"Stand your ground, brothers! We will not falter!"

The sound of impending battle filled the forest, swords clanging against shields in a shrill choir of crystalline weapons. Corvalix and his followers had found them, a regrettable but seemingly inevitable outcome, and now they were advancing with purpose. The former soldiers of Whitetail shifted formation to a staggered wall, focusing their attention to the south.

Behind them, Caethil remained adamant in his leadership, though he shook on the inside like a newborn fawn. If Elinwynn's despicable brother was the one who had been sent after himself and his bucks, then he was sure to have the Exemplars with him.

This is where it ends, then.

Some of his soldiers were visibly rattled, their weapons held in unsteady clouds of arcing magic. Someone was praying in old Ochrourian.

"Do not let yourselves be overcome with fear! Stick together, follow my commands, and we will see each other through this day!" An ever-closer call and response sounded from the unseen forces. "You are soldiers of the true Whitetail, and my friends to the last. One day we will look back upon this moment and remember it as the start of our great nation's rebirth." He turned to the senators, surprised to see Alyys floating a quinn-blade.

"That's Corvalix, isn't it?" the old stag asked. "That son of a comfort whore isn't going to let us go just because we're senators, you know. We're traitors along with the rest of you. At best, we would be captured, taken back to Evinwiir for a show trial, and beheaded in a public display. I don't know about you younger bucks, but I would rather die a free whitetail than suffer the humiliation of surrender."

"Be that as it may, we are no soldiers," Praxilus said.

"Oh, it's not that difficult to understand." His weapon floated out in a quick jab. "The sharp end goes in the enemy!" Alyys laughed, getting a few of the others to join him. No doubt they were thankful to have him there, if only for moral support. "Don't go worrying yourselves sick, lads. I've seen how you fight. You've nothing to fear from these pompous redtail."

Caethil gave a silent look of thanks, then stood before the formation. Forty-six of the finest bucks he'd ever fought with stared back at him, and though many were scared, none abandoned their positions. They knew the stakes: win, or die. There would be no mercy for traitors.

A heartbeat later, the first glint of emerald armor appeared through the trees. The Cervidaen soldiers stood tall and proud, marching in lock-step unison with spears held high or thrusting out from the front of the shield wall. They shouted a menacing battle song as they approached, banners of Cervidae and Whitetail flapping in the gusting winds that kissed Caethil's face like the chill breath of death itself.

"Hold steady," he ordered. "Calm yourselves." He counted each soldier, thirty in all, as they came into view. Behind the formation, Brother-General Corvalix flew his own banners from a gilded weapon: twin flags of black. No quarter would be given this day.

The redtail came to a stop not even an arrow's flight from his position. A ghostly silence filled the air, the blowing winds and distant sounds of forest creatures mixing with the whipping of flags and quiet rustling of weapons and armor.

"Brother-Commander Caethil. I always knew you were a coward," Corvalix said. They closed the distance with one another until they were mere yards apart.

"You would accuse me of cowardice whilst standing behind others, Corvalix? How typical." Caethil wanted to lunge across the gap and bury his blade up to the hilt in the bastard's neck. He prayed he would get the chance.

Caethil hated him with a passion he could scarcely begin to describe, considering the smug officer to be the embodiment of everything wrong with redtail culture; royalty born into privilege, given his place of command not because of his feats, but because of his name. It was Whitetail's worst-kept secret that Corvalix had killed his own commanding officer in the battle of Whitetail Wood, covering it up to make it look like an Equestrian projectile had done the deed for him, but Caethil knew better. Many did, but none had the power to question him, lest they find the wrath of Elinwynn brought down upon them.

A liar, a murderer, a stag who had never known what it was like to work his way up from the bottom. No doubt he thought of his own bucks as disposable play-things he could toss away at a whim. He may have worn the armor of a general, but he was no soldier.

The front rows parted as Corvalix stepped forward, fully clad in shining armor the color of the forest canopy, etched with details of gold leaf. Silver feathers of the great aer'thaxiilis hawk formed a circle around the back of his helm, splayed out like a bird of prey moving in for a kill. He towered over Caethil by at least a head's height, to say nothing of the broad rack of his antlers.

