"Alright, Krosus, what have you got?" Imperator Stonewall stood atop the balcony overlooking the sparring pits, watching his stallions fight each other in mock combat. Behind him, Tercio flipped through a trio of scrolls he had hastily assembled: rosters for the coming day, issues to be brought up, and requests that had been passed along to him. His new-found position as the interim sub-commander of the 105th Praetorian Guard had proven to be far greater of a challenge than he'd imagined, and though Stonewall and Celestia had expressed their confidence in him -- Stonewall predictably less so -- he'd still found it difficult to adjust.

"Uh, I suppose I'll start with the grievances. First and foremost, Decanus Rimeberry has expressed repeated and colorful concern over the state of our secondary unit barracks. It appears they were never fully repaired after the attack on Canterlot, and they are letting in the cold on particularly blustery nights."

"Not a major concern," Stonewall said. "They're hardly ever used unless we're sharing a training schedule with the Royal Guard. The architecti are aware of the issue, but they have other things to deal with first. Tell Rimeberry to suck it up."

"Right, simple enough." Tercio wrote 'eventually' in the margins, then moved on. "Princess Celestia has a meeting with an emissary from Saddle Arabia just before her afternoon meal. Anjiin dal Karash, I believe his name is. He's supposed to have three personal guards and a servant mare with him. Should I assign an escort?"

"Who's available?"

"Well, Rimeberry and Frost Wind have throne duty until mid-day. Cloud Top and Thunderburst are similarly preoccupied with aerial patrols through the valley. Most of the remainder are busy below. That leaves, uh...Anarius, Balustrade, Cherry Farrow and Canalis as unassigned for the time being, and I believe Canalis is away in the city proper for most of the day."

"Scraping the bottom of the barrel," Stonewall grumbled. "Alright, I suppose Balustrade will do. Find him before Anjiin what's-his-name gets here, and make sure he doesn't screw it up. I'd see if anyone from the 83rd is available, but they're all away on winter combat training."

"Slim protection around the palace grounds today." Tercio briefly skimmed over his lists, mentally checking off the problems that he wouldn't need to involve Stonewall in. As far as he was concerned, taking matters into his own hands was preferable; both for his own standing as a potential Imperator candidate, and because it would mean less moaning from the old stallion. If Stonewall wasn't happy, no one was happy.

"Less than I'd like, to be sure. The Royal Guard has our backs, but you know how they are. They don't lift their pricks from the ground for anything less than a full-on invasion. I'll see if I can find their Legatus. Maybe I can convince him to part with a few of his more experienced soldiers for the day. I don't like leaving any gaps in our defenses."

"Nor do I, sir. Would you like me to speak with the princess and see if she can find some reserves?"

Stonewall shook his head. "Don't bother. She's got enough to deal with as is, as I'm sure you're more than adequately aware." The emphasis he placed on the last words made Tercio shift uncomfortably. He knew Stonewall was privy to his continuing relationship with Celestia, but he didn't have to like it. "What else have you got?"

"Minor issues, sir. I can see to them myself."

"Good. That's the kind of take-charge attitude I like to see. Make sure you stay on top of things, else I'll be forced to end your trial period early and drag some other poor bastard into your stead. I hear Polaris is eyeing that Imperator-in-Training position..."

"With all due respect, Polaris is going to have to lop my arms off before I'd consider such a thing."

Stonewall laughed. "Don't tempt him, Krosus, or he might just do it."

"Noted, sir."

Tercio went down his scrolls one more time, just to be sure. Stonewall was an exacting stallion with little patience for mistakes, and the possibility of securing an Imperator position -- even if it was likely to be years before he saw the fruits of that particular labor -- was too good to lose to an inattentive moment. He read them off to himself, marking each with a quill.

"Apothecary needs a resupply of topical herbs...three sparring swords need to be reforged...Shorn Stone is requesting to work evening shifts...two complaints about the quality of field rations, nothing new there...no pressing matters, it seems." There was a chorus of cheers from below as someone was tossed to the dirt in a cloud of dust. Knowing the other Praetorians, more than one bet had just been won or lost.

"Let me ask you something, Krosus, and promise me you'll be honest," Stonewall said, removing his crested helm to let the cold morning air blow through his short-cut mane.

"Gods witnessing," Tercio answered.

