Morning always seemed to come far too quickly for Praxilus these days. The former senator was used to rising early, sometimes well before dawn, but the chronic lack of sleep that now tormented him had made the glow of the rising sun less of a welcome sight and more of a reminder of everything he'd lost.

Still, northern Equestria had a certain undeniable beauty to it. The mountainous surroundings were astounding in their grandeur, a far cry from the gently rolling hills and forests of southern Whitetail, though the biting cold left something to be desired. He supposed it was the wind that he despised more than the cold itself, for Marestopholous seemed to be under a perpetual gale during this time of year. It howled like a pack of windigos as he made himself a cup of pine tea, one of the few familiar comforts that could be provided this far from home.

His former home, he reminded himself. It had been a strange, trying time since he'd turned himself over to the Legion. Distrust was ever-present when he spoke with the myriad ponies who had come to question him for the first several days, both on his side and theirs. Praxilus spoke little Equestrian, and few ponies spoke Whyttalia, so their conversations were often fraught with frustration and repetition. And the questions! Depending on who he was speaking to on that particular day, he could spend hours being interrogated before being allowed to return to his quarters. They'd asked him about Whitetail and its political process in great detail, which he was certainly knowledgeable of, and on those days he was content, sometimes even comfortable. Other times they would grill him about military proceedings, unit structure, overarching battle plans and a hundred other minutae he hadn't the foggiest bit of valuable information on. "I'm a senator," he'd argue, "not a general." It was those days that were the longest, and by far the most tiring.

Mild annoyances and long conversations aside, he could never fault the Equestrians for their hospitality. He had fully expected to be tossed into a dungeon cell in some damp, dark hole, but they had, for the most part, shown him the utmost courtesy. His living space these days was a comfortable if spartan dwelling in the city's northern district, complete with a proper bed and a small fireplace. His meals were delivered to him thrice daily and he was able to request extra amenities at any time. It could have been far worse.

It did not mean, of course, that he was free to do as he pleased. His quarters were guarded day and night by several stallions in segmented armor, stationed just outside, and iron bars lined his windows and barred the door. They claimed it was for his own safety as much as theirs. He doubted they were wrong.

Though it was still early Marestopholous was already coming to life. Ponies cantered along the cobblestone streets with satchels slung over their backs and wisps of smoke billowed from chimneys as Equestria started another day. Several streets down, just visible beyond the bustle of sellers setting up their carts, a long line of whitetail in simple garments marched in double lines with numerous armed soldiers at their sides. More prisoners? There certainly wasn't a lack of them these days.

The front door unlocked with a metallic clack. A pony said something in Equestrian to another, too muffled to be understood. Praxilus made sure he was presentable -- a good first impression went a long way -- and waited for the door to swing open. In stepped a rather tall stag who dipped his head to avoid knocking his antlers on the door frame. He wore a strange body wrap, a toga, he recalled, made of off-white cloth with green trim. It hung loosely from one of his shoulders down to his knees.

"Senator Praxilus, I presume. I am Eradaxis Ent'wyyl, former Standard-Commander of the Evinwiir Capital Guard. It's an honor to meet you, sir." The stag bowed in respect and Praxilus returned the gesture. Only now did he notice the long scar that ran from his right ear down to the base of his neck, a sure sign of battle if he'd ever seen one.

"The honor is all mine, Eradaxis. Please, sit." He gestured to a pair of large pillows on the floor. It was strange to see another whitetail stopping by, especially one who was apparently a veteran. "Can I interest you in a cup of pine tea?"

"That would be very welcome, thank you."

He poured a steaming cup from the bronze kettle, adding a small dollop of honey and stirring it in. "You'll have to excuse me, I was not expecting company this early, much less one of my own kind. The only visitors I seem to get these days are Equestrians looking to interrogate me on some inane detail I've already told them ten times over. Not much for conversation, usually."

"So I imagine," Eradaxis replied with a smirk, taking his cup. "Thank you, Senator. Your hospitality is most appreciated."