"I have grown quite tired of chasing you down, Caethil," he spoke, his voice deep and authoritative. "Have you any idea the trouble you've caused me? I should be in Evinwiir delegating with my sister, yet here I am, in the middle of the forest in a most unpleasant snowfall."

Caethil took a step forward. "Then I suggest you leave now, while you still have the ability to do so."

An amused grin turned up Corvalix's mouth. "Strong words for one so weak. I know you think me a monster, and my sister a tyrant, but nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, we can be quite merciful." He looked past Caethil to the Whitetail bucks who stood at the ready. "My friends, allow me to extend you an offer: surrender now, and I will personally see to it that your sentence is reduced to a mere few years in internment. It is clear that you are all quite well trained, and it would be a great shame to waste such resources. Join me, and your lives will be spared."

"Don't listen to him," Caethil shouted over his shoulder. "He is a pawn for the empress and a murderous cur! You will be executed the moment you are within their control, that I can promise you."

"And what of yourselves, good senators?" Corvalix asked, motioning to the back of the formation. "Such tenacity and resolve would be better suited to changing the course of Whitetail's history, wouldn't you agree? Stop this treasonous madness. No one has to know you were ever here. I'm sure a cover story would not be difficult to concoct."

Senator Gwindihr stamped a hoof. "Go with you, and serve as a puppet to Elinwynn's imperialism? Never!"

"Senator, if you would simply--"

"You would call the joining of our peoples a reunification, but you are fooling no one. This is a takeover as sure as if you'd lain siege to Evinwiir yourselves! I cannot wait for the day when Celestia drives a sword through your black heart." Gwindihr came forward, a fire burning in his voice. "Go fuck your disgusting whore of a sister again, you murderous degenerate!"

An errant twitch broke Corvalix's facade for the briefest of moments, and he locked his eyes on Caethil as his antlers flared with green magic. There was a crackle of energy, a pause, then a wet thump. Gwindihr dropped to the ground, clutching at a heavy dart lodged half-way into his throat that spurted bright, arterial blood with every dying beat of his heart. He gagged and strained as it filled his lungs, retching painfully onto the frozen soil. His body thrashed for what felt like a horribly long time, the other senators looking on in horror as the life drained from him in with a sickening gurgle. A final spasm, and he lay still.

A heavy silence fell, yet the shock of Gwindihr's death was soon replaced by unbridled anger the likes of which Caethil had never felt. With a raw shout he brought his shield up as hard as he could, ramming it into the bottom of Corvalix's helm. Corvalix reeled back from the blow, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the assault as a quinn-blade struck at the armored plates over his neck. Finding no gap to exploit, Caethil's assault turned to the joints in the armor, alternating stabs and shield bashes in a flurry of attacks. To the last they were deflected, failing to find purchase on the smooth crystal. Corvalix brought his own weapon out as Caethil activated his knee-blades, now adding rapid kicks to his continuing onslaught. A stab to the upper foreleg finally found its mark, the armor-mounted dagger stabbing through a thin gap and tearing a hole in Corvalix's flesh.

Corvalix yelled in sudden pain and tackled Caethil to the ground, the two stags rolling in the snow and ice as they lashed out at each other. Neither formation moved, uneasily staring each other down and watching their leaders fight a desperate, brutal melee. Caethil brought his shield down hard, and there was a loud crack as a pair of prongs snapped off of Corvalix's antlers, left dangling on short, gold chains. A burst of powerful magic lifted Caethil up and away, sending him heavily into a tree that crackled with frozen, shattered bark.

"Kill them!" Corvalix shouted to his bucks between heavy breaths, a trickle of blood seeping from a gash above his mouth. "No mercy for traitors!"

The Exemplars charged forward with a collective battle cry. The 15th stood their ground, shields up and weapons ready. The officer in command shouted for a ranged volley, his attention split between the battle and Caethil's slow recovery. Scattered arrows slashed across the distance, and throwing spears arced overhead with shrill whistles. Only a few had any effect, a small number of redtail tumbling to the ground. The others leapt over the fallen and returned a hail of projectiles.