"Good. Here's the thing: we've been at war with the whitetail for some time now, and every day we lose a few more good stallions despite having the enemy contained to the depleted ranks of his crumbling capital. Now we're receiving word that the Cervidaens are poised to strike deep into Whitetail territory, effectively taking advantage of our unwillingness to bring this conflict to a decisive end and simultaneously bringing Whitetail under their lash. Given what you know about the redtail, if you were in charge of our forces, what would you do?"

"That's quite the question," he said. He thought about it for a time, trying to approach the conflict from the position of a general or someone equally important. No matter how he thought of it, he always came back to the same answer. "Given the actions of the whitetail, I would likely have invaded Evinwiir and put a definitive cap on the campaign. Although, I cannot begin to claim to know what the princess knows, I'm sure."

"There's no need to be diplomatic with me. I'd tend to agree; whatever harm we might have done to Evinwiir, and by extension Whitetail itself, pales in comparison to what the Cervidaens will do once Empress Elinwynn gains control. If you ask me, I'd say not striking at the heart of Whitetail at the first opportunity was the greatest mistake of this damned war. We should have bashed down the walls and charged into the city. It would have been violent, but it would have been decisive." Stonewall looked up at Tercio with a serious edge. "I've been doing this for a long time. I have nothing but the greatest of respect for Celestia, and I sympathize with what she's gone through since Luna's banishment, but if you are serious about a lifetime of military service then remember this: she is not infallible. Her kindness and generosity is her greatest strength and her greatest weakness, and I can tell you that I am not alone in my disapproval of how long this conflict has dragged itself out.

"Evinwiir's slow descent into madness is having far-reaching consequences. The chancellor refuses to give in, and given what we know about him it's entirely possible he will let his city starve before he admits defeat. Elinwynn knows this, and her weak attempts at hiding the Cervidaen army from our eyes cannot mask her true intentions. Evinwiir will fall...but not to us."

"You really think they'll claim Whitetail for themselves?" Tercio asked.

"Absolutely. We face the prospect of a resurgent Cervidaen Hegemony in the very near future, and it scares me shitless. If they decide to be aggressive and push south, well..."

"I understand, sir. Have you told any of this to the princess?"

"More than once," Stonewall answered bitterly. "You know how it is: she insists we can delegate peace without Whitetail falling to either us or their redtail cousins, but I'm not so certain." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong, and my concerns are nothing compared to hundreds of years of leadership. One way or another, we'll find out soon enough."

In a narrow valley surrounded by snowed-in cliffs, Praxilus waited by his lonesome. He was miserable; cold and wet, famished and parched from his long trek through the woods. Gusts of sleet stung his eyes as he looked for any sign of the Equestrian Legion. Thick layers of clouds hid the sun from view, obscuring the passage of time, and he knew not how long it had been since Caethil had left his side. Hours, perhaps? Half a day? His dwindling supplies of food rattled and shifted in his bags as he struggled to remain warm. He wished he could build a fire, but everything here was soaked through by the slurry of rain and snow that fell from the sky and sapped his strength. Already he could feel his extremities going numb.

Perhaps the griffon had been humoring him, and he would die here, clinging to false hope as the life drained from his body. He certainly wouldn't have been surprised -- after all, it was his people that had been locked in a desperate, false war against her for over half a year. Equestria held every advantage. Leaving one unknown politician to his inevitable fate wasn't out of the question.

He pulled his rain tarp tighter against his body, shivering under the thin blanket of wax-treated broad leaves that had been stitched together to provide at least some protection from the elements. His thick bedroll was beginning to soak up the incessant, freezing rain that continued to come down just enough to turn everything into a snow-capped approximation of one of the Tiers of Punishment that the firebrands so loved to preach about on the street corners. The afterlife, they had always shouted, took many forms. A void of despair and unknowable cold was always a favorite. He could hardly imagine it would be any worse than what he was feeling then and there.

Out there, somewhere in the heart of Equestrian territory, Brother-Captain Caethil would be on his way to meet with the strange zebra he had so often mentioned. With any luck, he would make it before he froze to death or was assaulted by a frightened pony. In spite of the cold, the tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; if anyone could make it, it was Caethil.

Praxilus' ears perked up at the sound of nearby rustling and shouted commands in Equestrian tongue that echoed off the cliff walls. Signs of life. He wanted to celebrate, but was too weak to do anything except raise his head and wait.

