It was not yet mid-day in Canterlot, but the frenzied mass of civilians that crowded into the castle's Great Hall had not let up for hours on end. Hundreds of ponies were jammed into its confines, shouting and demanding to be seen by Celestia herself. An entire squad of Praetorians barred the doors that led to the throne room hallway, backed up by two squads of Royal Guards stationed on the balconies above. They stood in place with their shields forming a wall, alert for any sign of weapons or agitators.

Just beyond the closed doors, Tercio struggled with stacks of reports from all over Equestria. They had to be sorted by commander and unit, parsed for relevant information, and then approved before they could be sent on for either Celestia's or a senior officer's signature -- an already complicated process made significantly more challenging and frustrating thanks to the recent general conscription mandate. The reaction had been immediate, with unrest springing up all over the country even as the northern settlements were being hastily relocated to the south, out of the path of the advancing deer. It seemed that the whole world had gone mad overnight, and Tercio was stuck directly in the middle of it all.

Something bounced off the other side of the ornate doors, accompanied by a brief flaring of shouts. It had been like this all morning. He didn't imagine it would get any better. He shook his head and went back to his work.

"Imperator Gilded Harp, 8th Equestrian Guard...brief skirmish with the deer, no casualties. Requesting additional maces and two crates of medical salves and potions." Requisitions. Not important enough for the princess. He rolled the scroll and tied it off, adding a small blue wax stamp to show that it was meant for the senior cadre. It joined dozens of others in a crate near his impromptu work desk.

"General Calavius Stratus, Cloudsdale Reconnaissance lead...deer spotted moving in from the west, aware of Cloudsdale's location." Tercio shook his head. Having streamers of brightly-colored spectra cascading from your city probably didn't help with concealment. The pegasi always did have a way with showponyship. Now it was biting them in the ass.

A second note had been added to the first, more hastily scrawled. "Redtail magii have begun attempting to break up the city with weather spells and levitated explosive devices. Effect on the city is minimal, but all civilians have been evacuated to the south-east for their own safety. Cloudsdale requests any available reinforcements, as well as three hundred barrels of fresh water for cloud production and drinking."

A red stamp marked it as the utmost urgency. He passed it to one of his runners who would personally present it to Celestia. Cloudsdale was the one city most likely to come out of this war mostly unscathed, thanks to its ease of being repaired and rebuilt, but clouds weren't exactly much of a defense against shrapnel pots and whatever implements the deer could come up with to toss at its defenders.

A younger initiate in a blue cloak pushed through the double doors and saluted as they closed once more behind him. He was covered in bits of vegetables and grains that clung to his coat and armor.

"Sir, Decanus Rimeberry requests your aid with the crowd. They are becoming rather, uh, unruly." He brushed a chunk of tomato from his chest plate. "Damned mob is what it is."

Tercio swore inwardly. Nothing could ever be easy. "Thank you for the message, initiate. Go get yourself cleaned up." Grabbing his spear and shield he braced himself for what was doubtlessly going to be a trying experience. The doors swung open as he finished placing his helm upon his head. Immediately he was greeted by the collective racket of hundreds of shouting ponies that only grew louder as some of them saw him for the first time. He hoped his stature would help drive his authority home, though he knew it could very well have the opposite effect.

"Glad to see you could join us," Rimeberry shouted over his shoulder. The crowd had apparently grown tired of throwing things, at least for the time being. Tercio stepped over rotten cabbage and bits of food and stood directly behind the shield wall. He still had to raise his voice to be heard mere inches away.

"Star Chaser said you needed my help! Things really that bad?"

"See for yourself! Proper mess, this is!"

"Anyone become violent yet? Any signs of weapons?"

"Nothing so far, unless you count some nasty old vegetables! Maybe you can bring some order, or at least get them to throw shit at you for a while!"

Tercio raised his voice. "Excuse me, if you would all just--" The jeering grew louder. Someone called him a 'freak'. "Please, if I could have your attention for a moment?"

"I don't think that's gonna work," Rimeberry quipped.

With a grunt of annoyance Tercio lifted his shield and slammed its edge onto the floor as hard as he could, causing even the other soldiers to jump at the sound. "Enough!"

That had done the job. All eyes were on him now, a mix of anger and hesitancy intertwined with those who simply wanted answers. He spoke up once more with the same commanding presence he used when speaking to the fledgling Praetorian candidates, firm yet fair.