Corvalix closed the distance between himself and Caethil as well as he could with an injured leg. Caethil pushed himself up to his hooves, sidestepping a pair of kicks that cut the air where his neck had been only a heartbeat earlier. He ducked under a stab and recovered his own blade, using it to deflect Corvalix's attacks and attempting to regain the initiative. Neither of them showed any sign of relenting as they exchanged blow after blow, looking for any opening, any lapse in judgment to exploit.

Caethil dodged, grabbed onto Corvalix's weapon with all of the focus he could manage, and spun to deliver a crushing kick of his hind legs. The ornate chest plate cracked resoundingly and sent a spray of crumbled crystal fragments outward as Corvalix was lifted by the force of the impact, reeling up on his hooves to his full height. A sharp pain shot through his side, Caethil's blade finding a weak point in his armor, and he slammed his hooves back down hard enough to shatter the patch of ice beneath him.

Every movement he made was soon accompanied by the grinding of jagged, broken crystal. Caethil attacked the weakened chest armor at every available opportunity, chipping away at it bit by bit.

Enough of this, Corvalix thought. He had no time for the traitor's games. With a leap backwards he sheathed his weapon, lowered his head, and focused every last bit of his magic on Caethil's body.

With a resounding crash the opposing formations slammed into one another. They pushed and jostled for the smallest inch of gain, reaching out with sword and spear at any exposed flesh. A handful fell on either side as the whitetail parted their shields and thrust into the Cervidaens with all of their might. Off to one side, a contingent of Corvalix's soldiers broke off and bounded behind the shield wall with thunder cracks of powerful magic. Three more whitetail were cut down in an instant with splashes of blood and agonized cries.

"Right flank!" Brother-Sergeant Kwiinalak commanded, sending out an arrow that pierced a redtail's eye and dropped him in an instant. A stab from a nearby buck made sure he was down. "Keep it together!" He nocked his next shot, the precious few arrows he had in his quiver rattling around as he stepped up on a rock to gain a height advantage. It was an even fight, but the redtail were employing precision magic with fantastic aptitude. "First squad, come around right!"

Ten of the whitetail pushed outward with a shout of acknowledgement. Two Exemplars were cut down before they could react, but the others were quick to respond. They fell back in an orderly line, joining a smaller group of redtail who had moved behind a fallen log and were slinging arrows and darts at the advancing whitetail. A sharp cry came from Kwiinalak's squad, and a buck tumbled to the snow, clutching at his chest where the haft of an arrow was sticking out. Another soon joined it, lodged in his shoulder, followed by a third into the thin armor around his neck.

The gap in the wall was immediately filled in, but every step they took was answered by missiles and swords. It was an uphill fight against opponents who were far more skillful, and the small advantage in numbers the whitetail had enjoyed soon faded. As his last arrow was sent at the redtail, missing entirely and burying itself in a tree with a resounding 'thwack', Kwiinalak turned to Brother-Captain Vardinfel, Caethil's second in command. The officer had his shield out and locked in place, a small contingent of personal guards and both surviving senators near him. Kwiinalak saw that Senator Alyys' blade was slick with blood, the body of a redtail lying mere yards away with a neck wound so deep he could see the unfortunate buck's spine.

"Sir, first squad is at half strength!"

"Second and third squads at three-quarters! Brother-Sergeant Xal'iyas is gone!" someone else said over the sounds of battle.

Brother-Captain Vardinfel sent a volley of armor-piercing darts into the forest, then raised his weapon above his head.

"Fall back! Defensive crescent on me!"

Kwiinalak saw him open his mouth with a look of panic, hearing his name called by the officer he'd served with for more than a decade. He never saw the throwing spear that punctured his skull. There was only a single jolt of sudden pain as the sharpened crystal tip tore through his brain, traveled through the lining of his helm, and continued on with enough force to rend his head from his body.

Caethil felt the electric pinpricks of powerful arcane forces wash over his body, a bright glow emanating from Corvalix's broken antlers that seemed to have no effect on his abilities. He lunged forward with his quinn-blade, only to jerk to a stop mere inches from his target. He flailed his limbs in the air as he was lifted off the ground, the pinpricks becoming stabbing lightning bolts that felt like a hundred daggers being twisted inside his flesh.