"You can drop the title, I'm not a senator anymore. I'm nothing more than a sanaliis as far as my colleagues are concerned. I'd be surprised if anyone in Whitetail wasn't calling for my head."

"You might be surprised, yes, but for a different reason. Everyone thinks you're dead."

Praxilus cocked his head. "Truly? Where did you hear this?"

"From Corvalix, of course. He told everyone he cut you down with his own blade. The murderous tahl'waan apparently decided to cover his own ass when he couldn't find you. Imagine my surprise when the ponies told me you were alive and well! I knew I had to pay you a visit, and they were generous enough to allow me to do so."

"Fucking Corvalix. Even still he toys with the good people of Whitetail. I had hoped he'd managed to fall on his own blade."

"No such luck, I'm afraid. Don't worry, he'll get his. It's just a matter of time."

"We can only hope." Praxilus pointed to the Equestrian clothing. "It is not often I see one of ours wearing such an outfit. Are you a prisoner as well?"

"In a manner of speaking. It's quite the tale, actually. I find myself in the strange position of actively helping the ponies after months of fighting them. The fates have a bizarre sense of humor."

"Isn't that the damned truth? I find myself in the same position, though obviously without the combat experience. What's your story?"

Eradaxis sipped from his cup as he considered how best to tell his tale. Everything seemed to have happened so quickly.

"Well...as I said, I was with the Capital Guard. For most of the war I was a Standard-Commander charged with supervising defenses along the southern wall. Slow work at first, but as the war progressed and the siege began I found myself battling pegasus teams as much as supplying siege weapons. Got this nice little scar from one of them. For their diminutive size the bastards sure can fight.

"I actually heard about you and the others defecting on the same day that it happened. Word spread quickly that the 15th Capital Guard had turned traitor and run off with three senators in tow. I didn't know what to think. I despised the ponies for bringing war to our lands, but at the same time I could see the corruption that was seeping into our great nation like a disease. Every day that passed was another day our people were dying for a war we could no longer win. I think it took the sacrifice of our 'treasonous' brothers to make us realize just how desperate the situation had become, and how much we'd been lied to." He dipped his head and made an x-shape over his heart. "May the spirits of our ancestors watch over their souls."

Praxilus did the same. "Indeed so. They were fine bucks to the last. Their deaths weigh on me like I cannot even begin to describe. All these lives lost so that I might live..."

"They will not be forgotten. In fact, I believe their sacrifice became a tipping point for Evinwiir as a whole. Our home is a hollow shell of its former self, and things have taken a turn for the worse -- far worse -- since you left. Under order of his sister, Corvalix started a systematic 'cleansing' of the city. He was tasked with bringing his particular brand of justice to anyone he viewed as a traitor, whether they were guilty of their crimes or not. He'd run them through, then burn their homes down with emerald flame. Before long half of the southern district was alight. That's when my unit decided that we needed to do something to stop the senseless slaughter."

"So you stood against him?" Praxilus asked.

"That we did. And we weren't the only ones! Several of the Guard units decided that they weren't going to stand by and let the redtail dogs corrupt our very way of life. Some succeeded in resisting and escaping; others did not. We were fortunate to meet with a larger contingent of whitetail loyalists after an initial battle with Corvalix and his retinue.

"There was a mass of civilians trying to flee the city toward the safety of the Equestrian lines. They pleaded with us to help them, so we did. Managed to get those gates open, which was no small feat, I can tell you that! Whatever prejudices we may have held against the ponies, we knew they were more likely to show us mercy than our own damned 'allies' ever would.

"Corvalix was furious. He started indiscriminately firing into the fleeing crowd with arrows and flame pots. We took up a rear guard action to protect them as best we could, but even we had to flee eventually." Eradaxis sighed. "Not many of us made it. A dozen from my squad, forty from the greater Guard collective. Scattered soldiers here and there. At least we managed to save some civilians. Over five thousand, from what I hear. There have been more trickling out of the city since then, but since the war with Cervidae began it's ceased almost entirely."

Praxilus felt nauseous. He'd feared the Equestria/Cervidae war for some time, seeing it as an inevitability. Hearing confirmation of it, though...that was something else entirely.