Figures appeared along the treeline, silhouettes of stocky creatures in shining armor of steel and gold. One of them shouted to him, his limited grasp of Equestrian able to pick out only a few words. Stand. Stay.

He did as he was commanded, rising to his shaky hooves and shivering as the tarp slid off his back.

"Tu loqueris Equestri?" the same stallion asked, a winged pony with a coat the color of freshly fallen snow. A red cloak billowed behind him in the wind, and a crest of red bristles ran down the length of his metallic helm. The color of the Legion! The griffon had been telling the truth after all. "Tu loqueris Equestri, Cauda Alba?"

Praxilus shook his head, then bowed in respect. "N-Nisi parum, Domine." He hoped he had said it right. A hoof went to his chest. "Ego sum Praxilus."

The pony returned the gesture. "Meun nomen est Victus. Purgando, uno momentum." Victus -- at least, Praxilus thought that was his name -- let out a shrill whistle and motioned for someone to join him. "Fortis Cadere, auxilionem tuum postulo!" It only took a moment for a different pony, this time without wings, to join him. Slightly taller, and darker in color, the other soldier showed signs of a life of battle across his face, and one of his ears had been reduced to a scarred mass halfway up.

"You...Senator Praxilus, yes?" he asked in rough but understandable Wyyttalia.

"Yes, sir," Praxilus answered, bowing again. "You speak my language? I am very much relieved. For a while I thought I might die out here."

"Understand much, yes. Speak somewhat less. My name is Rockfall, Senator." He looked around, craning his neck to see into the valley beyond. "Where are others? Gilias say you have many soldiers for surrender."

Praxilus drooped his head, his ears flattening in shame. "They're dead. All of them." Rockfall lifted a foreleg in a gesture of surprise.

"No survivors of unit?"

"No. Not a one."

"What of Brother-Officer...Kethil?"

"Caethil," Praxilus corrected him. He took a deep breath and hoped the pony would believe him. "He was killed as well, I'm afraid. Myself and Senator Alyys were the only ones who managed to escape, though Alyys was seriously wounded and asked to be left behind. I am the only one who yet lives."

The two ponies conversed with each other as scenes of battle and frantic escape played through Praxilus' mind for the hundredth time that day. So many lives thrown away, lost to the damned redtail, all so that he could surrender to the ponies. Now he had to find a way to start making those sacrifices worth living for, and if that meant lying about Caethil's well-being, then so be it. He would play the part of the lone survivor.

"We are sorry to hear of their deaths, Praxilus," Rockfall continued. "You are sure of no others?"

"Just me."

"Victus wants to know why surrender. You are important deer in your nation."

Where to even begin? How could a pony possibly hope to understand all that he had been through? He decided to keep it simple. If they wished to know more later, then he would tell them everything. For now, he wished only for a hot meal and a warm, dry bed.

"Because...because my country has become a shadow of its former self. We are a people without purpose and without leaders. I will not be a part of it any longer." Tears welled up in his eyes, and he tried to blink them away as the thought of everything he'd left behind came to the forefront once again. "I want to help you, so that you can help us. Please."

Rockfall nodded, then called back to the ranks that remained within the cover of the trees. Even now they were prepared for a fight. No wonder Whitetail had been so handily defeated at nearly every turn.

"Come, we will take you in. You are safe now."

A thick blanket went over his back. Praxilus wanted to fall to his knees and weep in relief, overjoyed at his survival but stricken with immeasurable grief at the deaths of those who had sworn to help him. Instead, he sniffed back his tears and steadied his trembling jaw.

"Thank you, my friends. Thank you."

Cold rain tapped against the stained glass windows of Celestia's throne room. It was a dreary day even by winter standards, the kind of weather that turned the busy streets of Canterlot into a sparse collection of scattered citizens and business ponies who took shelter wherever they could. Life slowed to a crawl, and with it, the business of running Equestria.

She sighed as she flipped through a collection of poems for what felt like the tenth time that day. What she wouldn't have given to stand out on her balcony with the sun kissing her body, Tercio at her side, regaling her with tales of his youth or his time in the Equestrian and Royal Guard. He always insisted that his life was an uninteresting one, but she didn't care how mundane he thought his stories were. As long as he was with her, the world felt just a little bit brighter.

