Baer'barisater sat at the edge of his cot, overlooking the letter for what must have been the tenth time that morning. It was such a simple thing, an unassuming little sheet of folded reed paper marked with Zevran's official stamp. It had arrived the day before, surprisingly brief and to the point.

With this document, let it be known that we, the Zevran Tribal Council, summon Praetorian-in-Service Baer'barisater Um'bwalle Nazaeim to his Homeland for the purposes of annual ritual and the continued communication between Zevran and Equestria. We expect to return him to Equestrian service by the rise of the next full moon. Our thanks for your understanding of tradition and commitment to international cooperation.

Bear turned the paper over, as if expecting a new letter to magically appear on the reverse. He knew he was wasting time by sitting around the barracks when there was so much on the line, but surely a few minutes would not make a difference, would they? He needed them, cherished them, for they were possibly the last moments he would have to himself for weeks to come. The Equestria he returned to -- if he returned at all -- would likely be a very different place than the one he left.

The sound of sword and shield clashing, a burst of collective laughter in the distance. Bear smiled to himself; he would miss the ponies and the brotherhood they shared. Fighting under the banner of their nation had taught him many things about the nature of conflict, things that made him a better soldier. Sometimes, those things kept him awake at night. He knew he was not alone in those thoughts.

More than anything, he feared the war with Whitetail was about to enter a new, decidedly more deadly phase, yet he could not tell a single soul about it. Caethil had burdened him with the knowledge of Cervidae's takeover, disguised as help from the outside. His worst fear -- that the elder shaman was right in his visions -- was coming to life. He wanted to shout it to the entirety of Equestria's military, and to Princess Celestia, and he had no doubt it would save many lives in the short run if he did so.

But for all of its military might, Equestria was not invincible. The forces of the redtail would sweep over the ponies like a tidal wave, and Equestria's armies would falter and collapse under the crushing weight of the united deer front. In the end, many more lives would be lost, and Equestria herself may cease to exist.

No, he couldn't tell anyone. They would deny his request to return home, and without the testimony of Brother-Commander Caethil the zebras would likely never agree to enter the war. Would they, too, fall to the deer? He could not take that chance.

"Spirits guide me in my time of strife," he whispered into the wooden idol clasped between his hooves. He folded the letter and placed it into a pouch at his side, then gave a thorough check of his supply bag. It was loaded down with camping gear, and he pursed his lips bitterly at the thought of having to spend more nights in the cold and snow of Equestria's forests. It would be a long trek to Zevran from there.

One thing at a time.

Bear hefted the pack over his strong shoulders, pulling on straps until it fit comfortably against his back. He carried no armor, and had only his dagger for defense. The only thing left to do now was present the letter to Princess Celestia, and hope she accepted it. He would leave either way, but doing so with her permission would certainly make things easier.

A pang of guilt squeezed his insides. The princess had no idea what was coming. He prayed she would forgive him later.

With a calming breath he left the Praetorian barracks, his focus set entirely on the task ahead. His journey would be trying, but he at least had the prospect of traveling through friendly territory. Somewhere out there, Caethil and his soldiers would be facing the spectre of outright treason against the nation they loved.

Perhaps, he thought, he should be asking the spirits to aid them instead.

"Stay close, senators. Do not stop to speak with anyone." Brother-Commander Caethil kept his head on a swivel as the group made steady progress through Evinwiir's northern quarter. Soldiers and civilians alike moved to the sides of the cobblestone roads, bowing or saluting in respect. As far as they knew, it was yet another military escort for three of Whitetail's most respected figures. Caethil intended to keep it that way.

His stomach rumbled as he remembered he had not eaten since the previous night. Food would have to wait; the mighty gates of daerilaas vir wyldiin, the Whistling Wilds, loomed ahead in the rising sun, grand structures taller than any building and strong enough to withstand any onslaught. Their shining marble and gold facade hid a lattice of steel and iron-bark. It would take months of bombardment from even the mightiest of armies to fell them. A similar gate guarded each of the cardinal directions, the only ways into or out of the city. They were, unsurprisingly, among the most heavily guarded places in all of Whitetail, and certainly in Evinwiir. Each gate could boast dozens of siege engines lining the equally massive wall that surrounded the city itself, with numerous shorter-range weapons and entire divisions of soldiers standing watch.

It would not be easy to get through without rousing suspicion, but they had to try. Caethil called for civilians to make way as they approached, his soldiers in lock-step behind him with what few spears they possessed held high in practiced precision.

