The sky carriage rolled to a stop within the safe confines of the castle spire. Celestia immediately stepped out, finding Stonewall waiting for her with a small contingent of guards. The Praetorians of her personal escort followed her, already loading up on extra supplies now that they were expecting to fight within the confines of the city.

"How'd it go?" he asked. The look on her face was all the answer he needed. "That bad, eh? Shame. Not unexpected, but a shame nonetheless. Looks like we're doing this after all." He presented a trio of scrolls from his saddlebag. "These are the latest updates we have on our forces. Everyone is in position, and if those war horns are anything to go by I doubt we'll be waiting long. We'll keep you apprised of the situation as best we can."

It took a moment for her to float the reports to her side. She plucked one from the air and unrolled it, but as soon as she'd brought it up she let out a long breath and dropped it once more.

"Princess? Is something wrong?" Stonewall asked.

"I let her walk all over me," Celestia answered. Disgust twisted her face. "I had every opportunity to toss her wrongdoings back in her face like she deserves, but I didn't. I was too caught up in her words. I could have said so much more!"

"There wasn't much more to be said, Princess, if you ask me," Polaris added as he stuffed an extra supply of medical potions into his bag.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Polaris shrugged. "I don't know what it would have accomplished, to be honest with you. She knows what she's done, and more to the point she knows that you know what she's done -- she made that much clear. Who would you have convinced if you'd listed off every little murderous, underhoofed thing she's done? Her guards? Not likely, I'd say."

The whole conversation had replayed itself in her head, over and over, for the entire flight back. Elinwynn hadn't given an inch, and the scroll of support to the fledgling whitetail independence movement written by her father had taken her by surprise. It had been difficult to come up with a response, and she cursed herself for stumbling through it. Polaris may have ultimately been right -- Elinwynn had never truly entertained the idea of peace -- but it still stung, like someone was slowly pushing a dagger into her chest.

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Stonewall said. "What's done is done. What we need to focus on now is how we're going to keep those prick-headed tree-rutters from getting to the city gates. More immediately, we need to get you to safety and keep you there."

"Are we still securing the main hall?" Tercio asked.

"For now. We've had the balconies sealed off to keep any of those redtail bastards from teleporting up to us. Additionally, the former Lunar Praetorians have stationed themselves outside the main doors, and several of their number have joined with the sky carriage pegasus teams to secure the fallback point." Stonewall raised his voice. "Cirrus!"

"Sir?" Cirrus answered from across the room. The pegasus was removing the yoke from his neck and hanging it on the wall alongside several of his flight mates.

"I want you to meet up with Imperator Stardust at the mountainside armory. Make sure he knows we'll be heading there at the first sign of the castle being compromised. I'm not taking any chances. The rest of you are to keep the sky carriage bay safe; we might need to get out of here in a hurry. Understood?" The other pegasi answered with quick salutes. "Good. I need to get back to the war room before that impatient ass from the Legion starts bitching at me again. Polaris, you know where to find me. The other Praetorian units are awaiting your command just outside the entrance to the garden. Use them as you see fit."

"I will not let you down, General," Polaris said.

"I expect you to keep that promise. Good luck to us all. Keep your prayers with those on the front lines; they're about to be in a whole world of shit."

Brother-General Corvalix stood atop a tall boulder, surrounded by thousands of armed and armored deer. They rushed past him in loping strides, so numerous that the ground itself shook under their collective might. His sword thrust out in the direction of the Auroran Valley where the ponies would be waiting for them, using magic to amplify his voice so that it projected into the confines of the rocky pass.

"Now is your chance to avenge your families and compatriots, my brothers! Remember Everfree! Remember Whitetail Wood! Remember Quillyyn Keep! And above all, remember River Run! Show the damned Equestrians that their barbarous ways are at an end!" He raised up on his hind legs, emerald plate glinting in the dissipating sunlight. "For Whitetail! For Cervidae! Aro'wyyn hwah!"

They continued to stream around him, like water in turbulent rapids, a collective battle shout filling the air as they charged for the Equestrian defensive lines. Soon they would crash into the damnable ponies and scour them from the good earth like a force of nature. It would be glorious to behold.

