerous mares in serving sashes carried trays of food on their backs between the ends of the mansion-like home. Several ponies, mostly civilians, sat on large cushions and chatted with cups of wine and sweet amasec beside them.

"It's a rather strange story. Take my word for it," Tercio answered.

"Come on, you can't just leave it at that!"

"Perhaps another time. For now, I believe we have a celebration to enjoy."

"That we do! Come, come, this way. The others are awaiting your arrival."

Stormfront was one of the younger Praetorians, a recent peagsus inductee who had arrived just before the attack on Canterlot. He'd proven himself in combat on the palace grounds, and he seemed like a genuine sort of stallion, but he apparently felt he knew Tercio better than Tercio knew him.

Off to the left of the central sitting room, down a hallway dotted with numerous bedroom doors, a large, heated bath house greeted him with a plume of mist, and the air grew damp and warm. He could just make out the silhouettes of numerous stallions as they conversed and laughed. Stormfront trotted off, leaving him to himself.

"Praetoria Victor!" he shouted, raising a clenched fist above his head.

"Praetoria Victor!" came the answer, followed by cheers and good-natured laughter.

"Well look who's finally here!" someone said.

"It's the guy with the long legs and the short prick!"

"About time you showed up, Your Highness," someone else jabbed.

Tercio stepped closer to the steaming water. "Good to see you're all enjoying yourselves. Started without me, did you?"

Rimeberry raised his cup and tilted it in Tercio's direction, spilling a few drops of deep red wine.

"The party waits for no one, my friend."

"Besides," someone else said, "it's first come, first serve with these fine mares. Or maybe it's first served, first come! I know which one I prefer, eh ladies? Ha!"

Tercio waved his hand through the fog, now able to see that several of his brothers had a mare -- or two -- at their side. Empty pitchers of wine floated on the surface or rolled around on the polished granite where several more Praetorians were gathered around and conversing. Occasionally one of them would gesture wildly, and the others would practically roll on the ground in amusement. He smiled -- it was good to see everyone getting the chance to enjoy themselves again.

An out-of-step clacking caught his attention, and he turned to see Stonewall approaching with a roll of scrolls stuffed into a saddlebag. At his side was an older mare, perhaps a few years younger than himself, with a graying coat of light purple.

"Krosus," he nodded.

"Imperator, sir," Tercio replied.

"Good to see you. How fares your night?"

"Ask me in several hours," he chuckled.

"Noted." Stonewall gestured to the mare. "Tercio Krosus, this is my wife, Radiance. Honey, this is Tercio Krosus. One of a kind, probably for the best."

"A pleasure to meet you, madam." Tercio bowed and stuck out his hand, shaking her hoof gently. "I have heard much about you."

Her eyes lit up, an inner youth behind her slightly wrinkled face.

"All good, I should hope," she laughed. "It's nice to meet you too, dearie."

Tercio pointed to the saddlebag across Stonewall's back. "This is supposed to be a relaxing time, Imperator. You look as if you're ready to inventory the entirety of Equestria's military."

"Someone has to be the mouthpiece of Equestria, may as well be me. There's negotiations to be had, Krosus, and the atmosphere is conducive to some very good deals." He paused, then added, "and don't worry, I'm not going to be a stick in the mud all night. We'll partake once the business side of things has been wrapped up."

Radiance giggled at the sights around her. "Reminds me of our younger days, Stoney."

Stonewall caught Tercio suppressing a laugh, eyeing the thin smile that was trying its hardest to break out into a full-on grin.

"Right, well, we should get going, my dear. Let's leave the young bucks to their entertainment. Do try to behave yourself, Krosus."

"Sir."

With Stonewall gone, Tercio was once again free to converse with his fellow Praetorians. After the long, cold walk the heated bath seemed very inviting. Finding an unoccupied stone bench, he stripped down to his bare skin and set his clothing off to one side, then stepped to the edge of the large bath and eased himself in. It was almost uncomfortably hot at first, but he soon adjusted to the heat and submerged himself up to his neck with a sigh of relief.

"Feel better?" Tercio recognized the voice immediately -- Polaris.

"Like you wouldn't believe." He stretched his arms out, resting them on the carved stone edges of the bath pool. "How are things in Barracks Three? I've hardly seen hide nor hair of you in weeks."

Polaris shrugged. "Business as usual, really. We had a visitor from the Royal Guard a few days past, some stallion looking for assistance with a convoy of goods moving to the front lines. Normally we let the other branches take care of such things, but the Princess herself approved it. As far as I know it went without a hitch. That was our 'excitement' for the week, as it was."

A pitcher of wine and a golden cup floated over, and Tercio eagerly grabbed them both and poured himself a drink. The wine, like the rest of the house, was exquisite, and likely very expensive.

"Let's join the others, shall we? I'm sure there's a few mares we could get you acquainted with."

Two floors above, in a lavishly decorated bedroom, Sapphire Quill watched the military stallions and their companions from a window that was encircled by tiny, white flowers. None of them seemed to have noticed her, which suited her just fine; the celebration was for all of them, and though she did admire them she preferred to leave the entertaining and serving to her hired mares. She was expecting just one guest in particular.

He'd already arrived, of course, and had spent the last half hour rejoicing and drinking with his Praetorian comrades. She did not want to pry him away from them, not just yet. A good host knew when to let her guests enjoy the company of others, and when to converse with them in private. She could still enjoy the sight, though. He was so...different. Mysterious. Something about the definition of his body and the smoothness of his skin intrigued her greatly. What was he like, away from the formality of the palace? She intended to find out. She needed only wait.

How long had it been? Hours? It was hard to tell. Not that it mattered. Tercio was all too happy to partake in good drink, good food, and the company of good mares. Some of his brothers had disappeared into various rooms with their fairer sex in tow, and while he'd been tempted to do so himself a few times, he'd thus far been content to delight the gathered mares with tales of his bravery -- sometimes embellished more than just a bit. They were, he thought, a very friendly bunch. None of them had made a move at him beyond some teasing, though the more he drank the more he wished they would be a little more...accommodating with him. Or each other.

He smiled as one of them -- a pretty young earth pony named, of all things, Peachy Pumpkin -- filled his cup once more. It wobbled in his hand before he took a long drink.

"That can't be your real name," he insisted with a laugh.

"Oh, but it is! What, you've never heard an Eastern Equestrian farmer's name before, Sir Tercio? I should be hurt to hear as much." She pouted dramatically, drawing giggles from the others.

"No harm intended, madam. I...I, too, am a farmer. Was a farmer. Still am. Sort of." He looked at his cup, watching it swirl before his eyes. It amused him more than it should have. "It would seem the bounty of Autumn Harvest is with me tonight."

"The Gods bless us with many things," Peachy agreed, "though I would posit that wine is the best of them all."

"You will find no argument here! Come, ladies, let us raise our merriment to Autumn Harvest. We will rejoice in Her gift to Equestria."

Four cups clattered together, and they drank their fill. Two of the mares -- Tercio could not, for the life of him, remember their names -- dropped their empty cups and up-ended the nearly empty carafe, which was down to barely more than a few drops. It dripped its last between them, and they giggled as their inhibitions faltered and they met in a passionate, more than slightly drunken kiss.

"Perhaps being a Praetorian isn't so bad after all," Tercio said to himself, content to sit back and watch with interest as their increasingly comfortable acts threatened to create a show he would not soon forget. Peachy Pumpkin's eyes were wide as she sat next to him, obviously uncomfortable with the situation.

"I was not expecting that..."

"Neither was I. You won't see me complaining, however."

She nodded. "Your interests are quite different from mine in this regard, Sir Tercio."

One of the mares had just pushed herself up on the edge of the bath, letting her legs dangle in the water, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Yes?" he asked, turning his head.

"Excuse me, sir, but are you the Praetorian known as Tercio?" It was a young mare with a pinkish-red coat. A unicorn, he noticed. She wore a loose-fitting, deep-blue toga with golden highlights that wrapped around her shoulder.

"I am..." he answered, his interests split between the mare speaking to him and the two who were now engaged in an act he could hardly draw his eyes from.

"Excuse the interruption, but Madam Sapphire Quill wishes the pleasure of your company. I will be happy to escort you up to her chambers. You may call me Ruby Rose."

Between the wine clouding his mind and the sight before his eyes it took a moment for the name to register.

"Sapphire. Right. I'd nearly forgotten." Quietly, he added, "damn her timing."

"Sir?"

"Yes, yes, I'll follow you. Give me a moment to gather my clothing and--"

"No need, I can do that for you."

Pink magic enshrouded her horn and floated over his stacked formal wear, which hovered beside her as she bowed courteously.

"Oh. Alright, then. I can't help but feel I'm not properly dressed to meet her, however."

Ruby Rose simply smiled. "There is no need to be embarrassed, Sir Tercio. Going without clothing is perfectly normal in the privacy and comfort of one's home. And you should very much consider this estate yours for the night."

Intimate with Equestrian society though he was, Tercio had always felt awkward at the concept of walking around with his nether regions open to the breeze. Looking around, he found a length of white cloth used for drying oneself after a bath, and quickly wrapped it around his waist, where it ended just above his knees.

"Ladies, I am afraid I've been called on," he told the mares still in the water. They bemoaned his departure, cloyingly calling to him to come back. "Believe me, I would very much like to. Perhaps I shall be free in some time." He bowed slightly to Ruby. "Lead the way."

Sapphire Quill's room was, without a doubt, larger than the entirety of the home he'd grown up in. Even before stepping through the entrance arch he was bombarded with sights and smells: fresh flowers of every color, small pots of burning incense, gems and jewelry that sparkled in the light of countless flickering candles. Everything, from the ceiling to the tables, was made of grey-black marble strewn with golden flakes that caught the light and twinkled like a cloudless night.

"Hello again, Tercio," Sapphire greeted him. She sat on a large, cushioned chair that resembled a basket turned slightly on its side, her cream-colored body partially hidden behind twin layers of sheer, dark blue fabric that wrapped around her shoulders and torso twice before hanging off to one side. Thin, delicate chains of gold dangled from a pair of rings just above the base of her ears, and a choker of gold and silver studded with tiny sapphires decorated her neck.

Tercio bowed in respect, impressed by his surroundings and the mare seated before him.

"Lady Sapphire. You look quite stunning, if I may be so bold."

"You may," she answered with a wry grin. "Come, join me, I insist." She patted the cushion next to her, then motioned to Ruby Rose. "You may leave Sir Tercio's belongings on the dresser, Ruby. Would you be a dear and fetch us some hot tea?"

"Of course, Miss Sapphire."

Ruby trotted off to the far end of the room, where a very expensive-looking tea set had been arranged on a low table.

"She's so helpful," Sapphire said as Tercio took a seat beside her. "I take it the party has been to your liking so far?"

"It has indeed," Tercio nodded. "I want to thank you for such a grand event, and I assure you the others feel the same way. It has been a long time since we've had the chance to relax and forget about our duties." He cleared his throat as he realized he was wearing nothing but a bathing towel. "I feel I must apologize for my lack of formal attire. I assure you I came properly dressed, but Miss Ruby was insistent that I needn't worry about getting fully dressed to see you. I hope I do not offend in such a regard."

Sapphire giggled, refined and practiced. "I can appreciate your modesty, but really, there is no need to worry about such things here. My home is your home, and I only wear this outfit for the sake of being a good hostess."

Tercio waved his hand at the opulent surroundings. "You have a beautiful estate here."

"Thank you."

"But if I may ask, aren't you a playwright? I had always considered northern Canterlot to be a place of blacksmiths and grain barons."

"You have a sharp mind, Sir Tercio."

"As much as it can be with gods-know-how-much wine in my stomach, anyway. Very good wine, might I add."

"Only the finest. But yes, I must admit this is not a home of my own design. My dear uncle left it to me when he passed, many years ago. Only recently have I been old enough to take advantage of its grandeur. I'm quite partial to it." She brushed a length of pink hair from her face. "It is well that I have found success in my own right, or this would be a very expensive place to live."

Ruby Rose returned with a tray on her back, and she levitated a ceramic tea pot and two small cups onto a table in front of Tercio and his host.

"Your tea, Miss Sapphire. Twist of lemon and a small spoon of sugar in each."

Sapphire smiled in delight as the scent caught her nose. "That will be all, Ruby. You may resume your cleaning now."

Tercio grasped the cup, almost amusingly small in his hands, and carefully took a sip.

"I've not had tea very often, but I could get used to it if it's this good." He paused for a moment, thinking of how to ask what was on his mind. "Miss Sapphire--"

"You can drop the 'miss' part," she interrupted with a grin.

"Sapphire, then. I must ask why you have shown such interest in me. You must understand: from my perspective, this is all very sudden."

"Oh I understand perfectly well. After all, it's not every day one is wined and dined by the elite of Equestrian society." Sapphire motioned with a hoof. "Obviously your unique looks are part of it, but please, do not think me interested in you solely because you are some sort of exotic creature to be gazed upon as a child gazes upon a lamb. No, there is something deeper at play here. Is it so wrong to want to know more about someone?"

"No, I suppose not. In that case, what is it you wish to know?"

"Whatever you would like to tell me," she said simply. "I am a patron of the arts, Tercio. I appreciate that there is drama and laughter and sadness and a thousand other emotions and experiences within each and every one of us. So please, tell me about yourself."

Tercio set down his cup and picked up a small bowl of fruit that was set beside it, full of brightly colored apples. "May I? A bit of food should help this wine and tea settle."

"By all means."

"Thank you." He grabbed an apple roughly the size of his fist that was peculiarly colored, like a rainbow. A bite revealed it to be juicy and sweet, with a strange tingling that was not unpleasant as it traveled down his throat, though he did cough at the unexpected sensation.

"Your first time having a zap apple, I take it? They say the heavens themselves strike the orchards with thunder and lightning to make them."

"It's certainly different. But yes, you wanted to know about me. Hmm..."

What was there to say? Aside from being physically different he didn't consider himself to be particularly unique. Surely others had led more interesting lives.

"Well, I was found in a field when I was but a very young child. Princess Celestia tells me I fell from the sky, like a falling star. My adoptive parents -- my mother, Glimmering Grace, and my father, Roughshod -- took me in out of the goodness of their hearts. Were I in their position, I cannot say I would have done the same with a child that was so strange compared to the rest of the world, especially since they had just had a foal of their own: my brother, Victus."

"They were good to you?"

"Far more than I could have asked for. Growing up among the other children was difficult at the best of times, and I faced nearly constant harassment from my schoolmates until I was old enough, and tall enough, to stand up for myself. Victus was always there for me, though. For most of my life we were inseparable."

"Most of your life?" she questioned.

"Yes. Upon reaching the age of seventeen we had decided to join the Equestrian Guard, mostly as a way of escaping a home life we thought to be boring and stagnant. My family has been farmers, at least on my father's side, for generations. While I still enjoy it to some extent, it's back-breaking work and the pay isn't anything of note. Enough for a comfortable life, but Victus and I wanted to travel, to see new places. That sort of thing." He laughed and added, "and yet most of my career has been spent in Equestria. Fate is strange."

"So you joined up?"

"Yes. I thought I would do well as a soldier. I have advantages the others do not."

Sapphire looked at him with interest. "Advantages? Such as?"

"Well, I am quite obviously taller than the others. It makes it hard for many ponies to fight me on equal terms, as they have to look up to watch all of my movements. I find that throws many of them off balance. I am also more flexible in my movements, since I am not restricted to mouthing the hilt of a sword. Only a unicorn can truly match my dexterity with a blade, I find."

"Funny you should say that. I, myself, am also quite...flexible," she giggled.

Tercio cleared his throat, unsure of what to say.

"Besides that, I have a longer reach than the others. Imperator Stonewall may be a hard-ass, but he's taught me to fight well. Far better than the basic combat drills we learned in the Equestrian Guard. 'Your mind must be as sharp as your blade', as he likes to say."

"Unless you happen to be...preoccupied?" she laughed.

Tercio saw himself being knocked to the ground time and again, his ridiculous notion of romance drawing him from his duties. A notion that had, somehow, resulted in his current situation.

"I, uh, must admit that was not my finest moment."

"I thought it was cute. I've seen stallions struck speechless at my approach, but never before have they also been struck in the head by a shield because of it. First time for everything, hmm?" She lifted the tea pot and smiled. "More tea, Sir Tercio?"

"Thank you, I would--"

For a few heartbeats his vision lost focus, and he shook his head to clear it away.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry...I must have imbibed more than my share of wine in the bath."

"An experience I have shared more than I would care to admit, believe me. Come, drink. The tea will help you focus." She poured a steaming cup and joined him in a drink, adding a twist of lemon and sugar for taste. "Please, continue."

"I...I was in the Equestrian Guard for some time. Oddly enough, I found it boring most of the time. My dreams of travel and adventure fell to the wayside, replaced by cleaning duties in the barracks or drill and ceremony to make the officers look important in front of foreign dignitaries. I suppose I still spend much of my time guarding doors these days, but at least I am afforded travel from time to time as the Princess' personal guard."

"And what of your brother, Victus? What does he do?"

"Victus is a Legionary!" Tercio said proudly, and perhaps a bit too loud. "As I said, we were close for much of our lives, but once Victus was accepted into the Legion we grew apart somewhat. One could argue it was out of necessity; Victus had dreams of Legionary service and I wanted to be a Praetorian. He obtained his posting first, a few years ahead of me, and I must admit with no small amount of shame that I was envious of him. Instead of the Praetorians I was moved up to the Royal Guard -- still a good place to be, but the Royal Guard is even heavier on pomp and ceremony than the regular rank and file I had just left. While my brother was fighting criminals I was polishing my armor and standing around from dawn to dusk. It could be said that...that..."

All of a sudden, seemingly without provocation, he was very aware of the fact that the mare across from him was stunningly beautiful. She seemed to glow in the soft light of dozens of candles, her eyes shimmering like precious gemstones, the curves of her body--

"Tercio? Are you sure you're well?"

He acted as if nothing had happened. Best not to draw attention to such things.

"Perhaps it was a lot of wine...but yes, I did not become a Praetorian until very recently, when the Whitetail invaded from the west. Victus was overjoyed to hear it, and we celebrated until early morning at a local tavern, just sharing stories of our childhoods and talking about how we would stop the whole damn deer army by ourselves if we had to."

Sapphire smiled and let one of the straps slide from her shoulder. "A very noble sentiment."

"Yes...noble. That was, uh..." He struggled to find his thoughts, feeling a strange tingle working its way from his hands and feet. "That was the last time I saw him. He is still well, last I heard, but with this war striking so close to home I can't help but feel a new-found appreciation for my family. Too many citizens lost loved ones during the recent attack."

"It was awful, truly awful," Sapphire said with a hoof to her chest. It traced a line down her body. Very slowly.

"And what of you, Sapphire? Do you...or rather, are you from Canterlot originally?"

"I am," she answered. "I've always enjoyed the sights and sounds of Equestria's capitol. The bustling crowds, the rooftops as far as the eye can see, the great palace looming over the city like a protective mother. It's provided me a source of endless inspiration. After all, one needs only venture outside to find a story worth telling. There are thousands of them out there, Tercio, just waiting to be discovered." She sipped her tea and laughed. "And they are all very profitable for one such as myself."

"Clearly it's working out for you. What made you want to be a playwright in the first place?"

Sapphire shrugged. "To be honest, it's not all that interesting. I want to say it's because I once saw a play when I was a filly, but I don't actually remember much of it. I thought it was terribly boring! But, I've always enjoyed creating and writing. I wanted to be an author for a time, but near the end of my time in Talent School I ventured into creating plays. My very first play, The Acts of One was stereotypically self-important and loaded with cliches, but it lit a fire within my soul. I wanted to improve. I've only been out of school for a few years, but I seemed to have struck gold with my second effort, A Shadow at Dawn. Within a few months it had become the best-attended play in the last century, and to this day it routinely sells out wherever it goes."

"You don't travel with it?"

She laughed. "Sometimes, but lately I haven't had the time or the inkling to do such a thing. I may be looking to start anew, however, and very soon. Call it a new venture."

"A new play, then?"

"Exactly. Just not for some time. There are still details to work out, and I enjoy my place in Canterlot. Besides, I have others who do the traveling for me. They ensure my work is represented exactly as it is written, and there are no finer actors in all of Equestria. Have you ever been to a play, Tercio?"

"No," he shook his head, "I am not exactly well-versed in such things. I like to consider myself well-read, however. Reading has been a hobby of mine for many years."

"The tallest of buildings are built upon the foundations of quill and parchment," Sapphire recited from memory.

"The Musings of Veranius,," Tercio replied.

"Very good! You are well-read. And here I thought it was all for show," she teased.

"I tend to have a lot of free time in the military. Ask any of my battle brothers."

"Oh I agree, that's why I invited all of you here tonight."

Tercio felt like a school colt, nervous and excited to be talking to a filly who was, in his mind, far out of his grasp.

"Did Celestia resist the idea?"

"Not at all! In fact, she encouraged it. She knows you've all been working very hard, and your jobs are so stressful. Tia is very generous like that. Not as generous as myself, of course."

"Right...generous..."

Generous, like the subtle curves of Sapphire's form. She was quite attractive...

"I only tease, of course. I cannot imagine what she has experienced in four hundred years of life. But then, she lives a life of regality and formality. She is not free to set aside her inhibitions and, say...share several pitchers of her finest wine with her guest of honor? At the very least, some fine tea?"

The tingling sensation had, by now, traveled up his arms and legs before settling in his chest. He found it increasingly hard to think -- or rather, to think of anything but Sapphire.

"...don't you agree, Tercio?"

He caught her gaze. "Yes, without a doubt. I...I should probably gather my belongings and find some place to rest for a time. Please excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, it's just that I would not want to be a poor guest by losing myself to drink." He pushed himself up from the chair, but stopped half way up. Sapphire had pulled herself from her own seat, and was standing before him.

"Rude? I would not dare think of you in such a way. You have been a wonderful, polite guest thus far. Only...politeness is so boring. I could be polite with any number of guests, but you, Tercio...you are different. It's there, just beneath the surface. Do you truly think me so blind as to not see it?"

"I am not sure what you mean."

"Please, there is no need to continue this game. The other day, on the balcony. I saw you looking at me. When I spoke with you, I saw your gaze wander and your thoughts flit from your mind. Even now, you grasp at straws to excuse yourself from my presence, lest your true intentions be revealed for fear of...well, I'm not sure of what, exactly. Perhaps you're embarrassed? Nervous? You needn't be."

Sapphire's words echoed in his mind, pleasant and soothing, like a warm blanket. He sat back down.

"I'm..." he put a hand to his head, his mind racing. "It's not that I am nervous in your presence, Sapphire."

"Mmm. So I can tell," she answered with a giggle. Tercio was vaguely aware of the fact that his towel had fallen, and he was now nude before her. Distantly, as if looking upon himself, he saw that he was growing increasingly erect. For some reason, he could not find it within himself to care. It was, he reasoned, perfectly normal.

"Goodness," she continued, "I am not sure what I had expected, but I am pleasantly surprised. Very pleasantly. I take it you are truly comfortable now, Sir Tercio?"

"I am getting there..."

Sapphire brushed the other strap from her shoulder, then unwrapped the formal wear from around her body. She took the soft, silky material in her grasp and played it up his leg.

"Perhaps I could help you get there faster?"

"I'm not sure I--"

She placed a hoof to his lips. "Just relax. Do not concern yourself with anything but my touch."

He found it hard to argue as she grasped him firmly and slowly, ever so slowly, took him in her mouth. He gasped at the sensation, setting his head back against the chair's thick cushions as she used her tongue to trace long lines up and down before bobbing her head. She moaned softly as she reached between her legs and touched herself, warm waves rippling through her body.

Tercio only opened his eyes once she stopped, lamenting that she had done so too soon. Sapphire did not say anything as she climbed up to straddle his legs, pushing herself into him with a firm kiss. Now fully lost in the moment, Tercio felt, rather than saw, the moment she lowered her warm, wet body onto him with a groan. She threw her head back and her breaths came out ragged, dripping with ecstasy.

"Sapphire..."

"Do you love me, Tercio?" She asked as she rocked her hips and pushed against him.

"I...I'm not..."

"Would you do anything for me?"

"...yes..."

She smiled at his answer, a wry, satisfied smile.

"I will be yours tonight. As often as you want, any way you want. My body is yours." She leaned in and breathily whispered in his ear, "all I ask is a single favor."

He looked into her azure eyes and nodded.

"Anything."

"Travel with me. Stay at my side. I will make you famous."

"I don't...don't understand..."

"The new venture I mentioned? It's you, Tercio." She thrust her hips forward for emphasis. "You will be the star of my greatest piece yet. Think of it: just you and I, all around the known world. A story of your life. A life you will share with me. Leave the Praetorians behind, forget the bloody battles and the stress of not knowing whether you will die the next day. Join me, and you will know joy the likes of which you've never imagined."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small ember started to grow. He could leave the military. What had it done for them? No more fighting, no more taking orders, no more guarding Celestia, no more--

Celestia.

With a rush like cold water he felt his senses return, clarity for the first time since he'd arrived. Horrified, he saw Sapphire smiling at him with a look he could only imagine seeing on a manticore before it pounced. Not only was he no longer seated by himself, he was now deep inside the mare who had, at his last reccolection, been merely beside him. He gasped at the realization. Where had his mind gone, to so casually let her coerce his thoughts? First the Deertongue word that brought unfathomable rage, and now the heartless toying of his baser desires by a mare who had outwardly appeared interested in his life? It was as if he was hardly in control of himself at all anymore.

"Tercio, my love? Are you--"

He grabbed her shoulders with both hands and pulled her face in close to his.

"What did you give me?" he asked quietly.

"What are you talking about? I didn't--"

"What did you give me?!" he shouted, pushing her off him so that she nearly fell off the chair.

"I merely sought to calm your nerves. A bit of an aphrodisiac never brought any harm."

"You drugged me! And for what?!"

It came back to him, the absurd request to leave behind everything he knew for a life of travel and sex with a mare he'd only just met. I will make you famous. The words echoed relentlessly.

"You misunderstand!"

"I misunderstand nothing, Sapphire! You want to make me into some sort of...of...spectacle! All of this, the party for my brothers, the drink and conversation, the false affection, was some misguided attempt at personal gain? Do you really think I would abandon my life for you?! I hardly know who you are!"

"I thought you were interested..."

"In you?! Ha! I had never even seen you until a few days ago! What kind of arrogance would possess you to assume that simply because I glance in your general direction that we are somehow meant to be together? I came here tonight to be polite, for the benefit of the stallions I fight beside, and when I regain my senses I find you riding my cock as if we were lovers!"

Sapphire sat back down on her side of the chair, fuming with frustration.

"I only wanted to give you a real life, Tercio!"

"As your play thing, your centerpiece. I cannot believe you would do such a thing." He leaned in and stuck a finger against her chest. "I will not abandon my all that I have worked for. Not for you, not for anyone. I am proud to be a Praetorian, to guard the very life of the Princess. It is not your affection that I seek, Sapphire. I am sorry you believed otherwise." He stood back up, wrapping the towel around himself and grabbing his clothes. "I am leaving."

"Please, Tercio, you must reconsider! Think of the thousands of Equestrian citizens that will delight at the story of your life! You will be known for all of history!"

Ashamed and disgusted with both himself and Sapphire, he turned and walked out of her presence.

"If I am to be remembered, it will not be because of you."

21 - Confession

Of all the things he valued, the simple pleasure of sleeping was, without a doubt, chief amongst them. Before his time in the Guard he would spend many hours a night sleeping blissfully in the comfort of his own bed, warm beneath wool blankets. That had all stopped the moment he joined up, and for the last fifteen years sleep had been a thing that only others experienced with any regularity. They had told him he would get used to it, that his body would adapt to needing less sleep. They had lied.

"Hey. Hey, Tercio. You awake?"

Tercio rolled over on his cot with a grumble.

"Hmm?"

"You've got night shift, remember?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. Night shift."

Sure enough, the sun had already set, and the moon hung low in the sky. It would be a long night. Still half asleep, Tercio mused that, were he married, he would at least be allowed to return to his home when off-duty. At it was, he had to hot-bunk in the barracks, taking someone's place as they left to start their own shift. Maybe one of the mares around town would take pity on him.

Forcing himself awake, and eyeing Rimeberry with envy as the stallion crawled into the spot he'd just left, Tercio went to the chest at the corner of the room and began the long process of putting on his full armor: buckling straps, adjusting fittings, working out the kinks where his shoulder pauldrons chafed against his neck without the proper amount of padding. Even with years of practice it was still a tedious affair. Finally, with his gold-decorated steel armor in place and his purple cloak tied on, he was ready for duty. A final check for his weapons -- a sword in a scabbard at his waist and a tall spear in hand.

Satisfied, he headed down the hallway, out of the Praetorian barracks wing. He passed the royal garden and waved to the grounds keeper, an older mare who took care of the exotic, magical plants that only bloomed at night. A few minutes and two flights of stairs later he was at the side entrance to the private kitchen's delivery hallway. A knock and a muttered password got him through, and from there it was a short walk past the empty throne room to Princess Celestia's personal quarters. Two soldiers stood guard at the short hallway leading to the twin rooms for Celestia and Luna -- the latter now closed off with a "No Entry" sign -- and they greeted Tercio warmly as he relieved them for the night.

"Hell of a party that was," the younger of the two, Frost Wind, said as he took his spear against his side with a sigh of relief. He rubbed a shoulder with a hoof. "Word has it you set the whole thing up or something."

His partner, a tall stallion named Carpisius, grunted in approval. "Yeah, not bad. You see those two pegasuses with the purple coats? I hear they went through half the Praetorian Guard last night."

"If they did, it didn't include me," Frost Wind replied in annoyance.

Tercio chuckled and knocked him on the helm.

"Don't feel too bad, Frost. I wouldn't exactly call my night particularly good, either."

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Tercio. We saw those three mares fawning over you like your prick was filled with gold."

"They were good company, nothing more...though at times I wished they would have been more forthcoming with their advances."

"Uh-huh. They were real good company for everyone when they started going down on each other in the bath, let me tell you!"

"Gods honest truth," Carpisius added. "Anyway, I'm tired as a dog. Let's get going."

"Right." Frost Wind tipped his spear. "Have a good one, Tercio. Whatever your part in it, thanks for the party at that mare's place. It was good to forget about guarding doors and hallways for a while. We owe you one."

With the stallions gone, Tercio was left by himself to take over guard duty. There he stood for long hours on end, only occasionally seeing someone pass by at the other end of the hall. He sighed. With the palace considered to be under less threat than it had been a few months prior, Stonewall had seen fit to reduce the night shift from two to one. Tercio wished he had someone to chat with, but instead he was left with only his thoughts to keep him company. Inevitably, they would turn to Sapphire Quill and her unwelcome advances.

No, he thought, "advances" wasn't nearly strong enough of a word to describe waking up from a stupor to find her riding him like a wild beast. What could have possibly possessed her to think such a thing would be appropriate? Did she honestly think that the prospect of a night of sex would be enough to draw him away from everything he'd worked for? No matter how he tried, he couldn't understand it. His knee-jerk reaction was to blame it on the selfishness and arrogance of the upper class, but such a thought was immature at best. After all, Celestia had been nothing but kind to him, and it didn't get much more "upper class" than ruling Equestria as a nigh-immortal being.

It was a shame about Sapphire. For a while she had shown herself to be a pleasant, intelligent conversationalist, and despite her sometimes pushy demeanor she was pleasant to be around, not to mention being quite attractive. All of that had been rendered moot after she'd drugged him and tried to take advantage of his altered mind.

The sound of metallic hoofsteps on the polished floor snapped him out of his day dreaming, and he quickly assumed a military bearing. Princess Celestia appeared around the corner a moment later, her head drooped in a clear sign of exhaustion.

"Princess," Tercio said, saluting with a fist over his chest. Despite her mood Celestia offered a smile in return.

"As you were, Tercio." He went back to a resting position, leaning his spear against the wall.

"How fares your night?"

"Busy," Celestia answered with a tired laugh. "A representative from Saddle Arabia insisted on bringing twenty of his closest servants -- sorry, "assistants" -- with him everywhere he went. He also speaks little to no Equestrian, and my Saddle Arabian is less than ideal. That was always Luna's duty."

"So communicating was a bit hard, I take it."

"You would not believe me if I told you. Did you know Saddle Arabian translators have their own caste system now? Of the twenty of his servants, six were translators, belonging to three different castes. So I would speak to one of them, and that translator would tell the next translator, and he would tell the next, before the final translator finally told the Saddle Arabian representative."

Tercio was still trying to work out the logistics of it.

"I...don't see how that's particularly useful. Or sane."

"That makes two of us," Celestia said. "This process was repeated when the representative tried to speak to me in return. A simple conversation about continued trade took three hours." She sighed loudly. "Whatever happened to clarity in simplicity?"

"I couldn't begin to say, Princess."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to dump my problems on you. I'm sure you'd rather not listen to me prattle on about dignitaries and self-important ponies."

"All part of the job description," he joked. He was pleased to get a small laugh in return.

"So it would seem. I should probably retire for the night, lest my thoughts turn to flight from my duties. Cave living would likely not be an improvement. Actually, before I go, may I be a bother and ask for a cup of tea?"

"Spoon of honey and a bit of lemon? Of course."

Celestia floated her crown from her head and smiled warmly.

"Am I really that predictable?"

"You have asked for the same thing from the night shift for the last two months, Your Highness. We know your needs practically before you speak them."

Celestia trotted down the hall, pushing open the doors to her room with a flash of magic.

"See? I knew there was a reason I kept all of you around."

"Damnation! It had to have been here! I know it!"

Victus kicked the dirt at his hooves, fuming at the loss of the pendant he'd worked so hard to get a hold of.

"We've been here since early morning, Equestrian, and still we have nothing to show for it," Gilias fired back.

"Then we will keep looking!"

Nearly an entire day had been spent deep in the forest where the Nightmare Moon cult's camp used to be, back before Victus and his small band of Legionaries had stolen their way in thanks to some theatrics by the group's now-permanent griffon addition. Though the mission had ultimately not resulted in any Legion deaths, they had come back with little in the way of new information about the cult's inner workings. After a hard-fought battle Victus had collapsed in the mud, and had to be carried back to the medicae tents by the others. Somewhere along the way, or perhaps during the fight, he had lost the medallion that had seemed to be the only thing of import in the entire camp.

Spending two weeks recovering from his wounds had not helped matters, and most of the Legion camp had moved on to support the southern tip of the push into Whitetail, leaving only a hoof-full of soldiers and a single apothecary behind.

"All of that blood shed for nothing!" He swore and stomped a hoof in frustration. "Perhaps I should have joined Tercio and fought with the Praetorians instead. At least then I wouldn't be searching through two weeks of muck and dead leaves."

"Now what?" Rockfall, the squad's sole archer, asked after several seconds of silence.

"I don't know. Perhaps...perhaps we should head back after all."

Gilias spread her wings out and flapped into the air.

"First rational thing I've heard you say all day. Don't get your balls in a wad, there are always more of those darkness-worshiping lunatics to stab in the face later. We'll get another one of your little pendants soon."

What had been so damned important about it? he wondered. There were far more valuable things lying around the camp's shrine -- gold, jewels, silver finery -- but only the carved ivory in the shape of a heavenly constellation had its own place above the others. Whatever it was, he was going to find it again. Cults be damned.

Tercio yawned and stretched his arms out wide, scratching his side where his tunic had developed an annoying, persistent itch. He wished he had a bed. A bed and a hot bath. Maybe at the same time. A cold breeze would occasionally blow in from the moonlight window down the hall; he cursed the cold, wishing he had a fire nearby to keep him warm, or at least a long winter wrap, but he was thankful that it helped keep him awake.

No armed enemy would best him, but if that enemy showed up with a sleeping roll he might just let the whole damn palace fall if it meant a good night's rest. So long as they kept it down, they could pillage all they pleased.

A short distance away, Celestia's door opened. Tercio craned his neck and saw a candle in a silver sconce float out in a cloud of yellow magic, followed by the Princess herself. She lacked her usual crown and breast collar, and her flowing mane drooped against her neck and across her back. A silken chiton crossed both of her shoulders and trailed on the floor to either side of her, its loose, pearl-colored fabric connected to a golden ring around the base of her neck.

"Princess?" he asked cautiously. "Is there something you need?"

Clearly not fully awake, Celestia took a few steps toward him.

"Did your replacement not show up?" she asked.

He glanced at the moon, only halfway through its arc in the sky.

"It is still the middle of the night. I have several more hours."

"Hmm?" She looked for herself, squinting against the full moon. "Right. My mistake." She turned back to Tercio. "My apologies, it has been somewhat of a restless night."

"Your sister?" he asked, still not sure if Celestia was familiar enough with him to allow such a question.

"Yes," she said simply.

"I'm sorry. Would you like me to fetch you another tea, or...?"

Celestia shook her head. "No, thank you. I was hoping you would join me in taking a walk around the palace grounds. Some fresh air would do me well, I think."

"Oh," he said, surprised. "If you would like. I am yours to command, after all."

Celestia let out a dramatic, exasperated sigh.

"Tercio, I appreciate formality as much as the next princess, but I am not asking you as my guard. I am asking you as my friend. I could use someone to talk to."

Tercio picked up his spear and returned a light smile.

"In that case, I would be happy to."

He waited for Celestia to reach his side, then grabbed a quietly burning torch from its holster near the throne room doors. They took the short route to the outside, bypassing the extravagant hallway full of stained glass images in favor of a staff walkway that led to the delivery and storage areas. From there they curved around the great stone walls of the palace's outer defenses and arrived at the grand garden. Not a soul was in sight. Celestia had remained quiet for most of the trip, but the smell of evergreen pine seemed to reinvigorate her. It was cold out, but not unbearable.

"Have you ever been to the garden at night?" she asked Tercio, who was still at her side. A sharp, orange glow lit the area around them as he held the torch close for warmth.

"I can't say I have. At least, not this late. Even Moonglade appears to be gone for the night. I saw her earlier, before my shift."

"I like to come out here sometimes when I can't sleep. Lately it's been more and more frequent..."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I can't imagine what it must be like to have such a burden on your shoulders. An entire nation to watch over, an unwanted war to manage -- and Princess Luna."

He looked up at the full moon, the visage of the fallen Princess of the Night forever burned into its very being.

"I still see her sometimes, you know" she admitted. "I have not told anyone else. I fear what they would think of me."

"Yet you don't fear what I would think?"

She smiled. "No. You have a good heart and a sharp mind. Whatever you may think of yourself, you are not judgmental." Her expression turned serious once more. "She often comes to me in my dreams, a writhing mass of acrid smoke and incorporeal darkness. At times, I even see her in my waking hours, as if she never left. Sometimes she appears as I knew her, beautiful and elegant, but always she speaks as Nightmare Moon. It is my burden to carry, but I wish it were not so."

"You can always speak with me about it," Tercio said, stepping around a row of short bushes that glittered in the torch light. "I can't say I have shared any experience even remotely as terrible as what you have gone through, but I can at least offer my support."

"I know. That's why I asked you to come with me tonight. I truly appreciate it." Rather than dwell on it further, Celestia sought to change the subject. "How was the party last night, for the Praetorians? Or I suppose it would be two nights ago now, wouldn't it?"

"That it would. It was..." He struggled to find the right word. "Interesting, we'll say."

"Oh?"

"My battle brothers were quite overjoyed to attend, and be attended to. Even Imperator Stonewall was there, with his wife. They were negotiating supply deals while everyone else was drinking and fu--uh, carousing. Yes."

"Always the pragmatist," Celestia laughed.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen so much wine in one place in my entire life. Miss Sapphire was very generous in that regard."

And other regards, I'd bet, Celestia thought with a tinge of annoyance. Goodness only knew what Sapphire would do to get her way. She put on a smile anyway.

"That sounds like a lovely time. So you enjoyed your stay, then?"

Tercio cleared his throat.

"We were pleased to be off duty, certainly. The Praetorians, that is. They seem to be under the impression that such an event was my doing, when really all I did was agree to meet with Miss Sapphire at no cost to myself. I could hardly turn down a night of relaxation for the very stallions I fight beside."

Celestia eyed him with an amused look.

"I did not ask about the others, Tercio, I asked about you."

"I...I enjoyed myself. Mostly. Sharing stories with the others was something I'll never forget. At least, those stories I was sober enough to remember."

"I see. And how did your evening event with Sapphire go?" Celestia asked with a mix of genuine curiosity and mild annoyance. Sapphire was still young, and Celestia knew she shouldn't begrudge her for anything that might result from it, but such a thing was easier said than done sometimes.

"Well, uh, Miss Sapphire was polite and conversational. She is certainly one who deserves her title as the premier playwright of our generation."

That was a guarded response if I've ever heard one, Celestia thought.

"She is quite talented, yes," she agreed. "You were her guest for the evening, after all, and one would not expect a host to be rude or anything less than talkative."

"Without a doubt."

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear it." They passed rows of brightly-colored flowers that glowed pink and blue and white, and vines that shrank and grew as they reached out for the light of the torch. "The event's announcement was quite sudden, as I'm sure you're aware. Sapphire Quill has only been a guest of the palace for a short time, and the others sometimes look down on her eagerness. Perhaps we've forgotten what it was to be that young."

Tercio thought on his answer. "I believe Miss Sapphire is used to getting what she wants. Her life is very different from mine, and certainly different from yours."

"Did she mention to you why she wanted to host the event in the first place?"

He laughed. "I am embarrassed to say so, but I believe she thought my occasional glances at the royal platform to be a sign of affection, or longing. How she thought so much from so little, I could not say."

So, Sapphire was wrong after all. The young mare had been fooling herself.

"Why were you so interested in our viewing platform, anyway?" Celestia asked, prying just a bit. "It is not as if you haven't seen it many dozens of times before."

"Well, to be completely forthcoming, I sometimes feel...demoralized, I suppose you could say. The hours are long and the work is hard for ones such as ourselves. Seeing you up there, even for a brief moment, helps remind me of what I am training so hard for."

Celestia was thankful he couldn't see her blushing. She gave a genuine smile all the same.

"That's very kind of you. That's exactly why I have watched over my Praetorians for all of these years. Many have said something similar." Absently, she felt her mane and tail billowing just a little bit more than they had been. "But yes, as I said, the event was unplanned to the best of my knowledge. As long as you and your fellow soldiers had a good time, I cannot ask for more."

"They had a good time of it, yes. I've no doubt they will remember it fondly."

Celestia came to a stop, with Tercio in front of her.

"You're sure that's all there is to say about the event?"

"That would be it. I do not lead a particularly interesting life at the best of times."

He hid it well, but it was there -- something beneath the surface. Had she been any other mare, Celestia likely would not have noticed it. But hundreds of years dealing with the disingenuous, overly polite attitudes of countless diplomats, heads of state, and citizens looking for a leg up had made her very good at picking out falsehoods.

"Very well. Just remember: I am here if you ever have a concern or need to speak at length, no matter how hard it may seem to discuss something."

A simple reassurance was sometimes all that was needed. She watched him carefully, saw as he averted his eyes for the briefest of moments. It was entirely possible nothing more would come from it if he was set in his ways...but there was always the chance.

"Thank you," he said in response, "I shall keep that in mind."

With that, Celestia led the way back to the palace. Tercio said hardly a word.

"Night shift again, eh? You poor bastard."

Thunderburst laughed and trotted off, leaving Tercio behind to stare at the duty roster. Twice in a row? It was beginning to feel less like a posting and more like a punishment. Another long night, another span of endless hours with only his thoughts to keep him occupied.

Still, there was no use in complaining. He had a job to do, no matter how tedious it was. He squeezed in a quick meal before catching a precious few hours of dreamless sleep, and before long he was standing guard near Celestia's quarters once more. It was, mercifully, not nearly as cold as the previous night.

Once again he waited for the Princess to return from her royal duties, and they greeted each other with the usual pleasantries and small talk before she took her leave for the night. The doors to her room shut and latched, and silence filled the halls.

In the uncomfortable quiet Tercio could see and hear Sapphire's every action as if it were happening all over again; the conversation in her bedroom, bits and pieces of intimacy that had been forced upon him, the sudden sensation of returning to his senses. Yet again his mind had been violated, by substance rather than the spoken word. He wanted to pretend it had never happened, and yet the more he thought about it the angrier he became. Who was she to push herself on him, to act as if everything was about her wants and needs? Did she honestly believe he would give up everything to be with her, a mare he'd known for scant minutes?

The obvious solution, of course, was to tell Celestia what had happened. She, of all ponies, would understand, and would likely be reviled and disgusted by Sapphire's actions. Yet Sapphire was a guest of the royal court, and it was common knowledge that not just anyone was worthy of taking seat beside the most powerful and influential ruler in the land. The young mare had done something of worth to earn her spot on the observation platform. Maybe she contributed part of her earnings to the war effort, or had a hoof in some venture outside of the stage? He could only guess.

