Avinarius, grant me the strength to defeat my enemies.

Tunic first, checking the padded shoulders for wear. Pteruges skirt and sword belt after that. Straps must be cinched tight to keep the weapon from moving.

Stalwart Shield, grant me the fortitude to defend my brothers.

Hob-nailed marching sandals with winter coverings, essential for the snow and mud. Never quite comfortable, but sturdy and reliable.

Carinae the Embracer, grant me the solicitude to see my family to safety.

Chain mail shirt, manica and leg guards. Worn from use, scarred from battle. Solid as the day they were forged.

Oaken Oath, grant me the resolve to fight with honor.

Heavy but firm, a barrier of steel and iron to blunt an enemy's strike, the lorica segmentata, signature of Equestria's military and symbol of its unwavering dedication, came next.

Clement Heart, grant me the clarity to be merciful.

A cloak of the finest cloth, dyed a deep purple to match the mountains at sunset, adorned with a charging bull in golden thread.

Argo Navis, Aurora...grant me the devotion to safeguard the one I love.

In the cold pre-dawn hours he prepared his equipment, readying himself near a torch burning in its iron wall sconce for warmth. Shadows flickered across the curved rose-stone balustrade of the high balcony and faded into the night to become one with the silence of the city below. Overhead, visible in the gaps between clouds, the haunting visage of Princess Luna stared down at him from the full moon, a reminder of how even the strongest of souls could fall to darkness -- and of how no one was beyond the whims of fate.

A pair of wooden idols clicked together in his hand, stylized representations of the great winged unicorns of centuries past. He had started carrying them after speaking with his parents, and though he did not consider himself to be a particularly devoted follower of the gods, be they old or new, he hoped they would bring him the blessings to make it through the day.

A momentary shuffle of sheets and blankets behind him; Celestia was still sleeping, having given in to exhaustion more than any real desire to rest. She had fretted herself nearly to the point of sickness, forgetting to lower the sun and raise the moon for a time. Messages and updates had come to her door until late in the night, and Tercio had done what he could to comfort her and set her mind at ease. It had been an uphill struggle, resolute though the princess was, for everyone had their breaking point. Eventually she had ordered all messages be kept until morning unless they were of the utmost importance, collapsing onto her bed moments later.

Tercio sipped at a cup of tea, reheated in a small pot over the fireplace. The hot drink steamed in his hands and warmed him against the cold morning air as he leaned against the railing. Canterlot stretched out in a wide circle below him, giving way to the pitch-black valley that would soon be the site of the most important battle in Equestria's history. Somewhere out there, beyond the narrow, high-walled approach waited countless thousands of deer eager to spill blood in the name of their Empress. To them, this was a war of vengeance. They saw the ponies as ruthless monsters who slaughtered women and children, who gladly drove a wedge between the warring deer factions centuries prior; doubly so for the royal lineage, especially Celestia. Captured deer under interrogation were, at best, dismissive of her innocence in such perceived atrocities. At worst, they expressed the desire to drive their blades into her heart themselves.

The Praetorian Guard would make sure that never happened. The full contingent of one hundred and twenty of Equestria's most loyal, well-trained soldiers had been called upon for the day's duties, including the repurposed stallions from the now-defunct Lunar Garrison that had, until this point, served as glorified gate guards after Luna's banishment. Though they were dedicated and proficient to the last, their prior service to Luna before her fall to darkness had left them feeling without a sense of purpose. Many believed that they had failed in their duties so completely that they had resigned their postings, stripping themselves of the Praetorian title to serve out the rest of their tenures among the ranks of the common Equestrian Guard. Those who remained were known for being distant and cold at the best of times.

Now they had a purpose once more, beyond the protection of a single mare many of them considered a living goddess. All of Equestria was at stake, and so they had retaken their pledges -- this time to Celestia. In the final days before the battle was to begin they could be seen trotting the halls with renewed purpose, still proudly wearing their dark blue and purple armor that was now adorned with hoof-carved suns on each pauldron. There were few of them left, only twenty-three in total, but they would be powerful allies, and Tercio was proud to serve alongside them.