The whitetail, of course, would be the first to attack, convinced that they had the 'honor' of rushing headlong into prepared positions. Useful idiots. They would serve as fodder until the more capable redtail arrived.

A welling of excitement and pride rose in his chest. All of the plotting, the pain, the political maneuvering -- it was finally paying off. He turned and spotted Elinwynn watching him from her chariot. She placed a hoof to her chest and bowed, a genuine smile evident even from where he stood. They had waited so long. It almost didn't feel real.

All that was left was to join his bucks in battle, and sate his blade with Equestrian blood.

It would be a day to remember for all of history.

Distant war horns rumbled from the pass. Beyond the fortified front line a force unlike any Zevran had ever seen would be approaching, countless thousands of deer eager for battle. Manipulated by their leaders, fed innumerable lies from the very beginning, they were all too willing to throw themselves into the fray.

Waiting for them was a mixed force of Equestrian and Whitetail loyalist forces. Made up of veterans and conscripts alike, it represented the first of the defensive formations Equestria could muster. Though morale was seemingly high -- fighting for one's own home was a motivator like no other -- the fact remained that they were outnumbered nearly three to one, if scouting reports were anything to go by.

Standing alongside them was the mightiest kikosa in Zevran's history, split into three groups that would, in theory, act as a hammer to Equestria's anvil, crushing the deer with flanking maneuvers and leaving them nowhere to run and no time to form into new battle lines. Though their numbers were comparatively small when placed alongside the ponies, they were confident in their ability to make an impact.

"There is a strange beauty to it all, Imbele," Elder M'wolane said. He and a small number of advisers stood atop a small hill overlooking the combined armies, protected by several Nan'Shakaa Warriors and Mowassi Enchanters who were offering ritualistic chants to the spirits in return for their protection. "To see us standing together as one is something I have never dreamed of, yet here we are; twenty-six tribes united in defiance of the warmongering deer. Does it not fill you with inspiration?"

"Inspiration and dread equally, Elder," Imbele said. "It has been a long journey since the spirits showed me the path. I only hope we have interpreted their vision properly; if we should lose this battle Zevran will be next, and there will be no stopping this Elinwynn or her brother."

M'wolane nodded. "Then we will make sure that does not happen."

He drew a spiral over his chest, bowed his head, and prepared himself for what was to come.

A living tide of deer rushed down the narrow pass, weapons out and at the ready, shouting fierce war cries that made their presence known well before they came into view.

At the mouth of the Auroran Valley the ponies waited nervously. The onslaught of ranged firepower would be fierce, but it was only the beginning of the Equestrians' plans. No one expected the line to hold forever, and so the bulk of the military waited further beyond in an area that would provide them with sufficient room to maneuver. The idle reinforcements were of little comfort to those stationed at the fortifications, a scant eight hundred in number. They were to inflict as much damage as possible, then destroy their equipment and get out before the deer broke through in force.

Calls of "weapon ready!" sounded down the line as unit commanders gave final checks to their equipment. The cacophony of Canterlot's impending opening volley grew to a pitch, strained ropes and creaking wood awaiting the moment of release. Thundering hooves approached ever closer, gaining tremendous speed as the first deer crested the shallow rise. Just a little more...

"Loose!"

Forty catapults bucked on their mounts as their heavy projectiles launched into the air, passing over arrow towers and high walls.

The battle for Canterlot -- for the very future of Equestria -- had begun.

Stone balls smashed into the advancing deer, sending sprays of shattered crystal and broken bodies into the air. They thudded off the frozen ground, destroying limbs and crushing bones along the way, while the charging whitetail attempted in vain to avoid them. Sheared-off antler prongs whirled past and bounced off armor plates as the heavy missiles continued unabated.

The ballista bolts came a heartbeat later. Sharpened to a razor's edge and packing the weight of forged steel, they punched through armor and flesh with equal ease. Those not killed outright were often pinned to the ground and struggled uselessly with flailing legs.

Several of the bolts had been enchanted with a far more dangerous version of the ice arrow spell. They made their presence known with glittering trails of frost and eruptions of jagged ice that sent explosions of ruddy, frozen gore in all directions.

