Elinwynn had known what her brother's request would be long before the messenger reached her. The ebb and flow of magic told the story of desperate combat on both sides, a barely contained melee that wildly swung from one army to the other, with momentary victories being negated just as quickly as they were won. Progress had been rapid after the wall fell, at least for a short time, but now it was taking far too long to make insignificant gains. Time was of the essence; every moment her forces were stuck in a quagmire of their own making was another moment for Celestia to find some way to turn the odds to her favor.

The bright motes of Corvalix's detachment of Imperial Protectorate does flared in her mind's eye, short and intense like a lightning strike, before fading once more. It was a process that had been repeated numerous times before, and like all the other times their life forces winked out in small numbers. She tutted in annoyance. Corvalix was far too dependent on their prowess, having pushed them to the edge of exhaustion as a substitute for his own battle plans falling apart after the mass teleportation ambush had failed to crack the Equestrian lines open. He was stalled partway up the Coriander Road now, beset on all sides and under the threat of bombardment by those damned catapults the ponies so loved.

The soldier that came to a halt before her saluted, taking a moment to catch his breath. Lines of blood stained his armor and weapon, some still glistening and wet, and though his body was tired he still carried himself as a leader should. She noted a pair of prongs had been severed part way up, the clean cuts indicating a skilled opponent had nearly gotten the best of him -- nearly.

"Hail to you, my most glorious Empress," he said after regaining his composure. The rank marks on his armor denoted him as a Brother-Sergeant of the Exemplars. Little wonder that he had survived this long, then. "I bring word from Brother-General Corvalix. He says it is 'time for you to make yourself known.' He did not clarify further, I'm afraid."

"I see," Elinwynn said evenly. "How utterly unsurprising."

"My Empress?"

"No need to concern yourself, Brother-Sergeant. Your message has been received. You may return to the front at your earliest convenience, but before you do I would ask that you take as many flasks as you can comfortably carry on your person. We cannot have our injured battling their thirst as well as their wounds, now can we? If you should arrive before myself, tell my dear brother I am on my way."

"As you wish, my Empress. Victory shall be upon us this day."

"So it shall."

The Exemplar saluted once more and promptly left for a supply tent. She nodded for the waiting guards to let him pass, then turned to the pair of does behind her who waited in silence. Aalyndria and Athil'loren, her most trusted magii. Their swept back antlers glowed with innate power, slowly pulsing with a green-white aura. Dressed from muzzle to tail in deep blue quinn-plate they waited on her word.

"It would seem we are at the crossroads of history, my most loyal of friends," Elinwynn said. A genuine smile spread across her features in a mixture of excitement and cunning. "My beloved brother appears to have encountered some rather fierce resistance, and though he has not yet given ground he is finding it difficult to gain any in return. I believe he is expecting us to pull his well-worn nethers from the fire. Shall we oblige him?"

"'Well-worn' is putting it lightly, Empress. Knowing your brother, he would sooner fall on his blade than lose that particular bit of his bravado." Aalyndria smirked at the thought. Few could speak on such casual terms to the highest authority in Cervidae -- and soon the entirety of the known world -- and fewer still could keep their heads afterward. The middle-aged twins were fortunate in more ways than one, a fact they were very much aware of.

"Perhaps it would be for the best if he did," Athil'loren added.

"It would certainly calm him down a bit if he was forced to think with his brain instead of his cock half the time."

"He is rather adept with it, at the very least. Wouldn't you agree, sister?"

"I'm beginning to think it might be the only thing he's good with." Aalyndria snorted in amusement. "No offense to the great Brother-General of course, my Empress."

Elinwynn laughed quietly as she inspected her weapons once more. "You are hardly wrong. I swear to the ancestors he's bedded half of deerkind by now. It's a wonder it hasn't fallen off." Her cross-hilted sword and long lance were in perfect condition, cleared of even the slightest scratches by the armorers the night before. How good it would be to feel them effortlessly slide into the hearts of her enemies as if they were not even there. "But let us not concern ourselves with Corvalix's hobbies, hmm? We have more pressing matters to attend to."