Still...if he knew Celestia as he thought he did, it was unlikely she would keep Sapphire around after hearing about the night of the event. There was always a line of well-to-do ponies looking to join the royal court, wasn't there? Sapphire would be replaced, and it would mean he wouldn't have to see her staring at him during his combat drills again. Most importantly, it would give him some peace of mind. Keeping such a secret would be toxic, and he knew it in the very pit of his soul. Could he trust himself to not let it build until it burst forth in a fit of rage, brought on by any number of things? If he valued his place in the Praetorians, he very much doubted it.

"Gods see me through this," he muttered as he picked up his spear and walked to Celestia's quarters. He stopped before the ornate wooden doors and hesitated, his fist just inches away. There would be no going back once he started.

Three sharp knocks echoed through the hall. For a moment there was no answer; was waking the Princess really wise? He'd heard Stonewall warn against such a thing unless it was a dire emergency. He was about to turn around and leave when he heard the door lock unlatch from the other side.

Celestia peeked her head out. "Tercio? Is there something I can help you with?"

Tercio stumbled over his words until he took a breath to calm himself.

"I hope I am not interrupting you, Princess. I can come back tomorrow if you're preoccupied, or sleeping, or--"

She shook her head. "It's alright, I don't mind. Is something the matter?"

"It's about the other night, at the party Sapphire threw for myself and the others. I...I may not have been entirely truthful when I spoke with you earlier in the garden."

She'd been right: all was not as it had appeared. She pushed the door open and stepped aside.

"Please, come in. Whatever you wish to discuss, I am open to hearing it."

Seated on a pair of cushions, Tercio and Celestia talked for what seemed to be a long time. He told her everything he could remember -- the copious amounts of wine, the nearly nude state of his visit to Sapphire's bedroom, the tea he was convinced was laced with an Equestrian aphrodisiac he couldn't begin to identify. He even told her of how he'd snapped back to his senses to find Sapphire atop him, and the resulting anger he'd felt from being taken advantage of. It was humiliating, and the more he spoke of it the more he felt ashamed for his actions, no matter what had been running through his veins at the time. They were the actions of a fool, he insisted. The actions of a lovestruck teenager, not of a grown man who should have known better.

Through it all Celestia listened intently, her face rarely betraying her true state of mind. To hear such horrible things about Sapphire, the mare she'd previously thought trustworthy, if a bit too ambitious and lustful for her own good, turn out to be nothing but a smokescreen for her true intentions was a shock the likes of which she could have hardly imagined.

"She asked me to give up everything! My career in the Guard, my brothers in arms, my life as I knew it, all so she could make me some sort of performance piece in her 'next great play.'" Tercio laughed bitterly. "Her next great play. A play about my life! In return I would be famous, she said. I would be known throughout Equestria. I would be rich. I would have endless nights of torrid sex. All I would have to do is surrender my soul to a mare I'd known barely an hour." His face turned sour and he scoffed at the idea. "Perhaps if I were a younger man I would have said yes. But I am not the man I was when I signed up. I am thirty-two years old now. I have the responsibility of watching over the lives of those around me. The Praetorians depend on me, and I on them. I will not leave them until the very life has bled from my veins and the air has left my lungs."

"And you're absolutely sure of what you say? Such accusations are not to be taken lightly, as I'm sure you understand."

"I would not have asked to speak with you if I was not, Princess."

Celestia stood up and walked to the open doors of her balcony, letting the cool breeze calm her mind and help her think. The thought of Sapphire going through with such a backstabbing plan chilled her more than any cold night. She'd invited the playwright to join her as a guest because of her charm and her contribution to Equestrian art and society. Apparently, Sapphire's ambitions did not stop there. To attempt something so bold was completely beyond the pale.

"I must admit to being surprised by the idea of Sapphire doing something so brazenly wrong. In the short time that I've known her she's always shown herself to be reliable and trustworthy, if sometimes brutally honest in her opinions. To think she could drug you and take advantage of your baser urges is...apalling, to say the least."

"I know," Tercio said. "It was not an easy decision to come to you with this."

"That said...I like to think I have become quite adept at separating truth from fiction in my long years, and I do not detect any lies or malice in your words. Indeed, there are many who would have kept such an incident hidden out of fear -- either of retribution, or ridicule."

"So you believe me, then?"

Celestia frowned, and in that moment Tercio deeply regretted having to tell her at all.

"I do. I wish I didn't -- I wish Sapphire had not shown herself to be untrustworthy -- but I believe what you've told me. I will have to speak with her in the morning."

"I see..." He hesitated before asking, "and what will become of her?"

"I don't know. Not yet," Celestia answered with a tinge of sadness. "At the very least, she will not be invited back to the palace. Beyond that, we will have to see."

"As you say. I am truly sorry to bring such terrible news, Celestia. I did not wish to ruin your night or your mood."

Celestia placed a hoof on his shoulder. "Don't be. You have every right to feel sickened by what happened to you, and you did the right thing in coming to me."

A bitterness welled inside him, burning his chest. "Even as an adult I am a second-class citizen to some. The Praetorian who threatened me at Swiftwing said I was a dangerous monster. Sapphire assumed that I would be more than willing to leave everything behind and join her. Am I not afforded basic decency simply because of my physical appearance?" He caught himself raising his voice and stopped before he lost his temper, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm sorry. I know the vast majority of those I meet do not think ill of me, but it's always the select few that linger."

"I understand, more than you can know," Celestia said reassuringly. "Being the long-lived ruler of Equestria does not make me immune to the slings and arrows of those who, for whatever reason, do not care for me. I can remember some of the hurtful things that were yelled at me three hundred years ago just as readily as if they happened yesterday. Human or equine, some things are the same no matter who you are." She placed his hand on her chest and offered a warm smile. "All that matters is what's in your mind and in your heart."

For a long second Tercio met her comforting gaze and felt the warmth of her skin, and in that moment he could not have wished to be anywhere else.

"Thank you," he said as he pulled back from her. "For the kind words, I mean. You have given me much to think on during these long hours."

"You're very welcome. And thank you for being strong enough to speak with me about Sapphire and her actions. I give you my word that she will not seek your presence again."

Tercio stood up from his cushion and placed his helm back on his head, then grabbed his weapons and shield that were lying against the corner.

"I should get back to my duties. Stonewall will have a fit if he catches me away from my post."

Celestia laughed softly. "You were speaking with me on a very important matter, I do not believe he has the authority to object." She opened the twin doors with an aura of magic, floating out a candle for extra light. "Please, do not hesitate to come to me with any other matters of import. I am always available...if I'm not preoccupied with politics, at least."

"I will, thank you."

"Very well. Have a good night, Tercio."

He stopped in the hallway and bowed in respect.

"And you as well, Celestia." The doors had nearly closed when he spoke up once more, facing away as he slid his arm into the backing strap of his tower shield. "It was you, you know." He turned back to face her. "When I came to my senses in Sapphire's quarters. I...I thought of you, and how I couldn't possibly abandon the trust you'd shown in keeping me at your side. I truly enjoy my time with you."

Celestia met his eyes and saw something within him, warm and familiar.

"In a way...I suppose you could say you saved me yet again."

He made as if to continue, but stopped himself.

"Have a good night, Princess."

With that, Tercio returned to his post at the end of the hall. Celestia watched him for a short time, then quietly closed the doors. Alone with her thoughts once more, she sat on the end of her bed, his words playing before her again. Deep down, she already knew what he'd meant without having to consider it. The look in his eyes, the way he'd carried himself as he spoke with her. All those times they'd sat down and laughed and enjoyed each other's company. It was not just admiration, or respect, that had driven him to share so much. It was affection. Love.

She lied down, the realization pulling at her. Sapphire's actions were a lot to consider already, but this...

She closed her eyes and clutched her pillow tight, and as she drifted off to sleep she felt his hand on her chest once more.

22 - An Untouchable Dream

It was a pleasantly warm afternoon at the northern tip of Canterlot's wealthiest district, and Sapphire Quill was deep into a stack of papers that would eventually become the initial draft of her next play. She sat in a comfortable chair on a scenic balcony, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in thought. With the idea of a play focused on the human scrapped -- for now -- she had fallen back on her previous project, a drama piece about a pegasus living among griffons. Only upon writing the lines for one of the main characters did she realize she didn't know nearly as much about griffon culture as she thought. Perhaps a trip to the Empire was in order...

"You're tense, Mistress Sapphire. Are you feeling well?"

Sapphire glanced down from her writing tablet, where Ruby Rose had pulled away from between her spread legs, her mouth glistening with wetness.

"It's true what they say: the struggle of the artist, of the creator, is never over."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mistress. Am I not satisfying you?"

Sapphire smirked and went back to her writing with a wave of her hoof.

"You do nothing wrong, Ruby. Do try to put a little more effort into it, though."

"Of course, Mistress."

The Empire would be busy this time of year, preparing their mountain homes for the long, bitter winters that Skytalon was famous for. She wondered if her contacts on the border were still around, or if they'd moved on. It had been several years, after all. She made a mental note to send a courier out that way.

"Things would be easier if this damned war wasn't getting in the way. Bad for business, I th -- ohh. That's better. Right there, if you would."

At least one thing remained true: the perks of fame and fortune were great and endless. A beautiful place to live, a young mare to satisfy one's every whim, and the pull to get whatever she desired.

A knock on the door frame interrupted her continued writing.

"What?" she asked impetuously, turning to face one of the servant mares who had made herself known.

"My deepest apologies, Mistress, but you have a visitor at the door."

"Tell them they can come back later. I am busy."

"It is Princess Celestia, Mistress."

"Well why didn't you say so in the first place? Tell her I'll be right there."

The servant bowed and left, trotting back through the master bedroom before going out of sight.

"Tia is eager for my company! Wonderful news." She motioned to Ruby, waving her away. "We shall pick up where we left off when I return. I may require use of your horn to finish."

Ruby returned to her hooves and dipped her head. "As you say, Mistress."

Sapphire hopped down from her chair and quickly checked herself in the mirror, fixing her mane and quickly fluffing her tail to give it more volume. Satisfied with her appearance, she cheerfully left to greet the Princess, humming merrily to herself as she went.

"Tia! What an unexpected surprise!"

Celestia bowed gracefully, fully aware that she could not show how she truly felt when others might be watching.

"Hello, Sapphire. How do you fare this fine morning?"

"So far? Quite well, albeit with a bit of writer's block. Entertaining the masses is so demanding at times."

"I'm sure. Do you mind if I come inside?"

Sapphire scoffed playfully. "That is an honor usually reserved for stallions, but I might let it pass this once."

Classy as always, Celestia thought, hiding it behind a smile.

"Please, come in. Would you care for some refreshments? I have a wonderful vintage of honeyed amasec that's simply divine!"

"No, thank you. I've still a busy day ahead of me and I cannot lose any of myself to alcohol. You understand."

"Of course, of course. Opal berry juice, then? Citrus water?"

"I am only here for a short time, but again I thank you." Celestia ordered her escorting guards to remain outside, then entered the brightly lit entry hall of Sapphire's mansion-like home. "Sapphire, do you have somewhere we could talk? In private?"

"You can consider anywhere in my home to be private. My assistants are sworn to the utmost secrecy, after all. But...if you really want it to be just us, there is a room usually reserved for wine tasting down in the cellar. Would that do?"

"That would be fine."

Celestia followed alongside the talkative mare, who was busy excitedly explaining the concept of her newest creation. The Princess smiled and nodded and quipped to feign interest, but the real reason for her visit was the only thing occupying her thoughts. They traveled down a marble hallway, passing a set of bedrooms, then took two flights of stairs to a dark, cool room lined with bottles of red and white wines. It smelled musty and damp, like a cave. Sapphire lit a row of candles and sat on a cushion opposite her guest, beaming from ear to ear.

"Consider me delighted to see you at my humble home, Tia. How is life treating you at the palace?"

"Busy, but tolerable." Celestia motioned to the wine racks, dotted with dozens of holes. "It would appear your party was a great success. The Praetorians speak of it as being quite entertaining, even if they are sometimes a bit too...descriptive, shall we say."

Sapphire laughed. "I like to think it accomplished its purpose. After all, they work so hard and put so much on the line for us. If I can reward them with drink and debauchery, then I will do my part without fail. It's only money, and I do not want for it, as you can see."

"So it seems. While it was an unexpected, somewhat sudden thing, I wanted to thank you for treating them to a night of relaxation. The opportunities are few and far between these days."

Sapphire was practically beaming. Getting in with the Princess was one thing, but getting in with her and her soldiers was above and beyond what she could have hoped for. The connections she could establish!

Celestia suddenly grew very serious.

"Now with that out of the way, there is something we need to discuss."

"Yes?"

"It's about Tercio."

Sapphire's smile immediately faded.

"Tercio? What about him?"

"There have been some very serious allegations brought against you, Sapphire."

Her face went pale, her lip twitching despite her efforts to not show any reaction.

"W-What sort of allegations, exactly?"

"He claims you drugged him with an aphrodisiac, then took advantage of him both physically and mentally. He also says you tried to get him to leave his posting to join you in a 'play based on his life.'"

Sapphire got to her hooves and stood before Celestia.

"You don't actually believe that, do you? Tia?"

"I don't want to," Celestia answered, "but I cannot ignore such a claim. I want you to tell me what happened between you and him, and please, if you respect our friendship in the least, do not lie about it."

Sapphire gathered herself with a deep breath, but she still paced back and forth.

"I...I invited Tercio up to my chambers at some point during the night. We had both had more than our share of wine, but we were, at least, coherent enough to hold a conversation. He told me of how he came to Equestria, and what his career had been like, and in return I told him about how I'd become a playwright. It was pleasant, though I am ashamed to say I let the alcohol cloud my judgment."

The Princess' gaze never left Sapphire's own.

"Go on."

"At some point we grew somewhat close; whether it was due to the wine or actual attraction, I cannot say. Perhaps a bit of both. In any case, I made the first move, as I tend to, and we were soon making love. I do not remember much of it, though I am exceptionally hurt that Sir Tercio believes I took advantage of him. It did not seem that way when we were together."

Celestia was quiet for a time, clacking a metallic shoe on the floor as she considered Sapphire's words.

"And what of the aphrodisiac? You know that such a thing is skirting a very fine line."

"Look, Tia...I might have used just a bit. You know, just to lighten the mood, to enhance our more primal urges. Is it really so wrong to want to share in the pleasures of the flesh?"

"It is when the person you're using it on did not give his consent to such a thing. It is one thing for two ponies to use it in the privacy of their own lives to share their love, but this...this is very nearly rape, Sapphire."

"Rape? I am shocked you would use such a word. It may not have been love, but what is wrong with lust? Have you never wanted to experience the raw, carnal desires gifted to us by the gods without a relationship attached to it?"

"Do not attempt to make this about me," Celestia warned her. "And furthermore, such a question is hardly appropriate."

"Accusing me of rape is also hardly appropriate, Tia."

"Celestia."

"I -- what?"

"You may call me Celestia, or you may call me Princess, but do not call me Tia. That is a nick name that I am not comfortable with."

"Oh." Sapphire looked defeated and disappointed, though whether it was with herself or with the nick name, Celestia wasn't sure. "Very well, then...Princess. You could have told me this sooner, you know." She stopped and scratched her chin with a hoof before continuing. "So, yes, I admit that I did give Tercio a bit of aphrodisiac. It was no more or less than I have used with others in the past. Perhaps he was affected by it more strongly than a pony would be? In any case, I only did so because I thought he was in love with me." She laughed at the idea. "So much for that."

"In love with you. Because he would occasionally glance at the viewing platform? You do realize how that sounds, don't you?"

"When you put it that way..."

"And this love you thought the two of you shared, was that also justification for attempting to get him to abandon his career and his soldiers?"

Sapphire flushed red, flustered. She stumbled over her words.

"I did not attempt to...I mean...it wasn't my intention to make him...ugh!"

"You seem hesitant to answer the question," Celestia said evenly.

"Of course I am! Somehow my attempt to share a night of passion, and nothing more, has turned into an interrogation."

"But you said you thought he was in love with you. That would imply more than simple lust, Sapphire."

"Can't one lead to the other? I admit I am aggressive at times but I never asked him to leave his life behind."

"That's not how he tells it."

"Then he is lying!" Sapphire shouted, stamping her foreleg for emphasis. "Since when does riding a cock make you a criminal and a liar? As if I am the first mare to fuck someone of import! Perhaps I should have aimed lower and gone for a street merchant!"

"Please watch your words, Miss Sapphire. It is only respectful."

"Respectful? There is nothing respectful about the position he has forced upon me."

Celestia lifted a hoof to quiet the young mare down.

"I will ask you plainly: did you, or did you not, ask Tercio to join you in a play about his life?"

"It was an entertaining idea, nothing more. It was something I said in the heat of the moment, in the throes of ecstasy. I did not mean it! I would never try to--"

"Sapphire, do you think me easily fooled?"

"What do you mean? Why would you say that?"

"It's as clear as day that you are hiding the truth of the matter, and I do not make that claim lightly. I want to make something very clear: lying about such a thing -- about attempting to draw Sir Tercio away from his duties, nevermind drugging him against his will -- is a very serious offense. You are advocating desertion, a crime punishable by banishment. What's worse, you are doing it under the pretense of a drugged mind and body, in addition to forcing yourself on him without his say in the matter."

Sapphire stood in place, not saying anything, but her jaw trembled like a branch in the wind.

"Let me be honest with you, Sapphire. I think you're a good mare with a lot of potential, and I think that, one day, you will be remembered as one of the great artists of our time. But you are not above the law. I have heard tale of your exploits, and they are sometimes distasteful. But you are young, beautiful, wealthy, and influential. That is a dangerous combination, and I do not believe you fully understand that yet."

Celestia placed a hoof on Sapphire's shoulder.

"None of us can say we are without flaws, or have never made bad decisions. I certainly made my share when I was young, and sometimes still do. But this path you're on will lead you to ruin if you do not change it. Now...there are two ways we can go about this mess. Do you understand?"

Sapphire nodded, no longer willing or able to snap back.

"Good. The first option is that you confess what actually happened. You tell me everything, from start to finish. I want absolute truth. If you do so, then I will ask Tercio how he wants to proceed, and we will go from there. Alternatively, you may continue your ruse, your half-truths and couched lies, and I will be forced to bring in the Royal Guard to speak with everyone who was in attendance that night. If it comes down to that, then I assure you things will not be as easy."

Celestia lifted Sapphire's head and fixed her eyes on the trembling mare.

"Make no mistake: what you have done will end in punishment. It is up to you to decide how severe that ends up being."

Overwhelmed, Sapphire sat on her haunches on the verge of tears, shaking her head as if it were a bad dream she could will away. The thought of giving up everything she'd earned was too much.

"Alright. I'll tell you everything you want to know..."

Sword and shield clashed in a flurry of movement, a lethal dance of steel and iron and wood that had played out a thousand times before. Both fighters looked for the tiniest hesitation, the slightest miscalculation, that would allow them to land the killing blow. Long seconds passed before, finally, a shield parry knocked aside a blade, allowing a gladius to be thrust mere inches from an exposed throat.

"Well played, Krosus! Well played!"

Imperator Stonewall clapped a hoof against Tercio's back, motioning to the blade that had come to a rest just in front of Celestia's neck. Nearly an hour had passed since the start of the day's combat drills -- the very same the princess had so struggled with for several weeks now. She had improved, without a doubt, but extended training still wore her down and splintered her thoughts.

"She almost had you that time."

"Almost," Tercio smirked in Celestia's direction. The princess returned the favor and took a few steps back, sliding her dual long swords into sheathes on one side of her body as she knocked back a crystal glass of flavored water. Combat training, she'd found out, worked up a vicious thirst. "That was quite good, Princess. At this rate we'll make you a world-class swordsmare in no time."

"Easy to say when you are used to such a lifestyle," Celestia retorted.

Polaris, scarred from his encounters with both the cultists and Tercio's then-unknown rage, levitated a pair of his own weapons before him, swinging them a few times to get a good feel for his magic down. Ever since he'd agreed to become Celestia's personal arms trainer things had become much more complicated than being a simple Praetorian; the task of coming up with a training regimen for the Princess of Equestria was a daunting task, and one that had fallen squarely on his shoulders. He relished his position all the same as a chance to prove himself and further his career.

"Come now, Princess, we all had to start somewhere. Learning the trade of lethal defense is not something that can be learned in a day. It takes blood, sweat and tears. Hopefully we can stick to the sweat part and avoid the others."

"If only it had been that easy when I was in training," Tercio added.

"No kidding. Anyway, I believe this is a perfect time for a break. We'll resume shortly, so get your water in while you have the chance. Stonewall, if you would come with me?"

Stonewall nodded and took a place beside Polaris, and together they left through the grand entrance doors with talk of combat details darting between them. Now without someone to watch his every move, Tercio leaned against a carved pillar and eased himself to a sitting position with a sigh of relief, resting his head against the polished marble and letting his sword's pommel clatter against the tile.

"To be eighteen again," he said aloud with a bemused laugh. "I am not getting any younger, or so my body keeps insisting."

Celestia brought over a pair of glasses that bobbed in a shimmering cloud of magic, filled nearly to the top with orange-flavored water.

"When you get to be four hundred years old you can complain about your age."

Tercio grabbed one of the glasses and lifted it in thanks.

"At this rate I'll be lucky to make it to forty."

"I'm surprised I haven't dropped dead from exertion from Polaris' teaching methods, so consider yourself blessed, my friend." Celestia tugged at her jeweled breast collar that had long since become uncomfortable. Sweat had made it chafe something fierce, much to her annoyance. A pink cushion levitated over and she took a welcomed seat next to Equestria's resident human-turned-sparring partner who was still recovering from the great effort that combat, even training, required.

"You do well," he said cheerfully despite his exhaustion. "Polaris' methods may be demanding but I have already seen a marked improvement in your performance; I used to be able to best you without effort. Now I have to pay attention as if I was fighting for my very life. You've even out-fought me a few times! Soon I will have to rely on you for protection, instead of the other way around."

Celestia laughed, then drank from her glass until it was nearly empty.

"I will gladly change you places if you take this ornamental pain in the neck. Remind me to drop the breast collar before engaging in combat." A pitcher of citrus water levitated before them, and she refilled their glasses. "I have not had a chance to speak with you in a few days. How have you been?"

"I cannot complain, really. We've been so busy that I've hardly had time to think about, well...her. I should call that good fortune."

"Do you still believe you made the right choice?"

He nodded. "I do. That first night after the party, I felt so damned angry. Admitting all of it to you was the best thing I could have done. When you later said that she had admitted to what she'd done, and asked me how I wanted to proceed, I wasn't sure what to say. Perhaps I've grown soft in my years, or maybe I remember what it's like to be so sure the world could do you no wrong."

"You surprised yourself, didn't you? I could tell."

"I suppose I did. I thought about it for a long time. I asked myself, 'could I really ruin this young mare's life?' In the end I realized that no, I could not. Distasteful and misguided though her actions were, I could not very well see her banished. She has much to learn about the real world. Perhaps now she realizes that."

"Sapphire is no longer welcome in the castle, at least. You won't have to worry about running into her again. She's also volunteered to donate the entire earnings from her next tour to the Equestrian treasury on my word that it will be used to buy food and supplies for our soldiers. The latter, I think, was less of a gesture of generosity and more of an attempt to make an apology in the only real way she knew how."

"She could have apologized to me personally," Tercio grumbled.

"She still might, but pride is a strange thing. She is ashamed of how she's acted. This is her attempt at correcting that, small start though it may be."

"'Everyone deserves a second chance,' eh? I guess all of that talk of mercy and acceptance in your speeches has rubbed off on me."

Celestia smiled warmly. "It's one of our founding pillars, after all, and actions speak louder than words."

"As you say. Truthfully, I am glad to be done with it; I can return to focusing on the important things, rather than some misguided mare's attempts at one-sided romance."

"Like...?"

"Like, oh...not getting shown up by the Princess in single combat?"

"I don't think you need to worry about that too much, Tercio," she laughed in amusement. "I must look like a foal flailing her legs about compared to you, or really any of the Praetorians."

"Come now, you've improved a great deal! It's a wonder I can keep fighting for so long against you, really. You're stronger than you know. Consider yourself lucky: not everyone can be gifted with great beauty and great prowess."

Celestia smiled and put a dramatic hoof over her chest.

"Sir Tercio, flattery will get you nowhere."

"Oh I don't know," he replied, standing back up with a grunt, "it's gotten me this far. If flattery means less sword strikes to watch out for, then you'd best prepare yourself for an onslaught of compliments."

With a stretch of her wings Celestia returned to her hooves, working out the kinks in her neck that had developed from the weight of the twin swords tugging at her. For a time she studied Tercio with an inquisitive eye, watching him practice a few strikes with his weapon and readjust his armor's various straps and fittings. She enjoyed his company the more she knew of him, though she couldn't quite pin down why.

The creaking of the throne room's double doors echoed loudly, drawing her attention back to the moment.

"Looks like we're ready to go, Princess," Tercio said with an amused look. "Do try to avoid falling on your own blades."

Celestia slid the twin swords from their sheathes and flashed a wry grin.

"If I didn't know any better, Sir Tercio, I'd say that's a challenge."

"More of a challenge than you'll be?"

She took a ready stance and levitated her weapons before her, peering between the sharpened blades.

"We'll just see about that."

Getting away from Canterlot was a rare treat in the Praetorian Guard, unless one happened to be part of the pegasus retinue that pulled Celestia's royal sky carriage. Doubly so when it meant visiting somewhere new. For Tercio, getting picked to be part of the Princess' official escort meant a trip to the distant eastern shore of Equestria's borders, a place called Wither Shoals that hugged the coast of the Sea of Lights, famous for its white cliffs and colorful scenery.

He and seven others had arrived mid-day in a pair of sky wagons that had taken up flanking positions alongside the royal carriage, and from his seat he was able to appreciate the beauty and grandeur of a place he'd never seen -- air sickness not withstanding. The towering mountains of central Equestria had given way to endless forests of red, yellow and orange trees, and the vast, endless waters of the sea stretched out to the horizon in shimmering, cool waves of deep blue.

The others had rumored that the eastern expanses were suffering from decreased trade with the nation-state of Zevran across the ocean, and, as such, were throwing a fit about not getting the supplies they expected.

"It can never be bandits or deer raiding parties," one of the others had said, "it's always trade disagreements or political tripe."

Tercio reminded the young Praetorian about the attack on the castle grounds. It was not an experience he was eager to repeat.

The trip had its perks, of course. Whatever their view on the current situation, the trade guilds were still as awed by Celestia's presence as anyone else, and that translated to piles of gourmet food and extravagent gifts for all involved. Tercio himself ended up with a carved trinket made of ironbark dotted with tiny rubies; a stylized image of B'wu'ale, the zebra spirit-god of prosperity and bountiful harvests. He later regretted not being more thankful for the gift, but eating enough food to kill a manticore had made him concerned more with rest than gifts.

As escort duties went, it was relatively uneventful. Even the town of Swiftwing had broken out into politicos bickering back and forth for several hours. But Wither Shoals? It was practically a paid retreat.

The Praetorians made camp half a mile inland, setting up their large tent where a thick copse of trees met the rocky outflow of a narrow river that spilled into the ocean. The season had conspired to turn markedly cold, but not unbearably so. Thankfully, the requisition officer had seen fit to give them all suitable winter clothing, and Tercio and his companions remained relatively comfortable during their hours spent at Celestia's side or on guard at the camp site.

Night fell without incident and the Praetorians prepped their bonfire, stacking chopped wood so that the stallion on duty could simply toss a log onto the flames. Standing beside it and rubbing his hands for warmth, Tercio looked forward to curling up in his bed roll and getting a good night's rest -- or at least as much as he could until his shift started. He looked to the horizon to try and judge the time, but the moon was hidden by obscuring clouds. He hoped the others would wake him up at the appropriate time.

The fire crackled and popped as he stirred the coals. Behind him he could hear several of the stallions laughing over some tale or other, but he was content to stand near the warmth and comfort provided by the flickering flames. He'd always found them to be relaxing, a reminder of many nights spent out in the fields with his father and brother as they'd watched the stars rise. He sighed, wishing he could visit them again. Time away from the military was hard to come by.

The distinctive flapping of wings and the sound of a someone landing on the hard-packed earth turned him around just in time to see Princess Celestia folding her wings in, a pair of gold-clad pegasus guards at her side. She dismissed them with a few words and was soon surrounded by Praetorians eager to talk about the day's events. Ever the compassionate leader, the princess spent the better part of half an hour chatting and laughing with her soldiers over hot cups of tea and small treats left for the Praetorians by the locals. Tercio sat off to one side with Rimeberry and simply listened, making idle conversation with the big earth pony as he wrote a letter to his sister in the north.

Tercio was nearly ready to turn in for the night when Celestia approached him. An embroidered saddle bag around her waist filled with gifts bobbed as she came over, and he and Rimeberry saluted and bowed their heads in respect.

"Good evening Tercio, Rimeberry. How fares your night?"

"Uneventful, just the way I like it," Rime answered, tucking his helm against his side.

"Similarly, I cannot complain," Tercio added. "And you, Princess?"

"I am well, thank you, though somewhat tired by the process of negotiations. You'd think I would be used to it after so long." She briefly adjusted the fitting of her long, gilded robes that doubled as formal winter clothing.

"I would have given up a long time ago. You couldn't pay me enough to stand around and mingle with self-important ponies for hours on end." Rime shook his head. "I don't know how you do it, Princess."

"Mostly by day-dreaming," she joked. "I saw you both didn't join in with the rest of the Praetorians. Is something the matter?"

"Not in the least. Sometimes you just need to have a little peace and quiet when you write. I hope there was no offense taken, Your Highness."

"Of course not. I can understand the value of privacy more than most." She looked at Tercio. "I assume you would say the same?"

"Sort of," he replied. "I've been surrounded by stallions all day. Call it a break. Current company not withstanding."

"What, I don't qualify as a stallion?" Rimeberry asked mockingly.

"Well you do look quite good in a dress, my friend."

"We were supposed to keep that between us."

Celestia laughed with them, then reached into one of the many pockets of her saddle bags, floating out a scroll wrapped in green ribbon.

"I'd nearly forgotten: I have something for you, Decanus Rimeberry."

"You do? Is that from who I think it is?" His eyes seemed to light up in recognition.

"See for yourself."

He snatched the scroll from the air and quickly unfurled it, quickly skimming through what Tercio assumed was a letter of some kind. Whatever it was, it made Rimeberry break out into a broad smile.

"It's from my brother, out in Marestopholous! His wife gave birth during the last full moon! I'm...I'm an uncle!"

Tercio clapped a hand on Rime's shoulder and offered heartfelt congratulations to his friend and compatriot, who was nearly in a state of gleeful shock.

"That's wonderful news," Celestia said. "Congratulations, Rimeberry."

"T-Thank you, Princess! I wasn't expecting such a thing. We'd all thought his wife unable to bear foals; this is truly a blessing from the gods!" The commotion from the usually quiet and soft-spoken stallion had drawn numerous looks of curiosity from the others. Rimeberry waved at them and lifted the scroll, shouting about his new-found family member. They cheered and called for him to come over and celebrate.

"I, uh, think they want me to join them," he said to Celestia with a chuckle. She smiled back.

"By all means, my friend. Enjoy yourself, and congratulations once more."

"Thank you, Princess!" He nudged Tercio's shoulder. "I'm sure it won't be as grand as the party you put on, but hell, come on over."

"I will," Tercio nodded. "Give me a bit."

"Sure thing!"

With that, Rimeberry galloped over to the other Praetorians and was immediately surrounded. Celestia laughed quietly at the celebration and turned her attention to Tercio. The warm, brown furs of his winter clothing stuck out from between the gaps in his armor, leaving only his hands and head exposed to the elements. He looked impressive, she decided, with his tall figure and shining steel armor cutting a respectable silhouette against the night. The tailors had done well with his unique form.

"I hope," he said, nodding in Rimeberry's direction, "that one day that will be me. Mother is always bothering Victus and I for not having any foals of our own -- I likely cannot be a father, as I've explained to her many times, but I would be happy with being an uncle." He shook his head and laughed. "Perhaps mother was right, and I should tell Victus to hurry up and drop the Legionary bit and find a suitable mare."

"I'm sure you'd be a wonderful uncle," Celestia said. She noticed Tercio was studying her, and she cocked her head in curiosity. "What is it?"

"You came here to speak with me, didn't you?" he asked. "I can tell, you have that look about you."

"It's that obvious, is it? I swear, you know me too well."

"I'd say I don't know you well enough! But I enjoy our conversations, so you're in luck."

Celestia pointed toward the ocean. "Come, I won't keep you long."

"As you say, Princess." Tercio took his place beside her, tucking his hands into his pockets for warmth. They followed the river bank over fields of smooth pebbles, stepping around larger boulders in their path. "Quite a beautiful night, isn't it? I have never seen the moon rising over the ocean. For that matter, I've never seen the ocean before today. It's so...large."

Celestia giggled. "It's something, isn't it? Long ago, my family used to take trips out this way during the summer months. We would watch my father paint the sky with countless stars, only retiring for the night when the moon was high above the water."

"That sounds lovely. It's a shame I could not meet him."

"I think you would have liked him...after he got over the fact that you were so different."

It didn't take long to reach the white, sandy shore of the Sea of Lights. Tercio paused to take it all in: the moon peeking between the clouds, casting a shining streak of soft light over the dark, pristine waters. The gentle waves that lapped at his marching sandals and crawled up the shore in foaming babbles before receding into the vast, endless expanse. The fresh, salty air that filled his lungs, cool and wet and invigorating. In the distance, lone spires of rock jutted from the sea floor, where larger waves broke against their bulk in roaring sprays.

"In all my life, I never imagined I would visit a place like this. Between the frozen north and the eastern sea, I've seen more of Equestria in a few months than I have in all of my years prior."

"Another perk of being a Praetorian?"

"Without a doubt," he smiled. "Now I understand why some of my father's friends spent nearly their entire lives at sea. It's hard to put into words what it's like to behold it for the first time. It's..."

"Enchanting?" Celestia offered.

"Enchanting. Well said."

She stepped to the edge of the water, kicking at a wave with a golden shoe.

"Do you know why they call it the Sea of Lights?"

Tercio shook his head. "I cannot say I do."

"Watch." Focusing on a fist-sized, smooth stone, Celestia levitated it before her and tossed it out into the water. It landed with a quiet splash. Tercio looked her, puzzled. "Just wait, and watch."

A few seconds passed, and from the ripples in the water a soft glow began to spread outward, growing brighter in the center until rays of light pierced the surface. They danced over the waves, otherwordly yellows and greens, before slowly returning to the glassy darkness.

"I have never seen such a thing," he said, awestruck.

"Countless tiny creatures come to the surface at night and glow with their own luminescence. Imagine being on a boat and seeing your wake light up like a thousand candles. That is why it's referred to as the Sea of Lights."

Tercio picked up a rock and chucked it into the water, smiling as the splash was followed by a dazzling display.

"Victus is never going to believe this."

Celestia began to walk down the shore, her armored hooves crunching through the sand and stones. Tercio followed suit, entertaining himself by tossing several more rocks into the breaking waves.

"Is this why you asked me to join your escort this morn? So that I could gaze upon the sea?"

"Partly," Celestia answered. "I am glad you're enjoying your time here, but there is something else."

"Yes?"

She paused to consider how to ask the question that had been on her mind for some time.

"A few nights ago -- when we walked the palace gardens and you soon after told me about Sapphire's rather misguided attempts at seducing you -- you mentioned that something had helped jar your mind and defeat the influence of her aphrodisiac. Do you remember what that was?"

Tercio looked over. "Of course I do: it was you."

Some small part of her had hoped she'd simply misunderstood. It would have been simpler.

"And you're sure of this?"

"There is not a doubt in my mind, Princess. I would not make such a claim lightly."

Not sure how to feel, Celestia simply looked straight ahead.

"I see..."

An uneasy silence hung in the air as they walked. Tercio was the first to speak up again.

"I realize that saying such a thing could be construed as unprofessional, but...when I'm with you, when I'm in your presence, I feel this sense of calm and comfort that I cannot properly put into words." He glanced over, seeing Celestia looking back at him. "All my life I have felt like a stranger in my own land. I have had to fight tooth and nail to earn my position in the military, to be accepted by the others as more than just some 'monster' or 'freak', as I've heard time and again. Nearly everyone views me, or has viewed me, as nothing more than a curiosity. But when I met you that day, in the throne room, I felt none of the hostility I am so used to. Only warmth and caring. And then, after the attack, when you invited me to that wonderful dinner, I got to know you as more than just 'The Princess'".

"It was a very enjoyable night," Celestia said.

"That it was. For so long I'd dreamt of meeting you, and when I had the chance to get to know you, I found that what was there, what was inside of you, was something beautiful. You were not just the ruler of Equestria anymore; you were Celestia, just as capable of laughter and sorrow as any of us."

He idly kicked at a rock, sending it tumbling through the sand.

"You've become somewhat of my anchor to this world. When I look at you now I feel a connection I have not felt with anyone else. Perhaps it is the fact that we live such different lives from those around us."

They stopped, and Tercio stood before her. Staring into her pink eyes, the moonlight reflected in her gaze, he would not have wished to be anywhere else. He feared he was being too forward, that he would push her away with his sudden confession of how he felt, but he had already begun to bear his heart and soul. Turning back now would be worse than continuing.

"I...I know it is unusual, even unheard of, to admit such a thing, but it is the truth. The thought of never being near you again was too much for me to bear. I know I have only known you for a scant few months, but in that time I have developed a fondness for you that I cannot deny."

Celestia lifted a surprised foreleg and gasped. Her hunch had been true after all.

"That day that Sapphire believed I was drawn to her? She could not have been further from the truth. I was distracted by you, by the very thought of you. You occupied my every waking moment, and not even sparring with the others could stop me eyes from wandering up to you." He placed a hand on her chest, felt the soft material of her robes, heard his heart pounding in his ears. "If it is inappropriate for me to admit these things, then I will go no further. But it had to be said, Princess. I do not care about Sapphire, and I never did. I care about you."

The weight of his confession took to her mind and her chest; for a brief moment in time she found it difficult to breathe, and her head swam with the echoes of his words. She'd been correct, completely and utterly.

"Tercio, I'm...I'm not sure--"

"I know this is sudden, Celestia, but I cannot think of a better place to tell you. I have thought about it for many a sleepless night and many more a sleepless shift. I know it's an absurd notion, but I have too many regrets in life already to spend the rest of it wondering what would have happened if I'd just told you."

Celestia placed a hoof on his hand. "I don't know what to say..."

"You feel it too, don't you?" he asked hopefully. "I see in the way you carry yourself, in how we get along wonderfully even though we are so different. I am drawn to your smile like a candle in the night. You...you give me something to hold on to, even when I am on the edge of losing myself." A nervous laugh parted his lips. " I have not felt this way about anyone in many years. To think that I would feel so strongly about my princess, my most superior officer, a mare most people have never even met and speak about in rumor...well, I may be overstepping my bounds, but such a thing seems nearly an untouchable dream."

It would have been nearly impossible for Celestia to state what she felt at that moment in time, and she searched for the words for long seconds before answering.

"I would be lying if I said I didn't feel some tangible connection between us, but you must understand that this is a very complicated situation. You are one of my soldiers. You are tasked with giving your life for me if necessary. Even if we were together, imagine if word of it got out."

"What, word of your relationship with someone who cares for you deeply? I would not be ashamed. Let them think what they want. If you're concerned, I give you my word that I can be discreet."

Celestia pulled back, her eyes glistening.

"It's not that simple, Tercio."

"Nothing worth fighting for is, Princess."

She turned to dry her eyes, looking out over the ocean as a thousand thoughts and emotions flitted through her.

"I think you're very sweet for saying such things, and I have indeed enjoyed getting to know you, but this...this is not something I can give a definitive yes or no to. Not right now."

Dejected, Tercio stood with his hands behind his back, casting his gaze at the rocky shore. He still clung to hope; after all, she hadn't turned him down, not entirely. It was, he knew, a lot to think about, made all the more complicated by everything a mare in her position of power had to deal with already.

"Do not think me callous or uncaring," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "Please, just...give me time to think on it."

Taking a deep breath, Tercio gained back a small degree of confidence.

"I have waited thirty-two years to find myself here. I would gladly wait another thirty-two to be with you if I must."

Celestia felt his words touch her heart, felt them tug at her and threaten to let him see the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

"I...I really must get back to my quarters." Her great wings unfurled and she took to the sky, hovering in place just above him. "Have a good night, Sir Tercio," she said with a voice barely above a whisper.

Tercio saw her silhouetted against the soft glow of the half-moon, finding her beautiful even as his chest weighed heavily with hope and dread and sadness. "And you as well, Princess Celestia."

She hesitated for a few seconds, and Tercio watched her leave until she disappeared behind the tall, autumn-tinted trees of the nearby forest. For a long time he stood at the water's edge, feeling the cold water lap at his feet. The glow of the camp's bonfire stuck out like a beacon in the night as he regretfully started his trek back, his thoughts occupied, as they were so often as of late, by the thought of her. He hardly heard a word the others said as he entered the camp, and as he removed his winter clothing and pulled himself into his sleeping roll he knew there would be little sleep to be had that night.

From her large, personal tent tucked into the edge of the forest Celestia watched the distant ocean, her hot cup of tea hardly doing a thing to help her relax. By candle light she saw herself in a mirror; she hardly looked, or felt, like the most powerful mare in the known world. The others had seen it, her pegasus guards and her personal assistant, and she had lied and said she was simply tired from the day's events. They would not pry, and for that she was thankful.

Mentally and emotionally exhausted, she began to drift off to sleep. On the edge of consciousness she saw her, the dark-coated mare standing at the foot of her map table. The image of shadow and mist twisted and swirled, coherent yet incorporeal.

"How far Big Sister has fallen." A voice, feminine but harsh, came from all around her.

Celestia shut her eyes and willed the mockery of her sister to be gone, to vanish back to the dark recesses it had come from.

"You knew it to be true, and yet...and yet you denied it."

"I will not be part of your game, not tonight," Celestia whispered, hoping to convince herself. "Leave me be, Luna."

The figure vanished, then reappeared beside her wearing a bent, fire-charred crown and breast collar, flashing a predatory smile.

"Oh, but he loves you, Celestia."

Tercio's silhouette stood beside Luna, and it gazed upon her with empty eyes.

"You may lie to yourself, but never to me. We are one and the same, you and I. Your heart yearns for his embrace and calls out for the first stirrings of love to grace your soul in centuries. Perhaps...yes, there it is. You can feel it, can't you? That black thought that twists and coils inside of you. You remember, and it terrifies you."

Nightmare Moon, Luna, the shadow of Celestia's own thoughts, laughed quietly in her ear. The form of Tercio swirled into a shimmering cloud, then reformed in an instant as the embraced, intertwined shapes of himself and Celestia, her head thrown back in a moment of ecstasy frozen in time. Tercio's shadow pulled a dagger from the mist and held it above her neck.

"Luna, stop this, please..."

"You know...and yet, you still long for him. You fear him, but you fear for him even more. Whose life will you see run to ruin by your machinations? Yours..." The human's shadow plunged the blade deep, and in the blink of an eye held its own beating heart in its hand. "...or his?"

Celestia clapped her hooves over her ears and shut her eyes tight.

"He is a good man. He is a good man! You are nothing but a twisted shell of the sister I loved and cared for!"

"Your love is toxic. A venom that destroys all you touch from the inside. You will see, sister. You will see that I was right..."

"I will not! I will not!"

A shrill, terrible shriek filled Celestia's ears and grew louder until it threatened to drive her to madness, and then...it was gone. She opened her eyes, tears staining her coat and running down her face, and she fell on her cushions and sobbed herself to sleep.

23 - Uncertain Times and Distant Hopes

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."

24 - A Lifetime in a Single Moment

There were not many who in Equestria's history who could claim to have served in every branch of the military, and fewer still who had lived to tell about it. It was good, then, that Legatus Cestus considered himself to be blessed with luck. A veteran of the tribal skirmishes and numerous other small conflicts, Cestus had spent time in the Equestrian Guard, Royal Guard, Praetorian Guard, and the Legion, each time picking up new skills and points of view. Presently, he served as the advisor to Princess Celestia on all troop movements to and from the area around Canterlot.

Celestia had always liked the old stallion, even from his days as a rank-and-file soldier. Time had not been kind to his features -- his once brilliant orange mane had faded to an off-white color, and his wings could hardly carry him more than a few hundred yards at a time -- but his sharp mind had maintained its edge. The princess was thankful for his company as they both surveyed a large map of Equestria and eastern Whitetail, where dozens of unit markers denoted the various cohorts that had fought the Whitetail all the way back to their capitol.