Several civilians were standing in a short line at the gate, waiting to be let out. Each presented a scroll saying that they were permitted to leave, and as each one walked through the open gates they were met with a pair of soldiers that would escort them to the main road just beyond the city. Caethil swore under his breath -- he had completely neglected to create a writ of passage.

"We may require use of your silver tongues, my friends," he said to the senators. "I hope you can talk your way out of this if need be."

Senator Gwindihr chuckled. "Brother-Commander Caethil, talking our way out of pointlessly complicated situations is our specialty."

"I thought it was 'arguing for hours and accomplishing nothing.'" Alyys added.

"One and the same, my fellow blowhard."

"Blowhard," he laughed. "We may be blowhards, but at least we're not up to our muzzles in Elinwynn's hind quarters like the chancellor."

"They are rather shapely hind quarters," Gwindihr smirked.

Caethil looked over at them. "While I can appreciate your wit, senators, do remember that not everyone is going to share our views. Do try to keep such things quiet until we've passed through the gate."

Minutes passed as one whitetail after another presented their scroll, carried on, and met their escorts. Finally at the front of the line, Caethil stepped forward and saluted to the soldier on duty, a middle-aged stag like himself who wore the rank insignia of an officer.

"Good day to you, Brother-Captain," Caethil said. "I trust things have been smooth thus far?"

The officer rendered a salute in return, crisp and clean. "Yes, sir. Nothing to report. Our defenses are fully operational and our soldiers are fit and ready for combat at a moment's notice." He saw the senators and bowed. "My greetings, senators. Please excuse me, I was not aware I should be expecting such important guests."

"I'm afraid it was rather last-minute business that called upon us," Praxilus said. "Brother-Commander Caethil has graciously volunteered to have his unit serve as our escorts to Eldwix."

"Eldwix, eh? The road to that place passes through Equestrian-controlled territory. You're going to have to take the long way around, north of the ponds." The officer unrolled a map and studied it for a short time. "Are you sure you can't wait for another day? I have it on good word that the entire area will soon be cleansed of the verminous ponies."

Praxilus shook his head. "I'm sorry to say we cannot. Our business is of the utmost urgency and secrecy."

"Of course, of course. Do be careful, then." He held out a hoof and gestured to Caethil. "If I may see your travel ledger, sir, we can get you on your way with only minimal delay."

Caethil patted himself down, as if eagerly searching for the nonexistent scroll. One of the senators played along, asking impatiently if he'd brought it with him. Caethil swore out loud.

"I knew I'd forgotten something. Damnation. Can't you present one of your own ledgers?"

"Senators do not carry such things, Brother-Commander. That is a job left to our escorts. Are you telling me we spent an hour and a half crossing through town, yet you did not think even once to bring the ledger? What sort of operation are you running?" Alyys tapped an accusatory hoof against Caethil's chest.

"The one that is tasked with protecting you, Senator. Do not forget that." He gave a final check to his packs, muttering "politicians" under his breath contemptuously. He gave up with a sigh. "Brother-Captain, I do believe there's been a mistake. I take full responsibility for it."

"You know the rules, sir. No ledger, no exit. I'm afraid I can't make an exception even for these fine senators."

Praxilus stepped between Alyys and Caethil. "Sir, I realize it is not my place to ask such a thing, but perhaps you can let us pass this one time? Eldwix has dire need of our services, and if we don't arrive on time then I fear their monthly ration negotiations will go unfulfilled. I would hate to see them starve over a petty scroll."

The officer stood firm, but his stance eased up ever so slightly. "Like I said, Senator, I cannot let anyone through without it. I'm sorry, those are the rules, and as a soldier I must follow them."

A gust of cold wind brought with it the sound of shouted marching orders, no more than a few streets away. There was no time to waste arguing.

"I admire your commitment to duty, my good Brother-Captain. You do your post proud, and we should be lucky to have soldiers like you protecting us, but do try to see reason. Eldwix has been suffering from supply shortages for months, and they are on the very precipice of falling to the filthy Equestrians. We must get down there as soon as possible."

"Certainly we would put in a good word for you upon our return," Senator Gwindihr added. "Just think: you could be the stag responsible for saving hundreds of lives! The senate looks quite favorably upon such things, I assure you."

Praxilus nudged him. "That is, of course, unless you'd prefer to play a bureaucrat for the months and years to come. If you're satisfied with your station then far be it from me to suggest moving upward, but opportunity awaits those who seek it."