"You need simply give the word," Athil'loren said.

"Very good. Athil'loren, I would like you to gather the remainder of the Protectorate to my side. I imagine there shall be less of them now, but such is the cost of war. Make sure they bring their pouches along, too."

"As you wish."

"Aalyndria, you are to choose a small detachment of bucks from the Exemplar reserves. Try to make them..." she searched for the word, "disposable. Supply runners, second line reinforcements -- that sort of thing. We will need a screening force in case the ponies try something untoward."

Aalyndria raised an eyebrow. "Never one to sweeten words, were you?"

"I like to think pragmatism is one of my strong points," Elinwynn answered with an upturned hoof.

"Alright then, you'll have your throwaways. I'll be sure to leave that bit out when I grab them. Anything else?"

"That shall be all for now. Do make haste, my friends, for we depart as soon as we are ready. Let us save Corvalix from the vile Equestrians so that we may move on to more important matters."

The gate slammed shut behind them, reverberating across the valley. As the guards barred the entrance Caethil and the others stopped to rest for a short time, leaning against the fortified towers or simply falling to the ground in exhaustion. Mwolan'e's personal bodyguards showed not even the slightest bit of weariness, remaining on their hooves with their eyes constantly searching for any new threats. Mwolan'e gave a wheezing laugh and pulled himself up against the leg of a watch tower.

"To be young again," he said to no one in particular.

"Isn't that the damned truth?" Eradaxis agreed. He reached for a water skin at his side and popped the cork, greedily gulping down mouthfuls before passing it to the others. It gave him time to take in his surroundings; the ponies had begrudgingly let them in once Mwolan'e had identified himself, though they still watched both himself and Caethil closely. It was difficult to blame them for being paranoid about a couple of deer being let into the city. Beyond the heavy gate, down a winding road blocked by row after row of defenses, Canterlot stretched out into the distance in a tiered layout, with entire portions hanging over the edge of the mountain in a display of daring, breathtaking architecture. Waterfalls and hanging gardens caught the eye and carried it along the length and breadth of the vast capital, with colorful buildings and gold-striped spires that were so different from the marble and crystal of Evinwiir, more grand even than the blustery sprawl of Marestopholous. And yet its streets were completely barren, save for the masses of gold and steel-clad soldiers who stared back at him with distrusting eyes. They lined the roads and waited on rooftops while flying ponies darted to and fro with streaks of color trailing behind them.

He could only imagine what the city must have looked like in peace time. He pictured thousands of rainbow-hued Equestrians going about their lives, content with the way things had always been. Now they were huddled in their masses in dark, musty caves waiting for the end of their civilization to come.

His kind had brought ruination to a people that had only wanted peace. There would be no going back to the old ways for the deer after today, one way or another. Perhaps that was for the best.

"Are you all right?" Caethil asked as he passed the water back. Eradaxis put the stopper back in and returned it to his side pouch.

"I should be the one asking you," he answered.

Caethil leaned back against the rough post and shrugged indifferently. "I'm alive," he said simply. "You're right: I need to focus on staying that way. I will not let myself fall so long as my battle brothers go unavenged."

"So you say."

A wounded Imbele wrapped a bandage around his left hind leg. Somewhere along the way he had caught a dart that thankfully missed doing any damage beyond a flesh wound. He brightened as the wounded Watcher hobbled through the gate, still clutching his feathered spear. The others quickly went over to help him.

"I must ask: where do we go now?"

"I'm afraid I hadn't given it much thought. Too busy running for my life," Eradaxis said. "Elder Mwolan'e, you're the only one who's spent any significant time here. What do you think?"

Mwolan'e lifted his hoof in a shrug. "The most obvious choice would be to find Princess Celestia and stay at her side."

"I doubt they'll let us within a thousand paces of her position," Caethil said. "Friends or not, we must face facts and accept that none of us are important enough to be let through the army of soldiers between her and us. Likely that includes you, Elder."