"I grow weary of your insolence, Caethil," Corvalix said as Caethil yelled in pain. "Had we more time I might make you end your own life, as I did that weak Equestrian so long ago, but I've a band of traitors to see to." He grabbed his weapon in his mouth, unable to spare any magic for it, and stepped forward so that he was nearly face to face. "Goodbye, Brother-Commander."

A twist of his head, and the blade dug into the plate protecting Caethil's throat, gouging a deep hole in the armor. Caethil struggled with all of his might, desperately trying to fight back. He saw his bucks being torn apart in the distance, their formation bravely fighting on despite their losses, but it was a losing battle.

Another strike shattered the broken crystal in two, exposing the dark brown fur underneath. In a panic he let loose with a shockwave of rippling force, sending Corvalix stumbling back and blowing clouds of snow into the air in every direction. For a moment he was able to touch the ground again, and he used it to sprint at Corvalix as fast as his hooves would carry him. He was able to lash out with his knee blades once, twice, before he was caught again. The damned redtail was immensely powerful, despite his injuries, and he wasted no time with words as he grabbed for his weapon to put an end to Caethil's life.

Corvalix gave a shout and gritted his teeth as something tore into his side, all of his magical focus dissipating in an instant. He swung around to find two bucks attempting to drive their swords through him, a broken-off knee blade lodged in his ribs. He deflected the blade of one, sidestepped the other. A quick, precise thrust sent his weapon through the first whitetail's mouth, shattering teeth and bone before protruding through the back of his neck. The buck dropped, screaming as he bled out from a ragged hole where his jaw had been.

The second looked as if he was going to run, then took a half-hearted swing instead. Corvalix ripped the weapon from the buck's magical hold, turning it on him in an instant and stabbing it into his gut half a dozen times before unzipping his torso with a long pull of the blade. A final stomp put an end to the twitching body of his first victim.

Wheeling around, covered in viscera and blood, Corvalix prepared to finish Caethil -- only to find that he had disappeared. He darted behind the tree, looked around in every direction for any sign of the deer. He was gone. Somehow, he had simply vanished from sight.

"Caethil! Come out and accept your fate, you cowardly whoreson!"

Only the sound of waning battle answered him. He slammed his sword into the ground.

Senator Praxilus dropped to his knees as he and Caethil reappeared behind the line with a flicker of pseudo-motion. His head swam and his vision spun, but he had saved the Brother-Commander from a terrible end. Caethil shook his head as the lingering after-effects of teleportation faded, his sight and hearing quickly returning.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said as he pushed himself up. He had long since resigned himself to the inevitability of his death, and anger welled up inside him at the wasted opportunity to take the bastard general down with him. "It is my duty, and mine alone, to defeat Corvalix! And if I die, then so be it!" Less than fifty yards away, the surviving remnants of the whitetail forces were desperately holding their ground. He had never fully expected to defeat the redtail, but the speed with which his soldiers were falling was sickening to behold. No more than a dozen remained, and those who had been wounded were struck down without mercy.

Praxilus shook his head. "No, Caethil. Whitetail is more important than any one stag. We will need you after--"

"I could have finished him! Those bucks gave their lives so that I might destroy him!"

"Those bucks gave their lives so that you might live!" Praxilus yelled back. "They went to their deaths knowingly, because they believe in something greater! They believe in you!" A pair of spears plunged into the ground near them, a third sticking into a nearby evergreen. The Exemplars were close enough to assault them directly. A barrier of magic went up in front of them, a wounded sub-commander struggling to keep the projectiles at bay.

"I believe we're going to be gutted in short order if we don't do something!" Alyys shouted, pulling a spear from behind him and hurling it back at the redtail. Caethil's instincts as a soldier protested the very thought of retreating, of admitting defeat to a hated enemy, but he knew the senators we right. Pride was only going to destroy him -- and with him, potentially, all of Whitetail.