"Looks like the deerfolk are regretting their aggression," Cestus said. He knocked a hoof on the map, speaking confidently. "Kar'nodaan, Pilynquaas, Caeniila...and now, Quillyyn. If I didn't know any better I'd say the whitetail are letting us have their land. Not that I'd complain. I hear Whitetail forest is a great place to visit if you're looking for crippling depression and torrential rain. Oh, and monsters. Can't forget them."

Celestia had only heard part of his boast, busily reading through a scroll that had arrived earlier in the day from General Phalanx. Attached to the scroll were several notes on casualty statistics and requests to unit commanders for further goods and reinforcements. The sheer number of wounded and dead over the last four months was never something she could fully come to terms with, though she despised the fact that she had, against her will, become somewhat used to the reports. Good Equestrian citizens were becoming statistics. She wished she could mourn them, but every time she glanced at the numbers she simply felt numb.

It had not all been bad news, thankfully. Promised supplies from Zevran and Skytalon were finally arriving, and Phalanx had assured her that Quillyyn Keep had fallen, which left the nation of Whitetail with a very small number of options. She was hopeful for peace, but fearful of razing Evinwiir. It was, truth be told, not something she had considered to any real degree. Removing the senate and chancellor from power would have made her a conqueror, an expansionist no better than the Cervidaens of old. And yet, she had not heard from the Whitetail chancellor for nearly three months. If only there was some way...

"...elements of the 18th Legion and 108th Guard could be sent in shortly. What do you think?"

Celestia blinked, finding Cestus staring at her inquisitively.

"I'm sorry, Legatus. Could you say that again? I was distracted."

"Reinforcements, Your Highness. General Phalanx is asking for reinforcements so that he may send his veteran soldiers back to their families for a time. I will need to speak with the garrison commanders in the area but I believe we can do so without compromising our strength in the west. Believe me when I say that time away from the battlefield is worth its weight in gold."

"Right, morale," she said, forcing herself to focus. "Pass word to the local commanders that they are to draw up a list of able-bodied stallions to send to the front. We will need cooks, apothecaries, supply runners, smithies, whatever they can spare. All convoys will need to pack two weeks worth of provisions, in the event of inclement weather. Once they arrive, they should...should..."

She put a hoof to her head and sighed.

"Princess?"

"Why won't they just surrender?" she asked, exasperated and annoyed. "The whitetail, I mean. Are they really so eager to see their civilization fall? Or are they counting on us not attacking?"

"I cannot begin to speak for the whitetail or their military."

"Neither can their chancellor, apparently. Am I so wrong for not wanting to burn Evinwiir to the ground, Cestus? The last thing I want to be seen as is a tyrant or some sort of...conquering empress. The days of Equestria's expansion by blade are long gone."

"Yet the other nations are watching this war with interest. We cannot afford to be appear weak, Princess. Though, in fairness, I understand your point of view. Personally I would bombard the city's fortifications with a prolonged campaign of siege. It would take months, perhaps years, but it would whittle their resources to nothing. They would be forced to surrender by way of our cutting off their supplies."

Celestia lifted a unit emblem from the table, floating it before her. The carved, gleaming obsidian figure of a crested Legion helm bobbed as she turned it round, its surface catching the room's warm torch light.

"I won't commit to such an attack. I can't, Cestus. It goes counter to everything we stand for."

The old stallion sighed. "Ultimately it's your word, Princess, not mine, that decides the fate of Whitetail. I can only advise that we do not tarry. Give the stallions some time home, sure. Rebuild our strength in the west, certainly. But it will be the dead of winter before long, and the only thing worse than attacking a fortified position is attacking it with snow up to your chest. If the deer have the entire winter to rebuild, well..."

"I understand," Celestia answered. "I still hold out hope that Chancellor Vinawyll wishes for an end to hostilities. If I can persuade Cervidae or Skytalon to join me in convincing the whitetail and their leaders..." She shook her head. "I need time. I will not give up the dream of peace so easily."

"As you wish. For now I will relay your message to the others in and around Canterlot. Word should spread to our secondary outposts within the week." Cestus snapped off a crisp salute, his green veteran cloak flowing with the motion. "Do not hesitate to call on me any time you wish my input."

Celestia bowed her head in respect, hearing him turn and trot across the room. He stopped and motioned to the map table with a tip of his head.

"I think you're a kind soul, Princess, and I think you truly believe in the principles set out by King Argo and Queen Aurora. They say history is not written in kind words, and I'm inclined to believe it. But I hope you can prove them wrong."

"Mail call! You know the deal, everyone gather 'round so I don't have to yell."

Fifty Praetorians from First and Third Barracks quickly formed a semi-circle around Imperator Stonewall. There was an excitement in the air, and for good reason: for the first time in months there was a chance of returning home for a time. It had started with the front lines and moved east from there, word of Equestria's repeated victories spreading like wildfire along with the hope of seeing family again. Some of the veteran Praetorians already lived in Canterlot, and for them it meant a welcome break from palace duty.

Tercio hoped his name was among those called for the first wave of leave. Seeing his parents -- and hopefully his brother -- was a wonderful thought, especially with Equestria's biggest holiday, Hearth's Warming, coming up at the end of the month.

"As soon as I get back, I'm gonna knock on this pretty little mare's door and do a little catching up," a newer pegasus inductee, Cloudtop, said to anyone who would listen.

"There are worse ways to be welcomed home," Rimeberry added.

"What about you, Rime?" Tercio asked. The big earth pony lifted an upturned hoof in a shrug.

"Probably check in on my nephew and his vineyard. It's almost the right weather for ice wine, and the kid's still pretty new at it."

"Bring back a bottle for me, won't you? If I have to hear you describe its taste again I'm going to go mad."

Rimeberry smirked. "I'll try to remember the ugly human and his requests. No promises, though."

"All I can ask."

Stonewall stomped his wooden foreleg on the floor.

"Right, quiet down. There's a few things to cover. Let's see..." He flipped through pages of scrolls, mumbling to himself as he read the missives from around Canterlot. "When your name is called step over to the right, there's a table set up for all this shit. I have mail for...Thunderburst, Olive Branch, Nightowl, Perantius, Acasius, Evergreen, Golden Wheat, Cloudtop, Cloudswirl, Silver Cloud..."

He looked up from his list and cocked an eyebrow.

"What is it with you pegasi and clouds, exactly? Anyway...Oriscio, Snowcap, Aether Weave aaaand Amistorum. You all received scrolls today. Rimeberry and Hammer Haft, there's a package for each of you. Sign off with the quartermaster and you're good. That's all for now."

"What about our leave?" someone asked, others echoing him.

"You'll get it soon enough. Rear echelon units like ourselves have low priority, but you should be home in time for the holiday, or close to it. And no bitching! Else you might find yourself at the bottom of that list. Dismissed!"

The crowd slowly drifted apart with a general murmuring of commotion. Tercio was disappointed to not have anything from home, but it had only been a few days since the last letter. At least he could write something back to occupy his time.

"Not you, Krosus," Stonewall said, getting the human's attention.

"Sir?"

"I've got something I was told to deliver to you personally. Royal stamp and everything." He passed the wrapped scroll and waited for Tercio to open it. "Who the hell'd you piss off now? Don't tell me they assigned you to kitchen duty."

"Not quite..." Tercio answered, reading over the scroll. "It would appear the Princess has requested my presence this evening. She says it is 'of a matter of the utmost importance'..."

"Huh. Sounds serious. Surprised I haven't heard about it, come to think of it."

Tercio could guess what it was. The missive didn't sound particularly encouraging. He felt his spirits drop even as he re-read the words a second time, then a third.

"A...a personal matter, most likely," he managed to say without letting his worry come through.

"Right, right, none of my business. I'll leave you to it, then." Stonewall promptly trotted off, then called back over his shoulder. "And don't forget about your leadership course! You've got two hours to prepare!"

Compared to the inevitability of seeing Celestia for the first time in over a week, a training class seemed incredibly unimportant. Still, they paid him to be a soldier, not to think about the outcome of ill-timed confessions. He'd do what he had to, and the rest was up to fate.

Canterlot's Castle's largest spire held much significance to the nation of Equestria, built in a time of upheaval and uncertainty when the three races were still feuding among themselves. The time of Unity had not been free of conflict.

These days, the great spire served as a way to look back upon the past through the many frescoes, paintings, artifacts and stained glass windows that adorned its walls and arched ceiling. To Princess Celestia it was a source of memories that no ponies currently alive could ever hope to imagine in detail.

One area of the tower in particular had become a favorite of hers, a hanging platform that jutted off from the side three-quarters of the way up. The view it provided was unparalleled, and she often took her meals there in an effort to re-center herself and focus on the day's trials to come.

And, of course, it was the place she'd first had dinner with Tercio. Though it had only been a few short months, the casual attitude of that night now seemed so very distant.

As the wind played through her mane and caressed her skin with cold gusts of an early winter's eve, her silken dress trailing behind her like water over a stone, she waited nervously for him to stand before her once more. Tercio, the steadfast soldier who had worked his way through the ranks with his own skill and dedication. The human who had always been looked upon as a bizarre outcast, a curiosity. And now he had admitted to falling for the most powerful, sought-after mare in Equestria.

She had to laugh, despite herself. It was such an unlikely story. Had it not happened to her personally she might have dismissed it as rumor and rhetoric. Her amused smile quickly faded as the reality of her situation came rumbling back like a thunderclap. Long minutes passed, each feeling more drawn out than the last, until finally she heard the twin doors open behind her.

"Princess, Sir Tercio Krosus is here to see you," her aide said in a polite, formal tone. Celestia smiled and thanked her.

Dressed in his formal tunic and draped in his toga, Tercio saluted with a fist over his chest and bowed slightly. Warmer layers of cotton underclothing peeked out from his tunic, insulation against the cold.

"Good evening, Celestia," he said. If he was nervous or unsure of himself he did not show it. Perhaps, Celestia thought, his time around her had taught him a few things about appearances.

"Good evening, Tercio," she replied. "How have you been?"

"I have been well, thank you. And yourself?"

"As well as can be expected in such busy times."

She hesitated before continuing -- it was so formal, so uncomfortable compared to the last time they had spoken. She knew neither of them wanted to be the first to say anything about their possible feelings for each other, but she could not simply come out and say so.

"Will you sit with me?" she asked, motioning to a row of cushions that sat next to a low table. A small bowl of fruit and a few glasses with flavored water had been prepared for her by the kitchen, but she hardly felt like touching either of them.

"Of course."

Tercio waited for her to seat herself, then took his place beside her. They sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like a long time, staring at the near-by mountain range that was gradually being dusted with the season's first snows.

"Do you have any news?" Celestia asked, hoping to break the ice. "Any word from family and friends?"

"No more than I've heard from others. There is hope of being sent home for a time, though understandably those on the front lines get priority. I do not mind waiting, but I do wish I could be home at the same time as Victus. I can only imagine what he's gone through since the war started. His unit has been on the forefront of the battlefield since the first engagement."

"I will see what I can do," she said. Whatever the night may bring, she still prided herself on taking care of her Praetorians to the best of her abilities. Arranging for some time with his brother and parents might be just what Tercio needed.

"Thank you." Tercio cleared his throat nervously. "You seem to have been quite busy since Wither Shoals. I trust everything is alright?"

"In Canterlot? Yes. But across the border it's...complicated. Even as the war reaches its inevitable end I find myself wishing for a simpler way to cease hostilities once and for all. Those in power in Whitetail refuse to speak with me, even after repeated requests. Perhaps they truly believe me a tyrant after all."

"Then they are fools," Tercio added quickly. "I have heard the rumors: you have not sacked Evinwiir, despite having the capability to do so. A tyrant would not refuse to slaughter civilians in their homes, to burn them to the ground. That is not our way."

"I'm glad you still believe." She managed a light smile and said, "I have others in the military saying I must take action, and take it now. To them, ideals take a secondary position to victory."

Tercio shrugged. "I am not a leader of armies, Princess. I can only speak on behalf of myself and those I serve with."

"And what do they say? What do they think I should do?"

"Some are split, but most have stopped viewing the deer as evil some time ago. The whitetail are simply our enemies in a time of war. If you want evil -- true, shameless evil -- then one needs look no further than the followers of Nightmare Moon. Murder, slavery, destruction...the stories I hear are disturbing, to say the least."

"I know. Believe me, I know all too well." Celestia dipped her head in shame. "Every time we find another camp set up to honor Luna's twisted, fallen persona, or come across another settlement burned to the ground, I relive that horrible night. Once Whitetail has surrendered we can finally turn our attention fully to disbanding those who taint the good memory of my sister. I do not know if she has a hoof in guiding them herself, or if they merely follow some twisted ideology, but I will find out, and I will put an end to it."

Tercio reached for a glass, his throat parched and his mouth dry from worry. Did she actually call upon him to discuss strategy?

"So...what will you do when this is all over?" he asked, trying to tilt the conversation just a bit in his favor. "After Whitetail has surrendered and the cults no longer pose a threat?"

Celestia thought for a moment before answering.

"I imagine life will resume as it always has. My duties as Princess do not cease just because a war has come to an end. There are always negotiations to partake in, dignitaries to entertain. I imagine our relations with Whitetail and its Cervidaen neighbors will be strained, but I am prepared for it. Or so I should hope." She faced him with the warmth of the crackling brazier reflecting in her eyes, its licking flames casting a soft glow on her formal outfit and crown, and Tercio found it hard to focus on his thoughts once more. "And what about you? What is in store for Centurion Tercio Krosus?"

"Honestly? I have not given it much thought. I may end up staying in the military until I retire; It's certainly a good posting, and I cannot complain about the pay..."

"But...?" she prodded.

Tercio looked at her and chuckled to himself. "But...I'm not sure if I can see myself being a crotchety old war horse like Stonewall or his ilk. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing but the deepest respect for the Imperator and everyone who continues to serve in their old age, but do I really want to be hefting a sword and shield for so long? I don't know. Not yet, at any rate." He looked out over the horizon -- somewhere out there, his home still waited. "It's funny...not long ago my father told me I would start to miss the simplicity and honest work of tending a field. After the attack on Canterlot, I am starting to think he may have been right."

"Parents usually are," Celestia quipped.

"So I've learned! It's just...I don't think I'm ready to give up being a Praetorian just yet. I have some good years left in me. Maybe one day I'll settle down with a mare I care for. Someone I enjoy being with. Whoever that might be."

An uneasy silence hung in the air. They both knew what the implication of his statement was.

"That sounds very nice," Celestia said quietly.

"It does..."

The gentle burning of firewood and the cold gales blowing in from the mountains were the only sounds between them once more. Celestia ventured a glance out of the corner of her eye, seeing Tercio staring into the distance. When she finally spoke it was in a hushed voice, barely louder than the wind.

"I assume you realize that I didn't call upon you to idly discuss the war, Tercio."

"I figured as much," he answered, turning back to her. Celestia felt herself shaking, her heart racing in her chest. She worried that the entirety of Equestria could see her and know her every thought. "Reading the summons filled me with both dread and elation. We have not spoken since Wither Shoals, and I thought...well, a lot of things. I feared you would never wish to speak with me again, that I had driven you away entirely."

Celestia frowned. "Do you think me so callous?"

"No, never. But I had no way of knowing. The mind creates the most terrible possibilities..."

"I'm sorry to have put you in such a position. I truly am."

Tercio gave a short, humorless laugh. "It is I who should apologize. Such a foolish thing to do, being so forward and confessing like a scared colt. As if the very ideas of tact and maturity have no bearing on my decisions."

All of the hours she had spent thinking of what to say, and how to say it, had been of no help. The more she considered her words the more they became a jumbled mess that refused to come to the surface. Instead, she steeled herself and asked the simplest question she could imagine.

"Tercio, do you...do you love me?"

She expected him to react with shock, or relief. But he only stared back at her, casting his gaze aside as he tried to answer.

"I think...I think 'love' is a very strong word, and I would hesitate use it just yet. Perhaps if I--"

"Please. I have to know. Call it a confession if you like, but tell me truthfully."

He inhaled deeply, his breath faltering.

"...yes."

Celestia felt a flood of emotions come over her like a cold wave. So many nights awake in her bed, so many countless minutes and hours wondering if it had been merely a momentary infatuation. Now there could be no doubt.

"I love you, Celestia. From the moment we met you have been in my thoughts, and no matter how absurd I knew it to be I always held onto this...this notion, this tiny ember of hope, that you might care the same about me."

He placed a hand to her chest, felt her heart beating just as fast as his own.

"Am I so wrong for it? Do you feel it as well?"

Slowly, she draped a foreleg over his arm, her eyes glimmering.

"...I do. I spent all this time wondering whether it was a mistake. I was so scared, Tercio. I worry about things that no one else in the world has to. I held onto painful memories and dreaded the thought of more, but I was wrong." She sniffed back the tears that ran down her cheeks and grasped his hands. "I feel it every time we speak. You understand me better than anyone else I have met in a very long time, and I always know that I can come to you with anything. I don't know if what we have between us is truly destined to be, but I am willing to try."

She caught her breath and looked into his familiar brown eyes, finding relief and joy and uncertainty that mirrored her own. In a way, it was comforting. It gave her the courage to continue as she finally said what she had been wanting to, the truth that had been hidden behind half-truths, for what felt like a very long time.

"I...I want to be with you, Tercio."

It was as if a great weight had been taken from her chest, and as she considered her confession she felt his hand lift her chin. She did not know what more to say, but found that, perhaps, she didn't have to say anything else at all. She caressed her cheek against his palm, her eyes locked with his, and slowly, and nervously, met him in a comforting kiss. For a few heartbeats nothing else mattered in the world, and she let herself become lost in the moment that had been so long in coming. She had finally bared her soul, and it was wonderful. Regretfully she pulled away, the moment passing far too quickly.

"You've no idea burden you've eased from my heart," Tercio said with a relieved smile. Celestia laughed with him, all of her stress finally finding an outlet. It felt...right. She placed her forehead against his and ran a hoof down his cheek.

"We'll make this work." She gently kissed his hand and smiled. "Somehow, we'll make this work. I promise."

They embraced each other lovingly, gently rocking with the gusting wind, and for the first night in many months they were free to think of nothing at all.

25 - Nocturne

Being in love with the most powerful mare in Equestria had its downsides. It was an unfortunate reality that a budding romance between a soldier and the Princess was something that, for the time being, had to be kept a secret. Tercio did not resent her for it, though he wished he could be more open around the others. In the week following their mutual admission of attraction he had not even told his own parents, much less the other guards or, gods forbid, Imperator Stonewall. Yet they still wished to see each other regularly, which meant that one unfortunate reality led to another in the form of increased night shifts. Only after the sun had set and most of the palace was asleep was he free to spend time with her.

Things had progressed slowly since the first night, something he did not mind. Celestia was a wonderful conversationalist who had no shortage of stories to tell from her many hundreds of years of experience, and he was always surprised and delighted when she enjoyed his own tales in return. Sometimes they would simply sit outside on her private balcony, wrapped in blankets, and enjoy the company of one another. She would lay her head against his shoulder and smile as he ran his fingers through her flowing mane, softer than any silk, and in those moments he truly felt at peace.

"It still does not feel real, like all of this is a dream," he said quietly, watching low clouds sweep in over the nearby mountains like a blanket of cotton against the dark, cold night.

"If this is a dream, then I do not wish to wake from it." Celestia smiled and gently kissed his cheek. It had been so long since she'd felt the warmth and joy of love, so long since the sensation of simply being with another made her head swim in a delightful fog of affection. It was intoxicating, brighter than any wine could ever hope to bring. "I feel foolish for waiting so long. I am supposed to be the steadfast leader of Equestria, always so sure of myself. Yet I denied my own feelings out of trepidation." She laughed to herself. "What would my mother say?"

"I would hope she would approve of me," Tercio said.

"I think she would. My father though...well, he was always very protective of his daughters."

"That is a father's job, after all. Mother spoils the children, and Father keeps them in line and disapproves of any potential romances. At least, that's how it was when I was growing up."

"I think your father and mine would have been great friends," she quipped.

"You're probably right. Though I think my father would be beaming with joy if he knew I was in a relationship with the Princess of the Sun herself. That, or he would have a heart attack in disbelief. One of the two."

"Good to know I can still be a status symbol after all these years," she said in a teasing tone.

"I prefer the term 'mare of social elevation'. Just think of the contacts I could make!"

"I know a very good jailer in the dungeon, perhaps I can get you two acquainted."

"Right, point taken," Tercio laughed. He laid his head against a cushion and let the cold, fresh air drift over him. "You know, after so long in the Guard I had almost forgotten what it is to have a truly casual moment with someone. Even when we were taking a meal or strolling through the garden there was a lingering sense of formality. I know it makes me a good soldier, but still...being here, with you, just like this? I haven't felt so comfortable in an age."

"I could say the same. All of the pomp, maintaining an image, it grows tiresome. It's not something you ever fully get used to. There are few in Canterlot I can truly be at ease with. Rosewise and Mended Heart have been my dear friends and assistants for years, but being with you is a closeness like I have not felt in a very long time."

"Then I hope it lasts many more years to come," Tercio said.

"As do I."

She had a softness about her, a warmth and gentleness in her caress and in her kiss. Nothing he'd experienced had even come close, and looking back on old relationships he found them to be nothing more than lust or curiosity masquerading as love. What he felt now, with Celestia, was something he could have hardly imagined.

He wished he could spend the whole night with her, but their visits were disappointingly short. "I suppose I should get back to my post. If Stonewall happens to wake up and stop by for an impromptu inspection we'll have quite a bit of explaining to do."

"And I should get some sleep," Celestia said with a sigh. "I will likely have to have someone else stand night guard for a short time so as not to arouse suspicions."

Tercio frowned. "Having to hide my feelings for you is not ideal, but I understand."

"I know, and I'm sorry it has to be this way for now. But it is only temporary, until we can figure something out. Soon we'll be free to spend as much time together as our schedules allow."

"I look forward to it, Celestia," he said, running his hand down her neck.

"As do I." She kissed him lovingly and smiled as only she could. "Before you go, there is something I wanted to show you. Consider it a surprise."

"Oh? What is it?"

Celestia stood up and motioned to her quarters.

"Come, I'll show you."

Intrigued, Tercio followed her inside, parting the sheer curtains that gently billowed in the wind, where she pulled a long, thin case from under her bed. A layer of dust hid a dark wood exterior that was decorated with carved and painted stars over a horizon of jagged mountains. Whatever it was, it was clearly valuable.

"Please, open it," she said, levitating it before him. Carefully, Tercio unlatched a pair of golden clasps and lifted the lid. A silvery sword lay in a fitted bed of dark blue velvet, so strikingly beautiful that it nearly took the breath from his lungs.

"This is -- was -- Princess Luna's personal weapon," Celestia explained. "I want you to have it."

Tercio was speechless. "I...I couldn't. This belongs to your sister. Who am I to--"

"You're a Praetorian, and a fine one at that. You're a good man. And you're the one I care for more than I can say." When Tercio still hesitated to take the sword she stepped closer and met his gaze. "Tercio, Luna will not be coming back for a very long time. When she does return, I do not know if I will be able to save her even then. I have held onto this blade because part of me still expected the thing that she has become to be nothing but a bad dream, but like many other things I had simply been lying to myself. Luna is gone, and I must accept that. This sword was created for her when she was still pure of heart and pure of mind, and it deserves to be wielded by someone who is both of those things."

He looked at her. "Pure of heart and mind? I could hardly claim to be either, Celestia. There is still a darkness that lingers within me, and I am fortunate that it has not surfaced again."

"It has not surfaced because you are stronger than it is, even if you do not fully understand it. That is why you are worthy of such a gift."

Tercio wanted to object further -- a blade of royalty, carried by a mere soldier? -- but as he cautiously reached for the weapon he felt a sense of calm overtake him, flowing from his fingers up through his arm and down his body. The sword visibly glowed with a faint, white light; the brilliance of the shining moon, reflected across its polished, silver surface. He grasped the hilt and firmly wrapped his fingers around the metallic grip of curved steel. To his amazement, it wasn't cold and hard like an unwrapped metallic grip should have been. Instead, it felt warm to the touch and seemed to conform to his hand, flexing and contracting until it felt like an extension of himself. Celestia smiled at his clear look of awe and wonder.

"Before my father passed, he had the finest blacksmith in Equestria create two swords, one for each of us. Mine was lost to the assassin's attack, but Luna's has remained untouched for several years."

"It's...amazing," Tercio said, hefting the longsword. The diamond-shaped pommel was inlaid with a sapphire that swirled with magical energy, and the shining crossguard was intricately detailed with a carved pattern of knotwork. Inscribed into the base of the blade was a glowing crescent moon with unknown symbols trailing away from it along the length of the fuller. They pulsed dark blue in a slow, subtle manner.

"It's ancient Equestrian," Celestia clarified, reading his curious expression. "It means 'Guard the night, that it may guard you.' I always thought it fitting."

"I can feel it...changing...in my hand."

"An old forging technique, reserved for only the greatest of weapons. Its steel is smelted with a very rare metal found only in the deepest of caves where magical conduits are at their strongest. I have long since forgotten its process, I'm afraid."

A flick of the wrist and the sword cut through the air with a sound like a flitting arrow, leaving a trail of rapidly fading white energy in its wake. He found it perfectly balanced, despite being more than twice as long as a standard gladius, almost as if it was made for his form. It was, he decided, the finest blade he'd ever held.

"I have never seen such a magnificent weapon in all my years. Are you truly sure you wish me to have it?"

"I can think of no one else I'd rather give it to."

"In that case, thank you. I am honored more than I can say." Tercio lifted the sword, already comfortable with its handling, as if he'd trained with it for years. "Does it have a name? Something I may use to honor the memory of your sister before her fall?"

"Nocturne."

"Nocturne, then. A good name."

"She always thought so," Celestia said, a warm smile spreading from the old memories it brought up. "Allow me to have the honor of formally presenting it to you."

A yellow glow lit the room, and Tercio's holstered gladius lifted from his belt. In its place, a longer, black sheathe of fine leather inlaid with silver latched on and fastened itself in place.

"Centurion Tercio Krosus, Praetorian of Equestria, protector of the realm and all its peoples, I, Princess Celestia, hereby present you the blade of Princess Luna, that you may wear it with pride and wield it always in good standing. As sword and soldier you are now bonded -- keep it safe, and it will see you safe in return."

Tercio saluted, crisp and formal, before relaxing and accepting Celestia's loving embrace.

"I will keep it with me always. Thank you."

Tercio was deep into an adventure story when he was interrupted by a heavy stomp on the floor. Standing beside his cot was a well-built earth pony with a dark brown coat and cropped orange mane, a loose tunic adorning his torso.

"Decanus Rimeberry," Tercio said flatly, looking over the top of his book.

"Centurion Tercio," the other returned the favor. "You are hereby invited to a night of merriment and inebriation, should you so choose."

"Should I? Hmm. I'm not sure. This novel is quite interesting."

"It means getting away from the barracks for a few hours, sir."

"'Sir'. I like that. It has a nice ring to it. Perhaps if you addressed me in such a manner more often..."

Rimeberry laughed. "Come on, you ass! A couple of the guys are going to get drunk at the caupona in town and stare at mares way out of our league. You going or what?"

"Pull my leg, why don't you?" Tercio answered with a grin. "Of course I'll go! Not like I have much else to do, eh?"

"Not unless you're particularly invested in that book of yours."

"It's average at best."

"That's what I like to hear! Grab your coin and join us, we'll be at the palace entrance."

Tercio quickly pulled on his tunic and slipped a small dagger into his thigh holster as Rimeberry trotted off. A quick peek into his coin purse revealed a decent amount, at least enough to pay for a few drinks. With no night guard duty he didn't have any other plans for the night. Briefly, he wondered what would happen if he invited the princess to go to drinking with them. The thought of a drunk Celestia made him laugh more than he knew it should have.

Moments later he was crossing over from the castle grounds to Canterlot proper. Besides himself and Rimeberry, their small group consisted of Thunderburst and Polaris -- stallions he'd served with since his first day of training for the Praetorians -- and two newer members who had proven themselves fighting the whitetail before being selected to join the private guard of Canterlot Castle: Frost Wind, a pegasus with a knack for cloud control, and Baer'barisater, the only zebra Tercio had ever seen in the Equestrian military, nevermind the Praetorian Guard itself. To Tercio's eyes the stocky soldier looked strange, though he imagined Baer'barisater thought the same of him.

Of course, there was the slight issue of no one in the Guard being able to say the zebra's name properly. As a result, over the last few weeks he'd earned the affectionate nickname of "Bear", a title that he wore with pride. Tercio knew next to nothing about him, but he was sure the zebra had some interesting stories to tell.

They chatted idly while they left the familiar confines of the palace, heading into the hub of Canterlot's commercial and social district. More than a few stares were directed at the group; having a zebra at his side was sure to draw more than usual, even by Tercio's standards. Still, no one was directly hostile or rude, and he soon came to ignore them entirely as he focused on finding the establishment that was tucked into an alley just off the main roads. A simple sign hung above the door as Polaris pointed it out, proclaiming "Banded Buzzard Inn and Drinks" in green lettering.

"Right, first round's on the new guys," Rimeberry said, ducking into the doorway and descending the short flight of stairs.

"Hope you brought a deep purse, friend," Thunderburst said to the newest Praetorians.

"We are the first to buy, yes?" Bear asked in heavily accented Equestrian. "This tradition, I am not familiar with it."

"That's because he just made it up! Now come, drinks wait for nopony. Or zebra."

Bear shot a curious look to Tercio. "Sometimes, I still do not understand Equestrians."

"You and I both," Tercio chuckled.

The Banded Buzzard was a relatively small place, with a bottom level serving as a bar and small kitchen, and the top two levels filled with rent-able rooms for weary travelers or those who had simply had too much to drink. Magical torches burned in the corners and cast multi-colored light on the customers who were seated at round, wooden tables or tucked into seats that surrounded dice boards, and pretty mares in eye-catching outfits trotted to and from the bar with trays covered in mugs, decanters and carafes. It was a comfortable if somewhat loud environment, not the type of place Tercio would have frequented on his own, but just fine for a night with those he considered to be his brothers.

"Right, lads. Bear and Frost Wind have the first round. I volunteer Tercio for the second." Polaris led them to a corner table with large seating cushions, and the newer Praetorians left to grab the first of the night's drinks. Tercio took a spot next to Rimeberry.

"I was under that assumption that I had to volunteer myself."

"Not in the Guard, my friend. Besides, it'll make you look good to the new guys."

"If that's the case, then I 'volunteer' you for the one after."

Polaris knocked him on the shoulder with a hoof.

"Now you're getting it."

There was a line for orders at the bar, with a pair of bartenders rushing about to try and take care of everyone's needs.

"So Polaris," Tercio started.

"Hmm?"

"What's the story with Bear? I've hardly seen him a handful of times since he was accepted into our ranks."

Polaris shrugged. "Not entirely sure, to be honest. I only know what he's told me: he wanted to join the Equestrian ranks because it paid more, so he did."

"There are a lot of things that pay better than military service."

"Right? The guy's a good fighter but he's about as open as Equestria's royal coffers. Stonewall might know more but he's tight-lipped as usual." Frost Wind and Bear were at the front of the line now, a pair of trays steadied on their backs for drinks to be placed upon.

"I'd rather have Frost Wind at my side," Thunderburst added.

"What, because you're both pegasuses?" Rimeberry countered.

"Pegasi, Rime. Pegasi. Would I be so wrong for saying yes? It's rare we get another pegasus in the Praetorian Guard that isn't already shackled to Celestia's sky carriage. A pair of pegasi working together is a force to be reckoned with, especially when paired with you poor lot stuck on the ground." The newer members of their group were finally on their way back, carefully stepping around ponies to avoid spilling their precious cargo. "But yeah, I guess Bear's an okay zebra. Haven't met enough to know for sure. He doesn't talk much, you know?"

"As long as he does his job he can have his privacy. We've all got our secrets."

Royal secrets, in Tercio's case.

"Gods' honest truth," he said.

Bear and Frost Wind slid their trays onto the table and passed around the wooden tankards.

"We'll start off with a bit of the finest swill Canterlot produces." Frost Wind slid the frothy mugs to Tercio, Rimeberry and Polaris, then moved over to let Bear set his drinks down next.

"And for Sir Thunderburst and Sir Frost Wind," Bear said cheerfully, "we have ciders from...some place."

"Some place?" Thunderburst asked.

"The drinks tender, he said only that it was 'better than the cheap shit you will find for the same price'. I took his word for it."

The pegasus eyed his drink. "Right...if I die, it's your fault. What are you so happy about?"

A big smile spread across Bear's face as he took the last cup into his grasp, much smaller than the others.

"They had joi'liq."

Rimeberry scratched his head. "Joy-what?"

"Joi'liq, my friend. It is rare to find it outside of Zevran or eastern Equestria."

"Zebra drink, I take it."

"Oh yes. A favorite of many of my kind."

Tercio raised his mug and held it out before him. "Less talking, more drinking. Praetoria Victor!"

"Praetoria Victor!" the others echoed as one, then knocked their drinks together and took long pulls of their alcohol of choice. The mead in Tercio's cup was slightly sweet with a sharp bite at the back of the throat, a taste he'd developed a fondness for since being introduced to it by Rimeberry. The foreign drink had become a Praetorian favorite, even if some still staunchly refused to drink anything but Equestrian alcohol.

"Lemme try that joy-lick stuff," Rimeberry said with an impatient wave of his hoof.

"Better you than us," Polaris laughed beside him.

"Your loss, Pole." The big earth pony sniffed at the drink, shrugged, and knocked back a gulp...then immediately began to cough and gasp for air, pounding his hoof on the table. "Celestia's cock! What the hell is in that?!"

"A few ingredients, mixed in the proper amounts, and reduced in a cauldron for three days." Bear grinned in self-satisfaction. The biggest member of their ranks had been brought to tears by a simple drink. "It would seem the earth pony was wrong, perhaps the zebras are truly strong..."

Rimeberry laughed despite his hacking, wheezing breaths and the sound of his comrades joking around him.

"Shit! You know what? You win this one, Bear. I'm not even gonna deny it."

"As you say," Bear answered simply.

"Tercio! You need all the hair on your chest you can get, you poor bastard. Have some of this, it'll make you sprout a coat in no time."

Tercio was not in any particular hurry to try it for himself, but he could hardly say no. Cautiously he picked up the small, ceramic cup and brought it to his mouth. It smelled like herbs, an almost tea-like scent. That scent was replaced by the burning of a miniature sun he was convinced had suddenly taken refuge in his throat and was working its way down into his stomach.

"Gods, that's foul!" he laughed, quickly chasing the Zevran liquor with his far mellower mead. "Remind me never to get in a drinking contest with you, Bear, else I may burn a hole in my innards."

Polaris knocked his hoof on his mug.

"Now that you two have fallen on that particular blade, let's get this started properly! Tercio, you're full of stories and shit in equal measure. Entertain us!"

Tercio lifted his drink and smirked.

"Where should I begin?"

He hadn't noticed her yet, too busy with his friends and colleagues to bother studying the bar. They had been drinking and eating for hours, laughing and regaling each other with tales of bravery and embarrassment. She hoped they would not be there all night; patience was not her strongest trait, though if it meant making things right in some small way she would do what it took.

The bar tender had made a decent profit from her, content to bring her juices and lightly alcoholic drinks since she'd arrived. She hid her annoyance. Overpriced and watered down, that's what they were. A far cry from her private selection. And the stallions! She had been approached so many times it had passed the point of being a compliment. Now she just brushed them away, sometimes having to raise her voice to be rid of the more persistent ones. Besides, she was in the mood for mares tonight. Ones with a little more class than the tarts who threw themselves at the first drunken soldier with a bursting coin purse. That would have to wait, though. For now she simply watched, and waited.

Another hour passed before the human got up from his seat. He said something to the others and they started to leave without him; she saw him pull a selection of bits and place them on the table, then stop and briefly talk with a stallion she didn't know. A friend, probably. A few minutes later he was headed for the door, tripping over himself once. He shook his head to try and clear the alcoholic fuzz from his mind, and that was when she fell in behind him. Clad in a typical body wrap and concealing her face with a fashionable veil, he did not take notice of her. They went onto a busy street and she struggled to follow, only able to keep him in sight thanks to his tall figure and the pleasant song he sang to himself. The street gave way to a series of smaller alleys, and once they were free of other guards she finally made her move.

"Away must I go...my darling, so dear..."

"Excuse me..."

"To battle I march...but please, do not fear..."

"Excuse me, Sir Tercio?"

Was someone actually calling to him? It couldn't have been. Surely the drinks were playing tricks.

"Sir Tercio, if I may?"

He stopped. His addled mind took a second to process that a mare was standing behind him. She was a pleasant looker with deep blue eyes, somehow familiar.

"Yes? Do you require aid?" he asked. "If you're looking for a guard I am afraid I'm off duty right now."

"I am in no danger, but thank you." The mare unwrapped her veil and pulled her vividly pink mane from under a head wrap, long and curled at the ends, a pleasing compliment to her cream-colored coat. "I was actually hoping we could talk..."

Despite his haze Tercio recognized her almost immediately.

"What do you want, Sapphire?" he grumbled. "I thought it was made quite clear that you are not to be in my presence again."

Sapphire Quill dipped her head slightly in shame, her ears flattening against her head.

"I know, I know. Look, I'm sorry about that night, okay? What I did was wrong, and you've every right to be angry with me."

"It's not just about right or wrong. How long have you been following me?"

"Hours," she said. "I was in the bar, watching you and the others."

"And how did you know I'd even be there?"

She giggled. "I have my sources."

Still the same old Sapphire, he thought in growing frustration.

"Tell your 'sources' to stay away from me. I want nothing to do with you, or have I not made that clear enough?"

"Fine, fine, it's not really so complicated as I make it out to be. I see your Praetorian friends coming here quite frequently. I knew it was just a matter of time until they brought you along."

"So you stalked me for most of the night. Congratulations. What is it you want, exactly?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"And I hear your apology. Is that it?"

"Not quite. Please, just hear me out. I won't take long."

Tercio leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

"Fine, then. Speak and be done with it."

"I've...I've thought a lot about that night, about my actions. Even immediately following it I felt no concern. And then Tia -- Princess Celestia, rather -- came to me and made it very clear that I had done something terrible."

"And you needed her to tell you this?"

"Yes. I know it sounds ridiculous, but you must understand: I live a life of privilege, Sir Tercio. It is not often that I am told 'no'. This experience has been somewhat of a wake-up call for me. As I understand it, you chose to show mercy when she asked you what you wished to happen. I could have been banished from my home, from Equestria, but you allowed me to keep the life I have worked so hard for. Forgive me for asking, but...why?"

Tercio thought for a moment.

"Because you are still young. I am by no means an old man, but I've made some bad decisions in my time. You made some particularly poor ones, but was it worthy of losing everything you have, of ruining your life? In the end, I did not believe so. We must all learn from our mistakes."

Sapphire cast her eyes at the ground.

"Thank you. It is more than I deserve."

"Mmm. Maybe." Tercio quickly looked around to make sure they were alone. "Look...we will not be friends any time soon, but for what it's worth...I accept your apology."

"You do?" she said in disbelief.

"You are not the only one to have learned something, Sapphire. Being with--being around Celestia has taught me a good deal about forgiveness, among other things. So yes, I forgive you, but know this: if I should ever cross your path again, I will not be so kind. Now, if there's nothing else--"

"Wait," she quickly interrupted. "There is one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I've been trying to think of some way to pay you back for your kindness, and I think I've figured it out."

"I am not interested in further wine or sex, if that's what you were thinking."

"I am wounded, Sir Tercio. Is that what you think I would offer?" When he didn't answer she kicked a hoof at the ground. "Okay, fine, so I probably would offer those things to others. But that's not what I had in mind. When we were speaking in my chambers you mentioned your brother, Victus, and how you had not seen him for some time."

"And?"

"And fortunately for you, I have made many connections over the last couple of years. Some of them within the Equestrian military. I wrote a few letters and asked for a few favors, and I believe you'll be pleased with the results. Consider it my way of making up for my past transgressions."

She wrapped her silken veil loosely around her mouth once more, a smile tugging at the fabric.

"I believe your Imperator...Stonewall, is it?...will have some news for you tomorrow. No need to thank me."

"That's all you're going to tell me, isn't it?" Tercio asked as she began to trot away, her tail playfully flicking to and fro as her familiar confidence returned.

"Come now, Tercio. A lady never reveals all her secrets."

26 - Struggle

Cold weather training was always a miserable affair. No matter how many times he did it, Tercio still despised the snow, the biting cold and the rough terrain. He and thirty others had started their long trek up the mountain nearest Canterlot nearly four hours ago, and he had long since lost most of the feeling in his hands and feet. Insulating under garments and boots could only do so much to fight off the encroaching snows and blowing winds. He swore to himself, wishing he had the warmth of a natural coat like all the others, even if they weren't particularly happy with their situations either.

"F-Fuckin' cold and shit," a voice stammered beside him between chattering teeth and clanking armor.

"I don't see what you're complaining about, Rime." Frost Wind trotted alongside the shivering earth pony as if it was the middle of summer. "You should be used to it by now. Don't you come from a vineyard that makes ice wine? I mean, one would expect such a place to be cold."

"First of all, I don't go stomping through snow if I can help it," Rimeberry retorted with a look of barely hidden resentment. "Second, fuck you and your...your pegasus weather resistance. It's even in your name, for the love of all things decent!"

Frost Wind shrugged. "Not everyone can be blessed with being a pegasus, my friend."

"Apparently not everyone can be blessed with knowing when to shut their damn m-mouths, either..."

Imperator Stonewall, standing beside the formation, knocked his gladius against his shield.

"Are you two ladies are done slap-fighting? Because if I have to step between you the snow is gonna be the least of your problems."

"I don't know how you can stand it up here," Tercio said, stepping through a snow drift that came up to his knees.

"You learn to deal with it. Besides, I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you whiny bunch of colts show me up."

It took another half-hour until they reached their destination, a snow-covered plateau that overlooked the decidedly warmer valley below. The city of Canterlot could just barely be seen clinging to the mountains in the distance, with the castle's main spires being the only thing separating it from the horizon. Clumps of bare bushes and evergreen trees dotted the encampment site and, despite the passage of time and weather, one could still see evidence of Praetorian activity from years prior: stone fire pits, rusted tent stakes, and bits of scrap metal littered the area.

Setting up the big, canvas tents took a long time, thanks to the blustery winds, and it was miserable going. Only once they'd secured their long shelters and set out their fires did they get the chance to warm up and get some hot food in their stomachs. Some of the veteran Praetorians, Tercio included, took the opportunity to catch an hour or two of sleep, exhausted from the climb, knowing full well that they would likely not have another chance for a while to come. Warm and comfortable in his sleeping roll, he'd quickly entered a dreamless sleep. It was over all too soon.

"Winter combat drill in five! Let's move it, Praetorians!"

Stonewall's voice filled the tent, answered by grumbled swears and complaints. Tercio had to force himself to get up once more, and his legs and back protested as he strapped on his armor. He wished he was back in the barracks, in those damned uncomfortable cots. Even they seemed a luxury right now.

"I don't see the old guard joining us," Thunderburst said bitterly. 'Old guard' was what he and the others called the senior Praetorians from the other barracks, the officers, all of whom were back in Canterlot as they spoke.

"They were doing this before some of us were even able to walk. I'd say they've earned the right to sit on their asses."

The dark-coated pegasus scoffed. "At least Stonewall knows what leadership is. Hard-ass though he may be, he's certainly earned my respect, unlike the others." A chorus of agreements answered him.

"Don't let him hear you say that," someone else added, getting laughter in return.

Tercio had just finished securing his purple cloak when the old stallion opened the tent flap once more.

"Right, everyone out! Move your asses, fillies, or you'll be digging shit trenches for the next two days!"

The harsh cold was like a kick to the gut as he stepped outside. Even though the clouds had partially cleared and the sun was shining through he felt no relief, his breath coming out in wispy puffs and his skin prickling with goose flesh. His spirits lifted somewhat as he noticed the stone circle that had been laid out in the middle of the trio of long tents; perhaps some sparring would help him forget about the biting chill.

"Listen up!" Stonewall raised a hoof, a buckler shield securely strapped to it, and the gathered soldiers crowded around him. "This will be the first of your winter combat training drills! Over the next several days you will learn the fine art of not dying with your prick frozen to the ground! Don't go dropping dead on me, or I'll be disappointed. Even with you, Polaris."

The others laughed, and Stonewall waited for them to quiet down before continuing.