Beside them, Caethil tensed. Honeyed words did not work on everyone; especially, in his experience, old soldiers. If he absolutely had to he would draw his blade, but such an action was likely to be suicidal.

"...fine, you can go, but I do this for the deer of Eldwix, not for you," the officer said. "Just try not to make it a common practice. Do try to be more cautious, Brother-Commander, for these politicians are your charges, not mine."

"Duly noted," Caethil said with a bow. "I assure you, it will not happen again." Visibly relieved, the senators offered their thanks in turn. Praxilus, in particular, placed a hoof upon the other's shoulder and offered a prayer of good fortune.

"You are a kind soul, Brother-Captain. Please, take these as our collective payment for your time." A short, curved flask and a small purse of coins floated from one of the pouches at his side and was stuffed into the soldier's ration bag. "Now then, it's been a rather difficult morning and my colleagues would prefer to arrive before sundown. I promise you, I will not forget your kindness." He turned to Caethil. "Carry on, Brother-Commander. We must not tarry."

Caethil called his soldiers to attention, then marched the group through the towering gates. Had he not been under watchful eyes, he would have broken into a fit of laughter. It had actually worked! Any doubts he'd had about Praxilus and his ilk had vanished, and for the first time that morning he truly felt that escape was possible.

"You have a sharp tongue and a quick wit, Senator. Veteran soldiers like him are typically less flexible than a stone pillar," he said as they approached the main road that ran from Evinwiir out to the western approaches, where the road would split into many paths -- and where they would soon leave it entirely. Small bands of civilians passed each other, making way as the formation approached. Here and there the young bucks under Caethil's command would excitedly whisper to someone next them, exclaiming how they actually had a chance. Spirits were high, without a doubt.

Praxilus kept a serious facade, though he made no attempt to hide the relief in his voice, tinged with just a bit of mirth.

"Everyone wants more, Caethil. More power, more wealth, more fame...it's simply a matter of plying someone with the proper incentives. Would you claim to be any different? I will admit I feel somewhat ashamed that I cannot fulfill my promise to him. I've no idea what the coming days, months, even years may bring, but if he should survive then I will endeavor to keep my end of the bargain."

"That is a very big 'if', Senator," Caethil said grimly as several of his soldiers laughed at an off-color joke, a way to keep the stress of their escape at bay. Praxilus kept his gaze forward.

"A fact I am only too aware of, my friend, but we are free of Evinwiir's grip for the time being. It is a good start."

"Good morning to you, Brother-General. I trust all is well?" A pleasant young doe approached Corvalix with a smile, a small collection of stone bowls floating in front of her. Twin sashes of white and blue formed a crisscross over her chest, the uniform of indentured servants who were nearing the end of their time under the tutelage of a master. "I have your meal as you requested it: oat bread with apricot curd, diced cucumber in spiced olive oil, and a selection of winter berries. I'm afraid we've run out of tomatoes for the time being. My sincerest apologies."

Corvalix gave her a reassuring smile and motioned for her to set the bowls before him. They clacked against the oak and quartz table, a decanter of spiced juice joining them a moment later.

"I understand times are difficult, my dear. Please, do not concern yourself with what is missing, but instead, focus on what is available. This is far more extravagant of a meal than I'd truly expected, and certainly more than a stubborn buck like myself deserves." The doe giggled politely and bowed. Corvalix tasted a bit of his cucumber salad, arching his eyebrows dramatically at the taste. "Truly magnificent. You do your instructor proud, Miss...?"

"Kiraala, Brother-General."

"Miss Kiraala. I dare say you'll be cooking for royalty soon if this wonderful assortment is anything to go by." A pat of fruit curd was spread around his bread, and he found it to be equally pleasing. Inferior though the Whitetail may have been in nearly every regard when compared to his kind, they did, at least, create some wondrous food. "How long until you're able to return to your home village?"

"Three moons, possibly four," Kiraala said, he voice full of hope. "It's been three years, but I've learned so much. I truly owe Madam Fryys more than I can ever repay her."

"Tell her Brother-General Corvalix sends his regards, would you? And if you should happen to be in Cervidae at some point, do not hesitate to call upon me. To have a guest who is as attractive as the food she creates is truly a rarity." Corvalix sipped his drink and smiled playfully. "One cannot help but wonder if both would taste equally sweet."