"All forces, full retreat!" he ordered with a twisting of his stomach. Retreat. Retreat to where? They were outnumbered two to one, against a foe who seemed to never tire. Praxilus and Alyys fell back to his side, but most of the surviving soldiers were incapable of turning away. Those that did attempt to run were cut down almost immediately as they revealed their vulnerable flanks to the enemy. There had to be a way to get his bucks out! "I said retreat, damnit!"

Praxilus stepped before him. "I can lead us to safety, but there is a limit to how many I can take with me. If we're going to go, we must do so now."

Caethil shoved his hoof away, his voice trembling. "Absolutely not! There is still a chance we can win this! If only we can...perhaps find some sort of...of..."

"Sir, it's time for you to go," Vardinfel said, clutching a wound that seeped crimson over his pauldrons. A lump caught in Caethil's throat, and he shook his head as he grabbed for the blade of a fallen whitetail.

"You do not get to give me orders, Brother-Captain! Come with me, perhaps we can draw them away, or--"

"Caethil. It is done. Take the senators and leave while you can, before Corvalix comes back. I don't know how much longer we can keep the Exemplars from breaking through."

Never in his life had he wanted to stay and fight more than he did at that very moment. An officer was never supposed to abandon his soldiers. Every clash of crystal and scream of the dying was like a knife being driven further into his heart, a siren's call that beckoned him to his fate in the snow and soil of the land he held so dear.

"...very well, Brother-Captain," he said weakly. "I leave you in command of the 15th Capital Guard." He stood tall and saluted, regaining his officer's bravado one last time. "Ka'al naiaam Wyyttalia. May you live forever, my friend."

Alyys and Praxilus each placed a hoof on his shoulder as crackling, shimmering magic poured over them like a heavy fog. Caethil gave a final look to his bucks, watching Vardinfel heft his weapon and rush into the fray. His sight flickered, distorted into a blur, and then they were gone.

It seemed like only an instant before the world snapped into view once more. Caethil retched the contents of his stomach, the stress of two trips through the aether too much for him to handle in such a short time. Praxilus and Alyys had fared far better, though for the moment they remained silent out of respect for his lost bucks.

Once he'd regained his composure and sated his thirst, he climbed up to the top of a rock formation to get a bearing on his surroundings. It kept him mercifully occupied. There was no sound of battle, and he wondered if it was because they'd moved too far to hear it -- or if it meant that everyone had fallen. He prayed it was not the latter as he scanned the forest. An endless sprawl of green and white lay before him, with the distant peaks of the Midlands far off to the north and the babbling of a stream or small river somewhere to his west. He couldn't be entirely sure where they were, but it had to be close to the border. Satisfied, he leapt back down.

"We are on the right path. Depending on where we are in relation to the Legion camp, we should be no more than a day's walk from our destination. We will need to find the river and follow it south until it branches again. Let us not waste any time."

He immediately set off, leaving the others to catch up after a brief exchange. Alyys lagged behind, complaining about his age and clutching his side with a hoof.

"Are you alright, Caethil?" Praxilus asked as they approached and fell in.

"Yes. Your teleportation spell was well-executed, though I am not used its effects. Not many deer have such prowess; I thank you for your quick thinking."

"That's not what I meant," the senator said with a concerned look. Caethil had to fight back his tears.

"I just left forty-six of the best whitetail I have ever had the pleasure of knowing to die in the middle of nowhere, cut down without mercy by the sycophantic brother of a tyrant who branded them as traitors. So no, Praxilus, I am not alright. Please, leave me to my thoughts for now. Their deaths weigh heavily on my mind."

Hours passed as they carried on, no more than a few scattered words being spoken. The grey, oppressive snow clouds gradually parted, letting warm rays of sunlight dapple the forest. Increasingly they had to stop and wait for Alyys to catch up, his breaths becoming ragged and heavy. The veteran stag assured them that it was of no concern, but Caethil was not about to leave yet another whitetail to suffer. He called for them to rest near a cliff overlooking the hills below, pulling a thick blanket and a cooking set from the bags slung over his back. A small pack of medical supplies floated to his side, and he set to bandaging his mostly superficial wounds. Praxilus set to work mixing a soup of vegetables and scavenged hardy winter plants over a meager fire, giving occasional thoughts to Alyys who had fallen asleep almost instantly against his knapsack.