"Your actions will live on in history, my friend. Saving those civilians may be the only just thing we've accomplished in this whole damned fiasco. They owe you their lives, and for that I cannot thank you enough. I'm glad to hear Whitetail started coming to its senses, even if it was only for a time. No doubt Elinwynn and Corvalix are making it a point to stamp out dissent wherever possible."

"That's why the Equestrians need to win," Eradaxis agreed.

"And what of Vinawyll? How is our 'brave leader' handling things these days?"

"He performs the duty of a puppet dancing on strings quite admirably. He has no power in Evinwiir anymore, to say nothing of Whitetail proper. He knows it, the people know it, and the royal monsters who control him now certainly know it." He spat at the mere mention of the chancellor's name, as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. "Spirits curse his family to the seventh generation. Eternal damnation would be too good for him."

A new stage of the war, murder and senseless destruction back home, corruption at the highest levels of government...it was all so tiring. Praxilus mused that a scant year ago, had someone told him of such things, he would have laughed in their face. He'd believed fully in the glory of Whitetail and its leaders, and though he sometimes hated the internal politics of senate life he was genuinely proud to be a part of something greater than himself. Elinwynn had changed all of that seemingly overnight.

Having Eradaxis on his side was a much needed morale boost. Now he didn't feel quite so alone in his opposition to his own government. Who else might be willing to join him, he wondered. There had to be more disenfranchised whitetail out there, just waiting for someone, anyone, to give them a voice.

"Can I trust you with some particularly secretive information, Eradaxis?"

"Of course. What is it?"

Praxilus lowered his voice after a quick check of his surroundings. "Brother-Commander Caethil yet lives."

Eradaxis jerked his head back in surprise. "How do you know this?"

"Because he was with me up until I waited for the ponies to capture me. We managed to escape and head south, toward the border, after the bucks of the 15th gave their lives. He said he had some important matter to see to, and promised to return in due time. That was the last I saw of him."

Eradaxis sat in quiet disbelief for a moment. "First I find out you're alive, then I find out Caethil has been spared from death. Is there anyone else I should know about?"

"I'm afraid not," Praxilus said. "I thought you'd want to know about him. I haven't even told the interrogators what I just told you. Do try to keep it between us."

"You have my word, on the honor of my family name. This is welcome news to be sure." Eradaxis finished his cup and set it aside. For all of the horrible things that had been said about him by those who believe him a traitor, Praxilus seemed as trustworthy and sincere as anyone. If Whitetail survived this new war, they would need strong leaders like him. "As you may have guessed, my purpose here is not merely small talk. There is something far more pressing that I thought you should know about: Equestria is losing ground with every passing day, and at this rate the redtail will be at Marestopholous within the week. That is why you've no doubt seen the whitetail prisoners being moved en masse. The ponies don't want them being repatriated by the advancing deer."

Praxilus was taken aback by the news. "You'll forgive me if I'm weary of such claims. Last I heard, the ponies were holding their own."

"Who told you that? The same ones who press you for answers? They are merely saving face. I am honestly quite surprised you have not heard of the utter disaster at Quillyyn Keep."

"What do you mean? We lost it early in the war with Equestria; that was considered a disaster by all accounts."

"And rightly so. That was the beginning of the end for us -- but now it may serve the same purpose for the ponies. A partially rebuilt Quillyyn was the first major battle of the new war, and the ponies lost. Hard. It was an utter rout, if what I hear is true. The ponies made Corvalix pay for every step, but the outcome was inevitable. Now the armies of Cervidae and its puppet allies are marching south."

The Equestrian military had been seemingly invincible during the first stage of the war, never losing a major battle and relentlessly advancing until they were at the very gates of Whitetail's capital. They were strong, without a doubt. Well-trained, well-disciplined and equipped with the finest equipment their nation could provide.