"More to the point, every Praetorian worth his salt needs to know how to handle himself in the worst situations possible. The smart-asses in the Legion like to call us 'soft' for residing in Canterlot, but there was nothing soft about the ass-kicking we gave to those cultists shit bags, now was there?!"

A shout of "HAH-OOH!" answered him, and a rare smile crossed Stonewall's scarred face.

"You're damned right! With that said, we can never be too prepared. The cold of winter is fast approaching Canterlot, and if those worshipers of the fallen princess or even the tree-rutting whitetail should try to attack us, thinking us weak because of a little snow, then they will be in for a harsh lesson. Krosus!"

"Stonewall, sir?" Tercio answered, standing at attention.

"You're in charge of Third contubernium for the time being. Polaris, you get Second. Cloudtop will be in charge of First once he returns with our water. I want you to form your stallions into combat groups. Formation training will begin one hour after sparring. We'll decide the hastati, principes, and triarii ranks as we get to them. Understood? Then let's get to it, Praetorians!"

The soldiers split off into their assigned groups, and Tercio circled his raised arm to gather his charges.

"Does anyone still need to grab any equipment?" he asked. "No? Very well. For now we'll form a fighting circle, and your opponent will be the stallion opposite you. Rimeberry, Anarius, Balustrade and Fentien will take the left side. Myself, Thunderburst, Iron Thresh and Bear will take the right."

"Hey, how come you get the zebra?" Rimeberry objected.

"Because I'm in charge," Tercio answered with a smirk.

"Yeah, we'll see who's in charge when you're on the ground."

The others laughed and threw out good-natured, mocking replies to the two biggest members of their number.

"Is that a challenge, Rimeberry?"

"A challenge? Of course not. It's a promise."

Tercio donned his crested helm and hefted his tower shield.

"Then I suppose we know what the first combat of the day will be, don't we?"

He could hear the Praetorians cheering him on and goading him to fight. Rimeberry looked around and smiled, then pulled out his gladius from its sheathe.

"I suppose we do. Come then, human, and draw your sword."

As he reached for his weapon Tercio wondered if such a grand sword should be used for simple combat training. He knew Princess Luna would have laughed in amusement at his hesitation -- what good was a sword if you could not use it? -- but it still felt like using a golden dagger to open a market scroll.

His fingers touched the pommel and grasped the warm grip, and as he made a connection to the magical blade it almost felt alive. A faint whisper at the very edge of his hearing called to him. Was it possible Nocturne itself was eager for battle? A single thrum, a vibration, shot up his arm at the thought, and when he closed his eyes he could see the stars of the night sky laid out before him.

He pulled the weapon from its scabbard, and it sang with a sharp-sounding squeal of metal on leather. There was a commotion all around him as he did so, gasps of surprise and murmurs of excitement.

"What is that?" Rimeberry asked, staring at the weapon in awe.

"This?" Tercio turned it over in his grasp, the fine steel catching the sun's light. "This is the blade of Princess Luna."

The murmurs grew louder, drawing the attention of the other groups who trotted over to see what was happening.

"It's what? Come on, be serious."

"I speak only the truth, my friend."

"Where in the hell did you get Luna's weapon? This has to be a joke! There's no way you could--"

"It was a gift, from Princess Celestia. A bit more fitting of a weapon for someone of my build, wouldn't you say?"

Rimeberry placed a hoof on the broad side of the sword, as if it was the only way to be sure it was real.

"I mean, yeah, that gladius always did seem kinda small for you, but still...you're not exactly royalty."

Tercio spun Nocturne around, its white trail of ethereal energy visible even in daylight. Now the crowd wanted to see him fight Rimeberry even more than before. For the first time, Tercio saw the big earth pony hesitate. The others called on him to fight, shouted words of encouragement, be it genuine or mocking.

"Alright, alright, we'll do this. I don't need some fancy-ass sword to kick your ass."

Tercio looked up from his weapon and saw Stonewall watching silently from behind the gathered soldiers. Surprisingly, he wasn't trying to disperse everyone. Tercio decided he would have to worry about the Imperator later. For now, there was a tough, well-trained, veteran soldier who wanted nothing more than to show up him and his new weapon.

Tercio and Rimeberry took their positions in the circle, shields up and weapons out.

"Tell ya what, Tercio. If you win, I'll drink three whole cups of that joy-lick stuff Bear's so crazy for next time we're out."

"And if I lose?"

"Then you gotta do it. And call me 'sir' for the rest of the week."

Tercio laughed. "Fat chance of that happening, but sure, why not?"

"Just try not to bash my face in with your fists if you think you're gonna lose, alright?"

Tercio glanced over to Polaris and cringed inwardly. They were never going to let him forget that day.

"Alright, then, you're on. Make your move if you're stallion enough."

They stood ready for several seconds, each trying to figure out their first move. Tercio felt fairly confident that he could best Rimeberry, though Rime did have a strength advantage. He would have to play to his edge in flexibility and speed. He visualized his attack and Nocturne jerked forward almost imperceptibly. It was, he realized, awaiting the fight just as much as he was.

As sword and soldier you are now bonded -- keep it safe, and it will keep you safe in return.

Celestia hadn't just been speaking figuratively. Luna's weapon was something truly special: an empathic blade, joined to its wielder. The way it conformed to his grip, kept his sword-hand warm even in the biting cold; he didn't truly understand it, but it felt like an extension of his own body. A predatory grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he came to understand the power it contained. He was ready.

Rimeberry lunged forward with his gladius clutched in his mouth, making a vicious stab at Tercio's upper legs, then followed with an upward slice that caromed off the edge of his shield. Without hesitation Rime knocked aside a sword strike and countered with a quick series of attacks and a powerful shield bash that sent Tercio reeling back. Tercio charged back with a vicious overhead strike that cut into the snow-covered dirt of the sparring ring, and as he brought his weapon back up he was met with a buck to the chest that dented his armor and sent him sprawling to the ground. He landed in a heap and cheers went up from Rime's supporters.

"That's one," the earth pony said in self-satisfaction.

"I should have seen that coming."

"Should have, but didn't."

Back in their ready positions, Tercio decided to be the aggressive one this time. He struck out with swing after swing of his magical weapon, each hit digging into Rime's tower shield and carving through the air with streams of glowing magic. Had his opponent been anyone else, he was sure they would have been distracted by the display. Nocturne sang with every attack and flashed with reflected sunlight. Rime hefted his shield to block an overhead attack, only to find Tercio spinning to the side at the last second and delivering a strong kick of his own to the stallion's ribs. A rush of air left Rime's lungs just as the tip of the longsword stopped just short his neck, shaving a strip of hairs as it came to rest.

"One each." Tercio offered a hand and helped Rimeberry to his hooves, impressed with the finesse his new weapon allowed him. The sword was a wonder to fight with, precise and deadly. Now the crowd was really into it, shouting and encouraging their favorite fighter, and more than a few bets exchanged hooves as the final round was about to begin.

"That's a nice sword ya got there," Rimeberry said. "Still not sure if you deserve to wield it, human. If it truly is the weapon of Luna then I await your inevitable destruction at the tip of her horn when she comes to reclaim it."

"I doubt very much she's coming back any time soon. Perhaps you need some more convincing, my stubborn friend?"

Rimeberry smirked. "We'll see. Come on, let's see what you can really do. Prove your worth, and I might decide you're not entirely useless after all."

Tercio clapped his sword against the side of his shield, feet firmly planted, and pushed off with a burst of speed. Initially it caught Rimeberry by surprise, causing the latter to quickly jump to the side and scramble to keep his stance in the slick snow and dirt that was rapidly becoming mud as they fought.

But Rime was a veteran soldier in his own right, and his years of training and combat experience quickly kicked in to give him the smallest of advantages in the fight. Trying to make gladius strikes his primary means of attack only invited Tercio to take advantage of the relatively unwieldy style, and only quick thinking saved him from a sword being brought down or sweeping in from the side. He blocked and parried and dodged, answering in kind, knowing he had the edge in strength and endurance.

It felt to Tercio that his knowledge was getting him nowhere. Rimeberry could not hope to trick him with magic or fly above him like a pegasus, but in a way it made him more dangerous; he would fight with good, old fashioned combat prowess. Tercio tried all manner of faints and misdirections, yet Rime did not fall for it even once. Battering at the earth pony's shield was like trying to cut into a thick tree, for all the good it was doing. He could feel himself slowly beginning to lose focus as he grew tired, his arms protesting with every swing and stab. Still he fought on, getting a second wind as a hard blow to Rime's helm with the pommel of his sword brought a brief window of opportunity. He swung diagonally, outside of the stalwart tower shield, but Rime brought up his buckler with little effort, using the momentum of his opponent's attack to send Tercio stumbling to the edge of the ring with a firm kick. Tercio recovered just before he would have stepped out, breathing heavily as he brought his weapon and shield back up. His muscles burned with the effort.

"Damnit!" he cursed to himself. What was he missing? He had used every advantage available to him, and still Rimeberry showed no signs of slowing down. Frustrated, he stepped forward with his shield covering him from ankle to neck, his sword facing out.

Nocturne jerked in his hand, its grip growing warmer. What was he doing wrong? He had always considered himself to be a strong fighter, a warrior who knew his way around a blade. And yet, he could not find enough of an opening to finish his opponent. Using the longsword took so much more out of him than his old gladius, but he could feel its power just waiting for him to exploit it. It was there, just below the surface, yet unreachable.

Slowly, as he approached the waiting Rimeberry, his focus tunneled until all he could see was the enemy. Rimeberry, standing there as if nothing was the matter, as if Tercio was no more than a mere recruit. He gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply, and he felt Nocturne thrum with energy, urging him to keep going.

Tercio and Rimeberry charged each other and met with a powerful collision of shields, neither willing to move back an inch. Rime attempted to find a weak point in Tercio's defenses, alternating stabs from his short sword and quick jabs from a dagger he'd secured to one of his forelegs with a length of fabric. Twice they drew blood from shallow wounds, and Tercio grunted in momentary pain.

As he finally landed a successful attack -- a shallow gash along Rimeberry's haunches -- his vision grew tinted with fog, red and creeping, at the edges of his sight.

Rimeberry dashed forward and brought his armored shoulder to bear, ramming it into Tercio's shield and stumbling the human despite his combat-ready stance. Multiple strikes dug into Tercio's armor or deflected off, but for every attack he was more than capable of defending in turn. Time after time the two met sword and shield, neither finding a way to end the battle.

Tercio was growing increasingly frustrated. If only he could find an opening! If only he were stronger! He needed victory so bad he could taste it, feel it in every fiber of his being. The sensation was palpable and alluring in ways he couldn't fully grasp.

Tercio dropped to a knee, his breathing becoming rapid and harsh as he felt a power come over him that was at once terrifying and wonderful in its familiarity. For the briefest of moments he knew, somewhere in the commotion of the attacks that still slammed into his shield, what was happening. It was like a flood of molten metal through his veins, and he fought to control himself.

"Stop this," he whispered to himself.

A dark tint of red washed over his vision. The thought of combat, the thrill of seeing the arterial sprays of blood as his enemy died screaming, was intoxicating. He was no longer tired. His arms no longer ached, his muscles no longer protested against his movements.

He felt powerful. Unstoppable.

With a primal shout he burst forward, sending Rimeberry sliding back, and began a vicious barrage of attacks that slowly but surely sent the stallion inching toward the edge of the ring. He was no longer looking for a break to end the fight. All he wanted was to see Rimeberry's shield torn away, tossed to the side like a play thing, that he could carve into his opponent and bury his sword up to the hilt. Distantly he heard Rimeberry curse as he was reduced to his buckler and gladius, and as the stallion attempted to recover his shield Tercio brought his sword up, ready to plunge it through Rimeberry's armor.

"No!" he said between gritted teeth. His arms brought Nocturne down in a death blow, landing to the side just enough to do no more than draw a slim stream of blood. He fell to a knee once more, dropping his shield and holding onto his sword that was stabbed point-down into the mud. "Not...again..."

The darkness inside of him, the power he could not put a name to, fought against his will. Rimeberry, confused by Tercio dropping his shield voluntarily, came in for another attack in the hopes of securing a victory. Tercio deftly deflected the gladius, grabbed Rimeberry by the pauldrons, and hurled him across the ring.

"I am in control," he spat, shutting his eyes tight. The sword burned in his hands, physically painful to hold, as if trying to escape his grasp. "I...am not someone's...trained animal!"

Rimeberry was up and on the offensive once more, but as he struck out Tercio met the blade with his own. Tercio grabbed the back of his helm and pulled him forward.

"Rime," he pleaded in a strained, angered voice, "it's happening...again..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rimeberry replied, struggling to pull away. "Let me go or end this already!"

"The anger. It's...trying..."

Rimeberry's eyes went wide, the memory of the assassin's spurting blood flashing before him as clear as day.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit!" He tried to jerk away from Tercio's grasp, but the human had a tight grip on his foreleg. Realizing he wasn't likely to get away, he instead tried to help Tercio resist whatever it was that had come over him."Come on, Tercio, fight it! You beat it once before, you bastard, and you can do it again!"

No one in the crowd seemed to know what was happening. It was clear that the fight had taken a strange turn, but to what extent?

In a rapid-fire flash of images Tercio saw himself tearing through the Praetorians. He saw countless dead at his feet, and the dying form of Celestia crushed between his powerful hands. Tears ran down his face at the glimpse of the future the darkness had in store for him, and he shook with rage and grief.

"I would never hurt her. Never!"

"Hurt who? Tercio! Hurt who?!"

Tercio looked up at Rimeberry, the urge to destroy him screaming through his mind, straining to take over.

"...Celestia."

Nocturne was no longer burning in his hands. At once it became cool, almost comforting, and a glow of white-tinted magic built at the tip of its blade. It grew until it was like a miniature sun, the gathered Praetorians having to shield their eyes from its brilliance. The energy rushed down the length of the blade, briefly gathered in the grip, and shot through his arm, flinging him back into the dirt. It twisted through his veins and traveled through his chest, glowing under his skin. Something shrieked in his head, terrible and shrill, until it was all he could hear...and then it stopped, mercifully silent. Blinking his eyes open, Tercio found not even a hint of the red that had so clouded his vision just seconds prior. He met Rimeberry's worried gaze, and felt only relief. His breathing returned to normal, and he slowly pulled himself to his feet.

Everyone was looking at him. They had seen the power inside threaten to come out, and those who had heard of his horrible deeds against Polaris and the assassin Lacertus had their weapons drawn. And yet, he felt a clarity he had not experienced since before the war, before he joined the Praetorians.

"Make way! Move it!" Imperator Stonewall pushed his way through the shocked crowd, a hoof on the sword at his side. "Krosus? What in the nine hells did you just do? What was that?"

Tercio looked down at himself in disbelief, covered in mud and melting snow.

"I've won," he said simply. "I've beaten it again, without bloodshed."

Stonewall eyed him skeptically.

"Are you...you, still?"

Tercio hefted Nocturne before him, as if he was seeing it for the first time.

"More than I have been in a very long time, sir."

Stonewall was skeptical and cautious, but nodded in approval all the same.

"I think we need to discuss a few things. Meet me in my tent once you've cleaned yourself up. The rest of you: show's over, get back to to your groups!"

As Tercio began to walk off, the crowd parting for him in stunned silence, Rimeberry called out to him.

"Wait, so...does this mean I win?"

"Take a seat, Krosus." Tercio did as he was asked, sitting atop a worn cushion opposite Stonewall in the large, private tent that was covered in maps and hastily discarded scrolls. Even during a training mission the old stallion had a warrior's mindset. "I think it's abundantly clear that we need to talk about some...issues that have arisen as of late. I want you to be truthful with me. No bullshit, no half-truths. Just honesty. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Tercio answered. He fretted about what the questions would be, though he knew at least one of them would be about his incident.

"Alright then." Stonewall poured a hot cup of some sort of dark liquid for himself and Tercio, handing one over. "Here, it'll warm you up and help with your nerves." Tercio tried it, finding it bitter and a little unpleasant, but it was better than nothing. "First time having coffee? The wife picked some up when she visited Zevran a while back. They're crazy about it there. Better than that tea crap everyone else seems to like so much, if you ask me." Tercio hadn't asked, but he knew better than to question Stonewall's tastes. "So, let's just get the obvious one out of the way: what in the hell happened out there? Was it another one of your 'lapses'?"

"For lack of a better word, yes."

"Go on."

Tercio took another sip of his "coffee", thankful that it gave him a few seconds to think.

"When I was sparring with Rimeberry I felt fine. We were evenly matched, and he is a skilled opponent. At some point, however, I began to feel myself growing frustrated that I could not break his defenses. Whether this 'power' inside of me began to feed on that, I can't say, but I knew it was happening once I began seeing blood everywhere I looked."

"Like before you attacked Polaris. Or the assassin."

"Yes," he nodded. "It was the same sort of gnawing hatred that steadily grew until it was all I could focus on. I didn't just want to defeat Rime, I wanted to hurt him, to kill him. It terrifies me that such a thing is able to come out seemingly whenever it pleases. It's been so long since it last happened, I thought that maybe...maybe this time I could stop it before it started."

Stonewall was quiet for a time, studying Tercio carefully.

"Did Rimeberry say fal--that word? Did he utter it at any point? Did anyone else?"

"No, sir, not that I know of. It's strange; every other time I've lost control of myself it was because of that damnable deertongue word, like some sort of built-in trigger. But when I was out in the ring it was like the mere existence of frustration and anger was enough to bring it to the surface." He struck his fist against his chest. "It tried to control me, but I would not give in. Not this time. It was the strangest feeling, as if I was fighting someone else inside my own body." He didn't mention that it was the thought of Celestia that had once again saved him.

"So what you're saying, if I understand properly, is you can control it now?"

Tercio shrugged. "I don't know, not for sure. If someone were to use that certain word I might fall back to my more primal ways, but I'm slowly learning how to fight back. I was able to drag myself back from the rage that resulted in the assassin's death; perhaps this darkness inside of me is growing desperate, looking for a new way to let itself take over. That could be why I nearly lost myself in the ring."

Stonewall rubbed his chin in thought. "You say that like it's alive, instead of some part of you that you do your best to hide."

"Perhaps it is. If it is not, then I am truly fighting against my own nature, which is somehow more frightening." Tercio set his cup to the side, hesitating to ask the question that was on his mind. "Sir, do you ever regret my joining the Praetorians? Do you still believe me a threat?"

Stonewall leaned back against a low table and exhaled loudly. "Hell of a question. Do I think you're a threat? You can be. The fact that a simple word -- and now, apparently, the rush of combat -- can cause you to lose all pretense of self-control is something I worry about, certainly. You have direct access to the Princess herself, and were it purely my choice I would not keep you on any sort of duty that kept you near her without supervision. But Celestia is insistent that I treat you like anyone else. She's been very insistent as of late, come to think of it..."

If only he knew why, Tercio thought in amusement.

"That said, you do seem to be able to negate this...darkness, as you call it...to some degree. It's a start. There may be hope for you yet. The others think you're a decent enough leader, though that confidence may be shaken after today's little display. We'll see how it pans out."

The sound of combat, of steel against steel, rang out as the Praetorians started their training in earnest.

"To answer your other question: no, I don't regret you joining up with us. Had you not been there when the followers of Nightmare Moon attacked us, it's entirely possible none of us would have lived to see today. Celestia saw something in you back when you were with the Royal Guard, and I've been around her long enough to know that her hunches are usually right. You can fight damn well enough, what with that lanky body of yours. So long as you don't flip out and try to murder all of us, you're more than welcome in the Praetorian Guard. Just don't let it go to your head. And for the love of the goddesses, Krosus, if you feel yourself slipping into that damnable rage again don't try to hide it. We'll do what we can to help you."

"Of course, sir." Tercio felt a welling of pride; Stonewall approved of him, in his own way. It was high praise indeed. The Imperator wasn't exactly one for smiles and pats on the shoulder, so he took what he could get.

"Good, that's what I like to hear. Before you go, there's two other things I want to discuss in brief." He pointed to the exquisite sword at Tercio's side, now dirtied by combat. Tercio would have to give it a good cleaning later. "Where in the hell did you get that thing? You know what that is, don't you?"

"The blade of Princess Luna, sir, yes. It was a gift from Princess Celestia for saving her life in the crystal cavern. She said it should be wielded by someone 'pure of heart and mind'. How she figured that person is myself, I do not believe I'll ever know."

Stonewall laughed. "Pure of heart and mind, eh? Maybe she doesn't know you as well as she thinks. Still, it's ultimately her decision. It's a fine weapon, and you should guard it with your life. When I heard the commotion and saw you holding it I had to stand there and make sure my eyes weren't playing a trick on me. It was like stepping back in time."

"Sir?"

"I had the great pleasure of sparring against Luna many years ago, back in my youth. I'll never forget the first time I saw it...I thought it was second only to Luna herself in its beauty." He waved the memory away with his hoof. "Ah, but I doubt you want to hear an old stallion ramble on about his misplaced affections."

Tercio cupped the pommel in his hand, feeling a light tingle as his fingers brushed the magical sapphire that swirled with energy.

"Sir, this is going to sound like a strange question, but...do you think a weapon can be, well, alive?"

The Imperator jerked his head back. "What do you mean, 'alive'? Is there something I should know?"

"It's just that, when I was fighting with Rimeberry, I could feel Nocturne -- that's its name, according to Celestia -- growing eager for battle. If I hold it tightly I can...hear it. Like many distant voices"

"First you say you're fighting with yourself for control of your own body, and now you hear voices when you carry this 'Nocturne'? Are you sure you haven't gone mad?"

"I know how it sounds, but it's different in this case. It's not a threatening feeling, but rather, a comforting one. When I fight it is as if the sword is an extension of my body, and I feel supremely confident. As a matter of fact, I believe it was what helped me fight off the blood rage before it could take over."

Stonewall stood up and stretched, taking a quick moment to check on the soldiers outside. Satisfied, he returned to his former spot but stayed standing.

"Yeah, I saw the glowy shit too. Everyone did. Magic is a strange thing indeed. I hope you're right about it being a force for good."

"It is, sir. I could feel it."

"If you say so, Krosus. It's possible your sword is alive, in a sense. I have heard of empathic blades; that is, a weapon that forms a connection with its wielder, but typically it is reserved for royalty, and for good reason: Celestia and Luna have had many years to learn the intricacies of such magic. They control heavenly bodies, so a simple sword is not an issue. But stallions like you and I? Well, stallions like me and whatever the hell it is you're supposed to be? We can't even float a dust mote. I'm not saying you're unfit to carry Luna's weapon, as that decision has already been made for you, but...just be careful, alright? There are magics at work here that we cannot possibly understand."

"Yes, sir. Will that be all?"

"Not quite. I have something I want you to explain to me before you rejoin the others." Stonewall pulled a scroll from a nearby table and unrolled it, a large symbol taking up much of the top right corner. "Do you know what this is?"

Tercio shook his head. "Beyond the obvious answer of it being a scroll, I can't say I do."

"This, Centurion Krosus" Stonewall explained as he stepped forward and held it out for Tercio to read,"is a writ of authorized leave, sent down from, and signed by, General Marblestone in Marestopholous. We just received it this morning, before the march. Look familiar?"

"Not in the least. Is there something I should know?"

"I should ask you the same. For some reason your name has been bumped to the top of the list for holiday leave. Just how damn well connected are you, anyway? It's going to be weeks before most of us get some time away from Canterlot proper."

Tercio took the scroll and read through it multiple times. It looked like Sapphire was a mare of her word after all.

"I have never met this General Marblestone, sir. I couldn't say why this has come to be."

Clearly confused by the situation, Stonewall took the scroll back and rolled it up before adding it to the others.

"Well whatever the case, regardless of whomever you do or do not know, I have my orders. That means you have yours. So, effective one week from today, you will be sent back to Shadyvale--"

"Summervale, sir."

"--Summervale, then, on leave for a period of no less than one week and no greater than twelve days. I'll have to see what the duty rosters look like, but we should be able to get you a decent period of rest. Don't go getting all fat and lazy on me. That's an order."

Tercio laughed. "As you say, sir."

"Good, glad we understand each other." Stonewall motioned to the tent's entrance before going back to one of the myriad maps spread out before him. "Right, that's all I've got for you, Krosus. You're free to go. Try not to murder anyone out there, will you?"

Tercio quickly gathered his helm and shield and left the Imperator to his work. Most of the stallions were too busy fighting one another to notice him as he entered the blindingly bright daylight once again, though a few stared at him as he passed. He didn't care; he was too busy enjoying the prospect of being home again. As soon as he was able, he decided, he would let his parents know. He could nearly see the reaction on his mother's face already.

"You alright, Tercio?" Rimeberry asked him, a bandage over the wound on his flank. "Stonewall didn't tear you a new asshole, did he?"

"I'm quite fine, my friend," Tercio reassured the stallion. "But I thank you for your concern. And more so, I thank you for helping me fight back against the madness that threatened to overcome me. It does not control me like it used to, not anymore."

"Well that's good. Gave me a scare, you know?"

"I know. I hated for everyone to see me like that. Guess there's no hiding it now, is there? Also, I must apologize for injuring you. It's not bad, is it?"

Rime looked at the bloody gauze and shrugged. "I've had worse. We bleed in the ring so that we won't bleed in battle, right?"

"So long as it's not us doing the bleeding at the end of the human's sword," Anarius added as he trotted to their side and took a long pull from his water skin. "What the hell happened to you? Is this a human thing? Because I feel I must be honest here: I am not comfortable with the thought of one of our own turning against us at a moment's notice."

Others echoed his sentiment. Tercio cringed inwardly at the implication, but he knew they were right.

"I understand your concerns, my brothers, but I assure you I am in control of my own will. There are merely some...complications at times. I am sure even the newest of you have heard the stories by now. There will not be another incident like with Polaris, I swear to you"

"If you say so."

Thunderburst removed his helm as he stepped closer. "Look, Tercio; I don't understand what's causing this to happen to you, and I know we've had our differences, and still do, but at the end of the day you're still one of us. After that display in the cave against the assassin, I can't doubt you have our best interests in mind. So no matter what some of us may think of you at times, we'd still fight alongside you any day. Especially after you stopped that assassin from lopping off my head in addition to my leg." He shrugged. "I just wanted to say that."

Tercio tipped his spear and bowed his head. "Thank you, Thunderburst. That means a lot to me. I am just a soldier, like all of you, no more or less. Different though I may be in appearance, we are all Equestrian at heart. I would fight and die for any one of you."

"Aye," the others in the group answered.

A pang of guilt tugged at Tercio's chest; could he really leave the others behind in Canterlot while he went home, simply because Sapphire had found some semblance of conscience and remorse over a heinous action? He longed to see his parents and his brother again, but he was not the only one with a family.

He decided, then and there, that he would make it right for as many of them as he could. Sapphire may have known generals and traders and artists, but she wasn't the only one with connections.

27 - Cervidae

Alone in his chambers, Chancellor Vinawyll pored over a table full of splayed maps and intelligence reports. Everywhere he looked the Equestrians were advancing, driving his armies back as if they were nothing more than fawns with wooden swords. Worst of all, Quillyyn Keep had fallen. The oldest and sturdiest of Whitetail's fortifications was gone, and it had happened under his rule. History would never forgive him -- if Whitetail had any history left in it.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his muzzle with a hoof. A cold gust made him shiver in his silk and velvet robes. What he wouldn't give to be merely a senator again, when the biggest worry of day-to-day life was arguing with other politicos and trying to stay awake during the countless, utterly pointless gatherings that inevitably led to nothing more than shouting matches between the old guard of Aelindris Eternal supporters and the newer, radical Unionist advocates. Even now, in a time of war, the two sides failed to cooperate. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; politics never changed, despite the passage of time. The only difference now was that he was in charge of it all. If only that damned Equestrian hadn't gutted Artellus! The old stag would have known what to do. He'd always had a gift for decision making.

A knock sounded from his door. Who could possibly be disturbing him during the middle of the night? "Come back in the morning, I am quite busy," he demanded. Whoever it was, they were persistent -- another knock, but louder. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear the first time. Leave."

"Is that any way to speak to an old friend?" the stranger said through the door. Vinawyll trotted over, his spirits momentarily lifted. A thin smile crossed his face as he opened the door to his quarters.

"Brother-Captain Corvalix. What brings you by at this forsaken hour?"

"Chancellor Vinawyll," Corvalix said courteously, bowing his head. "I was taking a late stroll and noticed the torch light coming from your balcony. Another sleepless night, I take it?"

"Unsurprisingly, yes. There's been quite a few of those as of late. But please, come in, come in." Corvalix stepped inside, looking around the grand chambers of marble, gold and glass-like quinndryll crystal that reflected the room's emerald torch light. It wasn't the first time he'd been in the state room of the chancellor, but it was no less impressive. "May I get you a drink? I have some fine amasec from Icebridle Falls."

"Equestrian sweet wine? By all means." Corvalix laughed. "You have an odd choice of drinks, my friend. There are those who would likely be upset to know you have it."

Vinawyll waved a dismissive hoof as he floated over a jug and two crystalline cups. "I am at war with their soldiers, Brother-Captain, not their alcohol."

"Fair enough. And it's 'Brother-General' now, by the way."

"Indeed?" Vinawyll raised his drink in celebration and chuckled at the thought. "Congratulations, my friend! When did this happen?"

"Earlier this week. Empress Elinwynn, in her infinite grace, saw fit to promote me for my hard work and dedication to the joint cause of Cervidaen and Whitetail prosperity. I could hardly refuse."

"Your sister always was a smart one. How is she these days?"

Corvalix took the cup with his own magic, swirling the amber-colored drink and sniffing approvingly at the aroma. It washed down his throat like milk and honey, burning pleasantly and warming him against the cold night. "She is well, thank you. It has been a long and tiring year for Cervidae and the entire Hegemony, but she has seen us through without fail. I harbor nothing but the deepest respect for her."

"As do I, and I am glad she fares well." Vinawyll motioned to the maps that covered a decent portion of his chambers. "I assume you've heard about Quillyyn Keep."

"I have. Unfortunate business, that." Corvalix studied the formations carefully, his trained mind working on formations and tactics even if they weren't for his own soldiers.

Vinawyll knocked back most of his cup. "You have a talent for understatement as well as commanding troops, it seems. Now the damned Equestrians have a clear run right to Evinwiir itself. To think that I could be the first chancellor to have the capitol besieged...and possibly the last chancellor of Whitetail."

"Do you not have garrisons here? What of your siege weapons? Your rations of food and medicine?"

"We have those things, yes, but the walls will not hold forever. Not if Celestia sees fit to pound them into dust."

"You sound dangerously defeatist, chancellor."

Vinawyll shrugged. "Do you really blame me? Whitetail's armies, the pride of the five forests and harbingers of peace from the seas to the mountains, have been defeated at every turn. And here we thought the Equestrians weak, a nation of lovers and poets." He refilled his cup and finished it in a single gulp. "Damned fools in the senate. Ancestors damn them for their presumptuous, arrogant dismissals! Even as Whitetail burns around them they only seek to further their own ambitions." He pointed to the maps, his anger growing. "The people of Whitetail, the nation of Whitetail, are one and the same! They deserve better!" Vinawyll sat on his haunches and scoffed at the thought of the senate accomplishing anything. "And yet here I sit, unable to do anything about it. I never wanted to be Chancellor. It is only through family history and connections that I call these chambers my own."

Corvalix approached the balcony that overlooked the nearby river, leaving Vinawyll's words hanging in the air. "Why don't you pass your charge to someone else, then? One of the others?"

"Pass on my duties? I may as well put a blade to my own belly and draw it to my throat. Between the Eternals and the Unionists there would be a civil war inside our walls and an Equestrian war outside them. What else can I do besides hang on and hope for the best?"

"There is another way, Chancellor."

Vinawyll stared at the Cervidaen general. "We've already discussed this, Corvalix. Imagine the outrage if I agreed to it!"

"Imagine the outrage when your children are slaughtered in the streets and your does are raped and murdered by Equestrians blinded by battle-lust."

"Do not think to frighten me, for I am not so easily persuaded." Vinawyll placed his forelegs on the map table, darting from unit marker to unit marker for some sort of solution. "We could implement a general draft, call all citizens of fighting age to the war. Perhaps the Saddle Arabians could be convinced..."

Corvalix stepped over and shoved a cloven hoof against Vinawyll's chest. "Is that your solution, then? Have civilians fight against veteran soldiers? Rip fawns from their mothers' embrace and replace them with quinn-blades?"

"Don't you dare--"

"The Saddle Arabians? They would no more fight for you than Cervidae would fight for Equestria! Listen to yourself, Vinawyll!"

The chancellor pushed Corvalix away. "I know!" he shouted. "I know, alright? Just, please, give me a moment..." A few deep breaths allowed him to speak rationally again. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to lose my temper. It's just...I don't know what to do anymore. Perhaps we should surrender. We may shorten our borders but I do not believe Celestia will see Whitetail banished from the texts and razed to the ground if we gave in."

"Is that what you truly want?"

"Of course not, but what is the alternative? Prolonging a losing war? Enough fawns are without their fathers as is."

"You know the alternative." With the chancellor calmed down Corvalix felt confident in approaching him again. He lowered his voice to a measured, practiced tone. "Please, Vinawyll, let us help you. Redtail, Whitetail...we are not so different. Our people weep at the loss of your fathers, mourn the loss of your sons in battle. Whitetail is family to us. Elinwynn is different from her elders; she longs for the old days, before the time of her great-grandmother and her grandmother before her. Neither she nor I wish to see Whitetail lost to the sands of time."

Vinawyll was silent for some time, clicking his hoof against the floor. "You know the ramifications of this, do you not? There will be anarchy in the senate, perhaps in the streets themselves. This is not a decision I can back away from once I have made it."

"I know, my friend. It is a lot to think about. Perhaps I should take my leave for now?"

"I think that would be best," Vinawyll nodded. "Will you be in Whitetail for the time being?"

"I'm afraid I must return to Cervidae for a short time, but I will return within a fortnight. You will let me know then?"

"Of course. Send a runner once you have arrived, then we may discuss things in detail."

"As you wish." Corvalix bowed his head in reverence. "Until then, Chancellor Vinawyll. May the ancestors find you in good health."

"And you as well, Brother-General. Do give your sister my warmest regards."

Vinawyll opened the door and showed Corvalix out, waiting until the redtail general was down the hall before closing it again. There was so much to consider. The survival of Whitetail, the legacy of his entire family, rested on a dagger-point. Exhausted, he extinguished the magical fires dotting his chambers and crawled into bed. It would be a long day tomorrow.

Tercio sighed as yet another procession of ponies from around Equestria entered the Great Hall. Hours had gone by already, and countless hundreds of citizens had come by to cast their name in the drawing to be one of the dozen Hearth's Warming organizers. They were more-or-less organized into eight lines that each led to a table overseen by a court-appointed representative, though the inevitable confusion from such a situation was more than evident.

So many visitors meant that he and many others were stuck with "door duty"; keeping curious foals and prying adults from important areas of the palace, and potentially fighting off anyone violent or stupid enough to think of attacking Equestria's seat of power. For all intents and purposes he was a statue, an ornamental centerpiece for visitors to gawk at and gossip about, his armor polished to a near mirror shine and his spear held firmly against his side with an Equestrian banner flying from the tip. He'd stood in the same place, unmoving, for so long that even his aching legs had stopped bothering to protest.

Ever the life of excitement, he thought bemusedly. At least no one had tried to push past him into the hall way leading to throne room -- not that it would have mattered anyway, since the large doors were barred for the time being.

Still, it beat freezing his ass off half way up some gods-forsaken mountain again. Four days in the snow was more than enough for one life time, as far as he was concerned. For all of the monotony, the Great Hall at least looked a little more festive than it had the last time he'd seen it; streamers of red, gold, green and white ribbon hung from the balconies, and laurels of evergreen and holly decorated the walls and gave a pleasant, comforting scent to what was otherwise a barely-contained rabble.

In the center of the room a large fountain depicting King Argo Navis and Queen Aurora stood watch, surrounded by thirty-three candles that bobbed gently in the air, held aloft by simple magic, each candle representing a century they had spent together. Offerings of coins and trinkets lay at the base of the fountain, left by fillies and colts as part of the holiday tradition.

Someone in steel-and-gold Praetorian armor politely pushed his way through the crowd, waving to Tercio as he approached. The purple cloak draped across his back had been newly decorated with crossed swords in golden thread, a gift for his devotion and patience in training the Princess in the fine art of self-defense.

"Polaris," Tercio nodded. The scarred unicorn looked around at the throng of ponies, having to nearly shout to be heard even when standing next to his comrade.

"Enjoying your time back in Canterlot, I see."

"Oh yes, guarding a door is as riveting as ever. Any more excitement and I'm likely to fall asleep with my eyes open."

"You're in luck, then! I'm your relief, at least for the time being. The Princess has called on you for something or other. She didn't specify what."

Tercio's mood instantly improved. It had been nearly a week since he'd last seen her.

"Did she say where I should meet her?"

"She'll be in the garden. Probably best not to keep her waiting."

"As you say." Tercio snapped off a crisp salute -- more for the sake of impressing the crowd than anything -- and passed his spear to Polaris, who saluted in return and took Tercio's place. Finally free of his post, Tercio stepped past two pegasus Praetorians armed with menacing wing-blades and made the short trek to the main entryway, then down to the royal garden. Two more ponies stopped him for verification, a pair of Royal Guards this time, and once they were satisfied he was free to take his first breath of fresh air in many hours. The silence was nearly overwhelming, with only a light, cold breeze rustling the branches of evergreen trees and diamond-leafed bushes.

Celestia was nowhere to be found, but he soon heard a pleasant humming somewhere near by. He followed it past a hedgerow and into a small collection of pine trees, and he smiled as he laid eyes on his Princess. She had chosen a simple, white and gold toga that hung off her left shoulder, and a laurel of golden leaves was tucked into her mane where her crown usually sat.

"You called for me, Princess?" he asked formally, just in case anyone was listening. She seemed to have not noticed his presence until he spoke, and her eyes lit up to match her smile as she saw him.

"That I did, Centurion Tercio." She eagerly embraced him, and Tercio relaxed and returned her affection. They shared a loving kiss, the first in what felt like far too long. "It's okay, it's just us out here. No need for formality."

"In that case, I've missed you terribly, Celestia." Tercio placed a hand on her neck and pulled her in to him, slipping his fingers under the loop of her toga sleeve and gently tugging at it. Celestia giggled in delight.

"Undressing the Princess in public is frowned upon by royal edict, you know."

"I'm willing to take the punishment for it."

"Oh, I'm sure you are," she teased. "How have you been, my love?"

"Cold, tired, exhausted; you know, the usual. Stonewall seems intent on coming up with new and creative ways to cause pain."

"You poor thing, up there alone with the mean old Imperator. And how are you now?"

"Better, now that you're here."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

She kissed him once more, a quick peck on the cheek, and turned to the pine trees before her. "What do you think of the decorations this year? Silverlane worked on them tirelessly for three days."

"They're very nice. The visitors certainly seem to think so. At least, I think that's what they were saying. I've heard combat rings quieter than the Great Hall."

Celestia laughed quietly, pulling small branches from the trees with her magic and forming them into rough half-moon shapes as they floated in front of her. A trio of pine cones went in the center of each one, and she set them down in a pile off to the side.

"This time of year is always incredibly busy. Last year we had over a thousand ponies cast their lot to be one of the organizers. It's a very sought-after title, as you can tell. With the holiday only a week away it's becoming somewhat frantic around here. There's the play to see to, decorations to be set up throughout town, gifts to be presented...it's long since become something more than I can handle myself."

"So it seems. This time last year I was still in the Royal Guard; I never got to see just how massive the crowds of hopefuls were. Do they get paid for it, or something similar?"

"They do get a small sum of coin, yes, but most of them simply want to have the honor of helping their fellow Equestrians enjoy the time of year. They also get to have a private dinner with myself on Hearth's Warming Eve, though if we have any repeat attendees they'll be disappointed to find that Luna won't be joining us, I'm afraid." Celestia frowned briefly as she worked, not bothering to hide it. "But yes, I think this year's events will be quite something. We have always prided our nation on being devoted to friends and family, and it's always good to see everyone brought closer together by a little holiday spirit, wouldn't you agree?"

"That I would. There is nothing more important." Tercio hesitated before bringing up the topic that had been on his mind ever since that cold, first day up on the mountain. "Actually, Celestia, there is something related to that I wanted to discuss with you."

"Yes?" she asked, still working intently on her decorations.

"I am not sure how to adequately describe this situation, but...I have apparently been granted leave through the kindness of someone rather unexpected. Note that I use 'kindness' very loosely here."

Celestia looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"When we were on the mountain, Imperator Stonewall informed me that he had received a scroll before we left. It was a writ of leave, sent to him by General Marblestone in Marestopholous, and it said that I was to begin between a week and twelve days home, effective a week after receiving it."

"That would make it three days from now."

"Yes."

"Strange. I assumed the Praetorian Guard was near the bottom of the list for holiday leave. It's always been that way. Why would Marblestone ask that you, personally, have leave at a certain time?"

Tercio cleared his throat and made himself look her in the eyes. "Because Sapphire Quill is apparently very well connected."

Celestia cocked her head. "Sapphire? What does she have to do with this? If there's something you need to tell me..."

Tercio could sense where the implication was heading, and he put a stop to it as quickly as he could. "Let me assure you it's nothing like what it sounds."

The Princess went back to her work; Tercio thought it obvious she was making herself busy. "Very well then, consider me curious. Explain."

Where would he start? "A short while ago, myself and some of the others went out for some drinks in Canterlot. We had a good time and enjoyed ourselves, but on the way back to the palace I was confronted by Sapphire, who had apparently been following me since I'd arrived at the caupona."

"I see we can add 'stalking' to the list of offenses, then," Celestia said without a hint of humor. She was not the biggest fan of the aggressive playwright these days.

"Yes...I was surprised, to say the least. I wanted to tell her where she could shove her own horn and be done with it, but she pleaded that I give her a moment. When I agreed, she told me that she had come to the realization that what she'd done was very wrong, and she wanted to make it up to me in some small way by using her long list of connections to secure some time home near the holidays for me." He corrected himself; best to clarify with this sort of thing. "Actually, no, she didn't say specifically what would happen. She only mentioned that she remembered me talking about how long it had been since I'd seen my family, and said I would get a surprise from Stonewall soon after."

Celestia set down her latest half-moon decoration and sighed. "It would appear she was good on her word, then."

"For perhaps the first time, yes."

"And she did so as a form of apology, you said? What was your response?"

"I...I forgave her."

Celestia lifted a foreleg in surprise. "You forgave her?"

"I did. As I told her: spending time near you -- I did not specify to what extent, of course -- has taught me a few things about tolerance and forgiveness. I see you exercise that knowledge frequently, and I thought I might--"

"She drugged and raped you, Tercio," Celestia interrupted in apparent disbelief. "Her crime was heinous and self-serving, and it is because of that crime that she is no longer allowed near this palace. She is no longer allowed near you. You showed her mercy when you asked that she not be exiled for her actions." She shook her head, and Tercio suddenly felt very small. "I am glad you've taken it upon yourself to use my actions as Princess as inspiration, as a means to better yourself; that is very admirable. But there is a time and a place for allowing the one who wronged you to essentially be washed of all guilt. I know Sapphire, and she may very well think that she's basically gotten away with what she did."

"I cannot claim to know what she truly feels, but she sounded genuine at the time." He did his best to sound apologetic. "Still, perhaps I was naive. I'm sure the alcohol did its part to cloud my decision making."

Celestia placed a hoof on his shoulder and met his gaze. "I love you, Tercio. I knew from the moment we first met, before the attack, that you were someone with a good heart. But I have been alive long enough to know that Sapphire's type will always look for a new means of controlling someone. It's who she is. When she spent time with myself and the others I tried my best to break her of that habit, but apparently I have failed. I firmly believe in love, and tolerance, and forgiveness, and all the things that make Equestria what it is, but some things can never truly be forgiven. Even by myself."

Tercio had not expected to hear such a thing from her; after all, she was Princess Celestia, the living demigod whose knowledge and power at times seemed to be boundless. In a strange sort of way, hearing her express disdain made her more relatable. It did not make him feel any better about his decision.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I only wanted to be rid of her once and for all. I thought that if I forgave her she would leave us be, and we wouldn't have to worry about her again."

"I do hope you're right about such things. I suppose only time will tell." Celestia lifted his chin and gave the first hint of a smile he'd seen since they'd begun the discussion. "Let's not fret about it anymore, okay? She may have received an apology but she still has to live with what she's done. We'll put her behind us and move on, just as we should."

"Alright," Tercio answered, still unsure of himself.

"Good. Now...about this writ of leave. If it came down from General Marblestone I am hesitant to denounce it, though I suppose I could if you wish me to."

