The realm of the damned had come to Canterlot, a towering inferno of bright greenflames and swirling, desiccated bodies that descended upon the city's gates in the cold blackness of premature night. It roiled and thrashed like an agonized beast, leaving burning trails of viscous fluid that whipped in the fierce winds. The very same creation of the collective efforts of hundreds of pegasi, and Equestria's final effort to throw the deer back from whence they came, was now tearing apart the last line of defense between the waiting deer armies and the crown jewel of ponykind. Panicked soldiers galloped away as fast as their legs could carry them, fighting against the unbearably hot gale that pulled one after another to a screaming demise. The fortified ramparts and battlements of Canterlot's twin gates, once thought indestructible by all but the most persistent siege, were melted as easily as copper thrust into a blacksmith's forge while stone blocks were charred black and ripped from the high wall.

Mwolan'e ran for his life. Imbele and Caethil followed while helping the wounded Zingeli Watcher who struggled to hobble along on three legs, practically being carried by the others. Together they rushed through the city streets, though they did not know to where. It was almost impossibly dark out, making navigation through the crowded streets a desperate affair lit only by the eerie, almost ethereal light of the out of control storm and the occasional torch. Equestrian soldiers passed by in groups, some without any weapons or shields. A unicorn stallion with a burning mane and tail fell to the ground with a tortured scream. He was quickly set upon by several others who hurriedly poured water over him and stomped out the flames, dragging him away to momentary safety around the corner and out of view.

Pulling away far enough to be out of the worst of the scorching wind, Mwolan'e could now hear Imbele speaking prayers of safety and deliverance to the spirits. What had they done for Zevran this day? he thought bitterly. It made him ashamed to believe such a thing, yet the loss of so many lives, both zebra and otherwise, was a weight that he found almost unbearable. It was not the spirits that would decide his fate, but his own will to live.

And so he ran, ignoring his many pains, with the others keeping pace at his side. A heavy chunk of masonry smashed into a shop not fifty paces from him, spraying the area with broken pottery and splinters of wood. Small fires burned on its surface. He did not wait to see if they would spread.

"Turn left up ahead!" he shouted over his shoulder. Brief glimpses of building signs or distinct silhouettes called to mind his previous visits during peace time, and though he could not claim to know the area as well as a local he had enough of an idea about where he was to hopefully guide them to temporary shelter. The castle was likely to be shut off from the outside world, even for himself, a harsh but understandable security measure. Heading west would bring them to the wealthy rim of the city, while east was the trade district eventually leading to nothing but sheer walls of rock. The only place to go, then, was north, to the military heart of Canterlot. If any place in the city was going to be safe, he hoped, it would be there.

Praxilus was transfixed by horror and awe. The maelstrom before him was beautiful and terrible to behold as it carved a path through the city, roaring as if it were yet another living thing twisted by the redtail for their destructive purposes. Entire homes and shops were reduced to molten slag, while any pony or deer unfortunate enough to be pulled in seemed to simply cease to exist. Whatever desperate plans the Equestrians had seen fit for the whirlwind had surely been dashed by the mad empress and her brother.

"Get back! Forget the damn catapults!" the senior officer ordered from behind, guiding the stampede of escaping soldiers past him, emphasized by a sudden and resounding cracking of stone under his hooves. Portions of the overhanging rim were losing their strength, and the entire section Praxilus stood on rattled and shuddered. He hurried to follow the rest of his catapult team, caring not that they had left without a word in his direction, using the light of scattered torches and the ever-present emerald glow of the firestorm to guide his way in the darkness. "Hurry it up, whitetail! Move like you give a damn about something!" The ground quaked hard enough to send him to his knees. Bits of burning rubble and shattered stone rained down around him while he scrabbled to stand upright once more, and he looked up to see several ponies yelling for him to run. He swore in deertongue at the absurdity of it; did they not think he was trying to do just that? Their silhouettes fled just as he got back to his hooves, and only then did he realize why they had been urging him so.