As for the others, the stallions of his barracks, he trusted them without question. They had seen him through Hell more than once, from the cultist attack on Canterlot and the assassin's near victory in the crystal cave, to the whitetail ambush that had come dangerously close to carrying him away as some sort of trophy for the deerfolk. He had no doubt that the Praetorians would prosper under Polaris' leadership, despite that particular wound still being fresh enough to sting every time he thought about it.

Celestia stirred once more, turning onto one side before lying still again. How strange, he thought, that fate had brought them together. They could not have been more different, yet her kindness had been the catalyst for so many moments that had come to define his existence. At the very least, he owed her his life twice over.

The unavoidable fact was that he might never see her again after today. The deer army was massive in scale, outnumbering Equestria and her Zevran allies nearly three to one, and if they should happen to break through to the castle grounds...

He shook his head. No, he could not afford to linger on such doubts. He worried every time he went into battle, as did everyone, but keeping that fear clamped down to serve as a motivator was an integral part of training and self-discipline. He wanted to live, not just for her, but for his family, his colleagues; for the very place he'd called home for all of his strange, tumultuous life. But if keeping them safe called for him to die this day...then so be it.

Quietly he sat his cup down, crested helm tucked under his arm, and knelt beside the bed. She was still asleep, thankfully, kept warm under a thick blanket that gently rose and fell with every breath. It would be some time before she woke. Tercio wished he could stay with her, but it was not to be. Not today. He placed his hand upon her shoulder and simply watched her for a few moments, as if to ingrain this moment into his memory down to the smallest detail.

"I give myself -- mind, body and soul -- to serve and honor the royal lineage, that others may live." He spoke softly, reciting part of the Praetorian's oath. If only he'd truly understood what the words meant back in those early days. It was not just another swearing of duty, it was a vow to forego everything he knew and held dear in the name of something greater than himself -- even if it meant never feeling a lover's gentle caress again.

"Be safe, carissima. I am a better man for knowing your embrace. I will see you soon." He gently kissed her cheek, brushing aside a curl of glittering hair, and headed to the door. He closed the door behind him, chancing one last glance. A swell of anger surged through him as he left, born not of the dark magic that had sought to control him before, but of a righteous fury at the deer who would seek to take her from him. He bottled it, contained it within himself, and used it to hone his mind to a razor's edge.

His fingers curled into fists as he marched down the hallway, clenching them until they were red and painful.

If the deer wanted war, then he would bring it to them.

"I never thought this day would come. All of the struggle, the suffering, the death...yet here we are."

Brother-Captain Caethil watched the sun appear between the tall peaks of the Swayback Mountains. Warm sunlight kissed his skin and short coat. Overhead, the sky had become painted with hues of oranges and pinks that colored the clouds like the feathers of a great phoenix. Cold though it may have been, Equestria had an undeniable beauty so unlike that of Whitetail. No better or worse, but simply...different.

The former senator Praxilus walked beside him, his eyes turned skyward. Puffs of foggy breath drifted away in the breeze, and snow crunched underhoof with every step. "It's been a long journey, my friend. A long one indeed. But here we are at last." Praxilus wore the trappings of a simple stag: body wraps of cotton cloth stitched with fibers from the falyniir tree, dyed white and emerald. The clothes of the common people, far removed from the expensive silks of politicians and important deer. "We are blessed by Alyyri'aanis to have this chance."

Caethil frowned disdainfully. "If being blessed means losing every buck under my command then I adamantly deny the favor of the spirits. My life is not worth so much as half a breath of anyone who trusted me with their lives."

"So you say. That zebra friend of yours seems to disagree."

"Baer'barisater believes me chosen for some grandiose 'higher purpose'. I would argue that it was chance and sacrifice, not divine providence, that has brought me here."

"Anything is possible, Caethil. Do you believe it was mere chance that brought us together for the good of Whitetail? We will need strong leaders once this war has ended, good stags who can bring our fractured nation together."

"Then find someone else. I have no interest in being a politician. Let the generals sort out our forces while you and your ilk squabble in the senate."

Praxilus looked away, hiding his discontent. Caethil was a good stag and a strong leader, but his fatalistic attitude had only grown worse since returning from Zevran. He was convinced he would not live through the battle, and had said as much repeatedly. Seeking vengeance against Corvalix was the only thing that drove him forward now, and on long nights he spoke of how he could hardly sleep knowing that the murderous cur was out there, so close and yet so far.