But after the slaughter of the 15th Capital Guard by Corvalix and his Exemplars, he knew all too well the capabilities of the redtail. He suddenly felt very small. What would he do if the redtail were within striking distance? He would have to flee, one way or another. Perhaps the ponies would evacuate him soon. Perhaps they would leave him to fend for himself. If so, he would need some way to end his own life, for being taken alive would be a fate far worse than a swift death!

"I wish I had some way to help, but I am nothing more than a glorified informant at this point," he said, re-centering himself with a deep breath. "I have faith in the Equestrians. They'll find a way to adapt."

"Adaptation isn't the issue, Praxilus. It's a game of numbers. I don't know if the ponies can do it alone." He tugged at his outfit. "That's why I volunteered to lead a band of whitetail loyalists. We're going to fight alongside the Equestrians, shield to shield. We'll take back our homes, or we'll die trying."

"I had no idea there were bucks willing to do so. One bit of good news, I suppose. How many are you?"

Eradaxis tapped a hoof while he mentally tallied up his forces. "Between the main force outside the city and the smaller bands spread throughout the local area, I'd say...around six hundred, maybe slightly more. Most are soldiers who fled from around Whitetail once the redtail started making their move; they're just as disenfranchised with things as you or I. We've had a fair number of fleeing civilians volunteer to join us as well. They're not proper warriors, but they can serve their purpose as second tier supports. Archers, supply runners, magii aides, that sort of thing."

He got up and went to the window, his confident air fading just a touch. "If it should come to it, I want you to be prepared to leave the city with the Equestrians. A mass evacuation may not be far off, and if it is then we're going to have a lot of whitetail prisoners that might entertain thoughts of escape and collusion. Perhaps you could speak with them, convince them that staying within Equestrian custody is in their best interests? They'll know who you are. Your words will carry weight, I'm sure of it."

"Or they could refuse to listen to a single word I say," Praxilus retorted. "Let's not forget that many of them, likely the majority, still harbor resentment toward the ponies. They don't know the inner workings of the government, the level of treachery and corruption like we do."

"Then make them understand. Offer them a place at my side, a chance to fight back against the redtail who have all but enslaved our nation and our people. If we can convince even a few, then we will have accomplished something."

Praxilus considered his options. Though public speaking was in his blood, it had always been before other senators or citizens of Evinwiir. But veteran soldiers turned prisoners? That would be a significant challenge. Still, if it might help...

"Alright," he said at last. "I'll do what I can, should the situation allow for it, but I can't guarantee anything."

"As long as you try, andwyyn, that is all I can ask. I'm afraid I must be going, but we will meet again soon. Do take care of yourself, Senator." Eradaxis bowed in respect one last time, then headed to the door. He paused as his hoof touched the handle. "Ah, right, I'd nearly forgotten." A small crystalline container was pulled from his satchel, carefully wrapped in cloth. He set it down on the small table near him. "I thought you might enjoy a taste of home. I had to stuff a few coins into the guard's purse to get it through, but I think you'll find it was worth the price. Consider it a reminder of what we're fighting for. Spirits be with you, Praxilus."

"Another missive for you, Princess." A courier passed a wrapped scroll and saluted, departing as soon as Celestia had the message floating before her. She dreaded opening it, for the news from around Equestria had been nothing but terrible all morning. It was added to the stack on her desk, one of many. It would not be the last.

Spread out before her lay reports from the front. Each told a story of horrific violence and loss in the frustratingly clipped and to-the-point language of military communication. Generals, unit commanders, supply overseers -- all had something to say, their collective experiences forming a grim picture of Equestria's floundering defenses.

After-Battle Report for 8th of New Snows, 3E01.

Location: Quillyyn Keep, southern Whitetail.

Encountered mixed army of Cervidaen and Whitetail soldiers. Estimated strength: 7-10,000 initial, 2,500-3,000 additional. Enemy forces engaged in the early morning by combined Equestrian defenders. Strength: approximately 3,850 Equestrian Guard, 866 Royal Guard, 280 Legionary.

Initial long-range bombardment exchanged on both sides. Losses minimal. Deployment of magically enhanced Ice Arrows effective. Advancing deer forces harassed by pegasus flights deploying several methods of attack. Fly-overs ordered to cease after Cervidaen Protectorate "magii" deployed hereto unknown paralysis spell that caused heavy losses to our pegasi.