A chunk of solid stone, nearly as large as an entire watch tower, came tumbling out of the night sky trailing smoke and flame. It smashed into the overhang with a deafening thud, hard enough to cause the whole area to wobble visibly, and sent a shower of boulders and debris his way. Praxilus hurriedly willed a barrier into being, but his knowledge of the spell was limited and served only to stop the smaller pieces from reaching him. A pair of jagged stones larger than his head tumbled end over end with alarming speed, forcing him to throw himself to the ground to avoid being crushed . One safely passed by, but the other caught the tips of his antlers and sent him rolling back to slam into a low wall. Dazed and bleeding, he pushed himself up to one knee. The world seemed to be spinning and blurring around him while one thought pervaded his weary mind: escape. No one was coming back for him, either because they thought him dead, or simply because they did not care what happened to just another damned deer.

The ground jolted and dropped several inches, instilling an unspeakable sense of panic and dread within him. He had to get away, and fast. Forcing himself to focus despite his aching head and pained body, he sent his thoughts to the safety of untouched buildings far down the road. He could see them, just barely, as thatched roofs and squared-off walls. He imagined the cold stone path under his hooves, the heat of the wind blowing from the east, and felt himself standing there. It would take but a second for the teleportation to work, if only he could--

The platform shook violently, breaking his concentration so suddenly that the magical backlash burst from his now partially broken antlers in a shock of ethereal lightning that dissipated into the air. His pounding head felt like it had been crushed between a pair of anvils, and as he yelled out in pain the entirety of the area split away in a rumble of crumbling earth and stone, buckling under its own weight. Praxilus reached out desperately for the edge, as though he could pull himself to safety if he only wanted it enough. Canterlot's southern platform, the defensive heart of the city, fell away in mere seconds, taking homes, shops and countless soldiers with it.

Unseen by those he had hoped to call his allies, nothing but a speck against the premature night, Praxilus tumbled into the darkness.

Her plan had failed, and failed miserably. What was supposed to be a decisive strike against the deer had turned into a complete route for the defenders of Canterlot. The combined efforts of hundreds of pegasi, a whirlwind that would appear from darkest night to sweep the deer back into the valley below, was now destroying all in its path. It appeared as a grotesquely colorful thing through the stained glass windows of the castle's main entrance, flickering with lightning and flaring as it consumed more fuel to prolong its unstable vortex. Outside, beyond the tall gates of the main grounds, teams of unicorns struggled to counteract the redtails' magic and shove the storm away. More brave pegasi, some still suffering from painful and disfiguring burns, spun around the storm as close as they dared in the hopes of dispelling it.
Princess Celestia turned away from the terrible scene, turned away so that her soldiers would not see the tears that ran down her face. Now they would be forced to fight without the light of day, for lowering the sun so quickly had drained her to the point of exhaustion. She wanted to lie down and sleep, to pretend that the entire war had been a nightmare she could wake herself from.

"Princess?" A familiar voice asked. Celestia wiped her eyes and forced herself to keep a regal bearing, if only to show that she could.

"Yes, Imperator-General?" Her voice was unsteady, and she knew it to be so, but Stonewall was too much of a gentlestallion, gruff though he might have been at times, to bring up such a thing.

"I bring word of new developments. The senior leadership believes this position will not be sustainable given the current state of the battle, especially with the whirlwind still burning through much of the southern reach. We're confident we can stop it from advancing further, but it will take several more moments before we're rid of it completely. That will give the deer plenty of time to flood in behind it."

"What of our forces?" she asked, concern dripping from every word.

"Scattered, as you might expect," Stonewall said. Even for one as confident as the old earth pony before her, she could see the struggle within his eyes. He had a habit of tapping his front left hoof when he was nervous, a tic she'd picked up on many years ago but never mentioned to him. It clicked against the tile as he spoke. "We're doing our best to reform into coherent battle lines, but between the breaking of the valley front and the firestorm we're unable to put up a stalwart defense except in pockets spread throughout the city. We need to face facts and accept that the castle is too large to adequately defend from the full might of the deer under the changed circumstances. Too many entrances, not enough escape routes. To that end, we believe the best course of action is to retreat further north to the armory. It's fortified and can only be accessed by the deer from one direction, and the streets narrow into a path we can easily force them onto. Their numbers won't matter quite so much at that point, and that's where we're strongest. There is also a hidden sky wagon launching ramp we can use to get you out of the city, should such a thing prove--"

"I will not run," Celestia retorted, more harshly than she'd intended.