He scooped out two bowls worth and set them down on the blanket, nudging one over to Caethil, who had not moved from his spot.

"Best to eat before it gets cold," Praxilus said carefully. Caethil gave a sidelong glance at the food.

"I am not hungry. I am sure Alyys could use it more than myself."

"Probably, but he is quite exhausted. Best to let him rest." Praxilus lifted the bowl with his magic and sipped the steaming mixture. The taste was slightly bitter, but its warmth was very welcome. "Eat, Caethil. We need you to be in good health if you are to lead us to Equestria."

Caethil ran a hoof over his battered armor, rough with cuts and gouges from Corvalix's weapons. The shattered remains of his neck armor clung meagerly to the connecting plates, brittle and jagged like rough glass, and he could feel a painful bruise forming where it had been attacked repeatedly. The sight of the bucks attempting to save him replayed before him in horrible detail, the bright red arterial sprays and desperate cries of unknowable agony like streamers of ice crackling through his mind. They had been transfers from another company. He couldn't even remember their names, yet they had thrown themselves at Corvalix without hesitation. He didn't deserve the loyalty of such good whitetail.

"Please, Caethil, you must eat something. I know you must be going through a terrible time, but we still have an obligation to Whitetail to make sure none of this is has been in vain."

He knew Praxilus was trying to be helpful and encouraging, but part of him wanted to hit the senator across the face for speaking so casually.

"What's so damned special about me, anyway?" he asked bitterly. "Is my word really worth the lives of nearly fifty good whitetail? I'm just a soldier, yet you and the others have propped me up like a king, as if I'm some sort of holy savior who will bring everlasting peace." He laughed, short and humorless. "If I had known I'd lose everyone, I wouldn't have taken them with me at all. Better to leave on my own than lead them to such senseless slaughter. Yet I did rally them, because I hoped that I could show them a better life.

"And now look at me. A commander with no soldiers; a sad, old stag who let an embittered lover rat him out to his worst enemy. None of this would have happened if I'd just ended her life then and there..."

"You can't know that," Praxilus said. "They would have realized you were gone sooner or later."

"Then they would have hunted me alone, and those bucks would yet live! I could have told them to return to their post, to put faith in Whitetail and not in me! They died so that one foolish officer could escape. I should throw myself from the cliff and be done with it."

"Do not speak like that. You have a part to play in the coming storm. We all do. That zebra you told me about, the one with the strange name -- he clearly sees something in you, Caethil. You are a senior officer who has seen what the redtail are capable of, their lies and their brutality. You know them better than most, and you have a way with words that few can match.

"Don't you see? You are the only one who can pull us out of the fire. We need you to survive. Just imagine the sight of a united front standing against Elinwynn! Zevran and Equestria side-by-side with free Whitetail supporters! It would be a glorious thing to behold." Praxilus pushed the bowl back to Caethil's side. "I am not telling you to forget about those who died today. We can and will mourn them in due time; I certainly mourn the loss of Gwindihr. He was a good stag with a wonderful family in the north of Whitetail, and it sickens me that they will hear about his death from some redtail lackey sent by Corvalix. So long as I draw breath, I will carry his memory with me.

"Now please, take your food. It may be the last taste of Whitetail you get for some time."

Finally, and begrudgingly, Caethil gave in to Praxilus' insistence. Though he welcomed the hot meal, it tasted bland in his mouth, as if his own body would not allow him the luxury of enjoying it. Neither of them spoke while they ate together. Caethil was soon lost within the memories of his fallen friends and comrades. Years of training, fighting, carousing with the good bucks of the 12th, and later, the 15th Capital Guard.

There had been Brother-Initiate Alany'iis and his twin brother, Candrillis, two young soldiers who were nearly identical in appearance but polar opposites in personality. From time to time they would switch places, surprising the others when Alany'iis was suddenly loud and boastful, or when Candrillis was resigned and timid. They'd both been archers, and damn fine ones at that.

Caethil had seen their bodies lying side by side in the snow before he was whisked away by Praxilus' spell, together till the very last.