"My apologies. I am Centurion Tercio Krosus, acting commander of the 105th Praetorian Guard while Imperator Stonewall is otherwise occupied. Any questions or concerns you may have may be directed to me. I cannot guarantee that I will have all the answers, but I will most certainly do what I can. Now, how can I help?"

A chorus of shouted questions were his immediate answer, and he struggled to pick out any particular one from the crowd. He pointed to a middle-aged mare near the front and the crowd quieted down once more.

"Why aren't you doing more to stop this?" she asked. Her eyes were red from crying. "My boy isn't a soldier! He's never hurt anyone! What help could he possibly be? Please, let him come home!"

Several others raised their voices in support. Tercio stuck out his hand to placate her as he considered his words.

"I'm sure your son is a fine young stallion, but these are challenging times for us all. Equestria is under attack like we've never seen before. Princess Celestia knew this would be an unpopular decision, but she felt it was the only way to preserve our way of life and the livelihoods of all ponies. Your son is in good hooves, ma'am. He'll receive the finest equipment and training."

"I don't give a damn about what the princess thinks! How am I supposed to trust her to keep my boy safe when she couldn't even protect her own sister?"

He was glad Celestia wasn't around to hear that.

"Princess Luna's situation was unfortunate and tragic, but it was an exceptional circumstance that led to her banishment. Rest assured that we will do everything in our power to keep your son safe. If I may ask, what is his name?"

The mare sniffed back her tears. "Calegio. Calegio Astoris, after his grandfather."

"And is he from here, in Canterlot?"

She nodded. "Yes. He's not a fighter, sir. The boy can barely speak above a whisper sometimes. Please, just...just don't take him from me. I still mourn his father; he was with the 25th Equestrian Guard at the battle of Everfree Forest. I couldn't stand to lose my son, too."

Tercio made a mental note to ask one of the senior officers to assign this Calegio to something away from the front lines. If this mare had lost a family member to the war already, perhaps he could do something to help.

"I give you my word that he will be looked after, domina," he promised, adding the formal title at the end to show respect. It seemed to placate her for the moment. "You, sir, toward the back. You have a question?"

A pegasus in a stained traveling tunic lifted himself just above the crowd. "I've already done my part for my country. I served for eight years in the Equestrian Guard, but I have a business and a family to look after now. If I leave, what will happen to them?"

"I'm sure they will be able to look after your business in your temporary absence, sir. You will, of course, be paid for your continued service."

"And who are you to be the princess' messenger? For that matter, what are you? I've never seen your kind before!"

Tercio grew weary of his attitude already. "I am a soldier of Equestria. Everything else is secondary. If you truly are former service then you'll understand, I'm sure. We have need of experienced stallions to--"

The stallion threw his hooves in the air. "This is ridiculous! I already give a quarter of my goods to the military storehouses! Doesn't that mean anything?"

That changed things a bit. "You're a supplier? What business do you own?"

"I run a bread shop in High Haunch, have for years."

"In that case you may be exempt from service. Bring your ledger with you when you speak to someone at the local Guard post. We need food as much as we need swords and armor. Your contributions to Equestria are appreciated."

"They damned well better be."

The crowd was starting to get agitated again. Best to nip it in the bud.

"Everyone, please! I understand you're upset, and you have every right to be, but you must understand: Princess Celestia would not have taken such a drastic measure unless it was absolutely necessary. I do not know what you've heard of our war with Cervidae and their Whitetail puppets, but allow me to state in the most clear, concise manner I can that every able-bodied stallion is needed to ensure the survival of our nation and our people.

"The deer are a difficult opponent, and they fully believe that we are the true threat to peace and prosperity. They will not stop until everything we know and love has been shattered. We must drive them back across the border, and we must do so now. Together, with the support of the gods that watch over us, we can do exactly that -- but it's going to take each and every one of us doing our part. Your husbands, sons and brothers will be part of a military that treats its own like family, and I can assure you that they will receive the absolute best training that Equestria can offer."

The quality of training wasn't the issue. Time was. If the deer continued unabated they would arrive at the capital in a month at most. Taking into account processing, equipment issuing and deployment orders, the stallions would be lucky to get two weeks worth of combat training. That was enough time to learn the basics of sword and board, perhaps even volley archery where number mattered more than individual accuracy, but beyond that they would be nothing more than glorified militia. Looking out across the masses, his stomach churned at the thought of so many of them inevitably losing loved ones before the war could come to an end.