Stonewall breathed in deeply. It was plain to see that he was not fond of her stubbornness that had taken root since her meeting with Elinwynn. "With all due respect, we can't risk losing you, Princess," he said calmly. "If nothing else, you can outrun and outlive any threat that might preside over Equestria for decades, centuries even, until the time is right to reclaim it. I know such a thought is not easy to consider, but..." He cleared his throat to break the resulting silence. "We'll handle these things as they come. For now, we await your order. Give the word and we'll make haste to the north."

Celestia considered her choices carefully, feeling the weight of thousands of lives bearing down on her. She felt almost detached from the reality of it all, stressed to the breaking point from worry. The twin statues of Queen Aurora and King Argo Navis stood defiantly in the center of the hall, together forming a beautiful fountain that had inspired wonder in so many over the years. What would they have done? Her father had always been a steadfast leader, sometimes to the point of being unyielding when it would have served him better to compromise, but he'd always had her mother there to be a voice of reason and gentle persuasion. Perhaps, Celestia thought, there was one final lesson to be learned from them.

"How many active cohorts do we have in the area?" she asked as confidently as she could manage.

"At current count: three. Two Equestrian Guard units, mostly earth ponies, with another mixed unit of Equestrian Guard and Legion soldiers watching over a small group of Whitetail Loyalist and Zevran fighters we managed to save from the valley before the line broke. With the Royal Guard and Praetorians guarding the castle proper we're looking at maybe three and a half cohorts in total. Everyone else is scattered throughout the city or stuck in the forest below."

"I see. Theoretically, how long could we hold this position?"

Stonewall shrugged. "That depends on whether we can stop the firestorm. Provided we do so, and if we encircle the perimeter of the castle grounds, we could inflict heavy losses on the deer -- but as I said, we cannot hold forever. Do you have something in mind?"

"I do," Celestia answered. "We would be remiss to not use these grounds to our fullest ability; the walls are strong and the deer must fight uphill to reach the doors. What if we were to hold here with part of our forces, thus allowing the remainder to reach the armory and prepare their defenses? Would that not give us an advantage in the long run?"

"It might, certainly. It might also lead to us being overrun in short order by superior numbers. It's a risk, but if that is your will then I will see to it."

She did not hesitate to answer. "Do it. Tell the senior cadre to reconvene and prepare the fortifications to the north. How they split the cohorts is up to them, but make it explicitly clear that all unaccounted for soldiers should be sent to reinforce the armory once they are located. I am perfectly aware that we are taking a risk, but it is alarmingly obvious that magic and trickery is not going to be Cervidae's undoing. We need wood and steel, and the bodies to lift them. I will do all that I can to keep the deer away until such time that the defenses are properly readied." Strong, but flexible. Decisive, but reasonable. She hoped her parents would have approved. "You have your orders, Imperator-General."

Stonewall saluted. "As you wish, Princess. Shall I head to the armory with the others?"

A small smirk managed to tug at the corner of her mouth. "I know better than to send you away while your stallions fight. Your place is here, my friend."

Stonewall gave a short, sharp laugh in his gravelly voice. "I knew there was a reason I stuck around this long. Just remember that you're the one who will have to answer to my wife when she asks why I'm covered in blood again." He pounded his hoof against his armored chest. "Right! Time to tell those crotchety old bastards to get moving. I'll return shortly, Princess. Praetoria victor, and all that."

Let's hope this works, she could almost hear him think aloud. He was far too loyal and brash to say such a thing after receiving his orders, and he likely knew that she could sense his doubt, but he'd asked for a plan and had received one in turn. She had no intention of letting this one fail as well.

There was a thunderous crash mere moments later, causing the Praetorians to jump up in alarm. The ground began to tremble, shaking the windows and spilling water from the fountain. Then came a sound like anavalanche, fierce and growing ever louder, until all at once it stopped. Several of her guards asked aloud what had just happened, though none of them could find an answer.

A figure darted by the nearest window, landing roughly near the fortified doors. It gestured to the south, spoke quickly, then departed just as fast as it had arrived. The doors swung open a heartbeat later, and a soldier in the magically enhanced armor of Luna's former protectors approached her at a gallop. He stopped before her and saluted, his unnaturally cat-like eyes wide as he struggled to get the message out.

"What is it?" Celestia asked.

"Forgive the interruption, Your Grace, but I-I bring word from the...from the Legion scouts. It's the southern district. It's...it's gone. All of it."