Kiraala blushed and began stepping away. "I s-should probably leave you to your meal, Brother-General. But I do appreciate the, um...offer. I've never been to Cervidae. Perhaps once it is safe to do so I can see about paying a visit. If-if you'd like, that is. And you did offer, so...yes, well, enjoy your food, I shall check back shortly."

She nearly tripped over herself as she went back to the kitchen. Corvalix chuckled to himself once she was out of view, pulling a stack of reports from his pack and sorting through them with cursory glances. You always did have father's charm, he could hear Elinwynn saying. She'd grown used to seeing some doe or other -- sometimes multiple -- leaving his palatial quarters at all hours of the morning.

What he wouldn't have given to be back home, away from this unfortunate matter of pulling Whitetail's ass out of the fire. Perhaps, he mused, Evinwiir would be his new home once it was over and done with. Elinwynn had said she was considering giving him regional control of the post-unity government, after all...

All in due time. For now there was much to catch up on: scouting reports from both whitetail and redtail runners, supply line verifications to sign off on, damage assessment from the night's bombardment, a reported fire at a research building, requests for more provisions for the soldiers he had hidden within the dense forests to the north, far from prying pegasus eyes. He pored over each as he ate, filling in his signature where required and adding addendums to notes that would be passed on to the local commanders.

Galloping hoofsteps caught his attention as he was nearly through. A young buck stopped before him a moment later, breathing heavily and hastily saluting. Sigils on his armor showed him to be from the Capital Guard.

"At ease, boy, at ease. I assume whatever you're going to tell me is of the utmost urgency, for I do not enjoy being roused from my morning meal."

The soldier visibly gulped before speaking. "Yes, sir, my sincerest apologies, sir. I was told to report to you with all due haste. I have a message from Brother-Healer Candoran of the 7th Capital Guard. He says he was treating a doe who was brought in last night -- Trelin, or Trelis, I think -- a member of the 9th Arcane. She was unconscious until recently. When she awoke, she said that a Brother-Commander Caethil of the 15th Capital Guard had spoken treason and was planning to leave the city."

Corvalix rose from his silk cushion. "What do you mean, leave the city? Where was he going?"

"I don't know, sir, but she is insistent that he is going to defect. He called for Empress Elinwynn's death, and yours, before assaulting her and presumably burning down the 9th's primary research facility. Candoran has no idea where Caethil might be right now, but he thought you would want to know as soon as possible so you can take appropriate action. That's all I know."

A disgusted sneer parsed Corvalix's lips. Caethil. That damned Whitetail officer had fought against him since his arrival, always so self-assured self-important. Of course it was him.

"I should have had him imprisoned weeks ago," he said, more to himself than the underling. "Tell Brother-Healer Candoran I am indebted to him for this information, and will act accordingly."

"Yes, sir," the soldier said.

"Before you do, I want you to find Brother-Commander Thrasin, my second in command, and tell him to gather the bucks immediately and wait for me at the western gate. I believe I know where Caethil will try to escape to, and how he might get there. That is all. Go."

The buck saluted once more and was gone, his armor clinking as he rushed back outside and disappeared around the corner. Corvalix took a final bite of his food, gathered his scrolls, and set his mind to the task of finding the traitor. Calling for the murder of himself was despicable enough, but that of his sister? Unforgivable. If Caethil truly was a cowardly deserter, he would personally see to it that every last deer who joined the wretch returned to Evinwiir with their heads upon crystalline pikes.

The stone path from the capital soon gave way to a narrow dirt road that wound through the surrounding forests. It was a mixed blessing; quieter and further away from the sometimes crowded main route, yet knee-deep with snow and decidedly slower going. Caethil knew he was taking a risk by traveling at a lesser pace, but the more soldiers he and his bucks encountered, the greater their chances were of being found out. Sticking to the side paths was the safer option for now.

The first hour of the journey couldn't have gone better. No one had accosted them, and morale was high among his charges and the senators in equal measure. Occasionally they would break into a Whitetail marching song as a show for passing civilians, which also handily served to keep their cover, and chatter with each other was encouraged where appropriate. That had all ceased once they left the main road, but for a time it very much felt like they were on a routine patrol.

Deeper still into the forest. Idle talk was silenced, replaced by the shrieking of winter winds as they whipped through skeletal branches above. Chattering teeth and rustling armor accompanied every step. The first hints of doubt began to rise like creeping shadows in the claustrophobic confines; what if they'd lost their way? Were they being followed?