"That's actually what I wanted to speak with you about in the first place. I am eager to return home, yes, and I do miss my parents and brother, but...I don't know, I feel I would be acting selfishly if I were to do so before any of my battle-brothers. They have families of their own, after all."

Celestia gathered the pile of decorations and bundled them together with lengths of twine, then placed one securely on her back. "That's understandable, especially given the circumstances behind it. Do you want me to cancel your early leave?"

"Actually...I was hoping you could extend the same courtesy to the others, at least in my barracks. That way we could visit for the holiday and still be back in time to provide security for Hearth's Warming Eve. It wouldn't greatly impact our strength here at the palace, either." Celestia chewed her lip in thought, and Tercio hoped he had not overstepped his bounds. "I know this is a lot to ask, but I realize now that being sent home before everyone else would only give further reason for some of them to look down upon me. That is not how I want to be seen by anyone."

"I will have to discuss this idea with Stonewall, but provided he agrees...I see no reason why we can't dismiss a small portion of our Praetorian ranks for a week."

"Truly?" he asked in disbelief. "That is more of a relief than I can put into words. Thank you, Princess"

Celestia laughed at his still-formal nature, easing the lingering tension of Sapphire's refusal to leave things be. "Again, you don't have to call me that anymore, Tercio."

"I don't have to call Stonewall 'sir', either, but old habits are hard to break."

"We'll work on it. For now, I could use your assistance with these decorations. Care to join me?"

Tercio picked up the bundle at her side and hefted it over his shoulder. "If it means spending more time with you, you needn't ask twice."

The arena wasn't what it used to be. Back in the days of her mother and grandmother, the displays of combat prowess frequently resulted in death for one or more of the performers, a fact that Empress Elinwynn had always found odd; why spend good coin training someone, only to have them lose their head the next week? Upon her rise to power, a change in the arena's inner workings was among the first things she'd seen to.

These days, the battles were grander in scale, sometimes with a hundred combatants per side, and it was rare for a death to occur. It did not make the fights any less exciting, and indeed, the small chance of seeing someone die drew larger crowds than ever. A bloody death was a rarity, a sweet that could be dangled before the masses. Would it happen this time? Who could say? Best to buy a seat and find out...

"Blessed Empress, Brother-General Corvalix has arrived. Shall I send him up for you?"

A doe servant, wearing the simple wraps of the lower class, bowed deeply in respect, averting her eyes from Elinwynn and her gold-and-emerald gown.

"Has he, now? Excellent, I was wondering when he would return." Elinwynn pulled a silver coin from a bag at her side, floating it to her servant in a cloud of crackling magic. "You may send him to me. Do buy yourself something to eat, won't you?"

The young doe smiled at the gift -- a whole silver! -- and bowed once again. "Of course, Empress. Thank you, you are too kind. I do so hope you enjoy the spectacle on display."

"Think nothing of it, my dear. And I will, I'm sure."

Truth be told, Empress Elinwynn had not paid much attention to the warring combatants who clashed with each other on the grasses of the arena far below her covered viewing platform. Enjoyable though the sight of toned, well-built bucks sweating in the midst of simulated warfare may have been, there were far more pressing matters these days -- Whitetail chief among them. She hoped Corvalix had good news.

"Hello again, dear sister," the Brother-General said as he joined her, dipping to his knees in admiration. He wore the glassy, green armor of the Whitetail armies, inscribed with deertongue prayers of protection and inlaid with vines of gold.

"Corvalix, what a pleasant surprise. Please, rise. I trust I find you in good health?" she asked as she stood from her small mound of cushions and embraced him.

"As well as can be expected when one deals with the incompetence of the whitetail all day," Corvalix answered with a laugh.

"I can imagine. Come, join me." Elinwynn allowed her brother to be seated first, then levitated two small pitchers from a table. "You must be quite thirsty from the trip. Will water from the peaks of the Stoneridges suffice?"

"Only the finest for the Empress of Cervidae, hmm? I think that will do nicely." He eagerly gulped down a good amount and exhaled in relief. "How anyone can go back to drinking regular stream water after such a delight is beyond me."

"Fortunate, then, that you know the right deer, hmm? What news do you bring from Whitetail? Are they still flailing about while the Equestrians pound at their door?"

"At this point, flailing would be an improvement," he deadpanned. "Callous and selfish though the good Brother-General Felnaris may have been -- and murderous, we mustn't forget that -- he at least knew the basics of leading an armed force. Had he defeated the Equestrians at the edge of the forest I may have even allowed him to live for another few days. Without a coherent strategy or experienced generals the whitetail can do no more than offer token pockets of resistance. Even their greatest keep has now fallen, leaving a clear path for Celestia's trained dogs to lay siege to the capitol itself."

"Mmm, a shame," Elinwynn said. She held no love for her whitetail cousins; traitors and thieves to the last, as far as she was concerned. Had it not been for their kind, Cervidae would be a third again as large as it was. The thought of so many years of tribal in-fighting, the countless civil wars, made her stomach turn. If only her ancestors had had the insight to keep the whitetail in line. "Will they be able to hold back the Equestrians?"

"Not alone, no. Their numbers suffer from combat losses, desertion, and low morale. Try though the pompous politicos might, they cannot keep such defeats a secret forever. There is an air of discontent in Whitetail, if one knows how to find it. Celestia must be very pleased with her precious generals." He paused when he caught Elinwynn smiling to herself. "I am almost afraid to ask, my dear sister, but I feel I must: what amuses you so?"

"Celestia," she answered plainly. Down in the arena, two dozen bucks, half in gold armor and half in emerald glass, clashed against each other with vicious flurries of attacks from their armor-mounted blades and long, powerful swipes of crystalline swords. Three of the fighters fell to the ground, clutching wounds, and were dragged back behind the lines by the others on their sides. The crowd of thousands cheered. "She truly personifies the ideals that Equestria so loves, even to a fault. Her armies have pushed back the whitetail all the way to their homes, and yet she is hesitant to put an end to our...relatives...across the border. She refuses to besiege Evinwiir."

Corvalix smirked at the thought. "Meanwhile, Chancellor Vinawyll considers surrender more and more every day. The only thing stopping him is the senate. He fears, perhaps rightfully, that they would gore him for such an action." A buck with a large sword bounded over a fallen combatant and swung it with a flash of magic from his antlers, and blood spurted from the severed stump of a screaming enemy's leg. He could survive it, if treated immediately. "That one, down there, with the broad sword -- he is quite the fighter. Whitetail could use some more like him."

"Condemned prisoners and shamed warriors are too good for Whitetail, if you ask me," Elinwynn countered.

"You will get no argument here, sister." A servant boy, not yet a buck, approached and brought two new pitchers of water, setting them down on a tray with a deep bow before wordlessly stepping away again. "When you spoke of Princess Celestia you sounded quite certain of yourself. Is there something I should know?"

"I have my reasons," Elinwynn said with a wry smile.

"You mean you have your sources."

"Come now, brother, a proper doe never divulges her secrets."

Corvalix had always been annoyed by Elinwynn's vague answers, the way she always seemed to know so much yet showed so little. He also knew better than to question her, lest he find himself falling out of her favor -- and those not in the Empress' favor did not typically live long. Family was not an exception, as their dear old uncle Daedalyyn had discovered several years ago. At least he had proven useful in feeding the crows at the end of his days.

"What I can tell you," she continued, "is that our beloved pony princess does not have the stomach for a proper end to the war she tried so hard to avoid. I believe she'll hold out as long as she can in the hopes of speaking with Chancellor Vinawyll."

"And you're sure of this?"

"Oh yes, without a doubt. Trust your dear sister, won't you?" Below her, the crowd was erupting into chants and shouts of encouragement for the last four fighters remaining. On the left, a zebra and his redtail comrade. On the right, two redtail of smaller stature, but covered in thick armor. The zebra moved first, striking low with an exotic, curved blade that caught in a gap between his opponent's shoulder pauldrons and neck guard. Pulling with all of his might, the zebra brought the redtail down hard, then delivered a crushing buck that caved in the side of the redtail's helm. If that wasn't a kill, Elinwynn thought, then the ancestors had likely made him immortal. The zebra's victim twitched on his side and was finally still, blood seeping down his armor. "Do you want to know something far more amusing than any arena fight, Corvalix?"

"By all means."

"I was considering keeping this knowledge to myself, but it is simply too entertaining to not share."

"And that is...?"

"Celestia is in love. With Tercio."

Corvalix gave her a disbelieving look. "The human? Come now, I was expecting something more plausible than that. What's the truth?"

"That is the truth. He has come quite a long way from serving as fodder in the lower ranks. One imagines his skill has grown along with his inevitable ego. A human, of all things, bedding an alicorn demigoddess? I would think highly of myself in his position, too."

"Taking an interest in what happens between Celestia's sheets, are you? You learn the strangest things, though I do admit to being quite amused by such a thought."

"That is part of my calling as Empress, after all. Princess Celestia, nigh-eternal ruler of the Equestrian diarchy -- well, monarchy, now -- has fallen head over hooves for the tall, strange-looking creature who so valiantly defends her. A story of star-crossed lovers if I've ever heard one!" she laughed.

"Truly? After great-grandmother's reign I would not have thought Celestia would have even considered such a thing."

"Nor would have I. Fortunate for the human, then, that Luna is no longer around to talk sense into her sister, hmm? And, perhaps, quite fortunate for us as well."

Corvalix saw the glint in Elinwynn's eye, the familiar grin that pulled at the edge of her mouth; it was a look of planning, of outmaneuvering, that he'd seen so many times before. He was at once terrified and excited to know what his sister was concocting in that trickster mind of hers. Soon, he knew, he would find out. Until then, he could only wait and wonder.

28 - Dragon Crest

It wasn't often that the Praetorians were assigned to duty outside of the palace, or even outside of Canterlot; such tasks typically fell under the supervision of the Equestrian or Royal Guard. Today was different. A valuable cargo had been sent from out west, near the old front lines -- wagons full of stolen gold and personal belongings, reclaimed by Legion and Equestrian Guard units in the area that had pushed the Whtietail out of occupied Equestrian territory. Such a shipment was far too valuable to be trusted to normal soldiers, and with the Legion camped not far from the Whitetail capital that left the Praetorians to pick up the slack.

A trio of sky carriages had taken twenty of their number a fair distance from Canterlot, out to the small settlement of Dragon Crest. It was a long flight, and the pegasus guards made sure to stay low to avoid being seen from any great distance.

Some of the Praetorians were thrilled by the thought of getting way from Canterlot for a while, while others simply tried not to be sick from the constant ups and downs that came with skimming the terrain. Tercio fell into the latter category, a fact he was all too aware of as the contents of his stomach threatened to leap from his mouth.

"You alright there?" Rimeberry asked, unfazed by the jostling and bumping.

"I'll manage," Tercio answered, his eyes shut tight and his hands firmly gripping the seat.

Besides Rimeberry, Tercio shared the left-most sky carriage with Frost Wind -- who complained nearly constantly that he should be flying beside the carriage, not riding in it -- and Baer'barisater, known to all simply as 'Bear'. The quiet zebra didn't complain much. In fact, he didn't talk much at all, from what Tercio had seen of him.

"You ever been in a sky carriage before?" Rimeberry asked. Bear simply shook his head.

"I have not."

"Really? You look like you've done this a hundred times. Tercio could learn a thing or two from you, eh?" Rimeberry found his own joke hilarious. Tercio, less so.

"I am not bothered by flight, my friend, for I have nothing to fear from it."

"What if the yoke snaps and we all fall to our deaths?"

"You mean if the rest of you fall to your deaths," Frost Wind added.

"Yeah, fine, the rest of us. Fuckin' pegasi and your fancy wings..." he mumbled.

Bear shrugged, looking out from an open-air window. One of the other Praetorians from the central wagon was heaving his lunch from the side. "If we should fall to our demise then it will be over with quickly, and I may join my ancestors in the life beyond life."

"Wish I was as confident about a horrible death as you."

Finding an opportunity to take his mind off the flight -- and none too soon, thanks to a bump that sent him flying out of his seat several inches -- Tercio kept the normally silent zebra talking. Who knew when the next opportunity would come? He'd always found Zevran culture fascinating, like it was from another world instead of across the sea.

"Do all zebras believe in this...life beyond life?"

"Not all, of course," Bear answered. "Just as not all ponies believe in the same gods, not all zebras believe in the same ancestral afterlife. For some, it is a place of eternal youth and joy, where they may live among their friends and families for all time. For others, it is an ascension to a place of understanding and knowledge that cannot be put into any mortal words."

"And what do you believe?"

"I believe none of us can truly know. After all, are we not still alive? There are shamans who claim to have seen the afterlife, but such things are vastly different from tribal land to tribal land. I like to think I will see my elders again, but I am confident there is more beyond this life." Bear took a drink from his water skin and pointed to Tercio. "What about you, my friend? Do you believe as most Equestrians do?"

"I suppose I do," Tercio said. "I have never been much of a praying man but I believe in the gods, and I believe I will join them when I die. Until then, I hope Acresius the Brave watches over me in battle, just as I hope Autumn Bounty blesses my father with a strong harvest and healthy crops. Old gods, new gods...whoever sees me through my days, I am thankful."

"And do you believe these gods brought you to Equestria?"

That was a question he'd thought about a lot. He could never find a definitive answer either way. "I...don't know. I may never know where I'm from or who gave birth to me, but Equestria is my home, and it's only because of the kindness of my Equestrian mother and father that I have become the man I am today. If it was the gods, then they clearly had a purpose in doing so." He shrugged. "I just live my life like everyone else."

Bear nodded, seemingly content with the answer. "That is all that can be asked of us."

Tercio felt the carriage slow down and gradually descend. It wouldn't be long now.

Dragon Crest was an eerily quiet place. At the outbreak of the war it had been one of the first settlements to fall, and to this day it remained mostly abandoned by its former inhabitants. Most of the buildings were intact, their owners having left before the whitetail passed through, but leaving their farms untended for months on end had resulted in most of the crops dying off. Only a few ponies still called the place home, and even they barely scratched out a living from the hardscrabble soil that had frozen with the coming of winter. Some of them watched from their windows or stood in the knee-deep snow to catch a glimpse of the Praetorians and their ilk, and Tercio couldn't help but feel a pang of regret and anger that they had lost so much to the whitetail invaders.

The sky carriages disgorged their cargo and left just as quickly, leaving the soldiers to their task. Tercio held his shield close, shivering in the cold despite his layers of wool garments.

"Praetorians, marching formation!" Stonewall shouted. Everyone knew it was for show, a display for the few ponies left. Stonewall wanted them to know the Equestrian military was there for them, and that they had nothing more to fear from the whitetail menace. Perhaps more importantly, at least in the eyes of many Praetorians, it made them look good for the waiting Legionaries who stood at sharp attention at the opposite end of the foot path in the center of town.

"Damned Legion," the Imperator swore under his breath. Some of the battle-scarred Legionaries sneered at the Praetorians across the way, the long-standing feud no less relevant simply because there was a war going on. No one seemed to know when the rivalry had started, only that it still raged, and that was enough.

"Forward!"

Tercio hefted his shield and spear, second in line on the right side of the formation, just behind Polaris. He and the others were fully kitted for any potential conflict; besides their tower shields and long, powerful spears, each soldier carried a pair of throwing pila, their personal blades, and a long dagger. Their gear clanked as they marched together in formation.

Tercio could see most of the Legionaries were focused on him; no real surprise there. Being a third taller than their largest soldier made him stand out like a sore thumb, and no doubt they were wondering exactly what he was and why he was wearing the colors of Equestria's military. Let them wonder, he thought. They would not be the first, nor would they be the last.

"Praetorians, halt!"

As one they came to a stop. Stonewall and Balustrade stepped forward, the latter wearing a combat saddle proudly displaying a red banner of Equestria with the letters "EQ" in gold to either side. Opposite him, the leader of the Legion unit did the same. Whoever he was, he struck an imposing figure -- a stout earth pony with a close-cut mane and a coat the color of wet earth. A large gash ran along the side of his head and culminated in a patch over his left eye.

"Imperator Stonewall, 105th Praetorian Guard." Stonewall saluted, and the Legion commander returned it smartly.

"Legatus Alvarus, 32nd Legion. I've heard much of your actions during the attack on Canterlot, Imperator. You have my respect."

"And you've mine, sir."

Alvarus motioned to Stonewall's wooden left foreleg. "You sacrifice much to protect the Princess."

"I would sacrifice more to see Equestria safe from harm, sir. Old stallion like me? Well, not much left besides duty these days."

"A noble sentiment. We could use more of your type." Alvarus gave a shrill whistle and two ponies came forward, each tied to a harness that jointly pulled a single, large wagon. Its sides and top were covered to conceal its contents from prying eyes. "I trust you've been briefed on the contents of this wagon, Imperator."

"That I have. It'll be good to get it sorted and returned to those it belongs to. Gods only know how many ponies have lost everything since this war started."

"Indeed so. It will be a long trek back to Canterlot from here, and I'm afraid we must make haste in returning to the front. Can I trust you to see the contents of this wagon returned safely?"

Stonewall nodded. "Without a doubt, sir. We'll get it done, or die trying."

Satisfied, Alvarus gave the signal for his soldiers to unfasten themselves from their harnesses. "With good speed and roads permitting you should be back before nightfall." He looked beyond the Equestrian banner and pointed to Tercio, raising his voice to be heard. "You, soldier. You are Centurion Tercio Krosus, are you not?"

"Yes, sir!" Tercio answered.

"I have heard of you, strange creature that you are. Your brother fights well with the 44th. You should be proud."

Victus was still alive! It had been nearly a month since he'd last heard of him. A welling of pride and joy came over him, and he couldn't help but let a small smile come across as he spoke.

"Thank you, sir! You honor my family with your words!"

Alvarus turned back to Stonewall. "This creature is a good soldier?"

"Human. And yes, one of the finest," Stonewall answered.

"Hmm. All walks of life, and that sort of thing. I'll take your word for it. Now, if you'll excuse us, Imperator Stonewall, we must be on our way." The commanders saluted each other once more, and Stonewall stood at attention as the Legionaries turned as one and marched off under Alvarus' orders. He waited until they were down the road before addressing his charges.

"So, that's the Legion," he said plainly. "Damned fine soldiers, but the personalities of timber wolves." The Praetorians chuckled at his joke, finally able to return to a less formal stance. "Looks like you're famous, Krosus."

"So it would appear, sir. I am not entirely sure I enjoy being referred to as a 'creature', however. At least he sees me on par with a house cat, I suppose."

More laughs, and someone behind him knocked him on the ass with a hoof.

"When it comes to his kind you take what you can get, believe me." Behind him, the wagon loomed surprisingly large. It was no wonder they couldn't simply fly it back to Canterlot. Stonewall let out a low whistle at the sight of it. "Would you look at that. There must be enough gold and valuables in there to supply an army for a year, and it was all taken from the hooves of countless Equestrian citizens. Damned whitetail. We'll have to see to it that these poor folks in Dragon Crest get their things back as quickly as possible." He pointed to two of the Praetorians. "Rimeberry, Iron Thresh, you've got cart duty. Get yourselves nice and secure, it's gonna be a long trot back. The rest of you fall in to either side. Thunderburst and Bear, you've got rear guard. Let's move it!"

Tercio had forgotten what it was like to walk for almost the entire duration of a day. Judging by the groans and swears of the others, he wasn't the only one. Long marches were standard fare for the Equestrian Guard, but he was also a younger man back then, a fact that his body took every opportunity to remind him of. There had only been a few brief stops for meals or rest, so the Praetorians kept their minds occupied by idly talking with one another. As long as they kept watch, Stonewall didn't seem to mind.

"Hey, Bear, let me ask you something," Thunderburst said from the rear of the formation. Tercio eavesdropped on the conversation, having nothing much else to do. His position near the back gave him ample opportunity to do so.

"What is it you wish to know, Thunderburst?" Bear replied in his heavily-accented Equestrian.

"Where are you from?"

"Zevran," the zebra said without a hint of sarcasm. Thunderburst blinked.

"Right, I know that much, but, you know...where specifically?"

"Why do you ask?"

"We fight alongside each other, don't we? I'd just like to know more about you."

Without looking, Tercio could tell Bear was hesitant to answer.

"This seems to be a common question among the Praetorians."

"Of course it is, we're brothers after all. I know where everyone else hails from; Rimeberry is from the northern expanses, near Icedale. Polaris grew up in Marestopholous. Even Tercio is from Summervale, sort of. Isn't that right, Tercio?"

"That I am," Tercio answered.

"See? No big deal. So where are you from?"

Perhaps realizing he wouldn't win, Bear finally relented. "I suppose it could not hurt. I hail from the yellow forests of eastern Zevran, in the Mw'atut'ze tribal lands. It is a place very different from Equestria."

Thunderburst was plainly surprised to get an answer. "Yellow forests, huh? You mean, like, the leaves are yellow?"

"Not quite, my friend. My village sits on the edge of a great lake, but it is a dangerous place. If one crossed the lake to the other shore, one would end up in a land foreign to all of the senses. Trees that are both plant and animal, with roots that bleed when cut. The sound of their hearts fill the forest like a thousand drums. If you were to step onto the soil, you would find it viscous and yellow, like a foul-smelling sludge. Many things call such a place their home, large and small, and all of them would eagerly drain you of your very blood or devour you whole."

"Come on, now you're making things up," Thunderburst said. "Animal trees? Blood-sucking monsters? That's ridiculous."

Bear shrugged. "I can see how it would seem so to those who have never seen it, but I speak only the truth."

"We have dangerous creatures too. Hydras, dragons, that kind of thing."

"Yes, but you do not have Bem'balae in Everfree, and for that you should be thankful."

"Bem-what now?"

"A beast as tall as three huts that walks on three tall, slender legs, with six eyes that cover its circular body that hangs from the center of its legs, like a hub on a wagon wheel. It is fond of swallowing zebras whole. The sound of someone you know being slowly digested alive, screaming in agony and praying for death, as the creature stomps away, immune to your weapons...it is something I will never forget."

It was silent for a long time after that.

Bear slipped into the rhyming speak that was common to his people, as if reciting poetry from memory. "Across the lake you must not tread, for the forest does not give up its dead. Through the mists and fog our tribe stands guard; the hours long, the trials hard." He went back to his normal way of speaking, though he now had the attention of most of the Praetorians who listened in interest. "Among my tribe, it is believed that those lost to the forest return as tortured spirits, inhabiting the bodies of the terrible beasts that killed them and lashing out at the village. Only by destroying the creatures can we put their souls at rest." He smiled. "And you thought the Everfree forest was a dangerous place, yes?"

"Not anymore," Thunderburst answered sincerely. "Assuming you're not just yanking my prick, I have to say: I can't imagine living in a place like that. Who would possibly live there voluntarily?"

"In the old times, before the unification of the tribes, the creatures of the yellow forest would sometimes gather in great numbers and wander the land, devouring or killing any they came across. Our tribe was created to stop them, a task we have upheld for the last twelve generations."

"And that's what you did?"

"Yes. I destroyed many things, some of which would not believe if I told you."

Tercio turned back and spoke to Bear. "You have my respect. I am not sure I could have done such a thing."

"Is that why you left Zevran? Because you grew tired of fighting monsters?" Thunderburst asked.

Bear dipped his head, just slightly, and a shadow crossed his face as he seemed lost in memory for a brief time. "That is not why. I am afraid that is a very personal thing. I am sorry, but I cannot tell you more than that."

Thunderburst put a hoof on Bear's armored shoulder.

"Well for what it's worth, Bear, I'm glad you're with us. You're a good stallion." The others echoed his sentiment.

"Thank you, my friends. I am glad to be in Equestria, and honored to be among good company."

The sun was beginning to set when they finally caught sight of Canterlot in the distance. Tercio and the others gave sighs of relief now that their destination was no more than another couple of hours away. He would finally be able to get out of the damnable cold. A hot meal, followed by a hot bath -- that would be best. A hot bath with Celestia would be better...

"Everyone hold up," Stonewall ordered. Time to change out cart-pullers again. Iron Thresh and Frost Wind gladly unhooked themselves from the yoke. "Stop your whining, fillies, we're almost there. You can nurse your bumps and bruises once we're done. Centus, Cloudtop, you're up. Try to be careful of the pot holes this--"

A loud crack sounded from the right side of the formation, like a thunder clap, and as the Praetorians turned they were greeted by the sight of Iron Thresh being lifted into the air in a field of crackling, emerald-colored magic that arced over his armor and wrapped around him like writhing vines made of pure energy. Instinctively he called for help, only to have a long, jagged spear of glassy crystal puncture straight through his chest. He gave a pained grunt and thrashed his legs uselessly, and just as fast as he'd been lifted he was dropped to the ground, impaled half way up the weapon.

"Ambush!" someone yelled after a brief moment of shock. Nineteen blades were drawn from their sheathes in an instant, and a shield wall was hastily erected. A flight of arrows bounced off the wall or embedded themselves into the wooden fronts, and several crystalline spears dug themselves into the defensive line.

"Weapons front!" Stonewall shouted, peeking his head over the wall just long enough to get a survey of their attackers. Tall, lithe bodies clad in green, glassy armor. "Whitetail soldiers ahead!"

"What are the fucking whitetail doing here?" someone shouted over the sound of more arrows scattering off the shield wall.

"Nevermind that, keep that wall up!"

Tercio saw glimpses of them flitting between trees, perhaps fifty yards out. They were so fast! Was this what Victus had been fighting against for all these months?

The Praetorians were quick in assuming their three-tiered formation, with the hastati up front, their spears sticking out from between the small gaps in their shield wall, the principes behind them with their throwing pila at the ready, and the triarii in the back row with arrows nocked.

"Take aim!"

An obsidian-headed arrow pinged off Tercio's shield, slicing into the unprotected underside of his arm as it passed. Warm blood streamed down his arm, and he bit back a shout of pain.

"Release!"

On Stonewall's signal nearly a dozen arrows flew from the back of the formation, followed a split second later by half a dozen pila. The arrows struck home first; most of them had no effect, bouncing off whitetail armor, but a few found their mark, toppling deer where they stood. Soon after, the pila came down with their heavier, piercing impacts. Several whitetail fell, only to be quickly dragged off by the others.

"Formation, advance!"

Tercio kept himself low, ducking behind his shield as heavy impacts were thwarted by his tower shield. It felt like they were advancing for hours. Beside him, Polaris' shield was enveloped by green magic and ripped from his grasp. It tumbled end over end before slamming into a tree beyond the formation's reach. The others reacted quickly, closing the gap in the wall before the whitetail could take advantage of it, and Polaris fell back to the rear.

"Keep your wits about you, there's a skilled magic user out there!" Stonewall said over the sound of another volley of arrows being exchanged between the two sides

The deer were closer now, and Tercio could plainly see their features -- almost uniformly shades of brown with white spots, clad in green, crystal-like armor that glinted in the setting sun's light. How had they managed to get so far into Equestria? They shouted to one another in deertongue, at once oddly pleasing to listen to yet harsh in its tones.

"Felaniin, doer hashaan! Equestrii cal'inax!"

Something about their words caught Tercio's attention. Even as he obeyed the orders shouted by Stonewall he carefully listened to the enemy's own language. It was so...familiar.

"On my word, we're going to break ranks and charge, understood?!"

"HAH-OOH!" the Praetorians shouted, both a battle cry and an acknowledgement.

The whitetail seemed to be in disarray, their numbers scattered and attacking from poorly thought-out positions after the initial attack had failed. Stonewall meant to take advantage of their inexperience and finish them off.

"Kasaliiri Equestrii fien nicyys!"

"HWAH!"

More call-and-response by the whitetail. For all of their running around, they still sounded like a fighting unit. A small group of bucks, their tall antlers glowing with white and emerald magic, charged the formation. They carried deadly-looking spears and floated long, conical daggers, galloping at full speed at the shield wall. What could they possibly hope to accomplish against such a formation?

"Brace!" Stonewall ordered, and the Praetorians slammed their shields into the ground and leaned into them with their shoulders. Two of the bucks collided with the shield wall, their spears piercing straight through and puncturing the throats of two unfortunate ponies. The third deer lagged behind, and as his comrades fought against the wall he leapt into the air and was instantly lifted above the others in a crackling magical field, accompanied by a thunder crack. Surprised Praetorians lashed out with their spears, but could not reach him before he landed on his hooves behind them with his weapons at the ready. A stomp sent twin armor-blades locking into place, and a vicious trio of stabs caught Frost Wind in the right hind leg. The pegasus fell heavily to the snow-covered ground, grasping at his wound and yelling in pain. The whitetail soldier struck again, as quick as lightning. His quinn-blade punched through Frost Wind's torso armor, and a horrible, agonized shout was, for a brief time, the only thing Tercio could hear. He wanted to turn around and tear into the deer with his blade, but he had to trust the rear guard to do it for him. Keeping the shield wall together was the difference between life and death.

The whitetail wasted no time in attacking a new target, lashing out at Thunderburst in a ballet of swift, precise movements designed to keep the Praetorian off guard. Stonewall and Bear joined in from the deer's left side, thrusting spears that bounced off the rounded armor segments. It was soon four on one, but the deer was holding his own.

Tercio was immediately occupied by the deer in front of him, who had stepped aside after impaling Centus and was now intent on wearing him down. Blow after blow thwacked into his shield or was deflected by Nocturne, and the longer he fought the more he felt the magical blade conforming to his combat style. It made him strong, kept him focused, and every time he struck a successful slash and drew blood the weapon sent a jolt of warmth up his arm.

The buck spun around and kicked his hind legs into the shield, hard enough to dent the iron backing, but Tercio had been waiting for just such an opportunity. With all of his strength he lifted his shield , throwing the buck's legs into the air and exposing his belly. A vicious jab sent Nocturne through the deer's stomach, and Tercio pushed all the way to the hilt until the tip of the blade stuck through the front of its neck, gored from back to front. The deer convulsed and twitched as he withdrew the weapon, and a plunging death blow made sure there was one less whitetail soldier left in the fight. Nocturne glowed white for a brief second, and Tercio felt its vibrations -- it was pleased to have destroyed an enemy of Equestria.

Behind him, Stonewall and the others had finally managed to dispatch the deer warrior, and they rejoined the protection of the wall. There were still a good number of deer ahead of them, from what Tercio could see. How many had they brought? As one the Praetorians pushed forward again, releasing their last volley of pila and arrows.

By now the whitetail forces had retreated back to the edge of the forest. Equestria's finest soldiers would soon be forced to fight in terrain favorable to their enemies, and Tercio knew it. He swore under his breath. What choice did they have? They couldn't possibly allow the whitetail to escape, only to spring up somewhere else and cost more ponies their lives.

"Stay on your guard in there, and stick together!" Stonewall warned them, mirroring Tercio's own thoughts. Scattered arrows struck out to meet them, but the barrage was a fraction of its former strength. Rimeberry could be heard muttering to himself, chomping at the bit to finally break free from the wall and get into combat proper.

The forest was so close. They stepped over the bodies of dead whitetail and finished off those who were wounded and would not surrender. The Praetorians were ready.

"Praetoria Victor!" Stonewall yelled, hefting his bloodied weapon in the air.

"PRAETORIA VICTOR!"

At once the formation split in practiced precision, and Tercio and the others charged at full speed toward the waiting whitetail with fearsome battle shouts. This was what he lived for, the thrill of battle pumping through his veins, the sound of his brothers alongside him. Rage-words be damned -- he was going to cleave a path through the whitetail of his own accord!

The first deer to stand in his way had a look of genuine shock about him as the armor-clad human rammed into him with his tower shield, sending the whitetail sprawling against a tree. Tercio stabbed through him hard enough to embed Nocturne in the bark behind him, and as he withdrew his weapon he saw the others meeting the enemy head-on in violent clashes of steel, crystal and blood. A buck with tall antlers bounded at him from his left, narrowly missing his throat with its armor-blades. Tercio stepped back and deflected a trio of attacks with his shield, then brought Nocturne down with a vicious yell, slicing through antlers and severing the deer's head in a single attack.

A sharp pain bit into his shoulder from behind, and he wheeled around to find the offending whitetail withdrawing a conical quinn-blade. Enraged from the pain, he swung his shield around hard enough to crack bone and knock the enemy off his hooves, then slammed it down edge-on to crush the deer's throat in a shower of gore.

"Polaris, to your right!" he yelled above the din of combat, pointing to a deer warrior that was rapidly advancing on his comrade. Polaris acted quickly, yanking a pilum from a dead deer with his magic and hurling it into the chest of his would-be attacker. The deer tumbled to the ground, dead where he lay.

"My thanks, Tercio!"

Stonewall ran up and down the line, shouting encouragement to his soldiers. "No quarter! Hah-ooh!"

As far as Tercio was concerned, that was just fine. Anyone who dared attack Equestria, who dared kill his brothers, deserved to die. He would fight them to the last -- with his spear, with his sword, with his bare hands. A whitetail soldier barreled into him, knocking the magical blade from his hand and sending him to the ground, and he scrambled to cover himself with his shield. A glancing blow dug into his thigh, drawing a stream of blood. He managed to reach for the dagger tucked into the sheathe strapped to his leg, and he jammed it into the deer's throat over and over. The copper taste of blood met his lips and he spat it away as he pushed his defeated foe off of him.

Nocturne had landed on its side in the loose soil, a short distance away. Breathing heavily, and with pain shooting through his body, he limped over and reached for it.

He jerked to a stop. Green magic filled his vision and a booming clap of thunder sounded in his ears, and without warning he found himself flung through the air. Trees flitted past as he flew backwards and slammed into a tall oak with a clattering of armor, denting his helm and knocking the air from his lungs. Distantly, he was aware of someone shouting his name. A tall, lithe figure stepped before him as he drifted in and out of consciousness, pinned to the tree by magical forces. Tiny antler stubs, no more than a few inches, jutted from the top of the figure's head, glowing an emerald green.

"Let me get a good look at you, human." The voice was soft and sweet, decidedly feminine in nature. Tercio struggled to move his head, to move any part of himself, but it was useless. The doe had him paralyzed. How far had he been pulled from the others? Did they even know where he'd gone? "So this is what all the fuss is about. I must say, I was expecting something different."

"Let me go," he demanded through gritted teeth. The doe laughed.

"Oh I don't think that's going to happen, nesha'yyl. Your equine friends are of no concern, but you? There are deer who would pay very handsomely to see you brought before them on your knees. A wagon full of gold is nothing. I'll let the others deal with your...colleagues." She leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Coming across you was a happy coincidence." Slowly, she moved closer and kissed his cheek, then laughed to herself in accomplishment. "Come along, human. We have somewhere to be."

Tercio felt himself being lifted from the ground, and he managed to latch onto the tree trunk to stop from being carried off.

"Don't be difficult, nesha'yyl, or I won't be as gentle next time."

A jolt of electricity shot through him and he grunted in pain. "Go to hell."

"Perhaps one day. Until then..."

A sensation like a thousand needle points finally made him surrender his grip, and as thrashed in defiance as he was levitated beside the doe. She began to trot deeper into the forest with an amused grin.

"Tercio!" distant voices called. "Tercio, where are you?!"

He tried to shout back, but could do no more than whisper. All of his years of training, the countless hours of drills and sparring, and it all counted for naught. He had survived an attack on Canterlot, saved the Princess, fallen for her completely, and driven off whitetail attackers, only to be carried away by a doe as if he were a play thing. The more hopeless he felt, the more it burned inside him. Disappointment, anger, sadness...rage.

"No," he growled as another wave of electrical pain cut into him. "I will not be controlled..."

"What was that, love?" the deer said in a sickeningly sweet, mocking voice.

"You will not...control me..."

She giggled at the thought. "I'd say you're a little late on that. Come now, don't be difficult."

A red mist began to cloud his sight, swirling and solidifying until it tinted everything before him. He could feel the power inside of him, growing by the second. The blood dripping down his arm, covering his leg, staining his armor -- it drove him to a maddening frenzy. He wanted more, needed more. Flashes of combat filled his vision, gouts of blood and bright arterial sprays from sword and shield and spear.

All at once he found the magic enveloping his body to be a physical thing, forming and dissolving as he fought against it. He could see the lattice of ethereal energy, felt the bond it formed to the doe's vast power. It conformed to him like a tightly bound sheet, and as he focused on it the jagged, arcing power it began to ripple and coil in on itself.

The doe stopped, gasping at the sensation and putting a hoof to her head. "What are you doing?" she demanded, drawing a dagger from her leg scabbard. Tercio contorted and twisted as he gave himself freely to the unstoppable anger within, shouting with pain as it wracked his body and made him stronger. The doe sent shocks of agony through him, again and again, but he would not relent "Stop this at once or I will kill you right here, human! Do not think to test me!"

Tercio could not hear her words, nor could he feel the magical assault on his body. He was entirely focused on escaping, frantically searching the incorporeal spell for a weakness. He knew it was close, as if guided by an unseen hand.

There, above his chest. A tangled knot of light and energy. Something cold and sharp built in his mind, arcing through him and twitching his muscles. A thousand flashes of the magical point flooded his thoughts, and then, at once, joined into a single image.

He let out a deep, terrible yell and arched his back, and the emerald field collapsed in a flash of light, stumbling the doe as she yelled in pain and shock. Tercio fell to the ground, his breaths ragged and animalistic, and he pounded his fist on the ground as he pushed himself back to his feet. The doe managed a surprised yelp before he was upon her, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against a tree hard enough to crack her crystalline armor. She gagged and kicked as he began to squeeze the very life from her.

"Please...no..." she pleaded in a choked voice as she thrashed in his grip. The rage within him screamed for her blood, filled his mind with visions of her mutilated body slumping to the ground, his hands thick with her gore.

KILL HER. KILL HER. KILL HER. KILL HER.

The voice, his voice, echoed all around him until it was all he could hear. All he had to do was give in to the urge, and he could be unstoppable. Invincible. He could slaughter the whitetail. He could destroy everyone weak enough to think themselves his better -- deer, pony, it mattered not. He alone could reshape nations!

And then, as if in a dream, he saw the sparring ring from the mountain camp. Rimeberry was there with him, the sound of steel on steel echoing across the great expanse of wilderness untouched by civilization. He saw himself fighting against the darkness inside, felt the burning as Nocturne fought to keep him from losing his will. There was the blood lust, the insatiable need to slaughter his opponent, thick and heavy. But he fought back. He defeated it. It would not win, not ever again.

The doe was still in his grasp as he snapped back to consciousness; tears streamed down her face and her struggling grew weaker by the second. He looked her directly in the eyes, yelled in fury, and threw his fist forward.

It crunched into the tree bark beside her head and sent splinters of wood into his hand. There he stayed for several seconds, unmoving, before releasing the doe from his grip. She dropped to the ground and gasped for air, sobbing and choking, too weak to move or fight.

"Tercio!" Someone had found him, and they were close. He was sure of it. Galloping hoof beats came to a stop beside him. "Thank the gods you're alive! We feared the worst when you--"

Polaris drew his weapon and prepared to strike the very second he saw the deer.

"Wait!" Tercio said weakly. "Wait, Polaris -- don't kill her." Polaris didn't strike, but he didn't put down his weapon, either. "She'll be more valuable to us alive. Think of the intelligence should could provide."

"She's the one with the strong magic, isn't she?" Thunderburst asked, his armor caked in blood and dirt. "She killed Iron Thresh. Fuck her, she deserves to die!"

"Stand down, Thunderburst," Polaris said, lowering the Praetorian's weapon with his foreleg while sliding his own back into its scabbard. "That's quite enough for one day. Tercio's right; she may be able to tell us how such a large force of whitetail managed to travel so deeply inside Equestrian territory. She lives."

"Fuck you, and fuck her! No one--"

Polaris lifted Thunderburst by the collar with a flash of magic. "She lives, decanus. Do you understand?"

Thunderburst landed on his hooves and jerked away from Polaris. "Fine. Whatever you say. But she's still dangerous. You really wanna trot back to Canterlot for the next two hours with someone like her in our ranks?"

The doe had finally started breathing normally again, though she had not moved from her place on the wet ground.

"Tercio, it's your call. What do you suggest?"

He shot a glare at the doe, and she skidded back against the tree. Clearly she hadn't expected him to have a hope of escaping her, much less nearly squeezing the life from her with his hands. "Bind her legs and keep her in the dark. She will not be a further problem." He flexed his bloody hand into a fist, making sure she saw him do it. "If she tries anything she will find I am not so merciful after all."

Polaris motioned for several of the others to do as they'd heard, and he took Tercio aside several paces to speak. "Are you alright, my friend? We saw you disappear into the forest, but the damned whitetail were intent on keeping us from reaching you. We're lucky to have found you at all."

"I'm fine," Tercio said, pulling a length of bandages from a pouch at his side. It was a painful process, now that the adrenaline and rage had worn off. "I've been wounded, however. Thrice, at least. I do not believe it's serious, but it hurts like hell."

"So I imagine. You look like you just bathed in blood. Remove your armor and we'll staunch your wounds until you can be seen by a proper apothecary back in Canterlot." Tercio did as he was asked, wincing as his steel and gold segmented armor scraped against raw flesh. Even the soft touch of his purple cloak was painful. He sat on the ground with a sigh of relief. "Looks like you've got a gash on your arm, nothing too bad there. Nasty quinn-blade wound on your leg, though. Since you're not bleeding to death I'm assuming it didn't cut your artery. Superficial wound once we get it cleaned." Polaris unrolled his own bandage wrap and wrapped it tightly around Tercio's leg.

"I've another, in my shoulder. I don't think it went all the way through, but--"

"Shit," Polaris muttered as he stepped around to check. "I'm not gonna lie, it's deep. You're not going to bleed out immediately but it can't wait too long..." A slight touch of his hoof was all it took to send a surge of pain through Tercio's body, and he yelled out loud enough to draw the attention of the others for a brief moment. "Yeah...this is bad." Polaris whistled for two others to come over. Rimeberry and Bear were at his side soon after, searching through the medical bag they'd grabbed from the wagon.

"Hang on there, brother," Rime said. Tercio noticed he was wounded as well, a gash along his side where a blade had found a gap in his armor. "Go help out the others with that doe, would you, Polaris?"

Polaris nodded. "Of course." A strong magic user was not something to take lightly.

Tercio pointed to the dark cut on Rime's side. "You're hurt?"

"I'll live. Compared to that son of a whore in the crystal cave this was like fighting a bunch of amateurs."

"I'm all too aware," Thunderburst added, lifting his wooden foreleg. "At least he didn't take my wings, eh?"

"Shoulda taken your tongue, if you ask me."

"You're too kind, Rime."

Rimeberry laughed despite his surroundings. "Yeah, I know. Put some pressure on that wound, would ya?"

Tercio did not enjoy the sensation of an open wound being held down with what felt like a blacksmith's anvil heated to red-hot, but he knew he didn't have a choice. He gritted his teeth and asked, "did we get them all?"

"The whitetail? Yeah, that we did. Fucked those deer bastards up. Your doe friend there," Rimeberry jerked his head in her direction, "is the only survivor."

"Weren't there -- argh, gods damn this pain! -- others who asked for mercy?"

"A few did not wish to die and surrendered," Bear answered, "but I am afraid we could not administer aid before the battle was over. Their wounds were grievous."

Rimeberry pulled two small pouches full of some kind of powders from the medical bag. "Some of the whitetail cowards tried to run, but Stonewall was a step ahead. He and a hoof-full of others had flanked around behind the deer early on. He cut 'em off and cut 'em down."

"Old stallion's still got it," Tercio said.

"That he does." Rimeberry grabbed a twig from a nearby tree, about as long as Tercio's hand, and wrapped it in cloth. "Bite down on this. This stuff I've got here will stop you from bleeding out, but it's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch. Trust me on this one. Bear, when I tell you to, you're gonna lean into Tercio with all of your strength. Keep him sitting up, got it? Good." For the first time, Rimeberry looked apologetic. "Sorry, brother."

Reluctantly, Tercio bit down on the wrapped twig and waited. "Just be done with it."

Behind Tercio's back, Rimeberry mixed the two powders together. Small wisps of smoke rose from his hoof, and he nodded to Bear. The zebra threw himself into Tercio and dug his hooves into the wet soil just as Rimeberry clapped the mix of smoking powder into Tercio's wound.

Tercio jerked, then yelled out as the mix of black and white powders ignited, cauterizing the wound and staunching the flow of blood. The pain was immense, worse than the stab of the quinn-blade itself had been, and it burned like an iron poker heated in a forge.

"Hold on, brother, hold on..."

Rimeberry added his own, not insignificant weight to Bear's in an effort to keep Tercio from thrashing around and reopening the wound before it could close. Long seconds passed before the worst of the pain subsided, and Tercio spat out the wrapped twig. He'd bitten down hard enough to break it in two different places. Tears had mixed with the blood and dirt on his face; he was glad Celestia wasn't around to see him in such a state.