"Be that as it may," Eradaxis interjected, "sitting here on our haunches is not going to solve anything." He lifted himself up and brushed the dirt from his armor. "Good bucks and stallions are dying as we speak, and every moment that passes is another life added to the toll. I do not intend to let their sacrifices mean nothing."

Mwolan'e frowned. "None of us wish such a thing, but what are we to do? Imbele and I are not warriors. Perhaps many years ago, but now..."

"I understand. In all due honesty, it may be best to simply wait here and hope the battle is over soon."

"There are worse places to be than surrounded by trained allies," Imbele said, scratching his chin stubble. The effects of the stone skin potion were almost entirely gone from his body now, with the dark, patchy remainders of magical armor slowly fading to the striped pattern of his coat.

"Indeed so. I will speak with whomever is in charge of this position before I depart, and make it clear to them that you are to be protected as they would the princess herself."

Caethil cocked his head. "What do you mean, 'before you depart'? Is there something I should be aware of?"

"My place is with my bucks. I do them no good standing here for even the slightest of moments. I will find a pair of pegasus ponies to return me to the battle."

"Then I am going with you," Caethil insisted, stepping forward so that he was directly before Eradaxis.

"No, you need to stay here."

"Absolutely not! If you think for even--"

"Listen. Though I trust the Equestrians implicitly, Mwolan'e and Imbele will need someone at their side they can rely upon. Someone who can be a mediator between themselves as the ponies, if need be. They trust you, and for good reason."

Caethil was quiet for a moment, wishing he could come up with a retort that would change Eradaxis' mind. The realization of the meaning behind the Standard-Commander's 'order' struck him like a sword through the heart. "You do not trust me to lead others in combat," he said accusingly, far more of a statement than a question.

"I trust you to lead others, my friend, but not yourself. You are a strong fighter and an adept officer; that much is clear. However, your apparent eagerness to throw your life away is a liability that we cannot afford. I'm sorry. It would be best for everyone if you stay and protect the zebras. I am sure they will be grateful to have someone they know at--"

"You do not get to give me orders, Eradaxis!" Caethil stomped a hoof hard enough to send the knee-blade of his patchwork armor out. It clicked into place as he came practically nose to nose with the taller stag. "As a Brother-Captain of the Evinwiir Guard I am above the likes of a damned honorific such as yourself! What right do you have to order me around?" He waited for an reply, but the silence was infuriating. "Answer me!"

"Whitetail is gone, Caethil. There is no more Evinwiir. Not as we knew it." The pain in Eradaxis' voice was evident. "You know this just as well as I. Rank means nothing now. All that matters is that we survive, and that our bucks survive, so that we may see our nation freed of the chains the damned redtail have bound it with. Your actions have shown me that you are not willing to hold that commitment above all else. I'm sorry."

Eradaxis saluted one last time, then turned and departed for the closest group of guards. "Prove me wrong, Brother-Captain."

"Third and fifth centuria, push right!" a senior officer shouted, running alongside the formation with a red and gold flag flying from a saddle mount. A signal horn sounded thrice from the stallion beside him so that none would miss his commands. Hundreds of Legion soldiers from three separate cohorts shouted in acknowledgement, turning as one and advancing with shields up. In their wake they left dozens of dead or dying ponies where they lay, an unfortunate fate that had befallen countless others all along the Equestrian front. It had been a bloody slaughter on both sides, but the line still held.

Victus gritted his red-stained teeth and kept pace with those around him. Like many of his brothers he had been wounded in the fierce melee with the deer. A gash in his shoulder and a weeping stab wound in his foreleg caused burning pain with every step he took, while a too-close arrow had narrowly missed removing his eye. The long cut from his temple down to his cheek had turned his white coat a grisly pink and red. For the time being it remained untreated, a merely superficial wound that was painful but would not slow him. Many others were not so lucky; Windshear and Krastus had both suffered debilitating slashes to the backs of their legs, forcing them to hobble along with one hoof tucked against their sides. Thundershield had lost an ear and was likely blinded in one eye in addition to having part of his right wing severed. Iron Forge, Centavian, Autumn Harvest, Olive Palette -- the list went on and on, and even that was only counting the ponies he personally knew. The remaining Legion formations were a hodgepodge of various cohorts consolidated out of necessity and merged with less experienced reinforcements from the Equestrian Guard. For the time being, at least, it was enough.

