Twilight Sparkle is a studious pony. Why wouldn’t she be? She’s the personal protegeé of Princess Celestia, who, along with her sister, Princess Luna, rule over Equestria. She’d also been sent to Ponyville specifically to study the subject of friendship. Over the years, Twilight’s grown to be quite the student, and now a princess too, as of late.

Doesn’t mean she stopped studying, though.

This morning, Twilight Sparkle was going through the same old motions. Getting up, getting ready for the day, waking up her dragon assistant, Spike, and preparing a simple breakfast for the both of them, which was usually oatmeal. After that, her studies would begin.

These studies were extensive, and there was nary a fact or figure she didn’t know about, or at least had an inkling of. So when Spike walked down the stairs with a letter in his claw, of course Twilight Sparkle would be excited. She dropped her studies and rushed to her assistant.

“Is it from Princess Celestia?” she excitedly asked, wings fluttering slightly.

WIthout a word, Spike handed over the scroll. Unrolling it, Twilight read aloud:

“Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle,

I feel that it is time that I give you your first official assignment as a Princess. All your studies in friendship will guide you as you carry this out. I have confidence you can do it. You may or may not know the Legends of the Kingdoms of the Far East.”

Twilight put a hoof to her chin, trying to recall such a legend. She could not, but she read on.

“Nevertheless, I feel it is time to put those old legends to rest, and open relations with these kingdoms. Because of the extreme distance between us and them, they have only been able to travel here recently. The first emissary will be in Ponyville in a few days. I ask you to welcome them, and to open relations between us. Try to arrange trade agreements, alliances, etc. I have faith that you and your friends can be successful in this task.

Your Princess, Mentor, and Friend,

Celestia.”

“I finally got my first assignment as Princess!”

A squeal erupted from Twilight as she danced on her hind legs, forearms gripping her face. Spike tiredly nodded and half-heartedly walked up the stairs to his bed. Meanwhile, Twilight’s happy dance was interrupted by a knock on the door. She rushed to it and greeted the mailmare, Derpy.

“Hiya, Derpy!”

“Hiya, Princess!”

Derpy then procured a package and held it in her mouth, presenting it to Twilight.

“P’k’gh fo’hu.”

Twilight accepted the package with thanks, and after saying goodbyes, she excitedly opened it up. It was a book she’d never seen before, which to her seemed impossible. It seemed incredibly old, too. Oh, how she liked to read old books!

Excitedly, she unbound the book, set it down on her desk and began to read the tales that lay within. These tales told of a race far away, their kingdoms, and their struggle for survival. Their bodily structure and biology were fascinating to her, as was their unique history. She then learned that not all those who lived in the world lived in harmony as the ponies do. Eventually, she came to a section entitled The Story of the Three Kingdoms, as told by Starswirl the Bearded (And translated from Classical Equestrian by Steel Quill).

The second name sparked a great interest in the book. From what she remembered, Steel Quill was one of the greatest linguists in all of Equestria, and the one who translated a lot of important historical documents. She then grinned and read on. This would be good.

I, Starswirl the Bearded, have witnessed the rise of Equestria through the efforts of the pony races, and I have also seen the sudden reveal of the Alicorn Sisters, and their spontaneous rise to power in Equestria. I have seen them tie together three pony races and cultures together in harmony. I knew then that they could and would do great things for ponykind. I was proud to be their friend and advisor.

It was all in harmony, and I couldn’t imagine anything going wrong.

So you can imagine my surprise when a new problem did arise.

One day, a refugee from beyond the eastern far lands came to us, begging for sustenance. The sisters, in their kindness, received him in their royal court. We had never seen such a creature before, but we were stunned as he told a story of struggle, of senseless violence, and of horror. I have transcribed his words below.

Note from Quill: This is the only account of the refugee’s story, so the following might or might not have been said as Starswirl transcribed it.