His second in command, Vardinfel, was one of the old guard, a tough-as-nails stag from the harsh climes of western Whitetail near the border with Cervidae. They had served together for over a decade, and though they did not count each other as close friends, their respect ran deep. During their time fighting against the ponies at the onset of the war, Vardinfel had more than proven his worth as an officer and a soldier, frequently putting himself in harm's way to drive back the numerically superior Equestrian forces.

How strange, then, that Caethil now found himself seeking out their aid. No one could have known the extent of Elinwynn's manipulation and lies, or the depths of Vinawyll's corruption that led to such a prolonged, pointless war. Worse yet, so many in Whitetail blatantly refused to listen to reason, even when Praxilus outed the empress to his fellow senators. Only a few had taken his words to heart, the rest of them content to let the 'saviors' from Cervidae push the war into open conflict once more.

He would have gladly traded every last senator for even one good soldier and, though he knew it to be all but impossible, he prayed to the ancestors that some of his bucks had been spared. It would be months, possibly years before he found out. Until then, he would do what he had to -- to survive, to bring an end to the slaughter, and, perhaps one day, to see his blade buried up to the hilt in Corvalix's neck.

A deep, harsh cough woke Alyys from his sleep. He pushed himself up against the trunk of a pine tree, his antlers rustling the lower branches and showering him with a light dusting of snow. He grumbled and brushed it from his shoulders, looking through half-open eyes at Praxilus and Caethil.

"So you're going to starve an old stag, are you?" he said with a small smirk. His voice was weak as he talked, strained and raspy. "And here I thought I only had to worry about such things from my grandchildren." Praxilus stood up to approach with a bowl, but Alyys waved him off. "Save your food, Praxilus. You young bucks need it more than I do."

Caethil and Praxilus looked at each other. "Are you alright?" the latter asked, still floating a portion of soup beside him.

"Not far from Equestria now, are we?" Alyys asked, looking out over the hills below. "I'll bet we can see it from here. You know, I always wanted to go back and visit Canterlot again. I was there once, many years ago, with my parents. Such a beautiful city. And that Celestia!" he chuckled, his laughter turning into a string of coughs. "I've never been into ponies, but I'll tell you this: I would have gladly made an exception for her. Her sister, too -- Luna, I think. Shame about what happened to her."

Praxilus set the bowl down and approached. "Senator Alyys, if you require some sort of aid, it would be best to tell us now. You sound rather sickly."

"Do I? Damn. I was hoping it wouldn't be noticeable." He lifted the side of his winter tunic, revealing a large bruise that had turned the surrounding skin into a grotesque patchwork of dark purples and reds, visible through his short coat. Praxilus gasped at the sight of it. "Probably a result of this, I'd wager."

"Why did you not tell us you were wounded?" Caethil demanded, rushing to his side with the bag of medical supplies. "What happened to you?"

"Some cock-sure young redtail thought I'd be an easy target, right before I nearly severed his head from his body. Before he went down, though, he managed to land a rather impressive kick right into my ribs. I thought it was superficial, but now..." He ran a hoof over his side and winced. "With that much bruising there's bound to be internal bleeding. Probably punctured something important. Nothing we can do to stop it." He turned, looked to Praxilus. "I wasn't slowing down because I'm old, you bastard," he laughed.

Caethil's mouth hung open as he considered his options. There weren't many he could come up with.

"I have medical training, somewhat. Perhaps there is a potion we can brew up, or an herb mixture. If we can find some way to bind the wound until we reach the Equestrians..."

Alyys shook his head. "Unless you're a healer, I doubt it's going to do much. Save your energy, Brother-Commander." Praxilus called for Caethil, and they quietly discussed his condition just out of hearing range. Alyys rested his head to the side, listening to the gently blowing winds as they rustled the trees. The sun was starting to come out in earnest now, casting a wonderful, warm glow across the forest canopy as evening approached. It brought to mind the memories of his younger days, when he would lope through the snow drifts and dart between the trees with his brother and older sister, so carefree and innocent, before coming home to a hot meal and tales of adventure from his father. They'd had a cottage overlooking the hills then, far removed from the walled-off cities of Evinwiir and Eldwix. Being young and full of fire, he'd longed for the day when he could set off on his own and join the 'real world' where the important deer changed the very course of history. He went on to fight against bandits as a soldier, begged and groveled his way through a string of pointless, dead-end jobs, and had finally made a name for himself in the halls of politics. He'd been someone of worth.