"You alright?" Rimeberry asked, checking to make sure the bleeding had stopped.

"I never want to do that again," Tercio replied half-jokingly. He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand just as Stonewall came trotting over.

"Good to see you yet live, Krosus," he said. The Imperator's armor was almost completely red along one side, from crested helm to flank guard, staining and matting his cloak. "Don't worry about me, that's not my blood. How do you fare?"

"I've been better," Tercio said. "Damned whitetail got a few pieces of me out there. Almost got carried off by her." The doe who had given him so much trouble was now firmly tied and had a cloth bag draped over her head. She wouldn't be going anywhere. "I've never seen such magic."

Stonewall grumbled. "We were lucky there was only one. A doe like her is worth half a dozen bucks in combat, or at least a few stags. Polaris says you want her taken in for interrogation."

"That would be best, I think. I'm eager to know how and why the whitetail were so far from the border."

"Then that makes two of us. Smart thinking, Krosus."

"Thank you, sir."

Stonewall yanked on a cord at his side, and a long, wrapped bundle fell from a loop on his saddle bag. "I believe this belongs to you."

Tercio grabbed the cloth bag and managed a weak smile through the pain. He'd almost lost Nocturne on his first encounter. It was pleased to have returned to him, and he could hear a quiet hum of energy as he brushed his hand against the metallic grip.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, then slid the magical blade into its sheathe at his side. "Sir, how many did we lose in the fight?"

"Five," Stonewall frowned. "Iron Thresh, Frost Wind, Palaenius, Haftus, and Cinder Sage. Damned shame..." A quarter of their number, gone in minutes. The survivors were too exhausted or too injured to grieve; that would come later. "We made the cowardly tree-rutters pay, though. They payed dearly. By our last count we took out at least thirty of their own, possibly more. I'm going to request that Canterlot and the surrounding area be put on high alert for the time being, once we return. Can't be too careful with the whitetail sneaking around." Stonewall offered a hoof and helped Tercio to his feet. "We'll get you looked at once we're within the palace gates. Go take a seat on the wagon, I don't want you opening that wound again. We'll gather our dead and be on our way."

Tercio gathered his armor and saluted weakly. Stonewall returned the formality.

"You fought well today, Krosus. I'm proud of you."

With his gear tucked under his arm Tercio hobbled to the wagon, stepping around bodies of dead Praetorians and whitetail soldiers alike. He'd been lucky, and the only thing he could think of was the others who hadn't been. He would celebrate their lives in due time. For now, he wished more than anything he was home.

For the first time in many nights, Princess Celestia had to worry once more about the whitetail. Not since the start of the war had they been spotted in Equestrian territory, and never so close to the capital. Where had they come from? How did they know the wagon carrying stolen valuables was traveling the roads from Dragon Crest? There were too many questions, and almost no answers. The interrogation of the whitetail doe -- Alinalyys, she'd said her name was -- had revealed only that she was picked by an officer in their military to lead the small group, and even then, she had admitted that gold coins were far less of a prize than taking Tercio alive.

"He is known to many soldiers and officers," the doe had told Celestia. "There is a great reward for his capture."

Level-headed though Celestia liked to think she was, the thought of someone carrying Tercio off like a trophy infuriated her. She had not even had the chance to see him since his return, as he'd been taken to the apothecaries by his comrades as soon as he'd arrived. Hopefully he would be alright.

She'd had to step away for several minutes before she could return to speak with Alinalyys once more. It became clear after some time that the prisoner did not know much else about the inner workings of the Whitetail armies beyond the typical rank structures and formation sizes that were common knowledge to Equestria's leaders already. Disappointed and frustrated, Celestia had left the prison cells with more questions than she'd entered with. The doe would remain in their custody until the end of the war, under heavy guard by the best of the palace's magic users, with the promise of a more comfortable cell if she told her captors anything of value before then.

Too tired to think on it any more, but unable to sleep, Celestia had chosen to remain in her chambers and pass the time with some light reading -- plays from old playwrights of her youth, great poems of adventure and intrigue. Some of the dusty tomes were marked with blue ink in the margins; notes and musings from Luna, written in ancient Equestrian, during her many years of royal studies. Inside the front cover of an old history book, a simple drawing of the sisters caught her eye, created with the charming simplicity of a child's mind. "Lulu", the crude letters spelled above a blue scribble that vaguely resembled an alicorn. Next to it, a pink scribble with a tiny crown. "Tia". It took her back; back to the grand castle in the Everfree forest, to the library filled with every subject imaginable, to the countless nights spent playing in the courtyard while their parents sat on the balcony and shared stories of their own childhoods. It had been so long...

"Princess?" Someone called to her from the doorway. She'd forgotten to close them again. "My most sincere apologies for interrupting you, Your Highness, but I have an urgent delivery for you." The Royal Guardspony bowed and produced a small, wrapped package from a saddle bag.

"It's alright," she reassured him. "Please, come in. What do you bring?"

"I cannot say for sure, I was told it was to be delivered to you unopened. Imperator Scorpius from the 19th Royal Guard found it while sorting through the wagon brought in by the Praetorians several hours ago. He says there was a note attached to it, from a Decanus Victus Krosus in the 44th Legion. It was to be given to you at the first available opportunity."

Tercio's brother? A Legionary contacting the palace without going through a superior officer was an unusual occurrence at best. Whatever it was, it must have been important.

"Thank you, Quintus," she said, taking the package with her magic. The guard saluted and returned to his post, and Celestia shut her doors to be sure of privacy. The wrapped bundle was small and plain, the size of her hoof, and tied with twine. She pulled it open and a small object tumbled out. As she levitated it before her she read a folded note that had come with it.

"Princess -- myself and a few others have been investigating, and fighting against, the Nightmare Moon cults for the past several months. During a recent raid on a supply caravan we happened upon a young fawn who had been taken slave by the cultists, as well as further proof of connections between the cult and the whitetail military itself."

Celestia remembered the young whitetail -- Aliis, was his name -- and had spoken with him briefly before he was given to a foster family. She hoped he was doing well.

"The fawn gave us this pendant as a reward for rescuing him. He believed it to be a shiny bauble, but myself and the others recognized it for what it truly was: a way for the cults to communicate with Nightmare Moon herself. We have not been able to figure out how to use it, but perhaps you will find a way, so that we may use it against them. May you remain in good health. The Legion is with you. - Victus Krosus"

Celestia had heard of these pendants before, but she had never seen one. A way to commune with her fallen sister? Such a thing could not possibly exist, she was sure of it. And yet, even if it were a remote possibility, she had to try.

The pendant was ornately carved from what appeared to be ivory, circular in design, with a deer and a pony chasing one another around a central star made of orange crystal. It looked familiar, almost exactly like...

She gasped, nearly dropping it to the floor. She hoped she was wrong, wished for it more than anything as she frantically searched through her cabinets. It had to be a mistake, a coincidence!

There, under a stack of scrolls, tucked into the corner of a drawer, was the pendant's twin. She held them up, studied them intently under candle light. They were the same, down to every little detail. Dizzy with the realization, she sat on her bed and tried to find a reason, any reason, for it to not be true.

But it was. The new pendant was an exact match to the one given to her, so many months ago, as a harmless gift by--

"...Elinwynn?"

29 - The Outcast

Chancellor Vinawyll was not typically known for his anger. The head of the Whitetail government liked to be seen as calm and collected, even in the worst of times, so as to serve as a pillar of strength and resolve for his people. The military, the senate, the very citizens of his nation relied on him. At the moment, none of that mattered.

"Ancestors damn these incompetent fools! I hope and pray with every ounce of my body that they shall know no rest in the afterlife!"

A table full of fruit and wine was upended and thrown across the room, crashing into the wall under a magical torch. In the center of the Chancellor's chambers a lone stag stood at prompt attention, not daring to look his superior in the eyes. Years of abuse at the hooves of his own officers had given the commander apt practice in the art of maintaining appearances. On the inside, however, he sweated and cursed and worried like any other.

Vinawyll approached and shoved a hoof against Brother-Commander Tarsalonis' armored chest. "I gave you a single order, Brother-Commander! A single command! How could you possibly fail so miserably as to cost us not only the target, but thirty of our finest soldiers?!"

"We underestimated the Equestrians, Honorable Chancellor, sir."

"Oh. Oh, I see. You underestimated them. In that case, I suppose all is forgiven. After all, it's not as if we've been 'underestimating' the Equestrians for the last six fucking months! They are on our doorstep and still this is the excuse I'm given?!" Tarsalonis remained silent. Nothing he could have said would have possibly assuaged Vinawyll's rage. "I was assured that a force of thirty bucks and a single doe was all that would be required to carry out the mission! And who was it, Brother-Commander, who assured me?"

"I did, sir."

"You did! And what do we have to show for it in return? Five dead Praetorians, a captured Sister-Magi, a wagon full of gold and jewels lost to Equestria's coffers, and a pile of our own dead! Have you any idea how expensive it is to hire a caravan to smuggle out a creature twice the size of an Equestrian, only to have it find the agreed-upon location full of bodies?! That is coin we'll never see again!"

"Honorable Chancellor, our spies report that the human was stronger than we'd anticipated. Magical afterglow from the battle shows a power far beyond our previous assumptions, neither deer nor pony in origin. Clearly this...human...is resistant to our magics."

"Well then, we picked a great fucking time to find out, didn't we?"

Vinawyll paced back and forth beside a large map. Equestrian units hadn't moved for some time, but it was not for lack of strength. Their forces only continued to grow, even as scroll after scroll arrived from Princess Celestia urging him to speak with her. Were he the only deer in a position of power in Whitetail, he likely would have taken the offer. But doing so now was tantamount to suicide; the senate thought him a bumbling idiot, and the people of Whitetail still believed the war to be winnable. No, surrender would lead only to a dagger in his throat in the middle of the night.

"You are lucky, Brother-Commander, that I am a merciful leader. I ought to have you executed for incompetence or thrown into Cervidae's combat rings for such repeated failures, but we are taxed far too seriously to throw yet another senior officer away. Leave me, and return to your post. Do not think to try me again."

Relieved, Tarsalonis bowed deeply and saluted. "Yes, Honorable Chancellor, sir. Thank you, sir."

Chancellor Vinawyll did not allow himself to be calm until he was alone. Exhausted, frustrated, and frail from barely eating, he sat against the railing of his private balcony and wondered what there was left for Whitetail now. Capturing the human -- Tercio, he remembered -- was to be his one, last act of defiance to Celestia's inevitable victory. The human enjoyed a place of power in their military, and had become somewhat of a hero after defeating the assassin during the attack on Canterlot in the early days of the war. Rumor had it he was romantically involved with someone of import, but Vinawyll supposed he would never know for sure now -- without the human in his custody he held no power over any potential negotiations. He could feel his nation shrinking around him, slowly strangling the life out the capital, and he feared there would be no Whitetail left after the war claimed him and everyone he knew.

Dejected, he opened his chamber doors. A frightened orderly stood at the end of the hallway, plainly terrified after hearing the Chancellor unleash his frustrations on the officer. Vinwyall wouldn't have been surprised to learn half of Whitetail had heard him.

"You, boy. Come here."

The young buck approached cautiously, quill and parchment floating beside him. "Y-Yes, Honorable Chancellor? How...how may I serve you?"

"Brother-General Corvalix is scheduled to arrive no more than one week from today. Do you know of him?"

The orderly hesitated as he struggled to recall the name, then nodded. "Of course, Honorable Chancellor..."

"Good. Until he arrives I am assigning you to the city's gates, where you will give Corvalix a message. This message is very important, and it cannot be written down. Can I count on you to deliver it verbatim?"

"Yes, Honorable Chancellor. What do you wish me to say?"

Vinawyll could hardly believe himself as the thought entered his mind. From this moment on, he knew, history would judge him in cruel words, and the legacy of his once proud family would be dashed to ribbons. To carry through with such a thing would mark him as a coward before the damnable senate, but if it meant saving Whitetail...

"Tell him...tell him I accept his offer, and he is to meet with me at his earliest convenience. He will know what it means."

The orderly repeated his words back to him and saluted, and Vinawyll was once more left to his own thoughts. A cold gale brought with it thick, black storm clouds as he placed his head in his hooves, but not even it could match the chill that gripped his spine. There would be no turning back now.

"Looks like you're healing well enough, but you must make absolutely sure to apply this medicinal salve thrice daily. You're going to be left with some scarring but it shouldn't be too bad if you follow instructions." The apothecary produced a decanter of thick, red liquid and passed it to Tercio, who stuffed it into his bag. Spending the night under nearly constant supervision by the medicae staff had been tiring and sometimes painful, thanks to the wounds he'd received in combat. At least he wouldn't have to worry about it for too much longer. "Oh, and try to avoid any unnecessary strain on your shoulder, or you may start bleeding again."

Tercio thanked the old stallion and assured him he would take care of himself while he was away.

"Princess Celestia wishes to speak with you in private. I need to stock up on a few things so I'll leave you to it. If the area around your shoulder or thigh turns red and swollen, please consult with myself or one of the other apothecaries immediately. Honor to the Princess."

Tercio returned his salute. "Honor to the Princess."

The smell of cleansing potions and healing salves stung his nose whenever he breathed in deeply, and in the distance he could hear other Praetorians quietly moaning in pain. Some of them had suffered very serious wounds and, though their survival was very likely, the process of healing would not be quick or easy. He felt sympathy for them and wished them the best, but he couldn't wait to get out of the medicae building as quickly as possible.

He did not have to wait long for his visitor to arrive. Celestia's approach could be heard from some distance away; her soothing voice sounded through the marble halls as she briefly stopped to console the wounded, and the unmistakable clack of her golden shoes on the tiles grew ever closer.

Finally she appeared in the doorway, her mane flowing behind her and glittering in the early morning sunlight. She looked every bit as regal as he remembered, and when she spoke it was more comforting than any apothecary could have ever hoped to be.

"Hello, Tercio," she said with a light smile.

"Princess," Tercio spoke in return, being careful to sound formal and respectful. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"I thought I would check in on you. Would you mind speaking in private?" A sly grin tugged at her cheeks.

"Not at all. Please, come in."

Celestia briefly looked around, then closed the door quietly. As soon as she did Tercio stood up from his cot and stepped toward her, throwing an arm around her neck and pulling her into him with the other. She gave a quiet, surprised yelp and giggled as she returned the favor, meeting him in a loving kiss that lingered for what felt like far too short of a time.

"I'm so glad you're alive," she whispered, caressing him with a gentle touch. "When the caravan arrived and they escorted you to the medicae building, I feared..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

"It's alright," he reassured her, pressing his forehead against hers. "I promise you I am in no further danger." Celestia gasped as she noticed the bandages wrapped tightly around his shoulder and arm, dyed pink from blood. "It's not as bad as it looks. The whitetail got a few pieces of me," he said as he twisted to show similar wrappings on his thigh, "but they are merely superficial. I will be fine, thanks to some quick thinking by my brothers and the work of the apothecaries."

Celestia embraced him once more and managed a smile despite the tears of relief in her eyes. "You worry me so. Do you know that?"

"It comes with the territory, I'm afraid. If you are looking for 'safe' then I believe a Praetorian might not be the best choice for your romantic interests."

"And yet, here you are," she answered.

"Here I am. It will take more than a few murderous deer to take me away from you, I can promise you that." Standing there with her, he decided she had never looked more beautiful. He had been exceptionally lucky to have returned at all, and he knew it would be best to not reveal how close he had come to being dragged away -- or what had happened to prevent it. He'd been so close to never feeling the warmth of her touch or the thrill of her kiss, and his body ached for her at the thought of it.

She was plainly exhausted, even though she hid it well. No doubt she had had a sleepless night, be it from worry for him or the myriad other problems facing Equestria. He wanted to simply be with her and comfort her for as long as she needed, but he knew he couldn't.

"I love you," she said quietly.

"I love you too, Celestia," he said as he brushed her mane from her face. She smiled, as bright as the sun itself, and sat down beside him on the cot. "How do the others fare? Have we lost any more?"

"Thankfully not, the healers have done a remarkable job. Your friends seem in high spirits despite their injuries. I only wish we could have saved everyone."

"An unfortunate reality of this war," he said. "They were good stallions, all of them. It's hard to believe they're gone, and to such treachery." He remembered the doe who had tried to take him away, and how he had very nearly killed her before fighting back against the darkness inside. "The whitetail captive, is she...?"

"She is alive," Celestia said. "Alinalyys is her name. She has proven to be surprisingly open in her sharing of knowledge, but unfortunately it appears she doesn't know much of value. So far we have only been able to gather that she and the others were sent to...to take you away." Her voice faltered as she spoke of such a thing. She knew about it after all. "I do not know why the leaders of the Whitetail armies have taken such an interest in you."

"Neither do I, but so long as I draw breath they will not find me easy prey. Our captive can attest to that." He remembered the wagon, full of valuables. "Have we sorted through the goods stolen from Equestrian homes?"

"For the most part, yes. Obviously there are some issues with ponies claiming to have lost more than they had in the first place, and more than one fight has broken out over grudges with neighbors or family members, but I believe we'll have everything sorted before long."

"Was there anything of particular note? The whitetail committed too strong of a force to simply want to take me away. If that was their only goal they could have waited until I was more vulnerable."

Celestia thought of the twin pendants now kept in a box far from anything else, away from any place of import. Their true purpose remained unknown until she could devote the time to figuring them out. For a moment she considered telling Tercio about them, but thought it better to keep such a thing to herself for the time being. He had been through so much, and with his leave coming up so quickly she did not want to burden him with anymore worries than he might already have.

"Some missives to family and friends, undelivered scrolls, bits and baubles the whitetail thought valuable for whatever reason. Nothing truly unexpected."

"Hmm. Perhaps it was nothing more than convenience that drove them to attack both myself and the wagon at the same time. Clearly they underestimated us." Tercio was quiet for a time as he remembered the blood and confusion of battle, the fear and anger of it all. He wished he could forget. "Princess, do you know if I am still to return to Summervale today?"

"You are," she nodded. "The apothecary tells me you're fine for light travel. To that end, you and several others will be officially relieved of duty for the next ten days by Stonewall, just after your afternoon meal."

Tercio sighed in relief. "Thank you. Some time home will do a great deal of good. I can only imagine Mother's reaction to my injuries, however..." He touched a hand to Celestia's chest and said, "you should come with me."

The Princess smiled sympathetically. "I wish that I could, my love, but you know as well as I do that it's not likely."

"Why not? Surely the ruler of Equestria is entitled to a few days of respite. I doubt the palace would come crashing to the ground in your absence."

She laughed. "I am sure everything would be fine, but I am far too busy to consider time away from my duties. If we were at peace I would gladly join you, but since we're not..."

Tercio had known it was unlikely, but it was still disappointing. "I was looking forward to seeing Mother's reaction when I introduced you as the mare I'd fallen for," he said with a thin smile.

"Oh dear, I hadn't even considered that," Celestia said, giggling at the thought. "That may be an awkward moment. We'll travel together soon, once this war is over. I promise."

"I hope so." Sunlight streamed in through the open window as it peeked over the top of the mountains. It wouldn't be long before he was on his way home. "Will you stay with me, Celestia? Even if it's only for a short time? I may not see you again before I return, and I would like to remember your touch when I am away."

Celestia laid down beside him, letting him rest his head against her shoulder, and she gently kissed his forehead. "Of course I will. Enjoy your time back home, and cherish the moments you spend with your family. I will still be here when you return." Even then, she could not escape her thoughts of Whitetail, of Luna, of the countless ponies who looked to her for guidance in their time of need, and she wished her life was simple again.

Under ideal conditions, the trip from Canterlot to Summervale could be completed in the better part of a day. With snowfall up to his ankles, however, Tercio found the roads back to his childhood home less than ideal. Winter had arrived in Equestria, and it had made its presence known with a thick blanket of snow that now covered half of the lands from the western border to the Sea of Lights.

Here and there he managed to catch a ride on a wagon heading his direction, but those were few and far between. Several miles still awaited him as night began to fall. He cursed the weather for prolonging his journey, continuing until he found a small inn near a well-traveled fork in the road. It was a simple building, earthen in color with a thatched roof, and a weather-worn sign post announced its name -- The Sanaliis -- to weary travelers. Deciding it was the best he was going to find, Tercio ducked into the doorway and removed his heavy winter coat.

The inn was mostly empty, with a few patrons scattered about, minding their own business and sipping at drinks in wooden mugs. A fireplace crackled on the far wall, a cooking pot hanging over the flames. No one seemed to pay him any particular attention, giving only cursory glances. Glad to be out of the cold, he sat on a large cushion next to a low bar decorated with carved figurines, removing his gear bag with a sigh of relief and setting it beside him.

"Welcome, andwyyn," a heavily accented voice said as he heard a door swing open. "You are perhaps looking for a place to rest, yes?"

"Unfortunately," Tercio answered, quickly checking through his bag to make sure nothing had fallen out during the long walk. "Damned roads are a mess. Would prefer to be out of the cold before--"

The tall, lithe figure of a deer stood over him, dark brown in color with off-white spots and tall antlers decorated with short, golden chains and dangling emerald trinkets. Instinctively Tercio made to grab for his dagger, but stopped himself before he did anything foolish.

"Before the harsh night comes?" the deer finished for him, giving no indication that he'd noticed.

"Yes," he said cautiously. "I will likely need a bed for the night."

"Fala'niin! You are fortunate, then, that I have rooms available. Only twelve bits per night. But first, we must relieve you of the tiresome road." The deer floated the lid from the cooking pot, scooping a good-sized bowl of a hearty-looking stew and setting it down at the low bar. A hunk of bread and a mug of steaming liquid joined it, and he offered it to Tercio with a curt nod. "For you, andwyyn, this food is free."

"Thank you..." Tercio took the bowl and stirred it with a wooden spoon. It looked like any ordinary stew, full of carrots, celery, onion, and chunks of potato, and a few other patrons were clearly just fine as they ate, but it could still be a trick. The whitetail had a price on his head, after all, and what better way to drag him away than to slip something into his food or drink? Still, his stomach protested loudly as he realized he hadn't eaten since much earlier in the day, and he took a spoonful into his mouth. It wasn't food made for royalty, but it was filling and warmed his insides, and that was good enough.

"It is to your liking?"

Tercio washed it down with a sip of oddly-scented, yet familiar liquid. It tasted of cinnamon, anise and fruit, with an alcoholic bite at the back of his throat. "This is very good, thank you," he finally said, then presented a closed fist to the deer. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Tercio."

"Do not worry, Sir Tercio," the deer said as he returned the favor with a bump of his hoof, "you are not the first to be worried about a whitetail in Equestria in these times. My name is Glindraanis, and it is a pleasure to have you in my establishment."

Tercio frowned at his own behavior. Perhaps he'd been too obvious, and harsh, in his judgment after all. Considering several whitetail had tried to kill or capture him just a few days ago, he supposed he had the right to be nervous. "You own this place?" he asked.

"I do indeed. Fortunate that it is here, or you would be traveling in the snow for some time, yes? Do not worry about the meal, soldiers always eat free here. It is my way of repaying you for what you do. Without you and your comrades, after all, I would be yet another refugee fleeing the invasion." Glindraanis pointed to the gear bag at Tercio's side. "You are a...Praetorian? That is the word?"

"It is, and I am. You have a sharp eye, my friend." He dug into his bowl once more as he talked with the surprisingly friendly whitetail. A few more sips and he finally placed the flavor of the drink -- opal berry, but made into some sort of mulled wine.

The deer smiled. "It does not take a sharp eye to find a purple cloak in a brown bag. I have heard tale of the Praetorians fighting during the attack on Canterlot. You are far braver than I, andwyyn."

"Andwyyn," Tercio repeated to himself. "You keep calling me that. What does it mean?"

"It is Whitetail for...I suppose 'friend' would be closest, though it is not a direct match. Less than family, more than acquaintance, perhaps."

"Oh," Tercio said in surprise, "well, thank you. That's kind of you."

"Anyone who steps into my home is andwyyn, be they pony or deer. We are all Equestrians, yes?"

"That we are. I must say, I've never seen a whitetail-run inn during my travels; I imagine things must be...difficult these days."

Glindraanis shrugged, probably having heard the same issue time and again. "I have lived in Equestria most of my life. I was born in Whitetail, yes, but we moved here when I was very young. This place, it is my home, and though I sometimes receive baseless threats I have never truly felt in danger from other Equestrians." He frowned and said, "such a thing cannot be said for ponies living in Whitetail, not since the start of the war. I have heard rumors of deportations, or even executions, especially with Equestria poised to win the war in short order. Dra'liithe, but it makes me ashamed to be a whitetail."

"Let us hope this damned conflict ends soon then. I've shed enough blood, both my own and my enemy's, for one life time."

Glindraanis took the bowl and mug as soon as Tercio was finished, then swept a small collection of coins into a drawer as payment for the room. "You are far from home still?"

"Not too far, fortunately. Summervale."

"Ah, I know of this place. Quite beautiful. Please, if you ever happen to pass by the Sanaliis in your travels again, do not hesitate to come in. It is the least I can do."

"Thank you," Tercio said, bowing his head with a hand over his chest. "I truly appreciate the hospitality." He gathered his bag and slung it over his shoulder. A warm bed sounded increasingly welcome with his stomach full and his muscles aching. "Oh, I forgot to ask: what does sanaliis mean?"

The deer smirked at the question. "It means 'outcast'. It is the word the whitetail use for ones such as myself. I am an outcast for choosing to live in Equestria. It is meant to be an insult, but, as you can see by the sign, I wear it with pride. I will not be associated with those who would judge me so. When this war is over, there will be a great many more sanaliisi, I think."

If there was a Whitetail left at all.

"Have a restful night, andwyyn, and tell your brothers they are always welcome here."

30 - Protectorate

Brother-General Corvalix held little love for his whitetail cousins, and less so for their inept leader. Upon his arrival to Evinwiir he'd been immediately set upon by Chancellor Vinawyll's lackey, who had said only that the good Chancellor had chosen to accept Corvalix's offer. He'd wanted to laugh himself sick at how easy it all was, at how right his sister had been. Vinawyll truly was a coward, just as he'd predicted, and with the nation of Whitetail itself dangling on the precipice of destruction -- both from the inside as well as the outside -- all it would take was a slight shove in either direction to bring the whole country crashing down. Corvalix intended that direction to be in Cervidae's favor.

Now, as he approached Vinawyll's private chambers, he allowed himself a satisfied grin. He could imagine the Chancellor frantically pacing around his opulent quarters, empty jugs of amasec and red wine scattered about like discarded toys of a spoiled child. He would not have to wait long.

"You requested my presence, Chancellor?" Corvalix called through the door with a rap of his hoof. There was a sound like a shuffling of papers, and the door swung open in a cloud of crackling energy. Stepping inside, he found Vinawyll hunched over a stack of missives and scrolls. The Chancellor looked bedraggled and exhausted, and great bags appeared under his eyes as he looked up at Corvalix with whatever confidence he could muster.

"Sit down, Brother-General," Vinawyll said. He stared in silence for some time, tapping his hoof on the table. "You already know why I've called upon you. Please allow me a modicum of respect, and do not feign ignorance."

You deserve no more respect than the disgusting politicos in the Senate, Corvalix thought. At least the soldiers of Whitetail made themselves useful in combat. "You've accepted my proposal, then? This is good news."

Vinawyll laughed bitterly. "Good news? You'll excuse me if I fail to see anything good about this mess. Our military is defeated, our nation is in a barely-controlled panic, and now -- ancestors help me -- I have to rely on Cervidae to drag us from the fire. So no, this is not 'good news.' I will be mocked endlessly once the Senate finds out..." He motioned to a stack of off-white scrolls bound with red ribbon and stamped with the seal of Equestria. "Do you know what these are? They are pleas from Princess Celestia to meet with her to discuss terms of surrender. Our surrender. I have received at least two a day, every day, for the last month."

"Persistent, isn't she?" Corvalix quipped.

"To say the least. I show these to you, Brother-General, because I wanted you to know that my decision is not one that I make lightly. Our lands may remain mostly intact if we gave in, but I would be labeled a coward and a traitor."

"So you will be shamed if you ask for my help...but you will also be shamed if you surrender to Equestria?" Corvalix prodded, slightly confused at the situation. "Excuse me for failing to see the difference, Chancellor."

Vinawyll smirked. "In one of these scenarios I retain a chance to remain in power, and possibly -- hopefully -- see my actions justified by the history texts. In time, I may even be seen as a hero. 'The reuniter of Deerkind', or some-such grandiose title. Such are my hopes, anyway."

"And in the other scenario?"

"Whitetail surrenders for the first time in its history, and my rule comes to an end as I drown in my own blood with an assassin's quinn-blade drawn across my throat."

"I see," Corvalix said simply. Self-preservation -- that's what this was all about. Vinawyll didn't truly care about his ancestry or public opinion. No, he cared only for his own, meager life. Were he in charge of Cervidae, Corvalix would have slit his throat himself. As far as he was concerned, cowards had no place being in positions of power. It was fortunate, then, that Vinawyll meant nothing in the long run. Let him dance about like a puppet on a string, so sure of his own power. He would be a figurehead, and a useful one at that. At least, so long as Elinwynn saw fit to keep him alive.

"I will have to discuss this with Empress Elinwynn. My beloved sister is a kind, generous soul, but she does not make such decisions without meticulous planning."

"As is to be expected of the great Empress," Vinawyll said. "But you're sure Cervidae can be of assistance? You must understand: once these things have been set in motion, there can be no stopping them. I need to be sure of victory, without fail."

"Then rest easy, Chancellor, for the Cervidaen Hegemony does not back down from a fight." Already the gears were turning in Corvalix's mind, drawing forth battle plans for the defeat of Equestria. Such a thing would not be easy. "And what of the Senate? Though I may not know them as closely as you do, I do not believe they will react kindly to such news. Cervidae and Whitetail, fighting alongside one another like in the days of old? Unheard of."

"Let me worry about the Senate," Vinawyll snapped back. "You have your task, such as it is, and I trust you to carry it out to the fullest of your abilities. How much time will you need?"

"No more than a few weeks. Our forces have been on high alert since the start of this war; after all, one can never truly know the extent of Equestrian treachery. "

"If only we had known that before haphazardly invading without the proper build-up..."

"Then learn from your mistakes, Chancellor. And if you value Whitetail, do not repeat them." Corvalix stood from his seat and bowed. "I must return to Cervidae as soon as possible. I will return in one week's time, and together we will persuade the Senate to see the light. And they will see it."

"And if they don't?" Vinawyll asked.

"Then they will find themselves the unfortunate victims of progress."

As the doors closed behind him Brother-General Corvalix felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. The simpleton had played right into his hooves. Elinwynn had been right all along: the Chancellor was a fool and a coward, more than willing to sacrifice countless whitetail lives to save himself. For a moment Corvalix felt something resembling pity for his whitetail cousins -- but only for a moment. They would serve their purpose in due time. For now, he was content with returning to Cervidae to bring the good news to his sister. He could already see the look on her face.

Summervale was not living up to its sunny namesake, but it was of little concern to Tercio -- the snow, the biting cold, the wind, none of it mattered. As soon as the familiar silhouette of his childhood home came into view, he thought only of seeing his family. It had been too long.

He trudged through the ankle-deep snow, passing by wilted trees and barren fields that had been picked clean by the harvest. Thin wisps of smoke drifted from the chimneys around him. He could almost feel the warmth and comfort of the fireplace in the kitchen, and he remembered times when he and his family would gather around and listen to their father tell one of his many tall tales. It pushed him to carry on, through the snow-swept drifts and the haze of blowing snow.

It took only a few more minutes to reach the porch of the two-story home, the covered awning providing a welcome shelter from the wind. Nervous and thrilled to be home, he knocked thrice and waited.

"Grace, would you get the door? I'm kinda busy here!"

Tercio laughed at his father's muffled voice, still the same after all these years.

"Alright, if you insist. Who could possibly be out in this weather?" he heard his mother ask as she approached the door. It swung open a moment later, and she gasped in shock.

"Hello, Mother," Tercio said with a warm smile. Glimmering Grace looked up at him in disbelief, her mouth working up and down but finding no words, and she finally stood on her hind legs and threw her forelegs and wings around him, squeezing him tight.

"Tercio! Oh goodness, it's really you!" Tercio hugged her in return, choking back tears of relief. He'd nearly forgotten how much he missed her kind, caring demeanor. "Roughshod! It's your boy! He's come back to us!" she called back into the house, wiping tears from her eyes. "Oh, but you must be freezing! Come in, come in!"

Tercio shut the door behind him and felt the glow of the crackling fireplace, smelled the familiar scent of his mother's cooking, and once more he was home. "I've missed you," he said, setting his gear bag on the floor.

"And we've missed you too, deary. It's been such a long time."

"Far too long," Roughshod said as he approached, limping on every other step. He was all smiles as he knocked his hoof against Tercio's fist and embraced him, patting him on the back. "It's good to have you back, son. How the hell are you?"

"I've been worse," Tercio laughed. "I'm far better now that I'm home again. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to return before Hearth's Warming."

"Well thank the gods that you did, eh? Come, let's get you warmed up. It's colder than a windigo's tit out there."

Tercio sat down by the fire, removing his thick winter coat and untying his marching boots that had become soaked with melted snow. Grace ladled a steaming bowl of barley soup and passed it to him, and he eagerly tucked into the meal. It tasted exactly the same as it had when he was a child, and when he closed his eyes he could see his younger self sitting in the same place, enthusiastically downing the bowl so he would be allowed to return to his toys.

"We had no idea you were coming, or we would have been better prepared," Grace said. A warm blanket was soon draped around Tercio's shoulders while his father moved his gear bag to his old room. "I'm surprised you didn't mention it in any of your letters."

"I wasn't entirely sure when I was going to be granted leave -- I only found out about a week ago. I thought I'd make it a surprise."

"A pleasant one at that, deary. Hearth's Warming just wouldn't be the same without you here. Just a few weeks away, you know."

Only now did Tercio notice the laurels of pine branches and bright red berries that had been set up around the house, with white candles glinting in small clusters on table tops or night stands. "I'm very much aware; there's been a frantic rush as of late around the palace. Lately we've been guarding doors more than guarding the Princess. The life of a Praetorian can be rather boring." He hoped his brown tunic hid the bandages still covering his wounds, or else he'd have to tell his mother about some very unfortunate things. The last thing he wanted was to give her more reason to worry.

"Your father used to complain about the same thing, always standing around at gates or walking the roads between Canterlot and Marestopholous. I'll tell you the same thing I told him: at least it's safe. But I'm sure you didn't come all the way here just to talk about your job, now did you?"

"Not if I can help it, though I do enjoy what I do. Usually."

"In that case: how was your trip? The weather is just terrible out there. I can only imagine what it was like to have to travel through it."

Tercio finished his bowl and set it aside with a satisfied sigh. He pulled the blanket around himself and moved a little closer to the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided. "It could have been worse. I managed to get a few rides here and there, and I found this inn just outside of town run by a whitetail. He was exceptionally kind. Even fed me at no cost to myself, said it was his way of repaying me for my service to Equestria. I ended up staying the night there and set out a few hours ago. Honestly the worst part of it all was that last stretch of road, when I could see the house but had to push through the snow to get here. It was a long, cold couple of miles."

"Oh you poor thing," Grace said sympathetically, pulling him in for a hug once more. "At least you're home now. How long can you stay?"

"Only eight days, I'm afraid," Tercio answered, frowning. "Seven if the roads are just as bad when I leave."

"Well, we'll just have to make the best of it then, now won't we?"

Roughshod trotted over to Tercio's side and sat down next to him, a tall jug tucked into his side. Two cups soon joined it, and he filled each of them with a generous portion of pale brown liquid. "Your things are in your old bedroom, I didn't think you'd mind."

"Not at all, thank you, Father."

"That's what I thought. Care to join your old man in a drink? Managed to procure a bottle of apple ale from Vigilant and his wife down the road. Fresh stuff, or so they say."

Grace rolled her eyes. She'd always thought Roughshod enjoyed his alcohol too frequently, but Tercio had never seen it impact his attitude or work ethic in any way. As far as he was concerned, his father had earned the right to a drink every now and then. "He's been home for five minutes, husband. At least give the boy a chance to settle in first."

"Nonsense!" Roughshod exclaimed as he raised his cup. "Tercio's not a boy anymore, he's a man! Isn't that right?"

"So they tell me," Tercio chuckled.

"Good! I'll drink to that." They clicked their drinks together and downed a healthy gulp of sweet, apple-flavored alcohol. It lacked the kick of amasec, but it still warmed the throat pleasantly as it went down. "Welcome home, son. Your mother and I, we worry about you, what with this nasty war still going on. She worries enough for the both of us sometimes."

"Especially with all of these rumors we hear," Grace added. "Was Canterlot really attacked again? Just imagining the things you've been through..."

"Canterlot wasn't, but the road leading to it was. Some of the Praetorians lost their lives to a Whitetail incursion. How they got that far, I can't say, but at least the threat thus far has been fairly minimal. As I said, Praetorian duty tends to be dull, except when it's not. I was in no danger, however."

He caught his father giving him a look -- the same look he'd grown up seeing, the one that said "I know there's more to it, but I won't tell your mother." Tercio had never been able to lie to his father, especially about military life. The old stallion had been around the life long enough to know that there were some things you had to hide for the sake of others. Tercio gave him an almost imperceptible nod, and nothing further of it was said.

"Sometimes I wish you'd have become a baker," Grace said with an exasperated laugh. "But it's good that you're taking care of yourself."

"I try to," he said earnestly. "Have either of you heard from Victus lately? I haven't seen him since the last time I was here."

"Heard from? Yes. Seen? I'm afraid not." His mother briefly left the room, returning with a small stack of scrolls clutched in her mouth. She set them down at Tercio's feet. "He writes more frequently than he used to, but it's still sporadic at best. He says he doesn't get the chance very often."

"Last I heard he was on the front lines," Roughshod said, shifting uncomfortably on his haunches. "That boy knows his stuff, but I know what the Legion is about. He's in danger far more often than he admits. Your mother is all too aware, I'm afraid."

"Missus Sunflower, from down the road, has a son in the Legion as well," Grace said as she took a seat beside them. "Squawks like an old hen, she does. Always telling me about this battle or that, some horrible conflict or other her son has been in and thankfully survived. Thank the gods you're mostly away from that sort of thing in the Praetorians, deary."

Tercio unrolled one of the scrolls, dated from a few months back. It was a short letter, hastily written.

Dearest Mother and Father, I do not have a lot of time to write this, but I wanted to let you know I am in good health. Imperator Lighthoof has seen fit to keep us moving forward with the rest of the Guard forces, so much of my day is spent marching or setting up and tearing down our newest encampment. I received word that Tercio fares well, so you needn't worry about your sons. I will write when next I have the opportunity, I promise. Take care of yourselves, and may the gods and the Princess watch over you. With love, Victus.

"Good to know the messenger actually did his job," Tercio said to himself. "When was the last time you heard from him?"

"A few weeks ago, I think."

"Sounds about right," Roughshod added. "I hope he's well."

"Victus is a fine soldier, finer even than myself. If anyone can come through a war unscathed, it's him."

Grace put a hoof in his shoulder. "In any case, at least we have you here with us, Tercio. I'm sure you've plenty to talk about, but you must be exhausted from your trip. Why don't you head on upstairs and put your things away, and I'll draw you a bath."

Tercio put his arms around both of them and smiled. "I've missed you greatly. It's good to be home again."

Finding a secluded place in Canterlot Castle was not easy, even for someone like Celestia. She needed somewhere quiet, where no one else would hear her or witness what she was about to do. For hours she wandered the castle grounds before finding an old storage room, unused and forgotten for decades, at the top of a spire. A thick layer of dust coated everything, and she coughed and sneezed as she cleared out a space on top of a small oaken table that would serve her purposes.

Reaching into a saddlebag, she pulled out two identical pendants -- circular, just about the size of her golden shoe, and carved from ivory to show a deer and a pony chasing each other in a circle. A faintly glowing gem sat in the middle of each, giving off a soft orange light. One of them had been given to her by Empress Elinwynn; the other, found among the possessions of a Nightmare Moon cult. Against all reason she hoped that she was mistaken about Elinwynn. Surely it must be a coincidence, or a trick by her fallen sister to turn her against the Cervidaen Empress? The simpler explanation was the hardest to swallow: Elinwynn was working with Luna-turned-Nightmare-Moon. Either way, she intended to find out soon.

The pendants were placed next to each other on the old, dirty table, and she gave a look to the small, circular window that was the room's only source of light. Night had fallen and brought with it a full moon, its soft, white glow casting eerie shapes through the room. Celestia shivered at the thought of Nightmare Moon watching her, even now, from every dark corner and distorted shadow.

"I have to know," she said to herself. Cautiously she set a hoof on one of the pendants and hesitated. What was she supposed to say? What did she expect would happen? "Luna. Luna, can you hear me?" Silence. "Please, speak to me." No, she thought, Luna is gone. She would have to try a different approach. She gathered her courage and raised her voice. "Nightmare Moon, I demand you come forth! Face me! Or are you frightened by my power?"

Both pendants began to shake, clattering around on the table, and all at once streamers of ethereal darkness, like shimmering smoke flecked with stars, burst from the ivory surface. Celestia stepped back in momentary panic as it swirled and flowed over itself, thick and viscous. A gust of wind filled the air with dust as the cloud formed the vague shape of an alicorn, barely visible as a patch of darkness against the background of twinkling lights. A pair of dragon-like eyes stared at her, a sickly teal in color, unblinking, and for a moment she found herself terrified beyond words.

"Luna? It's your sister, Celestia," she finally managed to say. "You remember me, don't you?" The dark thing said nothing, showed no sign it even acknowledged her presence. "I will not refer to you as Nightmare Moon, Luna. I refuse. That is not who you were. I will never choose to think of you as this...thing you've become."

It slowly tilted its head at her, as if studying her across the the vast distance, and a sudden grin of sharp, predatory teeth appeared beneath the terrible eyes, glinting like knives of white steel. "You may lie to yourself, sister, but never to me." The voice echoed through the room; feminine, yet heavy and powerful. "What pathetic gesture has brought you here? Are you ready to surrender to my followers at last?"

Celestia hung her head. "I had heard tale you communed with the vile cultists who commit such terrible crimes in your name, but to see it with my own eyes...what happened to you? The Luna I knew would have never brought so much pain and suffering to the ponies she cared for."

"The Luna you knew is dead!" Nightmare Moon shouted, her voice shaking Celestia's vision. "She was a weak, disgusting wretch who stood in your shadow and never once sought to question her place as the helpless, subservient sibling of a ruler who continues to think she has done nothing wrong!"

Celestia felt tears welling in the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them away before the thing that called itself her sister could see her weep. "Is that what you really think of me? What have I ever done, in all of our years together, that would drive you to darkness like this? Please, tell me..."

"I will not waste my time with such trivial sympathies. You know what you've done."

"You are not trivial to me, Luna!" Celestia shot back, raising her voice. "I had to banish you! You were killing innocent ponies! Would you have preferred I ended your life instead?"

"You could have certainly tried," it smirked.

"We grew up together! We spent hundreds of years at each others' side! We...we were there when Mother passed away, and Father soon after. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" She could still remember it like it had just happened: their mother, surrounded by apothecaries as she lay dying on her bed. Celestia and Luna had held her hoof for what felt like endless hours as the light slowly faded from her mane, and the very breath left her body. They'd wept for days after it happened. Even their father could hardly look at them for weeks to come, so great was his shame.

"Enough! I did not grace you with my presence so that we may discuss being mere fillies. Aurora was weak. Argo should have joined her sooner, the foolish old stallion that he was." Nightmare Moon's eyes narrowed. "I regret only that I cannot find their souls, that I may remind them of their failures for all eternity."

Celestia felt a terrible rage growing within her, already tired of playing games with her sister. She lifted the other pendant from the table with her magic, floating it before Nightmare Moon's shadowy visage. "If you will not speak to me as my sister, then I demand you tell me the truth: are you allied with Empress Elinwynn? What does she want from you?" The thing of shadow and stars seemed to hesitate, if only for a moment, almost imperceptibly lifting a foreleg in surprise. "Answer me!"

"The deer monarch is of no concern."

"This pendant was personally given to me by her before this war even started! Am I to believe it's a mere coincidence that she has the exact same emblem that's being used by the cults to summon you?" Celestia stepped forward until she was nearly face to face with Nightmare Moon's swirling clouds of smoke. "What is its purpose? Is she supporting your misguided efforts against me? What kind of foul magic has she tainted it with?" The figure said nothing. "Luna!"

Without another word it dispersed into glittering smoke, and in seconds all traces of it were gone. Celestia trembled with anger and sadness, and with a shout she pulled the pendants from the table and crushed them under hoof.