It had been only a short time since they'd finally expressed their love for one another, yet being together was all either of them could think about. Stealing a kiss here, a few moments alone there...that was the extent of their time together for most days. They hid their romance like a child might hide his shame at telling a lie, always being sure that there was no one to suspect otherwise. Stonewall knew, of course -- the old stallion seemed to know everything that happened within the palace -- but he was loyal and understanding without fault. So long as her relationship didn't interfere with military matters, he was content to let it happen.

In truth, she would have expressed her affection openly if not for the fear of Tercio's fellow Praetorians turning against him. To them she was an idol, a demigoddess to be held on high and protected to their last breaths. While there was no doubt in her mind that many of them wished they could fall for her, their commitment to duty was first and foremost. The attack on Canterlot, and subsequent battles around Equestria, had only cemented that ideal. Actually being in love with the princess would have amounted to a betrayal of everything they upheld. And so, she and Tercio kept their feelings hidden. It ate away at her like a poison, slowly but surely, and she knew one day they would get caught, but until that day she would do what she could to keep him in good standing, especially with his current trial period as Imperator-in-Training in full swing.

The great doors of the throne room swung open, a trio of armored ponies stepping through with their ornamental spears held high. They saluted as one, the stallion in the middle approaching the dais immediately after. He removed his helm and bowed.

"Good morning, Princess. My apologies if I am interrupting, but something has come to my attention recently that I thought you might want to know about."

Celestia smiled softly. "I assure you, Stormfront, you needn't worry about that. Now, what seems to be the issue?"

Stormfront reached into a satchel and withdrew a scroll. Celestia took it and unfurled it carefully, studying what appeared to be a map for a short time.

"A few days ago the 4th Legion was on patrol in western Whitetail, near the Cervidaen border. I assume you're familiar with the area? It was where the griffon discovered a vast field of slaughtered Nightmare Moon followers."

"I've heard tales. Thousands of bodies left to rot by the whitetail, or possibly redtail, in an apparent display of force. With Cervidaen forces poised to strike at their cousins, I've no doubt they could have accomplished such a task." The thought of so many lives taken in one fell stroke soured her mouth. Such a terrible thing. So many misguided souls, corrupted by the allure of her sister's dark presence. "Did the Legion find something else out there? Please don't tell me it was more death."

"There was no further slaughter that I am aware of, no. The contubernium was forced to seek shelter due to a particularly violent snow storm. They came upon a cave roughly six leagues from where the massacre had happened. While they were clearing it for any signs of danger, they happened to find a rather severely wounded mare hiding in one of the dark corners. Though she was armed, and wore the colors of the cultists, she offered no resistance. Instead, she pleaded for them to save her.

"After safely removing her weapon, Centurion Feldspar took it upon himself to see to her wounds. They were numerous, and some were infected. The mare was also suffering from dehydration and starvation, and I've no doubt she would have died if they'd not found her that day. They bound her hind legs and wings just to be sure she would not attempt escape, but Feldspar reports she was in no condition to run even if she'd wanted to. Once the storm had passed, they carried her away from that place and returned her to the Legion encampment. She would not say much when she was interrogated, but...she requested to speak with you, Princess. She was rather insistent."

Celestia cocked her head. "Me? What ever for? I am not typically in the habit of speaking with those who follow the false teachings of my sister."

"Yes, Your Highness, I understand," Stormfront said. "Truth be told, we were going to send her to Marestopholous to keep in the dungeons until we discover the nature of her crimes, but she swears upon her life that she has information about Nightmare Moon that you would find invaluable. She will not divulge any details to us, so I thought I would bring the matter to you directly."

"And where is she now?" Celestia asked.

"In the lower levels, kept in a cell by herself. I believe it would be safe if you wish to have words with her, as she possesses no weapons and cannot cast magic. Still, the possibility remains that she will use the opportunity to spread misinformation and sow doubt in your mind. You know how these cultist types can be."

Celestia tapped her hoof on the tile and let out a heavy breath. She could not very well turn down the possibility, no matter how small, that this mare could give her valuable information on Luna's continued efforts to disrupt and destroy Equestria. It would be the first solid lead she'd had for months; followers of Nightmare Moon tended to throw themselves suicidally at anyone who found them, and after the deaths of so many in western Whitetail they were scattered and unfocused, a far cry from the coordinated assault on Canterlot in the opening weeks of the war.

"Very well. I will speak with her if she so wishes it."

Stormfront nodded. "As you say, Princess. Would you like someone to escort you down to the dungeons?"

"No. In fact, I would ask that you bring her here, to the throne room."