A second volley followed shortly after. Dozens more fell to the siege weapons, but the charge was unrelenting. Scorpio bolt-throwers were unleashed next, small but accurate contraptions that could put a precision shot on target at a moderate range. Their effect was felt immediately, with the first three lines of whitetail being cut down in their entirety. Those following behind had to jump over the bodies of the dead or dying. Segmented shields were raised in response, but the thin, flexible plates of quinndryll and iron-bark did little to stop the puncturing rain.

A great toll had been exacted, but the deer were legion. They kept coming, wave after wave, in an unending stampede.

"Keep going! Get to the wall!"

Brother-Sergeant Lindaarys galloped as fast as his legs would carry him. In front of him the bucks of the Whitetail Spearhead ran for their lives, advancing upon the damnable Equestrian position that had already claimed so many of their number. A catapult ball passed by overhead and crunched into the deer following his lead. Their shouts were more than enough reason to stay alert, stay on the move, though such a thing was easier said than done. The narrow pass was the perfect position to force them to stay bunched up, and the high stone walls meant that any catapult shot that might miss would inevitably bounce right back into the group. They were being slaughtered, volley after volley, with no way to return fire.

A young buck a few rows ahead disappeared from sight with a yelp of surprise, the others near him jostling each other to avoid some unseen terror. Then fell another, and another, seemingly random in their distribution. Lindaarys chanced a quick look as he passed by, and his stomach turned with disgust and horror. Spike pits. Anyone unfortunate enough to fall into one faced a drawn-out death.

His anger built to an almost blinding rage, fueled by the burning in his muscles as he rushed onward. A bolt clattered off his side armor, a lucky glancing hit. Then came the first volley of arrows and throwing spears, so numerous in number that they resembled a cloud of insects descending upon the deer. He threw his shield up and dipped his head, praying that he would not be hit. All at once they came down, a vast blanket of jagged-edged iron and wood that stumbled much of the formation. For a moment it was pure chaos; those who had avoided being wounded tripped over the fallen and scrambled to their hooves, giving up precious seconds that allowed another spread of ballista bolts to spearhead their way through more unfortunate souls.

Don't stop, he told himself. The redtail will arrive soon. You just need to make it to cover.

The wall loomed ahead, as tall as four deer and menacing with emplacements. Each whitetail carried a section of a ladder at his side that could quickly be joined with others, allowing access to the fortification -- if they could get there in the first place.

Large boulders crashed down nearby, tipped over from the stone embankments by unicorn magic. He could feel the impacts in his chest, hear the horrific snapping of bones, the resounding 'crack' of rock splitting rock. He ignored them as best he could, already preparing to escape the madness that was unfolding all around him. Nearly there...

With lungs of fire and daggers he threw himself against the wall, bashing his shoulder against the thick, vine-covered wood with a jolt of pain that shot down his body. He'd made it! Others soon joined him, a trickle of survivors that steadily increased in number. They hurled darts and throwing knives to keep the ponies above at bay while they readied their siege ladders. Lindaarys felt his heart beating so hard he was sure it would pound its way out of his chest. His magic faltered several times as he struggled to latch his portion of the ladder to someone else's, a buck he'd never seen before that had suffered an arrow through his shoulder. The haft stuck out at an angle, and the young soldier gritted his teeth every time he moved.

"Quickly, join it together!" he said, getting a 'click' of metal on metal. Two more whitetail added their segments, and before long it was nearly tall enough to reach the top of the wall. Only a few more to go, and then he could begin exacting his vengeance.

Something brushed against his haunches, then his neck, rough and prickly. Thinking it an insect, he swatted at it and continued on. There was no time for such trivial things.

Now something wrapped around his right hind leg. Unable to ignore it any longer, he looked down in puzzlement at the tendril of leafy vine that was constricting itself against him. It had small, broad leaves that faded from a dark green to a gradual, deep red, and large, closed flowers, like a bell, roughly the size of his hoof. He followed the vine up, seeing that it covered much of the wall. The entire mass of it quivered and shook as it reached out for the deer, grabbing onto them by the hoof-full. Most paid it no mind, and those who did notice simply batted it away.