Trails of smoke wafted into the sky from the south. The Whitetail Loyalist liandiir -- no, cohort, he reminded himself, using the Equestrian word for it -- was now awake and in full preparatory mode. A morning meal would be served, followed by a short break for prayer to the ancestor spirits. After that, last-minute training would begin in earnest. Already hammers clanged against anvils as early work began on reforging damaged equipment and repurposing it for the taller, lither frames of his fellow deer. Equestrian steel and iron was sturdy but heavy, and he'd heard complaints from numerous whitetail volunteers that they missed the quinndryll plate of their homeland. Some of the officers had managed to acquire sets of Whitetail armor, albeit modified to distinguish them from the redtail in the heat of battle, but availability was limited to say the least. After all, Equestria hadn't exactly had reason to stockpile deer armor prior to the Cervidaen 'liberation' of Whitetail.

"I haven't had the chance to talk to Eradaxis since yesterday morning, but he seemed confident," Praxilus said in an attempt to bring a more optimistic tone to their conversation, as well as to break the awkward silence. "Has he told you anything about how the bucks are holding up?"

Thankfully, Caethil took the bait. No doubt he was eager to talk about something else as well. "A few words here and there. For the most part he's kept himself busy. He's going to be their commanding officer."

"With your experience I still think you'd be better at it."

Caethil simply shook his head. "Eradaxis knows what he's doing. Let him take charge. I've watched him training the civilian volunteers; he is harsh but fair and is doing a fine job, especially considering the short time he's had to bring them up to something resembling a fighting force. I would expect no less of a Standard-Commander of his prestige. I will fight alongside him, but I will not be giving orders."

"As you say. I'm sure the others will fight harder knowing you are with them."

"They're fighting for Whitetail, not for me. Just as it should be. Eradaxis wants them at the front, visible to all as a symbol of defiance. It is a fine statement to make."

"But...?" Praxilus led on.

"But they are not proper soldiers. Most of them are eager and talented, but they are still civilians with minimal training. We'll keep the experienced bucks and stags at the forefront of the battle line, though if they should fall then we will have a clear weakness for the redtail to exploit. The volunteers, I believe, will serve us best by keeping to the second line and supporting us with throwing spears and arrow volleys. We'll be squeezed between two different Equestrian Guard regiments, and kept on a tight leash. The ponies don't fully trust us, not that I can blame them." Just ahead, in a patch of evergreens, a pair of rabbits darted from tree to tree. One of them stopped, looked at the deer, and scampered off into a winterberry bush. For a brief moment Praxilus could almost picture himself back home, shooing the pests away from his garden, such as it was. He was not gifted with a green hoof, so to speak, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Would it still be there when he returned? Would he even get to return at all?

"I wish I could join you in fighting for our homeland," he said, "but I am no warrior."

"Not everyone is," Caethil replied, his tone the closest to comforting as he was capable of these days. "I do not hide my disdain for politics, nor for politicians, but even I realize that someone has to do it. You're a good buck, Praxilus. We'll need you in the coming months, should we still draw breath after the sun sets. Don't entertain ideas of throwing yourself into the fray when there are plenty who will be doing so." He stopped at the crest of a low hill, watching the ponies frantically rush to and fro in their continuing efforts to fortify the barrier wall. Their resolve was admirable, and they were stalwart combatants; he'd seen as much for himself, narrowly escaping their swords during their initial push into the land surrounding Evinwiir. "I do not know if we will be able to resist the tide of bodies Elinwynn will throw at us. Their numbers are legion, and they are well-trained. We have contingencies in place in the event of such a break-through, but if you still plan on watching from the edge of the city then I suggest you stay in that position. Should the redtail close in around you then I implore you to jump over the side rather than let them take you. It will be far quicker that way. You've seen what Corvalix does to those who defy him."

Praxilus' knees went weak at the very thought of hurling himself to his death. He nodded anyway.

"I, ah...well, what about the zebras?"

"Have you ever seen a zebra in combat? No? Neither have I. None of us have. For all we know they could be the greatest military force the world has ever known. Alternatively, they could be completely ineffective. We won't know until it's too late to turn back."

"For someone who journeyed with one and sailed back on their ships you don't sound too confident."