"If anyone has further questions, I suggest you speak to your local Guard representatives. There are numerous exceptions to the conscription order, and all exemptions are on a case by case basis. The princess thanks you for your support." As soon as he turned around, Tercio leaned in to Rimeberry and spoke over the commotion. "We'll be here all damned day if this keeps up. Have these people escorted out, would you?"

"We'll try," Rimeberry replied with an exhausted glance. "Hopefully you got through to some of them."

"I suppose we'll find out."

The noise of the crowd faded as Tercio closed the doors behind him once more. He grabbed the scroll box then began the walk down the heavily guarded corridors to the senior officers' planning room -- and Celestia's quarters soon after. It would, at least, be a bright spot on an otherwise miserable morning.

Celestia's door was partway open when he knocked. He chanced a peek inside, seeing only the empty oaken desk through the narrow gap.

"Yes?" she asked after a moment, unseen.

"More scrolls for you, Princess, per your orders," he answered.

"Tercio? You really needn't bother with formality, my love. Please, come in."

He set the box down beside the desk. Two others were stacked next to it, each filled to the brim -- one for her, full of approved orders, and one for the officers who would be by to pick them up when they were available. It was little wonder no one had seen hide nor hair of the princess since the very early morning. By the look of things, she was busy fulfilling requests for every single pony in the nation.

He closed the door for privacy, then approached to where she was seated on a large, ornate cushion across the room next to a low table. Small plates of half-eaten foods and a kettle of steaming tea were spread across it, along with yet more unrolled scrolls marked with red stamps.

"Sorry to give you yet more things to fret about," he said, bending down to give her a kiss before sitting beside her. "I tried to keep only the matters of utmost importance for you. Logistics, personal requests -- those can go to the others."

"I don't mind," she answered plainly, though the bags under her eyes said different. "Being aware of Equestria's well-being at all times is my duty, and I would gladly read through a thousand scrolls if it meant saving even one life."Celestia rested her head against his shoulder, her ethereal mane flowing over his back like gently rolling waves. The crackling warmth of the fireplace threatened to lull her to sleep. Her body ached for rest, made the very thought of it more enticing than any fine meal or lustful ecstasy. All she had to do was close her eyes...

She blinked away the exhaustion and sat up straight again, pouring herself another cup of tea. She offered one to Tercio, but he politely declined.

"We're in a bad place, Tercio. Equestria, I mean. Elinwynn has amassed a force unlike anything that's been seen in our own history, and they've claimed nearly a quarter of our territory in a scant week and a half. We lack the numbers to face them directly, and Corvalix is not so easy to catch unaware with ambushes or quick raids." She pulled a map from under a stack of notes. It was marked as being from the previous day, the myriad strategic symbols showing the path of the redtail/whitetail advance and their projected path through Equestria. General Tyrelius, of the 5th Equestrian Army, had signed off at the bottom in approval.

"So far we've had to evacuate over forty small settlements, eight villages and two major trading hubs in order to keep the ponies safe from the wrath of the approaching deer. Unlike Whitetail proper, the Cervidaen-led forces seem to have no issue exacting a terrible toll on our citizens. You can say what you like about Chancellor Vinawyll -- I certainly have -- but at least he adhered to some code of conduct and honor. Now that he's nothing more than a puppet he likely has no say in the matter."

Tercio studied the map carefully, aware of the fact that such conversation was key to keeping Celestia alert and focused. How easy it would have been to take her hoof and lead her to bed, lying beside her until she fell into a well-deserved slumber. Such a thing would have to wait.

"I had heard we were losing ground, but this is beyond the scope of anything I had dreamt. Is there anything we can do to stem this tide?"

"I'm considering something rather...drastic," Celestia said apprehensively. "I've been advised by the senior cadre that the only realistic way of holding off the deer is an all-or-nothing defense. We could fight the deer on terrain favorable to our abilities if we do so, but it entails focusing all of our soldiers around Canterlot."

Tercio felt his stomach drop. "That can't be the only way."

"I said the same thing. Unfortunately, it may end up being our one chance at salvation. The conscription has added many thousands to our forces, but they're not proper soldiers. We've been using them to evacuate citizens. A few of our hastily assembled supplementary units have fought the deer in the process, and every time they meet it's a one-sided slaughter. We can't rely upon them to form the bulk of our armies, and we certainly can't afford to spread our forces out across the entire country. For the time being we will continue to move everyone in imminent danger further south. That includes Marestopholous."