Now, in what he knew would be his final hours, he realized how much he'd missed the vast expanses of...nothing. No buildings, no politicians, no wars. Just the wind on his face, the soil beneath his hooves, and the unspoiled serenity of the land he called home.

"Praxilus, Caethil," he called out. "Come here. I have a request."

"Of course, anything," Praxilus replied as he returned to Alyys' side.

"Leave me here. Continue on to Equestria and prove that those young whitetail died for a cause worth fighting for."

"Absolutely not. Don't talk such nonsense. We can rig up a carry litter, I'm sure myself and Caethil can figure out--"

"I'm just going to slow you down. You know it as well as I do. No doubt Corvalix is still looking for us, and we are all very much aware of his capabilities." Alyys weakly lifted a hoof and pointed to the cliff overhang. "If you're fortunate, you can find the Legion camp by nightfall. Even you should be able to find your way, Praxilus; more than I can say for your time in the senate!"

"This isn't the time for jokes, Alyys," Praxilus said, prodding him. "Get up. We'll carry you out of here."

Alyys looked almost exasperated as he turned to Caethil. "Would you talk some sense into the boy? He does not seem interested in listening to his elders."

Caethil nodded. "It is his choice, Praxilus. Look at his wound -- it is clearly growing. Let him have the dignity of choosing where he wishes to pass into the Beyond."

"This isn't right! There must be something we can do!" Praxilus objected as Alyys laughed quietly.

"Stubborn as always. Look out there, son: that's Whitetail, and it's beautiful. I am blessed to have lived a good life in such an incredible place. With you and Caethil leading the charge, it'll belong to us once more." Alyys pointed to the bottle still wedged into Caethil's side bag. "You can keep the soup, but I would enjoy a taste of that wine..." Caethil had forgotten he had it, and was surprised to see it was still intact. It levitated before them, a tall, narrow bottle of studded crystal topped with a gold-rimmed cork. "Good lad. Come, share one last drink with me." The old stag lacked the strength to call upon his magic, instead grasping it between his cloven hooves and sniffing approvingly. A glug of sweet, slightly bitter juice filled his mouth and washed down his throat, each flavor springing to life one after another as he savored the aftertaste. "You have fine taste in drinks, Praxilus. If they don't have wine in the Beyond I'm going to kick someone's ass until they send me back, I can tell you that!" He took one more drink, then passed the bottle to the others. "You should leave now. It will be dark soon." He saw Praxilus begin to object, but stop before he could say anything. Perhaps he'd come to accept it.

A ripple of pain coursed through him, causing his muscles to tighten as he winced through it. The ancestors were calling to him. They would not be waiting long. "One last thing, my friend. That buck I spoke with, Falavius, from Narrowhelm...I promised him I would find out what happened to his adoptive mother. Merelith, I think was her name. An Equestrian. If it is at all feasible, I ask that you locate her. Let her know that her son died bravely, fighting for Whitetail. And she must know that he never gave up hope. Will you do that for me?"

"I give you my word on the honor of my family name." He bowed deeply. "If she lives, I will find her."

Alyys smiled through the pain that was now turning into a dull, numbing sensation that started at his legs. "Good boy." He waved them off and pulled his tunic against him for warmth, a long breath fogging the air. "Right, you've wasted enough time with me. Get moving, or I'll have to boot you off this cliff myself." A hoof went to his chest in salute as he looked to Caethil. "Ka'al sayiin, vyyn nominet qyi falshaduur. Fare well, Brother-Commander. And Praxilus...should you ever see those corrupt senators again, tell them I chose to die a free whitetail."

With a final good-bye Praxilus and Caethil continued on, their hoof steps swishing through the powdery snow. They did not turn back again, marching off to Equestria at Alyys' urging, and soon it was quiet once more. The sun dipped into the saddle of the distant mountains, coloring the sky with oranges and reds as he watched it slowly set.

He closed his eyes, letting the numbing warmth come over him, and he was home again.