She saw her sister smiling at her side as they raced through the halls of their parents' castle in the forest.

Stomp.

She felt the reassuring embrace as Luna consoled her over the loss of her pet, a bird that had been a gift from their father.

Stomp.

She heard laughter as they attended their first play in decades at the newly-created Canterlot amphitheater, surrounded by close friends.

Stomp.

The ivory pendants chipped and crunched until they were naught but jagged flakes and shattered gemstone, and Celestia threw open the window and scattered their remains with the wind. For the first time in months she felt helpless, alone and lost. She collapsed to the floor, and sobbed until she couldn't anymore.

Centurion Sea Spout trotted alongside his Princess with a set of keys dangling from his mouth. He had been awakened at a terribly late hour, and he blinked away his lingering weariness as their hoof-falls echoed through the narrow stone corridor.

"Please inform Imperator Infernus at your earliest convenience that I will need him to shore up the defenses along the border with Whitetail. Secondary Guard units may be pulled from locally stationed auxilia troops. I want them watching every inch of that border like a hawk," Celestia ordered.

"Yes, Princess, as you wish." Sea Spout thought she looked exhausted, try as she might to hide it. It was evident in the way she carried herself and in the redness of her eyes. Had she been crying?

"I apologize for waking you, Sea Spout, but this is a matter of the utmost urgency."

"There is no need for apologies, Your Highness," he said respectfully. "I am here to serve, no matter the hour. I must warn you, however, that our captive may not be so cooperative."

"I take it she has told you nothing of value yet?"

He shook his head. "I am afraid not. This whitetail doe is not one to divulge information so easily."

"Everyone talks. It's only what it takes to get them there that differs," Celestia said, her voice cold and even, and Sea Spout was glad he was not a prisoner right then.

They descended a flight of stairs and came to a gated metal door, where an engraved stone on the wall warned of dangerous magics ahead. He searched briefly for the proper key and the lock clacked open.

"Please stay here, Centurion. I will return shortly."

"Of course, Princess." Had it been anyone else, he would have worried for their safety -- but if the ruler of Equestria wasn't strong enough to withstand the doe's magic, no one was.

Celestia continued down a short hallway, through a magically sealed door, and soon she was standing before the iron bars of Alinalyys' cell. She was surprised to find the deer awake, sitting on her cot with her head bowed and speaking quietly to herself in litanies of devotion to the spirits of Whitetail's state religion. Celestia stood silently, her mind filled with questions.

"Hello, Princess," Alinalyys said calmly in lightly-accented Equestrian, not looking up from the small, carved figurines she'd been allowed to keep for cooperating upon her capture. Bruised skin showed itself along her neck, shades of purple and red under her coat of burnt oak and white spots, a lasting reminder of her near-death at the hands of an enraged Tercio not long before. "You are up very late."

"I could say the same of you."

"I have always enjoyed the night. I feel at home in its embrace. That must sound quite strange to one who raises the sun, yes? So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Something has come up, Alinalyys. I was hoping you could provide me with some information." Celestia remained calm and friendly in response, but she knew it was just a game. The whitetail doe was outwardly polite, but it was only a facade to hide the ruthless killer inside.

"I cannot promise I will be of help, but you may ask."

The small prayer idols clicked together as they were gathered into a small bundle and placed gently on a cloth, then set to the side on a pillow that was one of the few comforts permitted in the otherwise barren cell.

"What do you know of Empress Elinwynn?"

Alinalyys tilted her head and shrugged. "As much as any other whitetail. She's the leader of the Cervidaen Hegemony, and one of those disgusting redtails. Nowhere near as striking and confident as we are. And those antlers -- they make her look like a stag." She laughed. "Can you imagine? Antlers on a whitetail doe? How ridiculous that would be."

"I was hoping for something a little more substantial," Celestia added.

"Like what, exactly? I have never met her, much less conversed with her at any length. Her and that insufferable brother of hers are around far too often for my tastes. Sometimes I'd see them conversing with the Chancellor, but that was back before your people drove a blade into his heart."

"We did not kill Chancellor Artellus," Celestia insisted. "And if you keep insisting otherwise then you will never see the truth behind it. You, and the rest of Whitetail, were played."

"As you say," Alinalyys said dismissively. Celestia could feel herself growing impatient.

"Does Empress Elinwynn have connections to the Nightmare Moon cults? Has she shown any signs of cooperating with them?"

The deer captive laughed at the thought. "Elinwynn, working with those murderous, misguided fools who think of your sister as some sort of deity? Surely you jest, unless insanity runs in your bloodline."

"And what makes you so sure?" Nightmare Moon certainly seemed to be surprised by Celestia's connection. It wasn't a lot to go on, but it was better than nothing.

"My dear Princess, no one, ourselves included, view these fanatics as anything more than annoyances. Their attack on Canterlot may have been...fortuitous, as far as the Whitetail war effort was concerned, but we hold no love for their ilk. Any encampments spotted within Whitetail territory are swiftly and mercilessly exterminated. Elinwynn herself has overseen the destruction of a few within her own borders, or so they say."

"They?" Celestia prodded.

"The higher-ups, the officers."

"We have reason to believe your vaunted officers have been working with the followers of Nightmare Moon, even selling fellow whitetail into slavery, or worse. More recently, I have come to believe that Elinwynn is working with my fallen sister as well, in some sort of unholy alliance against myself and my people."

Alinalyys clicked her tongue. "My, my, but that is quite the accusation you're throwing around."

"Tell me what you know."

"You presume I know anything about it in the first place."

"I know you belonged to the 3rd Magi, based in northern Evinwiir, personally overseen by some of the most powerful whitetail in the military, and you had access to meetings with very important deer. So I ask you again: tell me what you know, Alinalyys."

She shrugged. "You know what unit I was a part of. So what? It's not exactly a secret."

"By not sharing information you are complacent in the selling of fawns to these sick followers. Do you really want that burden on your shoulders? How many more will lose their lives, their identities, before you see past your pride?"

Alinalyys glared back. "I do not know them, nor do I have reason to believe what you're telling me is anything more than a lie. And besides, using fawns as some sort of guilt play against me? For shame, Princess. I had expected better from Equestrians." Alinalyys took a sip from the pitcher beside her bed and added, "you know, you can't keep me here forever. While your hospitality is unexpected, this place is far from enjoyable."

"You underestimate us," Celestia said firmly.

"And you underestimate me, Princess. Brother-Captain Corvalix was right: you are too kind for your own good. He may be an appalling offshoot of the superior whitetail heritage, but he's right." Alinalyys stepped down from her bed and approached the bars until she was nearly face to face with Celestia. "Do you know what they call you in my country, Celestia? Anafiir doeth fon'defaliin."

"'One without conviction.'" Celestia said as she drew upon her long years of knowledge.

"You know more deertongue than you let on," the doe said with a smirk.

"They are wrong. Many have said the same of Equestria -- of me -- and they have always paid for it in the end."

"So you say, Princess. But let's not kid ourselves: you and I both know you have no stomach for war."

"Perhaps you are not aware, but our forces are a mere stone's throw from your capital," Celestia retorted. The dismissive laughter from her captive was infuriating.

"And? You've yet to assault the city itself. Nothing is over until the rubble has been cleared. Chancellor Vinawyll is a coward and everyone knows it, so he leaves the actual commanding of our forces to his generals, useless though they seem to be. Evinwiir has never fallen in its many centuries, and it will not start now. We will find a way."

"He could always surrender. It would make thing so much simpler. It would stop the bloodshed."

"Surrender? And let the wrath of his citizens fall upon his neck? I don't think you know what kind of buck Vinawyll truly is. You're sooner to wrest a term of surrender from a cragodile."

Judging by the dozens of unreturned letters pleading for the Chancellor to give up the fight and save lives, Alinalyys wasn't far from right. Did Vinawyll really value his nation so little?

"You are far more talkative about this than I'd expected, Alinalyys."

"That's because I do not picture a scenario in which doing so will result in punishment. You see, Princess, there are only two ways this little war of ours can possibly play out: you lay siege to the capital and win, or you refuse to commit to the attack and lose as your forces are slowly depleted by swift strikes and silent blades. Either way, I will be free soon after, and no one will have been any the wiser. And it's not as if I have told you anything you didn't already know." She smiled and said, "Besides, you're so much more polite in conversation than that dreadful guard -- cen-turnion, I think is his rank? -- you insist on keeping here. He could really use a little work when it comes to his manners."

"He is also one of our most powerful unicorns. I would think twice before attempting anything ill-advised, if I were you."

Alinalyys motioned to the cell door. "It's not as if I can will myself to pass through iron bars. Really, you should relax a little. You look quite distressed -- is something bothering you?"

"I want to talk about the Nightmare Moon cult again," Celestia said, ignoring the prodding question. A sour look crossed the deer's face.

"Why in the world would you want to do that? Nasty sorts, all of them."

"What do you know about how they communicate with each other, or with Nightmare Moon herself?"

Alinalyys thought for a moment. "A medallion of some sort, I think. Or pendant. Soon after the war started I was tasked with taking down a camp of traitorous whitetail who had decided that your sister was the one, true path, or something. I never asked them what they really thought, though I imagine they would have found it difficult to answer with their throats sliced open." For a time she appeared to be lost in a memory, smiling to herself. "It's truly amazing how many victims fall for a simple misdirection. A feigned image here, a trick of the mind there, and before you know it you're practically swimming in their blood. Ten of them fell before me that day. Do you know what it's like to plunge a quinn-blade through someone, to feel their very essence fading away? I have yet to meet a buck who can recreate such a thrill."

"The pendant, Alinalyys," Celestia reminded her with a stomp of her golden shoe.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. You'll forgive me for reminiscing about the better times. We destroyed quite a few of those encampments, but the only thing that seemed to connect them was a broken trinket made of ivory and gemstones. We learned after a short time that they would destroy them at the first sign of trouble, presumably to keep them out of our hooves."

"Did you find any intact?"

"Two, I think."

"And what did you do with them?"

"I passed them on to the Brother-Captain...or is it Brother-General now? I always forget. Regardless, Corvalix was most pleased to have them in his possession. No doubt you've seen a few of your own by now. Tell me: did you manage to use them as the traitors used them?" Celestia hesitated to answer, and try though she might, something betrayed her thoughts to her captive. Alinalyys gasped in delight. "You did, didn't you? Myself and some of my sisters attempted to do the same, but it never worked. You simply must share what you saw! Was it Nightmare Moon? What did she say?"

"I will not discuss such things. Not with you."

Alinalyys sighed dramatically. "Really now, Princess, I may be a prisoner but I am not a monster. We share a common ground, you and I, in our hatred of the cults. If the good Corvalix were here now we could have a most wonderful discussion as he played with himself, or maimed a small animal, or whatever it is the redtail do in the company of one another."

Celestia was clearly growing tired of the conversation. "What did Corvalix do with the pendants once he had them?"

"How should I know? Such things were no concern of mine. I merely do as I'm asked and receive my pay." Alinalyys yawned and motioned to her bed. "Enlightening though this conversation is, I would very much like to get some rest. Are we done here, or...?"

"Very well, I suppose that's enough for now," Celestia answered. "I thank you for the conversation, and for being cooperative once more, but I must take my leave."

"How could I say no to such fine company? I assume I'll be receiving more agreeable quarters now."

"If you tell me what you know about the connection between the cultists and the nation of Cervidae, I would consider it."

Alinalyys frowned and said, "I think you are grasping at straws for such a connection. And you assume I know more than I really do. Do you tell all of your state secrets to your enlisted soldiers? No? Then I fail to see why you think I would know. Being in a prestigious unit does not exactly make me a warsmith."

Exhausted and growing increasingly weary of the self-assured deer, Celestia bowed and turned to leave. "We'll discuss it some other time. Sleep well, Alinalyys."

"I shall. And if you happen to take a strong buck captive, do be sure to send him my way. I could use a good rutting before bed!"

Celestia scoffed and shut the door behind her, rubbing her eyes as Sea Spout secured the lock. Alinalyys wasn't the most unpleasant doe she'd ever spoken with, but her bravado seemed to be in line with many of the high-class whitetail -- and redtail, for that matter. For two peoples who seemed to despise each other so much, they sure acted similar.

"She says you need to work on your manners," Celestia said, leaning against the wall with a slow exhale. Tomorrow would be a long day. They both gave a short laugh, and Sea Spout tucked the keys back into his saddlebag.

"I will work on my manners when she stops referring to me as 'boy' and complaining about the food. I'm relatively sure I'm older than she is. In any case, it could be worse. Did you manage to learn anything from her, Princess?"

In fact, she had. Without being aware of it, the talkative deer had given her a strong lead to go on; the fact that the cults were apparently under orders to destroy the communication pendants if they were threatened told her that whoever was giving them out clearly did not want to be found.

"I am afraid not," she said anyway. Better to keep things to herself for now.

"A shame. Perhaps next time."

"Perhaps. You may return to your quarters, Sea Spout. Goodness knows I will be returning to mine. Thank you for helping at such a late hour."

Sea Spout saluted with a hoof over his chest. "I am always here for you, Princess. Have a good night."

Celestia bowed out of respect and parted ways with the jailer, passing by a pair of ponies at the entrance to the building and wishing them well. Once outside in the cold, clear air she felt her frustrations lifting, giving way to so many more questions than she'd had before. Luna's followers were receiving their pendants from somewhere -- could it have been Elinwynn? All evidence seemed to point in that direction, but she knew it wouldn't be enough to confront the Cervidaen Empress with. Not yet.

That left her with one thread to follow, in the form of Elinwynn's determined brother, Corvalix. Alinalyys had said he looked 'overjoyed' to receive the pendants. If he was working with both his sister and Nightmare Moon, then keeping such a thing hidden would have been in his best interests, and what better way to hide your involvement than to control the only thing that could possibly link you to it?

Still...if Elinwynn really was behind the distribution of the Nightmare Moon pendants, what did she possibly stand to gain by giving one to the leader of Equestria? She knew Celestia far too well to think she'd never make the connection. Or did she want Celestia to figure it out? Was it some deeper ploy? And for what reason?

She finally fell onto her bed, sure that she would find no sleep this night. But she was exhausted, so very tired, both mentally and physically, and before long she could no longer fight against it. She dreamed of Luna, so young and vibrant, and for a few hours, at least, she was free of her worries.

31 - Fratres Aeterni

Being home again felt strange. In the months since his last visit a lot had changed, and not necessarily for the better. The most obvious thing Tercio noticed was that he was almost constantly on edge any time he was alone, as if there was a deer assassin hiding in every shadow. The whitetail raid had left lasting scars on more than just his body, and he often suspected they would try to take him when his guard was down -- and what better place to do so than his own home? Deep down he knew it was a ridiculous notion, but it still led to sleepless nights and tiresome days. His parents had noticed, of course. They knew him too well, but they thankfully did not pry beyond the usual questions. He doubted he could have explained anyway.

Two days into his visit he sat alone in his old room, listening to the wind gently blow the freshly fallen snow against his window as he dutifully scrubbed his gear. Spots of blood still clung to the places where metallic plates overlapped each other, not all of it his. Every nick and gouge told a story; a spray of gore from a successful attack, a deflected whitetail quinn-blade, a powerful blow by a cultist mace that had nearly shattered bone. They came to him as clear as day, glimpses of combat and death, and he prayed he would not have to see battle again for some time.

Nocturne still called to him when he was alone, its connection such that he could almost hear it speak, somewhere in the back of his mind. It was voiceless and faint, like a breeze among the grass, and it waited patiently in its midnight scabbard. The warmth of the grip comforted him as he drew the weapon and admired its beauty, its blade leaving a soft trail of white energy as it sliced through the air. It had seen its share of violence, and yet it had not a single scratch on it. It was a good sword, swift and deadly, precise in its movements and lethal in its attacks. Celestia had been generous in gifting it to him and, though he had felt apprehensive at first, he could now no longer imagine fighting his battles without it.

He wondered what the Princess was doing without him around, if she longed for his affection as much as he longed for hers. It still seemed unreal, being involved with the leader of Equestria, someone who was viewed as a demigod by much of the populace. At night he could almost feel the warmth of her skin, the silken caress of her flowing mane, and at those times he wished he could be open in his love for her.

A knock from downstairs caught his attention, and he quickly put the blade away and tucked it into his storage chest. Perhaps his parents had returned from their early morning trip to Bridle Falls. He imagined his father complaining loudly as he pulled a wagon loaded with goods, and his mother chiding him for being old and bitter.

"Hold on," he called out as he approached the door, bracing himself for the gust of cold air. He quickly threw open the door, and immediately was at a loss for words.

"Hello, Tercio," Victus said with a smile. Flakes of snow flecked his white coat and brown tunic, and a pair of saddlebags were draped over his torso. Tercio threw his arms around his brother, holding him tight in disbelief and joy.

"Victus! By the gods, it really is you!"

"So it is," Victus laughed. "I've missed you, brother! I was afraid I wouldn't be here in time to see you."

"I've missed you, too. I had no idea you were coming! Last I heard the Legion was being recalled to the front lines. I had assumed that meant you as well."

"I didn't know I was bound for home until a few days ago. It seems Princess Celestia herself requested that I be granted leave. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Tercio had to smile at that, though he knew he couldn't very well say everything. "I might have requested you join me. The Princess is quite accommodating of her Praetorians."

"Well I'll be damned. Looks like you've got connections in high places these days!"

"I have a few. Come, let's get you out of the cold."

Victus stepped inside, clearly happy to be back as he looked around. "Like nothing's changed, eh? Where are mother and father?"

"Bridle Falls, left earlier on. They should be back shortly, I imagine. Your timing is good, I've only been home a few days. Dreadful weather to walk in, let me tell you. Must be nice to be able to fly here."

"I had to trudge through my share of snow, unfortunately. Low cloud cover and strong winds kept me earthbound much of the way here. But at least I'm home at last. Feels like it's been a long time, doesn't it?"

Tercio nodded. "That it does. It's good to see you again, brother."

"Well look at you! Little Tercio, all grown up and sporting his own fancy-ass armor. I'm sure you get plenty of use out of it while standing around and looking good for civilians." Victus laughed and knocked a hoof against Tercio's steel and gold plate.

"Says the Legionary who spends his days chasing after darkness worshipers. Tell me: do they all run around screaming, or do some of them actually fight back?"

"Some do, which is more than can be said for a Praetorian who stares at the Princess' backside for hours on end."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," Tercio answered with a grin. As backsides went, hers was rather shapely. He wished he could flaunt his knowledge of such things, but then, Victus was probably not the first person he'd want to tell about his relationship with Celestia.

It was mid-day, warmer and sunnier than it had been in days prior, and the two brothers had decided to make the best of it by challenging each other to a sparring match. Tercio thought it a grand idea; if nothing else, it would let him show off his Praetorian armor. Dragging it around with him from Canterlot to Summervale hadn't been the most enjoyable thing, but he was glad to have it now -- even if his mother seemed to be even more impressed than Victus. "Oh, my dear boy," she'd said adoringly, "all grown up and handsome like a proper stallion." He likely would never have escaped the house if his father hadn't come to his rescue.

His purple cloak flowed behind him as the wind gusted, and he set his crested helm firmly on his head as Victus did the same, his own Legion-red cloak hanging over his back.

"Turn around for me, would you?" Victus asked. "Is that...a bull stitched into your cloak?"

"It is. It was given to me by Celestia after the attack on Canterlot. She said it was fitting. Something about having the strength and determination of a bull, I think."

"More like being bull-headed," Victus laughed. "I'm impressed! Looks like you've been busy these long months after all. All joking aside, I'm proud of you, Tercio. You do our family a great honor."

"I try to," Tercio said earnestly.

"As do I. But hey, we didn't come out here to swap compliments, we came out here to fight! What say you?"

"I say it's about time! Come, draw your sword."

"Wish we had our shields," Victus said as he reached to his side and pulled a gladius from its holster. A second weapon was tied to the other side of his body. A backup, he'd explained earlier. Losing his weapon was something that seemed to happen far too often. Once he had a firm mouth-hold he nodded that he was ready.

"I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to drag mine all the way here. Guess it's just our blades, then. Like when we were children, eh?"

"Lit'le diff'ren zhan wooden shords."

Tercio chuckled at the way Victus had to speak with a weapon grasped between his teeth. He never understood how ponies could fight so well without magic -- or hands, in his case -- but they seemed to do fine on their own. Reaching across his body he unclasped the top of Nocturne's dark scabbard, drawing the weapon with a singing of steel on leather.

Victus' eyes went wide at the sight of it."What in the nine hells is that?" he asked as he tucked his weapon into his foreleg.

Tercio twirled the longsword in his hand, showing off the magical trail it left behind. Runes along the fuller dimly pulsed, slow and subtle, with the color of night. "This? This is Nocturne."

"You named your sword?"

"I didn't, no. But Luna did."

Victus eyed him apprehensively. "I'm not sure I understand..."

Even though they were no longer young children, Tercio still enjoyed one-upping his brother from time to time. What brother wouldn't? "To make a long story short, Princess Celestia gifted me this blade not too long ago. It had been sitting in Luna's chambers for quite some time, just collecting dust. She thought Luna -- the Luna we all knew before her fall -- would have wanted me to have it if she couldn't use it. How could I refuse?"

Victus was plainly awestruck. He ran his hoof along the blade, more than twice as long as his gladius, and felt the hum of magical power that ran through it. "You mean to tell me this is a royal blade? The personal weapon of Princess Luna? Come on, that's a load of nonsense even for you."

"Swear by the gods, brother. It's the finest weapon I've ever held, and I'm honored that Celestia would choose me to wield it."

With a low whistle Victus stepped back. "First the armor, then the cloak, and now the sword. Celestia seems awfully generous with you. Is there something you're not telling me? Next thing I know, you're going to say you're bedding her!"

What Tercio wanted to say was "not yet, I'm not" but he feigned laughter and rapped his knuckles against the side of Victus' helm. "You've always had a way with words, you know that?"

"Well, shit, if you're going to produce a damned royal blade, then I might as well not hold back a little surprise of my own."

Tercio watched in interest as Victus pulled the second blade from its sheathe, then locked it into a ring mount on the armor of his right foreleg with a metallic 'click', so that it faced outward while he was standing. Soon after, he spread his wings wide, revealing a set of intricate, multi-jointed strips of gold-plated steel that ran along the leading edges of his wings, sharpened to a razor's edge.

"Wing blades? I haven't seen those in a long time. Impressive."

"A gift of my own, from Battle-Master Gilias. Standard griffon equipment, but modified for pegasi. Not bad, right?"

"Not bad at all. And is that an armor-mount on your foreleg?"

"Modified whitetail design. Not spring-loaded, but it works."

Tercio shook his head. "You're going to make me fight against three weapons at once, aren't you? And here I thought you were looking for a fair fight."

"'Fair' nothing! Any idea of fairness went out the window the second you produced a magical sword. Consider this my way of making things more of a challenge."

In the Cervidaen capital of Pecora, Empress Elinwynn waited impatiently on her covered balcony overlooking the city. A cold drizzle had permeated the air for the last two days, and she shivered as she pulled on her expensive, elegant winter robes to keep them tight against her. Even so, a fire burned inside her that had not abated in the least ever since her brother had returned from his latest trip to Whitetail. The nation of their inferior cousins was falling into her grip, slowly but surely, and everything had seemed to be going better than she could have hoped -- and then Celestia had thrown herself into the equation. Now Elinwynn cursed the pony princess under her breath even as Corvalix appeared in the doorway.

"You called, Sister?" he asked with a smirk as he leaned against the door frame, his usual armor replaced with silver and crimson body wraps that hung loosely from his sides.

"Corvalix. I was hoping you'd come quickly," she replied, stepping over to him. She always tried to maintain an appearance of being calm and decisive, but she knew she looked worried for the first time in ages. She didn't bother trying to hide it from him. "We have a problem."

"Oh? With whom?"

"Celestia. She knows."

The smile faded from his lips. "How much?"

"Enough. To think she would even make the connection! I should have seen it sooner! Spirits of the Ancestors, I should never have--"

"Elinwynn," Corvalix stopped her, lifting a hoof to quiet her. "Calm yourself, then we will discuss this together."

She took a deep lungful of cool, damp air and forced herself to relax; panicking would only make things worse. "A few days ago one of the devices was activated. I felt the usual pull of magic and went to see what inane request the followers had this time, but...it wasn't one of the followers. It was her. Celestia had one of the medallions, and she'd figured out how to use it."

"And? As far as she knows, it's just used to speak with Nightmare Moon. I'm sure she wasn't exactly overjoyed to see the visage of her fallen sister floating there before her. What, did you come to her in your true form?"

"Of course not! Do you think me a fool? She expected to see Nightmare Moon, and so she saw Nightmare Moon."

"Then what is the problem? If she truly believes the ruse then we've no issue."

Elinwynn looked around to make sure no one was watching or listening. She could never be too sure these days. "That's just it! She suspects a connection between 'Nightmare Moon' and myself! She said as much! Somehow she'd obtained a communication medallion and had noticed it was the same as the one I gave her several months ago." She stomped a hoof in frustration. "What a ridiculous oversight to make! I should have been more careful with that damn listening device."

"So she suspects you're working with her sister. Do you think she knows that you are 'Nightmare Moon'?"

Elinwynn shook her head, her gold and emerald antler chains tinkling with the motion. "No, at least not yet. Fooling a bunch of fanatical idiots to cause a distraction once in a while is one thing, but Celestia? She may think us separate for now, but I doubt it will last long. Once she learns that there is no Nightmare Moon..."

"Then she'll be on a war path," Corvalix finished for her. "I see what you mean. This is a problem." Elinwynn paced back and forth as she fumed, her mind filled with all manner of possible actions. Only one truly stood out in the end.

"We have to move the timeline up, and do so immediately."

Corvalix eyed her with apprehension. "You're sure about this? I realize things are not ideal, but--"

"If we don't take action, then she will, Corvalix! We've no time for games -- not with Whitetail, and certainly not with Equestria. I want you to pack your things and depart immediately to Evinwiir. Tell the good Chancellor there's been a change of plans." She stepped forward and stared him directly in the eyes. "You have one week, Brother. One week, and not a day more. Do whatever you must to ensure things go as we've foreseen."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Corvalix said quietly, "because we're not going to have a second chance at this. Not now, not ever again."

"We owe this to Mother and Father, to six generations of Cervidaen peoples. I will not be remembered for inaction, not like the others." She motioned to the stairs with a tilt of her head. "Go. You have your orders."

Corvalix hesitated for only a moment, then bowed and departed. Elinwynn watched him go until he was out of sight. Her shoulders felt heavy and her legs trembled beneath her, and once she was sure of being alone she turned and bucked the wall hard enough to leave a cracked hole in the stonework. A gold and oak side table was yanked from beside her in a field of crackling magic, and she threw it over the balcony with a shout of anger and frustration.

Celestia had forced her hoof. There would be no turning back now.

Tercio had never thought of himself as much of a cook, especially compared to his mother, but he at least knew enough to throw together a hot meal for himself and Victus. For the first time since his arrival Victus finally had some time alone with Tercio, their parents visiting friends one town over. Sore and dirty from their fight, they soon sat with their bellies full and their legs kicked up on the table, the crackling fireplace creating a pleasantly warm glow.

"How's life in the Legion these days?" Tercio asked as he stoked the flames and threw in another length of chopped wood. "I've heard they've been on the front lines since the start of the war. Information is hard to come by, however, especially when it comes to the 44th. Trying to find out if you fare well is like pulling teeth, I swear."

Victus chuckled. "Secrecy first and foremost, eh? Truth be told, we've been serving as a secondary unit for some time. After the battle of Everfree we were pulled back to hunt down Nightmare Moon encampments. It's not as glamorous as fighting the whitetail, but it serves its purpose. Even managed to get one of these...medallions, or whatever they are. We think they're what the cultists use to speak with the fallen princess herself. No idea what happened to it, we sent it to Canterlot. Haven't heard about it since."

"No doubt Celestia will want to look into it."

"So I imagine."

Tercio pointed to a flesh-colored scar that stood out against the striking white coat and skin of his brother. "You've been wounded?"

"Aye, twice. Would you believe I made it through Everfree without so much as a scratch, but the damned cultists got the better of me twice? Last one lodged a dagger right into my upper foreleg when I wasn't looking." Victus shrugged. "Hurt like a son of a bitch, but it was only temporary. A lot of stallions I knew, well...they weren't so lucky."

It was quiet for some time as they both reflected on their own battles. Tercio broke the silence, removing his tunic to show several scars and coarse bandages. His wounds no longer bled as often, thanks to the concoction the apothecary had given him, but strenuous activity sometimes reopened them briefly.

"Gods, Tercio, what happened to you?" Victus asked in morbid surprise. "I thought the Praetorian Guard was a quiet job compared to the Legion."

"That's what they all say," Tercio answered flatly. "This jagged one here, on my arm? The attack on Canterlot. A cultist sliced me with a hooked blade. Along my ribs? Battle with Lacertus, the assassin who very nearly took Princess Celestia's life."

"I hear you tore his throat out."

Tercio winced at the memory. Apparently tale of his actions had spread across Equestria. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes." He shifted his body to show his back, where a wrapping of bandages covered an ugly, black and red wound that was slowly healing. "This is from less than a week ago. Our unit met with a Legion encampment in Dragon Crest -- we were supposed to escort a large wagon filled with reclaimed valuables. They passed it off to us and we were attacked near the end of the day, not even an hour outside of Canterlot. Damned whitetail were waiting for us, led by a powerful doe."

Victus swore to himself. "How did the whitetail get so close to the capital? The border isn't fully closed off, but it's at least watched most of the time."

"I've no idea. Magic, perhaps? Bribery? Whatever the case may be, they pounced on us with surprising speed. That was the first time I'd ever fought the whitetail."

"Damned tough fighters, aren't they?" Victus made a motion as if he was stabbing a blade forward. "Those armor blades, you never see them coming. They may not have our strength but they're hard to defeat when they have room to maneuver."

"So I learned. Almost had me a few times. One of them got behind me and stuck a quinn-blade right into my shoulder, through a gap under my pauldron. In the heat of the moment I didn't realize how deeply he'd struck me. I was bleeding quite profusely for some time, and only after the battle did one of the others notice. They had to take some measures to stop it. Painful ones."

Victus leaned forward in his seat. "What do you mean, painful ones?"

"Have you heard of prometheum powder?"

"Prometheum?" His brother's eyes went wide at the mention of the word. "Gods, Tercio, you mean they burned your wound closed?"

"They did what they had to. It was...bad. I have never felt anything like it, and I pray I never have to again." He could still remember the terrible heat, the unbelievable pain. The hole in his shoulder had been mended, but the scar would remain for the rest of his life, ugly and discolored. "I am thankful that we have some of the best medical aid in all of Equestria at the palace, or I might still be writhing on a medicae cot right now."

With a smirk Victus said, "Gilias would probably love to meet you. She's got a hard-on for battle scars."

"Gilias?"

"Battle-Master Gilias, of the Griffon Skyguard," he explained. "She's been an unofficial member of our contubernium for some time. Real blood seeker, that one, but tough as tails and with a personality to match."

"I take it Skytalon has at least somewhat of an interest in not being neighbors with their worst enemies."

"Pretty much. She frightens the hell out of me, but she can fight like no one I've ever seen."

"Better than me?" Tercio asked with a nudge.

"A foal with a wooden sword fights better than you, dear brother," Victus said, the two of them laughing together. "I am glad you're in good health, or close to it. Not having any proper communication with the outside world for so long doesn't lend itself well to news of such things."

"And I'm equally glad you found that messenger. Would you believe he passed himself off as a brothel owner in order to get close enough to speak with me? He was...persistent. I nearly jammed my dagger into his throat for it! Poor bastard nearly pissed himself before he could explain what was really going on."

"He said as much when he delivered your message. I had to pay him extra for the trouble. Next time, try not to almost murder my courier, will you?"

"No promises."

"Close as I'm going to get to your word, I suppose, you tall bastard. You're lucky I still put up with you!" He poured himself another cup of flavored water as the fireplace burned quietly behind him. "I've missed this. Just sitting around, talking like a couple of kids. Life was so much simpler back then, eh? No wars, no difficult mares, no long marches in the freezing rain. Just the two of us, wasting the day without a care."

Tercio sat back in his chair, remembering the many times he'd returned from school to find Victus waiting for him in the field with a sack of toys and baubles he'd gathered from their rooms. It felt like so long ago.

"Do you remember when we snuck into Applewood's orchard and ate ourselves sick, only to be caught by the old stallion?"

"I remember you nearly scared him half to death," Victus answered with a smile. "We were sick for days! Oh, but those peaches...they were the best I've ever had. I don't regret it for a moment."

"Neither do I. In fact, it was such a good story that I had to tell Celestia about it."

"Come on, you told the Princess? I think you're stretching things here."

"I swear on the good word of the Princess herself! We were having a dinner some time after the attack; a sort of thank-you for helping save her life. She asked about growing up with you, so I told her a few stories. She says you sound like a charming, caring brother."

"Really now? Charming, you say? Well, my dear brother, if you happen to see the good Princess, do be sure to tell her I'm single..."

"Oh, I'll get right on that," Tercio answered with a chuckle. "I was glad to share some small bit of our childhood, it made it feel like you weren't across the damned country, if only for a while. Those memories, they're what keep me sane sometimes." He grew more serious, eyeing his brother. "I've seen, and done, some truly terrible things, Victus. I can't even begin to describe them. They were all in defense of the Princess and Equestria, but still...it's not something I'll ever forget."

"I understand, believe me," Victus said, patting his brother on the back. "There was this caravan we were supposed to destroy, a few weeks ago. Cultists, or so they'd told us. Turned out they were working with Whitetail and its soldiers. There was a buck protecting the caravan -- tall, well-built. He knew what he was doing. Gilias slaughtered him all the same. After the battle we found a fawn hiding from us, short little thing. Maybe...four, five years old? We found out that he'd been sold as a slave after his parents were killed. Soon after, stories started popping up all over the place from other Legion units that had freed slaves of one kind or another. Whitetail, mostly. To think a government would sell off its own citizens..."

"That's why we have to win, so that no one else suffers under them."

"We will," Victus said sincerely. "Ahh, but let's not talk about such things right now. We're both alive, and we're both home. What more could we ask for?"

Tercio couldn't think of much, besides having Celestia at his side. Such a thing was too much to think about sometimes. Even if the war ended tomorrow, what would they do? Word of their involvement would surely not take long to reach the ears of everyone else in the palace, and once that happened...would the others even listen to him as a leader, or would they see him as being a favorite because of his relationship with their Princess?

He would have to worry about it later. There was too much on his mind as it stood, and one thing in particular threatened to drive him mad unless he came out with it. He hesitated to talk about it even still.

"Victus, there's something I need to share with you, but you must swear to never utter a word of it to Mother or Father," he said solemnly.

Victus' ears perked up, and he sat up straight in his seat. "What are you talking about? Is something wrong?"

"Do I have your word?" Tercio insisted.

"Of course you do. I'll swear by any deities you like, but if there's something that troubles you so, then perhaps Mother and Father should--"

"It's not something they would be able to help me with. Neither could you, really, but I feel it's something you should know as my brother -- and as a fellow soldier." Victus nodded for him to continue, listening intently. "Right, so...remember the last time we were together? We had just arrived in Canterlot and you were told to report back to your unit, and shortly after I was reassigned to the Praetorian Guard. I began training with a group of other candidates after you left. It was a few weeks later, during combat training, that we discovered that there is something...wrong with me."

"Wrong?"

"Yes. I was fighting against our group's most skilled unicorn -- a good stallion by the name of Polaris -- in a back-and-forth contest. I haven't met many ponies who can match my dexterity, but Polaris kept up with me quite handily. Eventually he managed to put me on the defensive, and he started to shout encouragement for me to dig deeper and fight my way back. 'Attack, Tercio!' he'd say. 'Attack!' And then he used a word I'd never heard before, a deertongue word. I...I can't repeat it, nor would I want you to know it. But that word, it changed me, deep inside."

Victus cocked his head. "You know deertongue? I wasn't aware."

"That's just it: I don't know a word of it. I had never even heard it spoken before that day. Yet as soon as Polaris used that word it triggered something inside of me that I didn't even know was there. Like a...a darkness, you could call it. It took control over me, and I ended up wounding Polaris quite seriously. I may have sat out the attack on Canterlot in a cell if it hadn't been for Celestia giving me another chance."

"Hold on, I'm not sure I understand," Victus said. "What do you mean, 'a darkness'? The last time I heard that phrase, Princess Luna was banished for trying to usurp her sister. Do you mean to tell me you suffer from the same evil as her?"

"I don't think so, no. It's difficult to explain. Upon someone uttering that word, I begin to lose control of myself. I told Celestia about it -- I had to. I thought she might be able to help. I...I nearly killed her that day. Had I gotten my hands on her, I could have...well, I'd rather not think about such things." He bowed his head in shame at the memory. "I have been fighting against it ever since."

Victus was quiet for some time, unsure of what to make of what he'd been told. He and Tercio had always been close; why had such a thing waited so long to reveal itself? "What happens when this 'darkness' takes over, exactly? What is it like?" he asked. "Tercio, if there is some chance I can help, you must tell me. This is alarming news!"

"Which is exactly why I have been against the idea of telling you until now." Tercio closed his eyes and tried to put to words the horrific things he'd seen. "It is like...like a shroud of red being pulled over my eyes. Slowly, at first, then quicker as it builds. It clouds my vision until I can focus on it alone. That's when the rage takes over; terrible, all-consuming rage. It is an anger that I cannot properly explain."

"An anger towards whom?"

"Whoever is attacking me, usually," Tercio answered. "If there is no one fighting against me, then I will lash out at the nearest pony. It seems to be ingrained in me to attack Equestrians. I can remember only bits and pieces of my times under the influence of the darkness -- flashes of violence, visions of slaughter I had yet to partake in. Those thoughts drive me on, and when I have lost myself I will stop at nothing to rend the flesh from my opponent's bones -- even if it means using my bare hands. That's how I killed Lacertus Praxis, and almost killed Celestia and Polaris." He kicked the table in frustration, sure that his story would make Victus question his very sanity. "I must sound as if I am a trained dog, not a gods-damned soldier."

"You said you killed Lacertus under the influence of this rage, yes?" Victus asked. "How did that happen?"

"He knew the word. I don't know how, but he did, and he used it. I blacked out in the midst of combat with him, and he took the opportunity to attack Celestia. He very nearly killed her, Victus. If that sword of his had gone even an inch deeper..."

"What happened then?"

"I don't remember, not fully. I awoke soon after, my blade lost somewhere in the cave. Lacertus was about to deliver a killing blow to the Princess, and that's when I threw myself at him with all of my strength, or so I've been told. I tore the weapon from his mouth and grabbed onto his throat with both hands." He mimicked squeezing the very life from the assassin, and as he did so he could see himself covered in blood once more. "I mutilated him, Victus. He died a horrible death. The last thing I remember is looking over at the Princess bleeding on the ground, my hands red with gore, and approaching her in a haze. The next thing I knew, I was in a medicae building, covered in bandages."

Victus had to stand up from his seat and pace the room. Tercio knew he was having a hard time taking it all in, and he let his brother take as much time as he needed. How would he possibly react to such a revelation? If he were in Victus' place, he could not say he would understand it either.

"Why have we not seen this from you sooner? Why did it take so long for such a thing to come out?" Victus asked, his voice heavy with concern.

"I don't know, but I wish it hadn't come out at all. Word of my deeds spread quickly to the other barracks. I haven't been looked at the same by many of them ever since. The stallions I train with and fight alongside do not fully know what to make of it, but some of them owe their lives to me because of it, and they have become nearly as close as you and I. The others...they vary from outwardly friendly to very nearly hostile, but I hear them talk behind my back. They don't think I do. They don't trust me!" Tercio suddenly raised his voice, kicking his chair back against the wall. "All I have done, for the entirety of my career, is to better myself as a soldier, as a leader! I became a Praetorian because I wanted to be something more than a simple guardsman, and now all of it could be thrown away in a single instant because of this fucking anger inside of me! By all rights I should be rotting in a cell, or dead at the end of a Praetorian blade!"

Victus lifted into the air and hovered in front of Tercio, placing a hoof against his chest in an attempt to calm him. "Don't say such things, brother. You would not be here now if everyone thought you nothing more than a monster."

"I can lose myself entirely because of a single word! Does that not make me a monster? Do you have any idea what it's like to have such a thing constantly at the back of your thoughts? Someone, right now, could send me on a murderous rampage against you, against Mother and Father, with barely more than a thought, and I would be nearly powerless to stop it!" He sank back against the wall, his head in his hands. "I could be the end of everyone and everything I hold dear..." After a moment he quietly said, "I try to fight it, brother. I do. Recently I have nearly fallen into its grasp twice: once during training in the mountains, and once when the whitetail ambushed us near Canterlot. Both times I was able to stop it from gaining control over me entirely. I even felt a sort of...euphoric afterglow when I defeated it for the first time. I was sure it was gone. But it wasn't. It was still there, waiting. And now I don't even have to hear that word to slip back into it. Anything that causes sufficient anger -- especially the stress of combat -- can bring it forth. I can, at least, mostly stop it from taking over during sparring. I suppose that's something."

"It sounds like you're making progress, then," Victus said encouragingly. "Do you know why you've been able to resist its influence as of late?"

Tercio nodded. "Yes. Nocturne."

"Luna's sword?"

"I don't know what it is, but ever since I first held that weapon it is as if it's somehow...connected to me. I can feel its power, almost hear its thoughts. Perhaps something in its magic has helped me." He shrugged. "Maybe it does not wish to see me fall to darkness like Luna."

"You speak as if it's alive, Tercio. It may be a magical blade, and a fine one at that, if our little bout is anything to go by, but it's still just a weapon."

"I know, and you're probably right. But I will not question it if it means I have a chance at overcoming this damnable curse once and for all."

Victus trotted to the far side of the room and put Tercios' chair back in place, then helped lift him from the floor with a grunt of exertion. Tercio looked pale and tired, as if he were suddenly sick. It would do him no good to talk of it further, not for today. "Come, let's get you some rest. I'll tell Mother and Father you're not feeling well." Victus got a weak 'thank you' in reply. "Regain your strength and your courage, for tomorrow you will need it."

Tercio looked confused. "Why?"

"Because we're going to fight this darkness inside of you. Together."

32 - Bad Blood

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?"

33 - The Midlands (1/2)

Evinwiir had been gutted by fire. If nothing else, that much was clear to Princess Celestia and her advisers. An urgent delivery had arrived the night before, flown in from the front lines, and what the parcel had contained shocked her beyond words.

A small, multi-faceted crystal had tumbled out onto the table, roughly diamond shaped, with a broad, flat face. It appeared to be nothing of note -- until she focused her magic on it. At that instant, a vision of the Whitetail capital jumped to the forefront of her mind, and she saw Evinwiir burning under a cloud of roiling magical energy and choking smoke, seen from the eyes of another.

A memory gem. She had not seen one in many years.

In disbelief she watched the scene unfold before her again, the rushed, confused movements of a pegasus guard trying to view the devastation without showing himself to the whitetail. There was no mistaking it: Evinwiir had been devastated by an immensely powerful explosion of some sort.

Now, with her best and brightest military minds surrounding her dais, she intended to find out what the cause had been, and who had set it off.

"Have we heard any word from Evinwiir, or Whitetail itself?" She tumbled the memory gem end over end, a nervous gesture.

"So far? None, Your Highness. With the deerfolk I'm not surprised. Secretive bastards, the lot of them," General Corinthius answered. His was a voice of no-nonsense opinion and hard facts. Very much a believer in the old ways, down to the fading, old-style naming system of pre-unity Equestria, Corinthius could always be counted on to speak his mind. "This gives us a strong advantage in pushing toward a decisive victory, however. Whatever caused this explosion has apparently weakened the adjacent walls to the point that a week-long bombardment by our siege weapons could bring them tumbling down. Something to think about."

"I'd still prefer not to go that route, General, but I will keep it in mind." Celestia turned to the venerable Legatus-Adeptus Shadowstrike, the aptly-named head of Equestria's extensive reconnaissance network. "Do your spies bring any word?"

"Not enough to go on," the weary pegasus admitted. "The bucks under our command are rightfully worried about being found out, following this incident. I hear only rumors and hear-say. All I can tell you is that the whitetail are, unsurprisingly, blaming this on us, and you in particular, Princess."

Celestia rubbed her muzzle with a hoof. "I had expected as much. To think they still believe me capable of such things is frustrating and saddening." She studied the map table for a time before speaking once more. "Is it possible one of our forward commanders authorized such a thing, perhaps in some misguided attempt to end the war sooner?"