"Is such a thing even possible?" he asked in surprise. "There are tens of thousands there, not to mention the majority of our war prisoners. Evacuating them all would be a monumental task."

"It would be," she agreed, "but I see no other choice. Defending Marestopholous would mean a prolonged siege that would cost stallions and equipment that we just can't spare if the deer decide to spread out and go around it while we're preoccupied with fortifying the place. If anything should happen to the city, well...we can always rebuild."

"And what of the ponies there? Southern Equestria can be bitterly cold this time of year, and even if you move them closer to the Sea of Lights there is no infrastructure in place to provide for so many."

She cast her eyes down at the thought. "I don't know. We're making this up as we go along. None of us ever envisioned a scenario where such a rapid evacuation was necessary. We'll find a way.

"With everyone to the south, and the only viable route to their new location blocked by the mountains, the deer will have no choice but to funnel through the valley under Canterlot. Not even they will want to climb the sheer peaks of the Swaybacks."

Such drastic news was like a kick to the gut. Tercio thought of all the ponies who would be forced from their homes, taking only the belongings they could carry with them. They would be confused, frightened, saddened. So many, so quickly. There were countless places in danger, including...

"Summervale. My parents! If the deer should decide to swing west they'll run right into the farmstead!" he said in a moment of panic.

Celestia placed a hoof on his shoulder. "It's alright. I've already communicated with the Guard outpost in the area. They're ready to take the ponies of Summervale, including your parents, to safety at a moment's notice."

"Can you have them brought here, to Canterlot? I will gladly pay for them to stay at an inn for as long as is necessary if it means they'll be safe."

"Of course," Celestia said. "I will be extending the same offer to any Praetorian's family who might be in danger. Rest assured that no harm will come to them."

"Thank you. I wouldn't be able to cope with leaving them out there." Tercio took a deep breath to calm himself. "So...what now?"

She considered the map as she bit her lip in thought. There were still too many unknowns to make a decisive choice.

"I'm not sure yet. I have a meeting with the senior cadre in a few hours; I guess we'll know more soon enough. I hope they've come up with some alternative to abandoning most of the country to the will of the deer." With no satisfying answer to the problem at hoof, she quickly changed the subject. "How are our new Praetorians doing? Stonewall tells me you've done an admirable job training them."

Truth be told, Tercio was more than happy to talk about something he had some degree of control over. Watching over an entire nation was beyond what he could imagine.

"They are doing surprisingly well. Most of them are combat veterans in their own right, so aside from our specific traditions and heavier focus on small-unit tactics they are already quite familiar with most of what they're being trained in. I'm not sure if I would trust them to have my back in a fight like the throne room quite yet, but they're getting there. We had two of them wash out within the last couple of days -- not bad considering half of my contubernium failed to make it to the end. I think the war with Whitetail has singled out those made of harder stuff."

Celestia smiled lightly. "That's good to hear. We could always use more skilled soldiers."

"Considering Stonewall hasn't had me whipped for incompetence I suppose I'm doing alright. It's quite a lot of pressure trying to get them ready for protecting you, but I take it in stride. Who knows? Perhaps one day I'll have Stonewall's job. Then he can finally retire and spend his days complaining in comfort."

"Don't let him hear you say that," she said with a laugh. "You know, I seem to recall you saying that you were starting to grow tired of the military life. Has something changed your mind?"

"Something -- or someone. It's true that I would like to return to a simpler life, but our relationship being what it is I can't see it being realistic at the moment. If there's one thing I've learned in my time in the Praetorian Guard, it's that your life is never simple, even on the slowest of days. If I want to stay with you, then I cannot see any other way than being in Canterlot, and Canterlot means military service." He shrugged. "I suppose that's been the issue since the very start, hasn't it?"

Celestia caressed his cheek as she spoke. "Tercio, I would never want you to abandon your dreams just to be with me. What you want from your life does matter to me, even if it means we can't be together. I love you more than I can say, but I want you to be happy."

"I'm too busy worrying about keeping you and Equestria safe to really worry about such things right now. We'll figure something out after we've tossed the deer back across the border." He gave her one last, lingering kiss before standing back up. "I need to return to my post. We have sparring within the hour followed by preparations for cold weather training up in the mountains. I need to speak with someone from the 7th Barracks and see if they can cover for us while we're gone." With a final check of his equipment he headed for the door. "I might be able to squeeze in some time to drop by later tonight, though I can't make any promises with our regimen being what it is."