Caethil turned up a hoof in a shrug. "I am confident that they will do their best. I would be lying if I said I was not impressed by their discipline and professionalism, it's just that they have not been in open warfare for generations. Their little skirmishes with the Griffon Empire ten odd years ago hardly count."

"I recall many in Whitetail saying the same of the ponies. Now look at us."

He gave a snort of amusement. "True enough." Overhead a flight of pegasi were dispelling a section of clouds, taking chunks out of them with firm kicks. Clumps of snow fell in the distance, landing with firm puffs of air, like dozens of pillows being fluffed in succession. The sky was gradually being cleared along the mountain peaks, one of the perks of fighting where the weather obeyed the strange magic of the ponies. It was a small thing, providing the morale-boosting warmth of the sun to your side while denying it to the enemy, but every bit would help. No doubt they could use the clouds for strategic cover as well.

"I imagine you'll be wanting to return to your fellows. We should head back," Praxilus said.

"I suppose we should. They'll be expecting you in Canterlot soon."

With a hoof to his chest he dipped his head, bowing low in admiration. "Thank you again. For saving my life, I mean. It is most unfortunate that we could not save the others, but I know they will lend you their strength in the coming battle, ancestors rest their souls. I wish you nothing but blessings of good fortune, Brother-Commander Caethil."

"And you as well, Senator Praxilus," Caethil responded, returning the gesture. "If you wish to thank me, then I ask only that you tell the people of Whitetail of their sacrifice."

"You can tell them yourself."

The hint of a genuine smile appeared on Caethil's face. "Ever the optimist. We shall see, my friend. It has been an honor knowing you. Saen'ixis dwyyr Wyyttalia." He saluted smartly, then turned and loped away through the ankle-deep snow.

Praxilus watched him leave for a time, until he was no longer visible through the patchy forest. Now by himself, he took a moment to let the cold breeze blow over him. Deep breaths brought in lungfuls of crisp, pine-scented air. It was...peaceful. The ever-encroaching dread of redtail retribution refused to be silenced, but for now, at least, he could pretend the war was already over.

Canterlot. The seat of Celestia's corruption and incompetence. It hung above the valley, clinging to the mountainside like a bloated tick. Its mere presence mocked her from on high, daring her to move against it. Somewhere up there, sitting upon her precious dais, the princess was awaiting her. Celestia was always so confident in her leadership, so self-assured in her righteous authority, so...aggravating in her stubbornness. She had brought this war upon herself, and now she would pay for the lives she'd so unjustifiably taken. And if Elinwynn herself had to serve as the catalyst of change, then so be it.

This wasn't just about her, this was about Cervidae. About Whitetail. About the hundreds of years of callous disregard for the strife and civil wars that had been a direct result of Celestia's lust for power and land.

Today, Empress Elinwynn would finally bring her to justice, and generations of Cervidaen rulers would be avenged.

She stood before the largest formation of soldiers deerkind had ever seen, clad in her sapphire armor inlaid with detail work of polished platinum that glinted in the spotted light of mid-morning. This glory would not belong solely to Corvalix, who stood at her side in his dark green quinndryll armor and phoenix feather headdress. He had served his part in this war with courage and conviction, but even he acknowledged that it had to be the Empress who would take Canterlot in the name of Cervidae. She would have it no other way.

"My people! Sons and daughters of Ochrourus! Today we are here not as mere citizens of Cervidae or Whitetail, but as unified deer!" From her raised platform she spoke to the massed formations that stretched as far as the eye could see, a veritable sea of green that would soon swallow the enemy like a tidal wave. It was a wondrous sight to behold. Behind her whipped thirty-six flags of both nations' greatest cities and strongholds, and held above them all flew the white and green of the Cervidaen Hegemony, its striking colors now joined by wreathed pine branches from the newly liberated Whitetail.

"Today we right one of history's greatest wrongs," she continued, amplifying her voice with a simple spell. Corvalix stood off to her side, a few steps back, flanked by the powerful Imperial Protectorate does. "Many generations ago, our forebears gave in to the worst of their nature, driving our beautiful peoples in twain. Where once the Ochrourus Collective reigned as the dominant power in the known world, now only strife and civil war could be found. Countless lives were lost in the decades of infighting, and countless more would fall in the resulting border wars that have plagued us for so long. We were stubborn and ignorant, all of us.