Morning turned to afternoon, afternoon to dusk. They'd been marching nearly the entire day with only occasional breaks. Caethil could see the exhaustion on their faces as the hours dragged on. Just keep going, he'd tell them, the packs on his back digging into his skin and the plates of his armor chafing with every step.

"Enough," someone said. Caethil turned to see Senator Alyys slump against a tree, the old stag cursing as he leaned back and cast his eyes skyward. "Enough, Caethil. Do you intend to march us through the night? We need food, and warmth. You cannot expect us to travel on empty stomachs and tired minds!"

"I agree with Alyys," Gwindihr said, coming to a stop along with the rest of the formation. "This is as good a place as any to make camp for the night. It will be dark soon, and I do not fancy the idea of groping around like a blind fawn in the blowing snow. What say you, Praxilus?"

Praxilus considered the question for a moment. It was a risk to stop, certainly, but continuing on now would be madness.

"I suppose we are all in agreement, then," he said. "Shall we stop here, Brother-Commander?"

As tough as he liked to think he was, even Caethil had to admit he was sick of marching. A proper meal and some rest would do everyone a great deal of good.

"Very well, senators." He raised a hoof in the air and circled it. "Listen up," he ordered his soldiers. "We'll set up here and camp for the night. I want half of you to find branches and logs for lean-tos. The rest of you, fan out and see if you can find any berries to compliment our rations, then help the others clear out snow so we can set up our shelters. Gelen, Aedris, Kiradae and Tolrun?"

"Sir!" they answered as one.

"You're with me. We need to get the command tent set up for the senators. They'll be staying with me for safety. Sub-commanders, I leave you in charge of supervision. Make sure no one wanders off. If anyone looks like they're going to leave, you have my permission to stop them by any means necessary."

One of the officers let out a shrill whistle. "We're going to need constant lookouts -- two hour shifts, four bucks per. No exceptions!" He turned to Caethil. "What of a fire, sir? Shall I tell the bucks to tend to one, or are we going to forego a fire to make ourselves more difficult to spot?"

"They may build a fire, but only after the sun has set. That way the smoke is less likely to be seen from a distance."

"As you say, sir," the officer said, then left to carry out Caethil's orders.

"Too damn cold out tonight," Caethil told the senators. "It won't matter how well-hidden we are if we all freeze to death." He clapped a hoof on Praxilus' shoulder and smiled weakly. "We've made good progress today, andwyyn. Equestria should be no more than two days from here, depending on how quickly we can travel."

Gwindihr and Alyys had left to help some soldiers set up the large tent they would be staying in, and Praxilus nodded in approval.

"Let us hope so. Your soldiers are good bucks to the last, Caethil. I wish them only the best in this endeavor."

"That they are." Caethil leaned back against the rough bark of a dead tree, letting out a long breath. The clouds overhead turned pink and orange in the dying light, casting a comforting and otherworldly glow across the forest. This, he thought, was what he would miss the most. The beauty of Whitetail had no equal. He wondered if he would ever see it again.

"Do you think they're looking for us?" Praxilus asked.

"Mmm. Without a doubt. Even if Trelis didn't say anything -- and that is a very big 'if' -- the other units will have noticed our barracks empty for the day. No, there is no possibility that we've eluded the entirety of Evinwiir for so long. The question is, can we stay ahead of them long enough to get to Equestria?" A flight of winter birds darted above them, twirling around each other before flying off with short, sharp calls. In the distance, the commotion of nearly fifty soldiers going about their duties brought a din of commotion. "We'll be ready for them, Senator. Come what may, we'll be ready."

Empress Elinwynn paced restlessly on the polished marble of Chancellor Vinawyll's private quarters, the click-clack of her hooves joining the tireless scratching of quill on parchment. Comfortable though the opulent room may have been, she'd long since lost her ability to be impressed by the Whitetail leader's incessant displays of wealth; crystalline flasks of wine and gilded statuaries could only hold her interest for so long, and his offers of willing bucks and does to satisfy her desires felt like nothing more than feeble attempts to hold onto the ever-slipping illusion that he still held power to any meaningful degree.

She humored him with polite conversation and half-hearted laughter at his increasingly tiresome jokes, a necessary part of her role as "co-ruler" in a time of war.