"I understand. I'll look forward to it," she said with a tired smile. "Do take care of yourself out there."

Celestia was back to her duties before he even left the room.

Caethil clutched his winter clothing against his chest as a gust of cold air whipped across the rocky shore line. It was the first clear night in nearly a month. Above him, countless stars twinkled in a tapestry of lights, a glittering backdrop for the waning moon. Foam-topped waves crawled up from the Sea of Lights and lapped at his hooves with wet, icy tongues. A chill went down his spine, but not from the cold -- somewhere out there, across the vast expanse, Equestria waited for him.

And he was not alone. Just down the shore, a short walk away, the largest collection of Zevran troop ships ever assembled were being loaded for war. They bobbed gently in the darkness, their totemic prows silhouetted against the horizon like sea serpents waiting for their prey. The calls and responses of zebra officers drifted on the wind and mixed with the roaring wash of the tide. It was strange, even a bit unsettling, that so few voices sounded from so many, but Caethil had come to learn that the zebras were a quiet people when there was a task set before them. They focused on it with absolute intent, offering nary a word until they had completed their duties.

There were thousands of them standing in rigid formation, an army unlike any he had ever seen. The Ambin'aa Korutu -- the Home Guard of Zevran. Split into three tiers, they formed a rough semicircle that started at the shore and ended just before the sickly yellow leaves of the Zevran forests.

The bulk of their number were the Sha'jaal, the standard soldier of Zevran's tribal forces. Gather enough soldiers in one place, and you had the first Kikosa, or war band, seen in Zevran in generations.

With no truly centralized government the soldiers varied in appearance, though most had something resembling a uniform, or the closest thing to it. A short, cylindrical cap and matching brown-and-black striped clothing seemed to be commonplace, with heavier winter wraps made of furs hanging down to just above their knees. Common too were the wood and shell bangles that adorned their forelegs, each carved by the individual soldier with the dramatic faces of their spirit gods for protection and guidance. Fewer in number, though no less impressive, were the dangling necklaces made of leather strips and polished stone beads. These were dotted with trinkets from their homes, given by family and friends as blessings of good fortune.

Traditional face paint completed the look, with fantastic swirls and patterns of white as varied as the soldiers themselves. Zebra forces typically wore little in the way of armor, preferring to rely on agility and quick changes in tactics to overcome more heavily armored forces. Most were armed with tall, oval shields made of the thick hides of forest creatures backed by a strong yet light wooden frame, along with several throwing spears and a shorter, broad-headed thrusting spear.

Notably absent was any form of siege weapon. Life in Zevran was dominated by the dangerous thickets of pronged trees and the creatures found within, and as such they had little reason to develop ranged combat beyond spears or occasional bows. Instead, the zebras were masters of close combat. Caethil thought it a distinct disadvantage to not be able to return an enemy's bombardment, but he was willing to give them a chance -- not that he had any real choice in the matter. In such drastic times, he was willing to get help from wherever he could find it.

As the first warriors walked up the gangplanks to their ships, Caethil looked back at the events that had brought him here. It had been a strange, often frustrating journey.

After arriving in Zevran, he had initially been treated with trepidation and skepticism from most zebras, a rare outsider from a distant land. Only the village chief, a reassuring stallion named Saimsa'wari, was welcoming. When Saimsa'wari left for the nearest major settlement to find one of their 'elders', Caethil was left on his own. Most zebras had never seen a deer, and his size and stature -- nearly two heads taller than the tallest zebra with his antlers -- made some fear him outright. He had spent several days and nights in self-imposed confinement in a grass hut at the edge of the village he would come to know as Dempende Neezuma, the Place of the Fire Moon. Occasional visits by Baer'barisater were his only source of contact with anyone remotely familiar, and in those times he expressed his concern and regret over having come so far for nothing. 'Bear' had assured him that he needn't worry, and that he would soon be able to tell his story freely, but it was not until the arrival of Seer-Shaman Imbele that he truly had the freedom he desired. Imbele, Bear had told him, was the very same whom he had spoken to before his joining the Praetorian Guard in Equestria, the single spark that had brought this strange meeting to fruition.