"It is with great shame that I admit to my family's part in the suffering and neglect. Hundreds of years of empresses sent good bucks and does to their deaths in battles that ultimately accomplished nothing except to further the divide between us, and when things did not go our way we lashed out at those around us. Soldier, farmer, artisan; none were safe from retribution. In truth, Cervidae's history is a dark one, like a moonless night dotted with stars. Brief moments of beauty and clarity against an unending shroud of ignorance.

"Over the years, many have asked one simple question -- why? Why did our peoples, so similar in nearly every regard, suddenly take up arms against one another? Why did our thriving economy and mighty armies come crumbling down like weathered, brittle stone? The theories are as vast as the lands we call home, and I will not bother speaking on them now, for I am sure you have all heard them. Perhaps you hold thoughts of your own on the matter, unsure even of your own motivations for doing so.

"My people...my friends...allow me to put these rampant speculations to rest, once and for all." Elinwynn turned and shot out here foreleg at the distant silhouette of Canterlot, holding it there as the crowd watched in silence. Her jaw trembled and her eyes spoke to disgust and hatred, a measured mask for all to see. Almost immediately there was a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle, nearly imperceptible wave of emotion that spread through the ranks like ripples in a pond. She relished the moment, drank it in with aplomb. She practically had them eating out of her hoof.

"Canterlot, the very heart of Equestria. From within its walls the fates of millions are decided, not by its people, but by the royal dictators who think themselves above the rabble. Their long lives make them callous, for what is a single life, a single city, a single nation to one who watches a thousand years pass on a whim? Make no mistake, people of Ochrourus: the rulers of Equestria care not about us mere mortals. We are but mayflies passing in the night. The blatant disregard for deerkind can be seen in every fortress attacked, every city besieged, every life lost. And to what end? Surely such a nation that prides itself on kindness, tolerance and love would cease to be warlike and territorial!"

Her mouth hooked up in a smirk that faded into a scowl. "If only it were that easy. No, Equestria's royal murderers care not for those things. It is further manipulation brought upon by centuries of experience. In my time as Empress I have spoken with Princess Celestia on numerous occasions. Believe me when I say that she lies as easily as you or I draw breath. It took me a long time to understand fully the extent of her underhoofed ways -- years, in fact. There was always something about her, something wrong, that was difficult to pin down. Every time I spoke with her, I left feeling as though my words and actions were not my own. It is quite ingenious, really, the way she can twist and tug with a few simple words. Her sister, Princess Luna, was like her in many ways, as is to be expected, though she lacked the nuance of her more outwardly regal counterpart. In truth I respected her, for she was not afraid to speak her mind.

"It was inevitable that she would rise up against Celestia. Unfortunately she lacked the courage to do so herself, instead giving in to dark magic that corrupted any potential she might have had. From her madness came the Nightmare Moon cults, those vile, disgusting followers of a false goddess who cared only for themselves. Under my leadership, and despite the warmongering of Celestia, our peoples wiped them out to the last. Once again we had saved this land from itself, and do you think we were offered a single word of gratitude from the mighty princess of Equestria? No! Just as she had watched redtail and whitetail slaughter one another centuries before, she now sat back and let our soldiers suffer the swords and arrows of her sister's doomed worshipers! She used the opportunity to bring further suffering to the besieged and maligned people of Evinwiir! That is her way! That is her legacy! Division, manipulation, wanton destruction!"

She paused, lowering her voice. "Do you want to know 'why'? Then look no further." She allowed the unspoken discontent to catch and grow, like a forest fire that began with a single ember. She cradled it, gave it life. All she had to do now was unleash its full fury and let it burn through everything in its path. "I say to you, people of the united deer nation, that we will not be cast aside any longer! Today we take our pound of flesh! Today we march on Canterlot and force the cruel Princess Celestia to bend the knee before us, and if she will not, then we will drive our blades into her black heart so that none may suffer under her rule ever again! Falaand nir hwixiis Cervidae maar Whyyttalia! Fal'naas par Equestrii!"

"HWAH!" The collective might of thirty thousand voices shouted back at her, sending a shiver of emotion down her spine. She had dreamed of this day for the last thirty years, ever since her mother had imparted upon her the wisdom of half a century of rule. All of Cervidae's troubles had started with Equestria. Now, they would end with it.