Lindaarys attempted to yank free of its grip, but doing so caused a gash to appear on his leg. Immediately he was set upon by another vine, then another, until he had been wrapped up like a spider's prey. He yelled in panic and slashed at the plant with his sword, yet every one that he severed was soon replaced by another. They latched onto his sword and threatened to tug it away. He could hear others screaming, pleading for help as they joined in his fate.

A blood-red flower snaked up his chest and stopped just beyond his muzzle. Its petals parted all at once, like a spring trap, revealing a trio of long, hollow thorns with barbed tips that stuck out from the center, more like the fangs of a serpent than a plant. It seemed to almost watch him for a moment, bobbing up and down on its thick length of vine. The flower gave a stuttering hiss, then plunged itself into his neck.

He thrashed and struggled for a time, jerking as more thorns joined in draining him of his blood. Soon he was too tired to resist anymore, and the light faded from his vision until there was only the embrace of never-ending darkness.

Milites Spring Sparrow cringed at the sound of the deer screaming in terror below. Arrows and pila were one thing, but this...

The stallions at his side scarcely showed any reaction as they loaded another bolt into the scorpio and cranked the charging handles. Bringing in the predatory vines from the Everfree forest had been Decanus Signifier Hearthwright's idea, a dangerous task that had fortunately been accomplished without losing anyone. Known as Sanguis Blossoms, they had been carefully monitored and allowed to grow over the front of the defensive wall. Most had doubted the effectiveness of a plant, no matter how frightening it might sound in theory, but even the most ardent of disbelievers would be hard-pressed to question their effectiveness now.

The scorpio turret kicked as its guiding string slammed forward, propelling the bolt like a shot of lightning and piercing straight through the chest armor of a buck that had just scrambled out of the way of a spike pit. He dropped to the ground hard, skidding for a short distance before lying still. Spring Sparrow hoped the deer's suffering was short-lived.

All along the wall more than thirty of the weapons were firing as fast as they could be loaded. Had he not been scared out his mind, Spring Sparrow thought darkly, he would have likely been sick on the spot. He had never wanted to be a soldier, and certainly never wanted to kill anyone, but like most stallions on the wall he was a conscript who had no say in the matter. Seeing it now for himself, there could be no doubt: the deer meant to take Canterlot, regardless of how many died in the process. Fight, or die; there was no other option.

Roaring flames burst up from below with coiling wisps of green-black smoke, each one accompanied by shrill shrieks and distorted hisses. The vines had been dealt with -- though judging by the deep screams and acrid smell of burning flesh, the deer had decided it worth the cost of those caught up in the predatory abominations.

"Left side, siege ladders!" someone shouted above the noise. A trio of metal-topped ladders clanked into place, finding awkward purchase on the wall. The scorpio turned on its mount, aimed, and fired. The shot fell short and ricocheted off the battlements, but the offending deer had no more than revealed their heads before half a dozen bolts tore through the air, gashing open the closest whitetail's neck and thwacking into the ladders with sprays of splintered wood. Pila finished off those who had not been killed outright, and the ladders were kicked off the wall.

More took their place, the unflinching advance showing no signs of retreating. Within minutes there were so many ladders that it was impossible to keep up with them all. A small number of deer had managed to reach the top and were engaging the defenders in melee; the thudding sound of reinforcements climbing up to join the fight was almost deafening. Spring Sparrow gulped. There were so many!

"Scorpio crews, to the battlements!" an officer ordered with his augmented voice. All at once the ranged weapons were abandoned, their ropes severed and mechanisms bashed with swords, war axes and heavy maces. "Hurry it up! We need you up there right fucking now!"