That night, over a roaring bonfire and bowls of a spicy, earthy stew, Caethil had told the old mystic everything; his time spent in Whitetail, the outbreak of the war with Equestria, the crushing depression of loss after loss. He recounted the first time he'd heard of Elinwynn and her Cervidaen armies marching in from the west to give them aid, and the horrible realization that it was a hostile takeover in all but action. Whitetail had become a puppet state at the mercy of her whims. That was when he'd met with Praxilus and Bear, one leading him to the other.

Then came the terrible loss of his bucks and two of the senators, cut down to the last by Elinwynn's vicious attack dog of a brother, Corvalix. A small crowd had gathered as he recounted his story, enthralled by Bear's running translation, and by the end of it he found himself receiving words of support and prayers of spiritual and mental strength from many of them.

Throughout the retelling the elder had remained respectfully quiet. A quiet unease hung in the air for some time as he considered Caethil's words, with only the crackling fire and chirping night insects breaking the silence. When he spoke, it was a single sentence in rough Equestrian: "We will speak with Mwolan'e."

Now he waited in nervous anticipation for the day when he might stare down the barbaric redtail one last time.

Hoof steps in the stony sand approached him from the direction of the gathered zebras.

"Uungotu mafal'e...bo'ur sisswa ndenge," an old zebra in an opulent headdress said as he hobbled over, a walking stick clutched between his right foreleg and chest. Baer'barisater was at his side, fully covered in the war dressings of his people. He translated in thickly accented Equestrian.

"He says you have the look of a jungle cat stalking its prey."

Caethil gave a short laugh. "I feel more like the hunted than the hunter. I've been on the run for so long that it's hard to remember what it's like to not spend my nights fretting." He bowed courteously. "I was not expecting to see you before our departure, Seer-Shaman. Come to wish me luck like everyone else?"

Imbele answered in the strange, almost poetic language of his people. Golden rings around his neck clicked against each other as he motioned to the army waiting down the beach.

"He does not think you need more well-wishes, for he knows the ancestor spirits watch over you."

"You sound like a Whitetail priest. I've never really been one for ghosts of the long dead; they certainly won't stop a blade from tearing into you."

He waited for Bear's translation and mused that the two peoples might have shared the same beliefs for all intents and purposes. Whitetail may not have built totems and adorned their bodies with fearsome faces, but the idea of looking to the past for guidance was not unique to either species.

"The spirits work in mysterious ways, Caethil. It was them that brought us together, was it not?"

"At this point I'm willing to believe just about anything if it means taking back Whitetail. It was certainly fortuitous that these 'visions' came to you, Seer. Whatever the case may be, I want to thank you for helping me convince Elder Mwolan'e that Zevran cannot stand idly by and wait for Equestria to be overrun. Elinwynn and Corvalix will not stop until they've claimed the entire continent -- of this I'm sure."

"If what you have said time and again is true, then he is more than pleased to help. The memory of those visions has faded somewhat, but he says he will remember the fields of dead for the rest of his days. He will do everything in his power to stop it from coming to fruition."

Imbele dipped his head and began praying to himself. Bear lowered his voice and stepped closer, not wanting to interrupt.

"You must understand, Caethil: it is unprecedented for Zevran to go to war on behalf of someone else."

Caethil nodded. "Mwolan'e said as much. I'm quite aware of their hesitancy to engage in open conflict."

"Perhaps you are, but it is deeper than that. This is not just a journey that will be undertaken by warriors and leaders, but by the very soul of Zevran's consciousness. If we should fail, there will not be a Zevran to come back to. Our people will still be here, our homes will still be here, but the earth beneath our hooves at this very moment will no longer be the Zevran Tribal Lands. It will lead to the second coming of the Dark Times, with or without the redtails' influence."

On some level, Caethil understood. "Then we'd best not fail, my friend."

Seer-Shaman Imbele closed his eyes as he continued to mutter to himself, seemingly lost in thought. When he was finished, he turned back to Caethil and spoke in halting Equestrian, this time without Bear's help.

"We...are of one...spirit." He drew a spiral over his chest with his hoof. "Together...we bring the light...back to the world."

Thousands of voices joined as one as the zebras steadily loaded themselves onto their ships, their unknowable words somber and melodious, a song of longing and remorse that could have belonged to any of the myriad peoples that called these lands home. In that moment, Caethil knew he had made the right choice in following Bear across the harsh hills and thick forests. Zevran, Whitetail, Equestria -- they would fight together, or they would fall together.

"Come, Caethil," Bear said, leading him to the ships where Zevran's most important leaders stood ready. "Our journey has just begun. Equestria awaits."