She scoffed at the thought. Co-ruler, as if the cowardly, self-important fool made any of the decisions these days. Not only had he managed to let his own capital fall into disrepair and a state of near-anarchy, but now even his own senators and soldiers were deserting! There would have been no desertion in Cervidae, no fallen politicians to stir the pot, for it was her word alone that moved the masses.

'Republic' of Whitetail indeed.

Even now, hundreds of miles from her seat of power, not one citizen dared rise against her. She was the Cerivdaen Hegemony, no matter where she went. Soon enough, Whitetail would come to see the greater truth, and she would be embraced as a savior; perhaps, even, a living deity. Goddess-Empress Elinwynn, she mused. It was a title she could grow to enjoy.

"There are only a few matters left, Empress. My apologies for keeping you until such a late hour." Chancellor Vinawyll dipped his quill into a silver inkwell and turned to her. "I thought I might ask your advice regarding the taxation of our merchants. Our current rate of ten darics per one hundred has managed to keep us afloat and our soldiers equipped, but supplies are becoming increasingly difficult to secure from out of town. I propose raising the tariff to fifteen darics to compensate. Certainly this will make the business owners unhappy, but such is a necessity in--"

"No," Elinwynn said decisively. "There will be no increase in taxes. In fact, I suggest lowering the rate by three darics."

Vinawyll laughed in disbelief. "Lowering? With all due respect, Empress, such a move would bankrupt our war effort in a matter of weeks! Our coffers are not bottomless, much as I might wish otherwise."

"Do not worry about your funding, Chancellor. Cervidae will cover the difference for the time being; I assure you we can afford to do so. You can worry about paying us back after Equestria has been turned into new land for deerkind to spread through." A small, speckled snow apple floated from a bowl beside her, and she bit into the sweet fruit as she worked out exactly what to say. "You are dangling from the edge of a cliff, Vinawyll. Your city, and thus all of Whitetail, requires only the tiniest of shoves in either direction. Your merchants, traders and business stags are the lifeblood of Evinwiir, for the moment the last shred of normality is stripped from its citizens you will cease to hold any sway over them. Life must continue on; soldiers and civilians must work, shop keepers must hock their wares. Most importantly, we must not be seen as all-controlling. Keep your merchants in business and their prices reasonable -- with enforcement if necessary -- and the people of Evinwiir will thank you for it. There are already calls for your head on a daily basis, but they are scattered and half-hearted. Increase your taxes, raise the price of food and basic necessities, and see how long those threats remain nothing more than idle."

She could see the anger seething within him, the immense hatred he truly felt for her under his veneer of civility and practiced courtesy. To his mind, it was still his nation, his city, his decisions that changed the course of history.

"Very well, I'll propose it to the senators on the morrow," he said as cheerfully as he could manage. Elinwynn wanted to laugh in his face. "One final thing, then. Our soldiers are, in fact, deserting. Small bands here and there, though none so brashly as Brother-Commander Caethil's group. No matter how many traitors we execute, we cannot seem to stem this festering wound. I was going to ask the good Corvalix for his opinion on this, but since he is currently chasing down the scum who dared leave this great city..."

"You want to my opinion?" Elinwynn asked, though it came out as more of a statement. "Here is the thing, Chancellor: soldiers do not fight for their nation, not entirely. If love of country was all that mattered, we would not have to pay them. But just try asking someone to throw themselves at a wall of blades for a concept, and see how far you get. No, your soldiers are fighting because it allows them to make a living for themselves and their families. Obviously, we have reached the point where that pay is no longer sufficient to guarantee their loyalty. Thus, I propose that Whitetail triples the amount of darics each soldier receives every month until the war is over."

Vinawyll nearly choked. "Triple? You can't be serious, Elinwynn. Lowering the tax on imports is one thing, but this..."

"As I said the first time, Cervidae will cover the cost. You need fresh blood in this army, and to do so you need to incentivize service. Unless, of course, you plan on fighting alongside your redtail cousins with tired, unmotivated troops."

The chancellor massaged his temples as the quill bobbed before him. "The senators are not going to like this, but I will do so all the same." He gave a long look over the document, its bout of proposals stretching out over four pages and covering every topic from food storage to spell research. Satisfied, he turned to Elinwynn and shrugged. "I suppose that takes care of everything, then. Unless you have any other issues to bring up?"

"Just one," Elinwynn said. "I want you to prepare another scroll, but not to our beloved senators."

Vinawyll cocked his head. "To whom, then?"

Elinwynn smiled. "Princess Celestia."