"You're sure?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"It is mercy that will return the lost and misguided to Equestrian society, Stormfront. This mare has made no threats of violence or taken any actions against us since her capture, correct? Then I will meet with her as I would any other of my subjects. Please, have her brought up here."

"Right away, Your Highness." Stormfront saluted and left with his escorts, the palace doors slamming shut behind him.

A chance to learn more about Luna and her plans. Finally, after months of conflict, there was a spark of hope.

"Ah, Corvalix, you've returned. It's been some time, hasn't it?" Empress Elinwynn rose from her cushions to welcome her brother, embracing him with a sincere smile. "I was beginning to fear those traitors had gotten the better of you. And look at you! More scars for the collection. Haven't you grown tired of being carved like a stone fruit? You know, one of these days the does are going to stop considering it attractive."

Corvalix did not return her good nature, instead stepping to the table where flasks of amasec and dark wines awaited him. He poured himself a tall drink and thirstily gulped it down, letting out a sharp breath at the alcoholic bite.

"What's wrong? I know that look, dear brother, and it worries me to see it."

"We wiped out the traitor soldiers," Corvalix answered bitterly, "but Caethil and two of the senators managed to evade us."

Elinwynn's demeanor instantly changed. "They what?"

"Praxilus was far more skilled in magic than I'd been led to believe. He managed to teleport the three of them to some unknown location. We searched for hours for any sign of them, but they were long gone by the time we located their tracks. We found the old stag, Alyys, dead against a tree some time later, likely from internal injuries. But the others..." He shrugged. "One can only assume they reached Equestria."

A table was upended by a harsh blast of magic, scattering cups and spilling pitchers of water and wine across the floor.

"You assured me there would be no survivors!" Elinwynn yelled mere inches from his face, a fire in her eyes of such ferocity that it caused her to tremble.

"There were complications! How was I supposed to know Praxilus was a gifted magii? It is the fault of your vaunted spies that I went into battle with incomplete information, and even with that hindrance we still managed to wipe out Caethil's entire platoon!"

Elinwynn shoved a hoof against his chest. "Don't you blame this on me, Corvalix! You say you killed his soldiers -- so what? Congratulations, you slaughtered terrified bucks and frail politicians with your 'vastly superior' Exemplars. Truly, you are the hero Cervidae deserves," she mocked, returning to her seat across the room. A few long breaths helped calm her nerves as Corvalix swirled what was left of his drink, wisely choosing to remain silent until his sister's legendary anger receded. That same anger had been the death of many, relatives included, and he was under no illusions that he was exempt from her wrath if the cause was severe enough.

"This changes nothing," Elinwynn said. "Praxilus is still unable to speak out against me in the senate, and the others will view him as a traitor."

"And what if he speaks with our dear pony princess across the border?"

"Whether or not Celestia responds to my missive, we will still carry out our plans. If Praxilus does make it to her first then it won't matter what she chooses, now will it? I would prefer if we could remove a significant portion of her forces before the campaign begins in proper, but such a thought may be a distant luxury at best. Take a couple of days to recover from your wounds, for I will need you at full strength for what is to come."

"As you wish," Corvalix answered. "And what of the whitetail? There is unrest in this city, far greater than we had predicted, and the rabble rousing done by Praxilus before his departure has turned many of our 'beloved cousins' against us."

Elinwynn laughed bitterly. "The time for 'hearts and minds' has passed. I have tried to be fair, to be just and generous, but they will not listen. We are not welcomed as saviors anymore, and every day more and more of them call for the chancellor's head on a silver platter. I am done pretending to give a damn about their petty squabbles. The Cervidaen Hegemony did not grow to become the most powerful nation in the known world because it was built on kind words and vague promises. I will not coddle them any longer."

Corvalix bowed to placate her and wiped the spatters of wine from his coat. He had his reservations about a great many things, almost all of them related to Elinwynn's brash nature and unflinching decisiveness, but now was neither the time nor the place to bring them up. If she wanted to ignite a war, then nothing was going to change her mind.

"I shall take my leave for the night, then. I will be battle-ready within a couple of days, as you request, and no matter the cost I will see the manifest destiny of Cervidae followed to the letter."

"I should hope so," Elinwynn said without looking at him. "Before you go, tell the guards to find me a buck. No -- a buck and a doe. I am not sated, and I refuse to rest until I am. And get me a damned servant to clean up this mess!"