Corinthius shook his head. "Doubtful. If this magic-infused fire is the same emerald flame the whitetail have used against us, it would take a massive amount of it to create the damage you described. A warehouse, maybe, or a storage room of some sort. The numbers required to get past the defenses of such a place would be far larger than could conceivably be sneaked in by magic or flown in via pegasus wagon, even under the cover of night."

"And more to the point, we don't harm civilians. Ever." Legatus Lentius, the commander of the Royal Guard, stomped a hoof for emphasis. "We are better than that, Princess."

"If only the deer understood that," Celestia frowned. "So if it wasn't us, then who was it?"

"It could have been an accident, emerald fire is extremely volatile."

"'Accident' nothing; this reeks of whitetail deception." Corinthius tapped a hoof on the large map, where unit markers of Equestrian emblems surrounded the southern half of Evinwiir's immediate area. "From the very onset of this war we've seen how the whitetail will lie and manipulate to further their cause. Just look at River Run, and the poor civilians who were slaughtered there. Any logical creature would have realized it was the Nightmare Moon cults who carried out such murderous actions, but because those lunatics wore stolen Equestrian armor, suddenly we're a force for evil."

"Chancellor Artellus believed us," Celestia added. How she wished Artellus still lived -- things would be so different. Perhaps the war would have been avoided entirely.

"That he did, right up until the moment an Equestrian follower of Princess Luna drove a blade into his heart. In any case, those events served as a convenient fulcrum to shift popular opinion against us. Whitetail obviously has some long-standing issue with us we weren't aware of. I don't suppose you're closer to finding out why, Princess?"

Celestia shook her head. "Nearly half a year of conflict, I yet I still do not know what resentment they harbor. We have not been at war with Whitetail since before I was born, and even then, it was not war so much as it was a series of skirmishes under my father's command. I doubt that is the cause of all this."

"Excuse me for interrupting," Shadowstrike said, "but I believe we've long since passed the point of concerning ourselves with the 'why'. Instead, we should focus on the 'how'. Namely, how do we react to this event? If Whitetail and its government continues to ignore our missives, then we should show their people that we do not want to harm them, and that we do, in fact, have their best interests in mind."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Shadowstrike lifted one of the emblems from the table, a crescent moon against a black background -- the symbol for the Nightmare Moon cults. Its likeness dotted the map, with small encampments and reported movements displayed for all to see. "Obviously it was not our forces who destroyed a large portion of Evinwiir, and I highly doubt the whitetail would do such a thing to their own citizens, so that only leaves one culprit."

"My sister's followers?" Celestia asked. "Do you think they're capable of devastation on that level?"

"Considering they did not hesitate to launch a full-scale assault on Canterlot, this palace included, I would say they're entirely capable. Since most of the cultists are Equestrian, it would be easy to place false blame on us yet again. Hell, I'd posit that they're controlling much of this war without either side being aware of the extent. Luna -- excuse me, Nightmare Moon -- could be weakening our forces for an attack of her own. I wouldn't put it past her." Shadowstrike placed the emblem back down, feeling a pang of regret for mentioning Luna again. He hated doing so, but such was the reality of their situation. "It makes tactical sense. Let your opponents kill each other, and when they're depleted and battle-weary, move in to finish them off. We can't allow that to happen."

Lentius had been studying the map for some time, and waited until Shadowstrike was finished to speak his mind. "What we need is a preemptive assault on the cultist camps. We have to strike swiftly and decisively, before they can grow their numbers once more. It would free our soldiers from having to worry about anything but the whitetail--"

"--and it would show the whitetail that we want to be rid of my sister's worshipers just as much as they do," Celestia finished for him.

"Indeed so, Princess. I'd say it's a solid idea."

"Legatus Shadowstrike, where is the single largest concentration of these followers located? Do we have any idea?"

"We do, Your Highness." He pointed to a spot just to the northwest of Evinwiir, tucked into the mountains that divided Whitetail in two. "Here, in the Midlands. There are smaller camps spread out in the area, but this one resembles a fort more than the ramshackle groups of tents and lean-tos than we've seen from the others. We've been unable to get close enough for accurate descriptions, but what I can tell you is that it's walled-in and difficult to assault from the front."

"Can we remove it by force?"

"We could remove the entirety of Whitetail's population by force if you wanted," Corinthius added. Numerically we have more than enough soldiers to mount an attack, even with the cycle of leave and reinforcements."

Celestia nodded. "In that case, I want this fort taken as soon as possible, but I do not want to simply throw bodies at it until it falls. We need to be smart about it."

"Leave that to me, Princess. I'll dig around and see what units we have in the area that could contribute their finest. Getting a cohort together will take a few days at the most."

"Very well, General. I leave it in your capable hooves."

"As you wish, Princess," Corinthius answered with a salute.

"Shadowstrike, I want as much information as you can get from your network. Numbers, species, fighting ability, anything you can find. Also, once the operation is under way, I want every soldier to be aware that there is a reward for anything that can lead us to better understand the cults, especially communication pendants."

"Of course, Princess. I am at your service."

"Thank you. If both of you would report back to me by nightfall, I would greatly appreciate it." Celestia bowed her head in respect as the others saluted, and they were soon on their way. Legatus Lentius looked up at her as the doors closed.

"And what of myself, Your Highness? Do you not require my services in this matter?"

Celestia trotted across the room and retrieved a small scroll, bound in red twine and sealed with an official stamp of yellow wax. "I have something special in mind for you, Lentius. A mission of the utmost urgency." As she approached him she lowered her voice and quickly looked around to make sure they were alone. "I need you to personally deliver this to Battle-Master Gilias of the 44th Legion. Do you know of her?"

"She is the griffon who fights with us on 'unofficial' terms, yes. If you need me to find her, Princess, then I will do so with all due haste."

Lentius was one of the fastest fliers in all of Equestria, and loyal to the end. If anyone could carry out the princess' orders, it was him. "Thank you, Lentius. There is a lot riding on this missive. No one else, no matter their rank, is to read its contents."

As Lentius departed, Celestia had to laugh at how strange the whole situation was. The head of the Royal Guard, tasked with delivering a message to a war-hungry griffon from Skytalon, so that the followers of her fallen sister would be brought to justice before they could harm the whitetail, who wanted nothing less than her head on a spike.

With any luck, things would soon be much simpler.

The twelfth of Winter's Wind was to be an important day for Equestria, and an especially important day for Battle-Master Gilias, for it marked the first time that an all-out offensive on the cult of Nightmare Moon would be launched. For months the followers of the fallen princess had been a thorn in the side of Equestria's war efforts, even going so far as to launch unprovoked attacks on settlements in Whitetail, Cerivdae and the western border of Skytalon.

The massed assault on Canterlot had been a wake-up call of sorts for the armies of ponykind; the capital had previously been thought to be nigh impregnable against all but the most determined of forces, but those who slayed Equestrian soldiers and citizens in Nightmare Moon's name were not of a traditional army. They had blended in with the crowds, trickled into the city in small groups, and when the time was right, they had struck. It was a costly lesson to learn for Celestia and her advisers.

Today, Battle-Master Gilias and her charges would see to it that the cults would never again grow to such strengths. Nearly five hundred of Equestria's soldiers had joined with seventy of the Legion's finest, led by the 44th under Gilias' temporary command. Together they marched north, around Evinwiir where a black-green cloud still hung in the air, toward the mountainous region that split Whitetail into two distinct land masses. Here, it was said, was where the Nightmare Moon worshipers had set up their own fortifications, a staging point from which to launch attacks on the surrounding area.

In truth, Gilias wondered if such a thing was really necessary while the war still raged. Why not let the cultists cause as much chaos and confusion for the whitetail as possible? They could always be dealt with later.

Celestia had apparently thought differently, hoping that the elimination of the threat to Whitetail's well-being would serve as a show of good faith and, perhaps, would extend an olive branch for potential negotiations.

Gilias both admired and pitied the pony princess for her idealism, but as long as they kept paying her, she would keep fighting whatever battles they wanted. The incentive of finding a certain bit of intelligence for the Princess herself, with the promise of a big reward for doing so, was a welcome one.

The Midlands, as the whitetail called it, was a cold and rocky place. In many ways it reminded her of Skytalon and its mountain homes, the perfect shelter from the biting winds that swept through the peaks and valleys. Of course, no one had thought to dig into the mountains out here, a fact she lamented as windblown snow stung her face like razors, her plumage doing little to keep the weather away. The large force behind her was not fairing any better, judging by the swears and grunts as they trudged up a series of paths that would eventually lead them to their battleground. Pegasi flitted by overhead, shielding their eyes and looking for any sign of the cultists. So far, it had been a quiet affair.

"Shame Victus isn't here," Steel Spark said behind her, his voice muffled by a cloth he had secured around his face, leaving only his eyes and the tip of his muzzle exposed to the elements.

"Why's that?" Gilias asked.

"Because then we could hear him bitching for once. He hates the cold."

Gilias smirked at the thought of the usually resilient pegasus cursing and grumbling at her side. He would have been useful for reconnaissance, at least, with that white coat of his. She had grown to enjoy the ponies as more than simple fodder, but she still questioned their choice of aerial scouts. One would think a bright green or pink speck would be easier to spot than one that blended in.

"Everyone hates the cold, Equestrian. Hell, I've lived in it nearly every day for my entire life, and I still despise it. Still, Victus could complain all he liked if it meant having his blade at our sides."

"Truth," Steel Spark agreed.

"At least he gets to be home for a while, the lucky bastard," someone else said. "Why him and not us?"

"Because leadership comes with its own perks. Besides, you know him -- I'm sure he objected to being one of the few sent away for a while. Probably raised a scene down at the command post."

Steel Spark stared at the cloudy sky with a wistful look in his eyes. "What I wouldn't give to be in my own bed, with a belly full of hot food and a beautiful mare at my side. Or between my legs."

Gilias gave a short laugh. "If you could find a bed, I'd let you fuck me right about now if it meant getting out of this weather."

"Is that an offer?"

"Prove yourself in combat today and maybe then we'll see. Be warned, however, that I have a very sharp beak, and I won't hesitate to use it should you prove...unsatisfactory. I will be the last female you ever fail to please."

The others around her laughed and sounded off with crude words.

"I'll hold you to that, Battle-Master."

"Heh. I bet you will, Equestrian."

A pegasus landed in front of her and saluted, his red cloak flapping in the wind. "Legionary Windshear reporting, Battle-Master!"

Gilias returned the gesture. "What have you got for me?"

"Myself and several others have spotted the encampment ahead, perhaps an hour's march from here."

"Right, at least we're going in the proper direction. Details?"

"We could not get an exact count of their numbers, I'm afraid. They have their own flying lookouts consisting of a few pegasi and several griffons, so we had to stay out of sight. Judging by the size and number of tents we estimate no fewer than six to seven hundred of the cultist scum. We will have the advantage of surprise on our side at least, Celestia willing."

The pony made a circle over his armored chest, the symbol of the sun. Unsurprisingly, there were those who believed the Princess to be a living deity. Gilias thought it heretical to put one's faith in anyone but the Emperor, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Anything else of note? Traps, ambushes?"

"If such things are present we could not locate them. Best be on your guard, just in case."

"My thanks for the information. Keep an eye out, and if you see them begin to move, let me know immediately."

"Yes, Battle-Master."

The pegasus took to the sky again, wobbling as a gust of wind temporarily threw him off balance. Gilias stood on her hind paws and raised a claw in the air. "Listen up, ponies! We're not too far out from the camp, so keep your heads on a swivel and report anything you see that looks like it could try to tear you a superfluous breathing hole! The path narrows ahead, so I want you to form up six across! Keep the cohort together! Centurions, relay everything I've said to your stallions, I don't want a single mistake on our way up! Understood?"

A chorus of shouts answered her. Satisfied, she led the way up the mountain pass, her claws itching to grasp her curved swords once more. It wouldn't be long until she could add more kills to her total. The Emperor would be proud this day.

It was early afternoon before the Equestrian force came within striking distance of the Nightmare Moon battlements. Gilias and four pegasus Legionaries crouched behind a ridgeline of jagged rocks, observing the enemy below. They were well-organized and well-armed, though none of them seem to be on particularly high alert -- mostly they milled around the camp talking with one another or carrying out mundane tasks, with one of them occasionally stepping just outside the fort's tall, wooden walls to pull materials from a supply cache located under a tall, snow-covered fir tree.

"Should we really be this close?" one of the pegasi asked.

"Relax, the sun's at our backs. No one's gonna see us up here unless we want 'em to." Gilias watched with interest as a trio of griffons consulted with a hooded pony, then took the sky and flew off to the east. Scouts? Runners? Difficult to say. "This place is gonna be a stubborn bitch to crack open. Walls are too steep for non-flyers to climb, so that's out of the question. Not enough flat land to support a large force, even if we did get them all up here. Looks like we really will have to assault it from the front." She grimaced at the thought. "We're going to take a beating before we can even get to the gates. There's practically no cover after the bend in the path."

"It does widen as we approach, at least," another Legionary said, pointing to the well-worn road. "If we can avoid a bottleneck we should be able to approach with minimal casualties."

"We just need the initial century to be a distraction for the others. Everything else will fall into place after that. Hopefully." Given the defenses she could see from her vantage point -- including several bolt-throwing siege contraptions -- she didn't envy the first wave's chances of survival.

She turned as a pony landed beside her and immediately crouched. "Battle-Master, the cohort is ready. Centurions Krastis and Thundershield report that their charges are in position and awaiting your command. As well, a detachment of pegasi are gathered below, as you requested."

"What about the arcanists?" she asked, alluding to Equestria's most powerful magic users.

"They will perform their part, but they need a clear line of sight before they can execute the maneuvers you ask."

"So everything is riding on getting those gates open," she said, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, Battle-Master, it would appear so."

"Great." To say Gilias was apprehensive would have been putting it lightly. No plan survived contact with the enemy, so the saying went, and such a complex, multi-pronged attack relied on all of its parts working without fail. There was a lot of potential for things to go belly-up. "We need to make sure the ground pounders can get as close as possible without being spotted..." Gilias stuck out a claw. "You two, give me your body wraps."

The pegasi looked at each other, then her. "To what end?"

"Those flying look-outs will be the first to find us out. We need to remove them from the equation. Now, give me your damn clothing before I take it from you."

Begrudgingly they removed the warm, earth-colored lengths of cloth from their necks and hind quarters, shivering as a fresh wave of cold came over them.

"I thought you pegasuses were supposed to be more tolerant of the weather," she quipped as she secured the wrappings to her own body, covering up her Skytalon armor as best she could.

"Tolerant, not immune," one of them answered. "It's freezing up here, if you hadn't noticed."

"Stop your whining, you'll get 'em back soon enough. Now, watch my back."

With a powerful flap Gilias was airborne, keeping out of sight as she dipped between rock formations. She hovered in place as she looked around; there, above her, not too far ahead -- a pegasus wearing the dark blues and blacks of Nightmare Moon. Quickly she darted up behind the pony, pulling up alongside it. She let out a shrill whistle, causing the look-out to stumble through the air for a brief moment as he looked over in surprise.

"Brother, I may have found an interloper," she yelled over the blustering winds. The pony eyed her cautiously. "Will you come with me to check? Or would you like to explain to our brothers why you failed to perform your duties?" She was relieved when he nodded and fell in formation. Together they ducked behind a rock ledge, coming to a stop on an outcropping. "Just below us, down near the valley. Do you see it?" she asked, pointing at nothing in particular.

The pegasus held a foreleg to his brow and squinted against the snow. "I am not sure what--"

A curved sword took his head off in a single, clean strike, tumbling off the stony outcroppings below. Gilias kicked his body down after it and wiped the blood from her weapon. "One down."

A short time later she was airborne once more, continuing to fly a large, lazy circle around the edges of the camp. A few cultists looked up at her, but none paid her any particular attention -- except for a griffon who was flying its own patrol. Gilias waited until the follower was nearly at her side, then stopped and hovered in place with a wave of her claw.

"Hail, Sister!" she shouted above the wind. If not for the black-tipped plumage, Gilias thought, the griffon could have been a spitting image of herself. "The name's Gwinalin. Just got here a few days ago."

The other griffon stopped just before her and bowed her head. "Greetings, Gwinalin. I'm Gahltris of Mountain Home. I have not seen you around here."

"It's a big camp," Gilias shrugged.

"Indeed it is! You have heard the story of our Goddess' injustice, then?"

"I, uh, have, yes. It's truly something."

Gahltris smiled. "You still wear the armor of Skytalon? I know of some Equestrians who insist on doing the same."

"I do. Practicality comes first. After all, how am I to mock the Emperor and his servants without it?" Inwardly Gilias cursed for not covering herself better. Perhaps it was good fortune she'd come across another griffon, even if she was a traitor.

"Spilling blood in an affront to Skytalon's imperialistic ways? I can think of no better reason!"

"Yeah, that's what I figured. Hey, do you think you could come with me for a moment? I think I spotted a nonbeliever around here."

The griffon reached under her robes and produced a pair of curved blades that were decorated with the language of the Griffon Empire, the very same weapons Gilias herself had used for many years. She'd found another Battle-Master.

"If there are interlopers to be dealt with, Sister Gwinalin, then we shall do so together! You have much experience in battle, yes? Your scars speak to such things."

"I've been in a few," Gilias said. This wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought. "So you'll join me, then?"

Gahltris crossed her blades, a symbol of coming battle. "I have not tasted my enemy's blood in many years, but I am eager to do so again. Lead the way."

For a moment Gilias hesitated, then cautiously flew beyond the watchful eyes of the camp below. Cold winds blew against her face as she tucked her wings in briefly to pass under an arch, watching Gahltris do the same with flawless precision.

"It is rare to find another griffon out here," Gahltris shouted. "From where in Skytalon do you hail?"

"Icewind Caverns," Gilias answered, rounding an outcropping. She just had to find somewhere to put down...

"Ah, Icewind! I know it well! I lived there for some time after the war with Whitetail! Strange that we now find ourselves here, isn't it?"

"Yeah, life's odd like that." Gilias hated the idea of killing another war veteran, especially one that had fought in the same conflicts she had, but she had little choice.

A patch of hardy grasses caught her eye as she approached a low rise. It would have to do.

"Just around here," she said, "I think I saw them!"

She turned to look behind her, only to have a curved sword slice into the black and blue leather armor. She squawked in surprise and immediately went for her weapons, but before she could reach them Gahltris was upon her, swinging a blade that would have taken her head off had she not slammed into the side of a sharp cliff.

One of Gahltris' swords was flung from her claws by the force of the impact, and together they tumbled down until they came to a rest next to the skeletal husk of a tree. Gilias had her talons dug into Gahltris' shoulder, but her opponent had done the same to her right wing. They were battered and cut from the fall, but the rush of adrenaline was more than a match for such minor injuries.

"Did you really think I'd buy into your ruse, Battle-Master Gilias?" the traitor laughed, swinging her remaining sword down. It dug into the rock beside Gilias' head. Too close. "I know who you are, coward!" She punctuated her words with swipes and stabs, only failing to land a killing blow thanks to Gilias' quick action in pulling a hidden dagger from under her wing. If she used all of her strength she could stop the curved blades from plunging into her neck, but just barely.

"You fucking traitor," Gilias spit back, trying desperately to reach for one of her swords. A strike dug into her armor and cut along her ribs, and she yelled out in pain and anger. She expected Gahltris to mock her, to tell her that she would lose her soul to Nightmare Moon, like so many of the others were fond of saying, but Gahltris was pragmatic in combat. She had just gripped the pommel of her sword when she felt a hammer blow against her skull, and her sight went blurry like she had drank an entire barrel of nectar wine.

Gahltris headbutted her again, and her sight threatened to fade to black. She flailed her arms in an attempt to save herself, but the weapon raised above her head started to come down no matter how hard she struggled.

Then something slammed into her side, sending Gahltris careening off the tree trunk. Confused, she looked up in a haze and saw Steel Spark driving his blade into the griffon's chest before pulling it out and hacking one of her wings into a bloody mess of meat and feathers. His assault was relentless, a torrent of gladius strikes that continued unabated as Gahltris squawked and shrieked and flapped her ruined wings in panic. For the first time, Gilias was impressed, and a bit terrified, by the brutality of an Equestrian's actions. She was glad it wasn't her on the receiving end of it.

After well over a dozen thrusts Steel Spark drew his blade across Gahltris' throat, then turned and delivered a buck so powerful that it crushed the griffon's face in with a sickening, wet crunch, spraying gore and bits of bone against the snow-covered tree. He stood in place for several seconds, breathing heavily, before putting his weapon away and turning to face Gilias.

"I have no sympathy for those who would harm my companions," he said plainly. Blood had dripped down his weapon and stained his mouth red, and he spat on the ground at the copper taste of his defeated opponent. "Well? Are we going to finish our tasks or aren't we?" He stuck out a hoof, and Gilias grasped it as he helped pull her up.

"Thanks for saving my ass," she said, tucking the dagger back into its sheathe. "It was stupid to let my guard down like that." She was sore and bloody, but she'd live. Steel Spark helped her pull a small medical bag from her hip, and together they bandaged her wound.

"It happens. At least that griffon won't be harming anyone else now."

Gilias could only look at the mutilated body for a second before turning away. "Yeah, no shit." A fresh wave of pain shot through her as they pulled one of the wrappings tight. "She said she knew who I was. Apparently I'm becoming pretty well-known among these darkness worshiping assholes."

Steel Spark looked her over. "Is that bad?"

"Just means I'll have to kill anyone who recognizes me." She managed a smirk despite the pain, which got a laugh out of Steel Spark.

"It's times like these I'm thankful we're not at war with the Griffon Empire."

"After what you did to that poor bitch, I'd say the same for Equestria." Gilias spread her wings out and flapped them once to make sure everything was in working order. "Two more flying scouts are around here. Watch my back?"

"As always, Battle-Master. Can't complain about the view."

She looked over her shoulder as she took to the air.

"Damned right you can't."

Not far from the Nightmare Moon camp, Centurion Sanctus waited impatiently for the signal to move out. Behind him, one hundred and four Equestrian Guard soldiers stood ready, armed and armored for the coming fight. He walked the lines and spoke briefly with each of them, reassuring them that they would live through the battle if they remembered their training and prayed to the gods.

In truth, many of them would die. Most of the soldiers under his command were raw recruits, fresh from Equestria -- replacements for the veterans who had been sent home to see their families. They would be the first to face the wrath of the foul cultists, their hastati leading the way for the more experienced combat troops in the second and third ranks.

There were four centuries in total, equaling over four hundred and fifty earth ponies and unicorns. All of the pegasi, over seventy in total, had already set out to join Battle-Master Gilias. The element of surprise would be their greatest strength.

"How fare your stallions?" someone asked, and Sanctus looked up to see Centurion Spearhead. The tall earth pony wore a blue crest upon his helm, similar to Sanctus' own, but with a stripe of gold running down the middle, marking him as a particularly brave leader for his actions in combat.

"Frightened, but eager. Yours?"

"Same, same." Spearhead jerked his head toward the narrow pass ahead, the final obstacle before the fort. "Not looking forward to rushing through such confines. If the cultists have archers or siege weapons aimed at it we'll be walking into a slaughter."

Sanctus nodded. "Not like we have much choice. We'll have to form up with the others once we clear it and pray the griffon woman and her pegasi can do their duties."

"And the arcanists. And the Legion soldiers attached to them."

Spearhead looked over the huddled, shivering ponies before him.

"One thing at a time."

Drying blood coated both of Battle-Master Gilias' weapons and seeped down her armor, making her look like some kind of crazed animal for everyone to see. She wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Everyone listen up," she shouted as she clung to a rock face just behind the crest of the hill nearest the fort. Eighty-two pegasi locked eyes on her. "Once we move out we're going to stay in tight formation. Move as you need to to avoid arrows, but stay together if at all possible. I know this is the first time many of you will be seeing combat, so stay with the Legionaries, they're good fighters. If you get confused, just look for the red crests. Got it?" A gust of wind threatened to blow her from her perch, and she scrabbled to keep her footing. "Fuckin' Midlands. Once we release our payloads," she tapped the twine-wrapped bundles at her side, "we'll land and start hacking those fuckers apart. Don't stick around in one place for too long; touch down, get a kill, and take off again. Your armor isn't as thick as the rest of the Guard, so don't count on it to stop a direct hit from a blade. In and out. We just need to sow enough confusion and chaos to get your little pony friends into the fort itself. Don't be a damn hero, or I'll lop your head off myself. Understood?!"

"Hah-ooh!" they answered as one.

"That's what I like to fuckin' hear!" She dramatically spread her wings open with a powerful flap. "Let's get to it, ponies!"

A low, reverberating horn echoed through the canyon, and was soon answered by a higher, shorter return. Sanctus raised his signal flag to the others: it was time. He looked up in time to catch the tail end of the flying formation darting by, low and fast, led by the indomitable griffon he'd heard so many tales about. Now, he supposed, he would see whether she could live up to them.

"Century, combat formation!"

With practiced precision his stallions formed up into three lines, then turned to face the narrow opening. If they could just get through, they would be in a good position to assault the fort.

"Shields up!"

The lines interlocked their tower shields to form an impenetrable wall. The time for battle was upon them at last.

"Advance!"

34 - The Midlands (2/2)

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."

35 - In Search of an End

In the early morning light of a cold winter's day, Princess Celestia sat upon her bed, wrapped in layers of warm fabrics with a steaming cup of tea at her side. Before her, a spread of unrolled scrolls waited to be read; word from the attack on the Nightmare Moon camp in the Midlands. Initial reports told of victory, but at a heavy cost in dead and wounded. Of the five hundred Guard and Legion soldiers tasked with the mission, nearly two hundred had died, with another hundred wounded.

Celestia felt a knot in her throat at the unfortunate loss of so many lives. Were her advisers present, they would have told her that such things were simply the nature of warfare, and that her stallions had died fighting for what they believed in.

It did not make things any easier.

Setting aside the casualty reports, she instead levitated a scroll that was marked by two wings crossed over a mountain, the symbol of Skytalon. Curious, she pulled it closer. It was written in Equestrian, but the words were marked by the angular slashes and aggressive lines of griffon writing.

"To the pony princess," it started. Celestia raised an eyebrow at the informal language. Usually the missives she received were positively overflowing with flowery prose and pomp. "I'm not very good at this whole 'messages to royalty' thing, but your milk-drinking clerks said they'd deliver this to you if I wrote it. I'm sure you've received the reports already about the Midlands. Bloody fight, I can tell you that. We won, though, just like we always do, thanks in no small part to yours truly.

Anyway, I'm not writing you to fluff my own feathers, I wanted to pass on something I thought you might be interested in. Namely, it concerns Cervidae and the redtail."

'Interested' was right. It had been some time since the discovery of the true purpose of Elinwynn's pendant, and her apparent connection to Luna. What was the redtail Empress playing at? Without any further evidence, it was hard to say for sure.

"After we cleared the camp of darkness-worshiping scum sacks, we came upon what appeared to be a hidden room in the largest tent. Before we could investigate we were set upon by a trio of highly skilled magic users, all does: two whitetail and one redtail, the latter appearing to be a leader of some kind. Between the three of them we lost quite a few soldiers, but in the end they too fell before us.

After I got patched up, I got to thinking: why hadn't they been there supporting the main force of cultists? I had a look around that hidden room of theirs, and discovered a bunch of ashes and burnt scrolls in a fire pit. Orders, probably. I don't know from whom they came, but I thought you might. If I had to guess, I'd say they were counting on us not finding them before they could finish getting rid of the evidence. I've included a drawing of a symbol I found on the corner of one of the burnt scrolls, one of the few things that survived the fire. We found a few of those medallions, too, but they'd already been stomped into shattered bits. Oh well.

That's all I've got for now. I'll let you know if we find anything else. Emperor watch over you.

-Battle-Master Gilias"

Not finding an intact medallion wasn't of any great concern, now that Celestia knew what they did -- and whom they communicated with. She had no urge to speak with the thing that used to be Luna any time soon.

The symbol, however, piqued her interest.

The sketch Gilias had made was rough, but discernible, and appeared to show a whirlpool or vortex of some sort, with a stylized eye on either side. Something about it seemed familiar, but Celestia couldn't place her hoof on it. What did it mean, and why was there a redtail seemingly in charge of the whitetail arcanists in the middle of a Nightmare Moon camp?

Puzzled, she floated the scroll into a saddlebag and threw it over her back. If there were any answers to be found, the royal library would be the place to find them.

"This is a terrible idea, Victus. I want you to know that before we begin."

Victus hovered at eye level with Tercio, clad in his steel and gold armor, seemingly unfazed. For nearly two days he had tried to convince Tercio to let him help defeat this 'darkness' that so tortured him, but he had not had an easy time of it. Tercio had objected and argued at every available moment, reminding his brother that he had nearly killed the most powerful being in Equestria with his bare hands, despite her magic. Victus didn't care; he only wanted to help, and he would not hear otherwise.

"I'm a Legionary, Tercio. Terrible ideas are my specialty."

"This isn't a joke. Who is here to stop me if you can't?" Tercio motioned to the empty woods around them. A chill breeze rustled the barren branches that reached skyward like skeletal fingers covered in rime and day-old snow.

"I'll be fine, I promise. You may be agile and strong, but last I checked, you can't fly. I can just stay above you if I have to."

Tercio gave up with a sharp exhale. "Gods, you always were the stubborn one, I swear. Alright, fine. We'll do this. But I want you to swear to me that you won't let me harm you, do you understand?"

"Don't worry so--"

"Swear it, Victus!"

"Alright, alright, I swear. I won't let you tear my throat out! Now can we get on with it already? If we take too long Mother is going to worry herself sick. You know how she is."

Tercio mumbled to himself as he snatched a length of rope from the his rucksack, then passed it to Victus. "I don't know how we're supposed to snap me out of it once it's started. In the past I have had to be rendered unconscious, which is obviously too dangerous to rely upon -- for both of us. At times I've managed to resist its influence and become myself again, but never without some sort of traumatic experience. Just because I have not given in to it twice now, does not mean it will not emerge stronger."

Victus shrugged as he circled the tree Tercio had chosen to be tied to, wrapping the rope around his torso over and over. "I'll figure something out. And hey, we have your Luna sword if we need it."

"Nocturne," Tercio corrected him, jerking against the ropes. They didn't so much as budge. At least Victus seemed to know what he was doing in that regard.

"Right, Nocturne. We'll see what happens." Satisfied with his work, Victus landed with a squelching of wet soil. He just had to laugh at the sight. "When I received word that I would be on leave, I hadn't expected to spend it tying my brother to a tree. This isn't some sort of...thing you're into, is it? Because that would be a bit strange."

"Just do like we discussed, you ass," Tercio answered with a laugh of his own. It was so surreal; tied up in the middle of the woods by his own sibling, waiting for the inevitable loss of sanity that came with the onset of his affliction. It was too strange to not find some sort of humor in.

The smile faded from Victus' face as the reality of their situation set in. He finished tying a knot in the thick rope and said, "I hope this works."

"It will. I trust you." A pull against his bindings made sure he couldn't move. "Victus, if you are somehow unable to help me, if it looks like I will harm you or anyone else -- especially, gods forbid, Mother and Father -- I want you to promise me you'll do whatever it takes to stop me. Even if it costs me my life."

"It won't come to that," Victus said reassuringly.

"But if it does?"

"If it does, then...I'll worry about it then and there. But only if I absolutely must."

"Right, I'll take your word for it. We'll see what happens." It was suddenly quiet between them as Tercio steeled himself against what would inevitably be a traumatic experience for both of them.

"You ready?" Victus asked.

"I suppose I am," Tercio said nervously. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of cold, clean air. Half-remembered scenes of battle played before him, foggy glimpses of violence and struggles. These, he knew, were the fragments of the times when he had fallen under the magic within his own body. Distant voices sounded all around him, snapping into clarity as he focused on them. He could hear the words of Alinalyys as she taunted him, both in her own language and Equestrian.

"Vala--Valadriix parn ind'wyyl," he said out loud, matching his mouth to the doe in his visions. The words were as clear as day, as if they'd somehow stuck with him since the attack near Canterlot.

Victus repeated the phrase back to his brother, just as they'd discussed, the foreign words feeling strange on his tongue. He had no way of knowing what they meant. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Strange, like...like I can't understand the words, but I can feel them," Tercio answered, his eyes still shut tight. "The doe who tried to take me away, she was the one who said that phrase. I can see her now just as plainly as if she were standing before me."

"And what do you 'feel' from these words?"

"It is hard to describe, but...a sense of purpose, as if I am carrying out an assigned task. It's so strong. Maybe...valadriix parn...Victus, untie me."

Victus cocked his head. "What?"

"Untie me, I can't do this if I'm--"

"Absolutely not. We had a deal, remember?"

"Untie me!" he shouted, jerking against the ropes that strained with his weight. He rested his head against the rough tree bark and shut his eyes once more. "I'm sorry. I just had the strongest urge to be free."

"Because of the words?"

Already he felt some small part of him giving in."Yes. Do you see the power they hold over me? Even the smallest of phrases alters my mind so."

Now he was back in the sparring ring, shortly after joining the Praetorians. Clashing steel flashed and glinted in his mind's eye, his opponents swiftly defeated one after another. Polaris matched him blow for blow, a stalemate of martial skill that caused murmurs of excitement from the others. "I'm ready, brother. Say the word."

Victus hesitated, taking a half-step back. He wanted to help, truly he did, but he did not know if he was ready to see the brother he'd grown up with in such a terrifying state as he'd been told. "Just give me a moment," he said, almost pleadingly. It was possible he would never speak with Tercio again if things went wrong. How would he possibly explain such a thing to their parents? Tears threatened to well up in his eyes, and he turned to wipe them away without being seen. "Alright. Let's be rid of this darkness within you, gods willing. I will not let you suffer under its grasp for a day longer."

The great halls of Canterlot's royal library never seemed to stop growing. Every time Celestia visited the old building there was a new book shelf or chest full of scrolls, and the further one walked into its depths the further back in time they were transported. Paper gave way to parchment, parchment to papyrus. Look hard enough, and ancient runes could be found etched into stone tablets. The entire history of the ponykind, preserved for the ages.

Unfortunately, its vast size made finding a particular piece of history difficult at times. Celestia pulled the note from her bag and looked at it once more, studying the symbol that looked so similar but continued to elude her. Nearly half an hour of fruitless searching had passed, full of stacked books and unrolled scrolls. It had to be recent history, she was sure of it.

Eventually she came across a stack of scrolls from over two centuries past, dusty and unused for countless years. They had been bound together with a tag that read "On the Status of Equestria and Her Neighbors - Hostile and Allied".

Hopeful, she levitated the scrolls over to a large table and spread them out before her. There were dozens of them, hearkening back to the earliest days of her rule, when her sister was still too young to join her on the dais. She'd been less than two hundred years old at the time, barely more than an awkward filly by the standards of her parents.

The first pair of scrolls turned out to be nothing more than stockpile statistics and storage availability. If nothing else, it was good to see that Equestrian grain production had not tapered in the last two hundred years.

After that came a lengthy, dry description of military formations and ceremonial pomp, presumably intended for the Royal Guard. Some of the names were still familiar, memories of proud service to the crown from stallions who had long since passed on to the next life. Their descendants likely had never heard of them, but Celestia could remember their faces like they had just stood before her. How many more names would live on only in records during her rule? How many more would she forget?

She shook her head and set the scroll aside. No point in worrying about such things for the moment.

Soon she came across a long length of parchment that had been stamped with the royal seal of the sun and moon. "The Armies of the Deerfolk, a Compendium". The old document was written in the same dry, official language as the others, but something was different: a set of intricately detailed symbols stretched along the top as a sort of index. They were as varied as the flowers in her garden, and sometimes nearly as beautiful. The deer had always had a penchant for aesthetics, from the sweeping curves of their homes to the glimmering crystal and marble towers of their capital. So, too, did their fighting forces share this trait; detailed quinn-blades crossed over segmented shields, raven heads against a backdrop of tall trees, geometric patterns that formed themselves into delicate frost sprays like a thousand windblown snowflakes.

And there, near the end of the stack of pages, she saw it: the symbol that had been sent to her all the way from the Midlands, deep within the heart of Whitetail. A pair of eyes, feminine yet firm, stared back at her, drawn in thin strokes of black ink. Between them, a cyclone of purple magic. She looked to the scroll, then to the missive from Gilias, making sure they were the same.

It was an exact match. She had seen that symbol before, long ago. Rejuvenated by the find, she levitated the information scroll before her and read the detailed print.

"9th Arcane and Ethereal Research Collective, Whitetail Primarus and associated legions. Formerly part of the 3rd Magii, the 9th Arcane is an offshoot of Whitetail's extensive studies into magical forces both in their lands and abroad.

Details on their operations and methodologies are limited, due to their insistence on individual units remaining mostly scattered and independent of one another. Evidence of cross-factional (Redtail and Whitetail) co-operation is limited, but given the level of magical prowess it is unlikely that such efforts are solely the focus of one or the other.

Recommend continued observation and infiltration, by order of General Plaesius Mercius and General Threshwheat, 2E 208."

A note was written under the text in red ink: "9th Arcane believed destroyed by Legion operations as of 2E 214. Destruction of the Second confirmed. All information gathering is hereby halted by order of Princess Luna, 2nd of the Court."

Celestia gasped. When had Luna ordered such a thing? It had been a dark time for Equestria and Whitetail, of that there was no doubt, but Luna had always consulted with her before issuing royal edicts, especially at such a young age. Who were the 9th Arcane, and why hadn't she been told of its connection to the Second? It seemed that Luna had known far more than she had let on, but she could not be sure to what end.

Something was going on in Whitetail, something very wrong. Luna, Nightmare Moon, the 9th, Elinwynn, Corvalix, the deer on both sides of the border...somehow they were all connected, pieces of an incomplete puzzle.

That night, Celestia dreamed of Luna for the first time in weeks. They stood in a clearing in the middle of the forest, clad in protective armor that left only their flowing manes and tails exposed. Dead and dying littered the ground, deer and pony alike.

At her side, Luna breathed heavily, her silvered plate dirtied by fresh blood that glinted in the moonlight. She was so young, so beautiful, but her innocence had been snatched away from her in a single day. Where once there was compassion and kindness, now only bitterness and resentment was left.

"It is done," dream-Luna said, her voice distorted as if carried on the wind. "We have slain the Second."

Celestia forced herself to glance at the shattered corpse laying at her hooves before quickly turning away with a sour taste in her mouth. So many lives lost, and for what? Where had it come from? Why had it chosen now to return?

"Are you alright?" Celestia asked in concern.

"We have succeeded where Mother and Father failed, sister. There is little more we could ask for. Our citizens may once again sleep without fear." Luna pulled the helm from her head and dropped it to the ground. "Shortly we shall begin walking among the dreams of Equestria's commoners. The sleeping mind does not lie, nor does it speak condescendingly in words couched in flowery platitudes. We grow weary of such things."

"They were scared, Luna," Celestia argued. "Can you really blame them? That is why they came to us."

Luna ignored her sister, yanking her sword from the body with a trail of white magic sheathed in sparkling midnight. "We cannot allow this to happen again, no matter the cost. Swear to me, dearest sister, that such a tragedy shall never befall Equestria again under our watch."

"You know I would do anything in my power to--"

"Swear it!" Celestia hesitated as her sister took a step forward and glared at her with barely-contained anger. "If we should find those responsible for this monster, we shall see every last one of them driven unto the blade!" Luna stuck an accusatory hoof against Celestia's armored chest. "Look around you, Celestia, and know that they died because you chose mercy! You are weak!"

With a start Celestia woke from her restless slumber, her heart pounding in her ears. She had not seen Luna in her waking hours for nearly a month, but now, somehow fittingly in a perverse way, she was tormented in her dreams. She clutched her pillow against her chest, and wished she could turn back time.

Tercio suddenly slumped, his head hanging loosely against his chest. Long seconds passed before he attempted to stand upright again, and as he did so it was clear that he was struggling against something. He grunted in pain and gritted his teeth, shaking with untold anger, but Victus saw that he was still himself for the moment.

"I can feel it inside me, like a sickness. It's so hard to...to focus."

It had been less than a minute since Victus had twice spoken the deertongue word to his brother. Watching him writhe in anguish against an unknowable enemy was something he didn't think he'd ever forget.

"What do you see?"

"Blood. Everywhere. And you, right there, so close...so weak. I could..." Tercio formed his hands into fists as he started to pull against the ropes, locking eyes on his brother like a hunting predator.

"Tercio?" Victus stepped back, terrified by what he saw. Tercio was straining so hard that the ropes were digging into his skin, drawing small drops of blood as they cut into him. It was a battle of the mind, and one that he was losing with every second. He fought with all of his might to escape his confines, his face now a mask of insatiable bloodlust and anger that sent a chill down Victus' spine. "Fight it, Tercio! You have to! You've beaten it before, don't let it control you!"

For a moment Tercio threw his head back against the tree trunk, shaking and convulsing as he tried to gain control of his own body and mind once more. His eyes snapped open, and for a brief time he spoke as himself in a strained, halting voice.

"The...the sword, Victus! Give..."

And then he was gone, lost to the darkness within once again. Victus hesitantly pulled Nocturne from a ring mount on his side, watching as it glowed with magical energy. It seemed to jerk forward on its own, nearly yanking itself from his mouth, fighting to be reunited with its owner.

Slowly he approached his brother, unsure if giving such a weapon to someone who was clearly not of his own mind was a good idea. But if it would help...

Tercio grabbed for him as he came close, pulling a trail of red hairs from the crest of his helm.

"Equestrii...fal'naas endwyyl!"

The deertongue words came from Tercio's mouth, but his voice was rough and harsh. Nocturne shook in Victus' grasp, almost struggling against him. Its hilt grew hotter until it burned like a heated forge, and he dropped it with a shout of pain, letting it tumble into the snow where it sizzled and steamed.

He was nearly in a panic as he removed his insulating winter garments and wrapped them around his forelegs, using the fabric as a barrier to pick up the sword. Cautiously he moved to closer to Tercio, noticing that the grip no longer seemed hot as it approached its owner.

"Take it," he said, keeping his wings out and ready to escape if he had to. "Take it!"

As Tercio made a frenzied grab for him, the fingers of his hand brushed against the silvered steel. For a time the madness in his eyes faded, and he inhaled sharply as he fought against himself. He quickly took the sword in his grasp, clutching it against his chest. He tried to speak but the words would not come to him, caught in his throat as he coughed and gasped for air.

The runes along Nocturne's fuller started glowing, subtle and faint, with the colors of the night. Soft white light soon joined it, starting from the pommel and working its way up to the tip of the blade. Then, all at once, the light shot back down through the sword and rushed into Tercio's hand, snaking its way up through his arm in dozens of tendrils of magical energy that almost seemed to be alive.

Victus could do little more than watch in disbelief as the light reached Tercio's chest and spread out, surrounding his heart. And then it stopped, as if it had hit a wall. Tercio spasmed with a pained choking sound, his body straining and shaking, and that's when Victus saw it -- the black mass that had begun to push back against the magic of Luna's sword. It was nearly incorporeal, a faint, smokey cloud of roiling fog that swirled and churned under his brother's skin like a storm cloud. It clashed with the light, enveloping and consuming it, and within moments it had spread to nearly his entire body.

Tercio was plainly in agony, tears streaming down his face. What could Victus hope to do? He shouted encouragement, but it felt like a hollow gesture against something as terrible and powerful as the force that had finally revealed itself.

Nocturne would not give up so easily. Soon it was wrapped in a coalescing sheathe of sparkling, glinting magic, almost blindingly bright, a beacon of pure energy that lit up the forest all around.

"I...I know what I have to do," Tercio said as the dark magic seeped into his eyes and distorted his voice.

"What do you mean? Tercio, what do you have to do?!" Victus stepped closer again, wishing desperately that he could do something, anything to help.

Resisting his own body, Tercio grabbed onto the sword with both hands, grasping it above the hilt, and flipped it over so that the tip of the blade was pointed at him. The dark force inside him knew what was coming, felt it stirring through his mind, and it sent a wave of pain through his body like a stream of molten metal. He yelled out in agony and retched onto the ground, but he would not give in, no matter how much it cost him.

"I love you, brother."

The last specks of white in his eyes dissolved into inky blackness, and with a shout he plunged the blade into his chest.

"No!" Victus leapt into the air and sliced the ropes away as a spurt of blood stained Tercio's lips and rolled down his chin. He struggled and twitched for a scant few seconds before falling to the wet soil, the color draining from his face with the bloodied point of Nocturne protruding from his back.

"Oh, gods! Tercio! Tercio!"

With the last ounce of his strength Tercio took a pained, choking breath, looking up at Victus with pleading eyes.

And then there was only the blowing of the wind through the trees, and the silence as Tercio fell still.