Spring Sparrow shakily donned his blue-crested helm and drew his weapon, clutching it between his chattering teeth so hard he was sure they would crack at any moment. A whitetail buck clambered over the top not five yards from his position, a long, menacing sword of green crystal floating before him. He made eye contact with Spring Sparrow and shouted something in deertongue. Spring Sparrow panicked and backed away, stumbling over himself. The stallions nearest him, all fellow earth ponies, charged the deer in return with a combined war cry. The deer lashed out at the nearest one, then kicked at a second with his knee-blades. Neither attack was effective, and he gave a pained gurgle as a mace slammed into his chest with a spray of crystal flakes, caving it in like a roll of bread that had been stomped on. Two more strikes cracked into his ribs and crushed the entire side of his head with a sickening trickle of shattered bone and gore. The pony who landed the killing blow spat on the deer's corpse, then bucked it over the wall.

"Get up here and fight, gods damnit!" he yelled at Spring Sparrow, blood dripping down the weapon's handle and staining his teeth red. When he didn't move, the big pony came over and yanked him to his hooves, then roughly shoved him over to the line.

Hundreds of Equestrian Guard soldiers were now fighting against an ever-increasing surge of whitetail. A commander in the crimson red of the Legion ran up and down the defensive line. "Hold them, lads! Give no mercy, for you shall receive none! Make them pay for every inch! Hah-ooh!"

"HAH-OOH!" the ponies responded in kind, collectively shoving their way forward in an attempt to reach the ladders. More catapult and ballista missiles snapped by overhead as Spring Sparrow stood shoulder to shoulder with the others. He could hardly see over the heads in front of him even when he craned his neck to get some idea of how they were holding. The stallion immediately ahead of him suddenly fell, clutching at a long, metallic dart that had punctured the thin armor around his neck. A stream of blood spurted with his beating heart, and he was dragged back by a pair of unicorns who set about trying to save him.

Spring Sparrow suddenly found himself at the front of the line. He frantically looked around for anything with antlers and jerked back in reflex as a throwing dagger clipped the parapet to his side. A wave of deer clambered up before him, so close that he could see the etchings in their armor.

"As one!"

He ducked behind his shield, pushed his way forward, and struck at the enemy.

Far behind the desperate battle, Elinwynn stood with her eyes closed behind a line of personal guards. Though she could not see the fight with her own eyes, distant as it was, she could feel its presence. Magical currents ebbed and flowed as deer and pony alike used their prowess to great effect. It was a strange thing, tangible yet formless, a swirling mass of arcane energy that told the tale of Cervidae's inevitable victory. At times she could almost reach out and touch it; the bright motes of deer magic, sharp and pronounced, more raw and primal than the more subtle magic of the ponies, the surging flashes from their unicorn elite like a beacon in the night against a sea of barely perceptible earth ponies and pegasi. To the mind's eye they appeared as a shapeless, fog-like cloud in their masses. Those who fell simply faded from the greater whole.

"Incompetent, the lot of them," she said, opening her eyes to the blustery world around her. Row upon row of redtail stood at the ready, unmoving and silent.

"The whitetail are nothing if not persistent," Corvalix quipped. He stood at her side, the phoenix feathers of his elegant headdress blowing in the wind. "It does not take the gift of farsight to know they are losing. Open your ears, dear sister, and hear the sound of Cerviae's growing influence."

"Among other things." A particularly horrific scream echoed down the canyon. For the briefest of moments she almost felt a twinge of sympathy...almost. "It is no wonder our whitetail kin were so easily defeated. Their tactics have become somewhat lacking, wouldn't you say?"

"What they lack in prowess they more than make up for in enthusiasm," he said with a smirk. "I do believe enough time has passed that they should be mixed up in personal combat with the ponies. What say you, Empress? Shall we make our presence known?"

Elinwynn surveyed the deer around her, seemingly endless in number. These were not the bedraggled remnants of a once proud nation, mere bodies to be thrown into the fray. No, these were true soldiers, the likes of which Equestria was entirely unprepared for. They may have had their pyrrhic act of defiance at Quillyyn Keep, but nothing could prepare them for the coming storm.

Let them make their stand. Let them bring in the entirety of the the zebra nation if they so chose! The end result would be the same, and once Celestia's inept defenses were trodden under hoof and its people thoroughly defeated, she would stand atop the ruins of Canterlot and plant her flag in the name of her mother, her lineage, and all who called themselves redtail.

Just as it should be.