A counter-charge came as they were reforming, bringing a mass of unorganized deer in ill-fitting armor. Conscripts from Whitetail, young and inexperienced. The redtail had a fondness for throwing their submissive cousins into the fray to act as meat shields. They posed little threat to the veteran Legion troops, and within minutes they were cut down. The survivors turned and fled, disappearing into the greater Cervidaen army that refused to give an inch of ground.

"Victus!" someone shouted above the swelling of battle. "Victus, over here!"

He turned to see Milites Sicarius waving for his attention. The young soldier pointed to the east, near the tree line that the rear attack had come from. That attack had forced the Equestrians back, but a concerted effort with the Zevrans had allowed them to regain lost ground.

Victus galloped as fast as he could and came to a stop at Sicarius' side. "What is it, Milites?"

"It's her! The deer leader! I saw her!" Sicarius said excitedly.

"The Empress? Are you sure?" Victus craned his neck, scanning the edge of the pine copse. If there was another flanking attack coming...

"I'd know that armor anywhere. She had a squad of those magii with her and several bucks, though I'm not sure of exactly how many. It was a momentary glimpse, but I swear it to be true. This could be our chance to put a stop to this!"

The pain that plagued Victus and his tired body was suddenly gone. Elinwynn could be trying to sneak around the fighting; for what purpose he was not sure, but nothing good could possibly come from it.

"Well spotted, Sicarius." He clapped a hoof against his shoulder. "Rejoin the others, I will relay this to the Legatus."

Sicarius nodded and returned to his unit as Victus took flight with a strong flap of his wings. He skimmed just above the surface, avoiding broken bodies and spear shafts that stuck out of the frozen, bloodied ground like spines on an urchin, searching for the two-toned horizontal crest of the Legion commander. The previously orderly rear lines were in a state of disarray after the massed teleportation attack. Supply runners hurriedly carried medical potions, bundles of pila, and all manner of things to unit commanders at the front, while non-stop teams of pegasi ferried vulnerable apothecaries and injured soldiers to the safety of the city rim far above. Only a small number of healers remained on the ground to treat the most seriously wounded that might not survive the trip.

Finally he spotted the unicorn he was looking for, surrounded by lesser officers in red cloaks. Victus skidded to a stop, nearly stumbling over himself in the rush to bring such important information. Numerous swords were pointed in his direction as the officers stepped back in surprise. Legatus Kyrus eased them down once Victus saluted.

"What is it, Decanus?" the old stallion asked. "You'd better have a damn good reason for interrupting."

"Apologies, sir, but I bring urgent news. Milites Sicarius of the 44th Legion claims he's spotted Empress Elinwynn herself, near the forest."

The others snapped their attention to him as soon as the words left his mouth.

"He's sure of this?" There was a murmur of excitement before Kyrus quieted them down.

"Yes, sir. He says the empress was with several does and an unknown contingent of bucks, likely from the Exemplars if I had to guess."

"How in the nine hells did she manage to get past us?"

"I could only speculate, sir, but given the doe magii were powerful enough to move several hundred deer into the forest unseen--"

"Right, I get the point," Kyrus said. He pointed to several of the officers in turn. "Corbecsus, Spindle Oak, and Timberspite: I want you to grab as many Legionaries as you can without weakening the front. Form up and push into the forest, and do it quickly! This might be our only chance to catch the royal bitch without an entire army at her back."

"Sir!" they answered together.

"Well done, Decanus Victus. And well done to Milites Sicarius. We may just owe him a promotion or two once this is over." Kyrus saluted, his armor marred by blade cuts and spotted with blood. "Let's go cut the head off the snake! Hah-ooh!"