Main body of Equestrian army clashed with the deer soon after, causing a stalemate. Force of numbers resulted in a gradual loss of position, with reports of additional reinforcements heading toward Quillyyn Keep from the east. A general retreat order was issued, with all able-bodied stallions falling back to the keep itself. Detonation of buried "emerald flame" stores inflicted an estimated 3-400 deaths and numerous injuries on the deer, and formed an effective wall that allowed our army to retreat in safety.

Approximate Equestrian losses: 856 confirmed dead, 1,144 wounded, 217 missing.

Quillyyn Keep left for advancing deer to reclaim, albeit in a poor state. As of the time of writing this report, the bulk of the 1st Equestrian Army has fled south to the border. Will regroup with 3rd Equestrian Guard for resupply. Further reports to follow.

-General Phalanx

Commander, 1st Equestrian Army

She read through it twice. So many lives lost, yet as all she felt was an overwhelming numbness. Six months of war with Whitetail had seen thousands die, and just when it seemed that it might all be over Elinwynn had reignited the flames of conflict. Now even more ponies were falling every day, in greater numbers than before. Their lives blurred together into statistics -- numbers on a ledger or notes on a report -- and she hated herself for it.

It had taken days for the scroll to reach her, now one of many, each telling of a crushing defeat. Together they told a story of desperate battles against overwhelming numbers and hereto unseen magics, with soldiers and civilians alike caught up in the sweeping maelstrom that was the advancing Cervidaen armies.

Eighteen dead in Mountain's Edge, the closest settlement to the border. Ten lost in a skirmish near the eastern edge of Whitetail Wood. Thirty civilians and two dozen soldiers cut down in Farrowfields, their bodies left in the open. Trotting Valley, Argo-on-the-River, Moon Glade, Sparrow Port, Starfall -- the deer advance seemed to move unabated through Equestria, sweeping south and east to cut off supplies from the fertile grass lands and burning any stores of food they could find.

If they were not stopped, or at least delayed, Corvalix and his bucks would be at Marestopholous within a week. From there it would be a scant two weeks, perhaps a month at the most, until Canterlot itself was within range of their siege weapons. Equestria needed more; more supplies, more weapons...more bodies to throw at the enemy, to refill the ranks.

Hesitantly she pulled a scroll from beside her desk. It had been there since before the start of the new war, though until this moment she hadn't seriously considered its proposal. Her generals had assured her that it was in Equestria's best interest to sign off on it; promised that it would be handled with the utmost care and professionalism.

It was a simple thing, brief and plainly written with the seal of the sun adorning the top right corner. She read it over and over, as if in a dream.

ATTENTION

By order of the Royal Court, all stallions between the ages of 17 and 45 are to report to the nearest Guard post for conscription into the greater Equestrian Military pending a physical examination. Exemptions will be detailed at local Guard centers. Those who have previously served are asked to report to senior officers directly in order to speed up the process. Equipment and pay to be determined upon completion of training.

Anyone of sound body and mind found refusing to serve will face fines and imprisonment.

Serve your country. Protect your family. The deer menace will not stop until it is thoroughly defeated.

Honor to Equestria.

A quill and ink well levitated onto her desk. She hovered the phoenix feather just above the parchment. So much pointless death and destruction, all of it cataloged before her. Never, in the entire history of Equestria, had there been a conscription. Even at the worst of times during the great strife of her parents' era there had been some hope to hold onto, a glittering light that could be reached through negotiation or the proper application of force in the right place. Now she would be raising what amounted to little more than a militia, a hastily assembled mass of bodies to shield the more veteran soldiers while they did their duty. It was horrible, even unthinkable. So many of them would die, and many more would hate her for the rest of their lives. They would blame her, curse her name...and they would be right. But it had to be done.

She thought of her parents, of her sister, of the thousands of families that would be torn apart, and could not find it within herself to hold back the tears as she signed her name in approval.

"Forgive me."