“I have come from a very far away place, your majesties. One where three different kingdoms are fighting for survival against their surroundings, and themselves. The kings are very greedy, and they desire nothing more than the rich, fertile lands of their neighbors. They send their soldiers out against each other instead of our proper adversary, the dangerous wildlife that hounds us so. We are a very proud people, but I see now that our pride will either destroy us, or weaken us to the point where our very surroundings could very well wipe away our existence. Please, help us.”

The princesses immediately left me in charge of the royal court and swiftly flew him back to beyond the eastern far lands, across the sea and the eastern territories. I do not know the precise distance, but the refugee has told us that he did take many months to travel to Equestria on foot and by sea. The royal sisters, however, could travel by air, bypassing whatever terrain existed to impede their path. I do not know precisely what the sisters did, but they did restore harmony among those lands, and they returned our own, and again ruled with grace and wisdom. I am still troubled, however, as to the sister’s unwillingness to tell the whole story, for an important lesson could be learned from the story of the kingdoms beyond the eastern far lands. Sometimes, I wish those who live there weren’t so far away. I would like to meet them again.

~Starswirl the Bearded

Note from Quill: There are several theories as to what exactly happened when the sisters brought harmony to those kingdoms, but here are the most popular theories.

1. The princesses simply showed these peoples the error of their ways, then they decided to unite and become one in harmony. This is the most idealistic, but, in my professional opinion, very unlikely.

2. The princesses showed them the error of their ways, but their kings were still too set on their evil ways, so the princesses (forgive me for even thinking this) removed the kings forcibly, and so they lived in harmony under wiser kings. This is another popular theory, but is a little bit edgy, and largely discredited, what with Celestia and Luna being out of character.

3. The princesses showed them the error of their ways, and some of them changed their horrible ways, but another portion of their populace resisted the change, and so instigated a terrible civil war amongst them. After a terrible duration of fighting, and a series of decisive, gory, and critical battles, the more harmonious of the lot won with the aid of the sisters, and so the farlanders lived on in harmony. I really wish this wasn’t the most popular theory, but it’s proved to be so thus far.

Twilight winced at the thought of a civil war. So terrible, but it was terrible that it was necessary to restore harmony amongst them. She then looked at the clock. It hadn’t been too long a while since she checked last.

Good. There was still time to study that night.

She went back to the book.

She then studied the ancient language that was Classical Equestrian. She knew that other names were used for it, but she didn’t bother to look at the books brought in from other libraries outside Equestria to check the other names for this language. She learned that the dead language actually formed a lot of the language used by everyone inside and outside Equestria today. She also learned that what was known as Classical Equestrian also was the language spoken by the far-landers, which was a very curious thing indeed.

Twilight Sparkle then delved deeper into the language, learning all its sentence structures, words, meanings, and how to be courteous and polite. Eventually, she tried speaking it, which went well despite the fact that she knew nothing to begin with. She was learning very quickly. She would have to, since she was chosen to meet the first one soon. They would be the first to arrive in Equestria since the famed refugee.

She had every reason to be excited for the day when the dignitaries arrived.

She ran around town, telling her friends, who, after some explanation of the situation, also became excited. Pinkie Pie in particular (to exactly nopony’s surprise) was excited at the prospect of a party for the dignitaries from a super-far-away land.

However, the only thing the ponies could do now was wait for the visitors to complete their long and tedious journey.

As the days rolled by, everypony (except for Twilight and Pinkie Pie) forgot that there was even to be an envoy of strangers to arrive any time. Twilight Sparkle kept up her studies on what was known of those strangers, and Pinkie Pie continued to plan her party. Each day found some new addition for her to include, be it extra streamers, more balloons, or other assorted gifts and surprises. None of the other Ponyville residents noticed as the party grew larger and larger, just attributing her behavior as Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie, ballooning out further and further throughout the town until not even she had the faintest idea how big it really was. She knew it was going to be enormous.

The fateful day finally arrived when the dignitaries arrived.

Twilight again went through the motions, preparing for a long day of studying Classical Equestrian, when Spike groggily slumbered down the stairs with a letter in an outstretched claw. Princess Celestia had written a letter to Twilight saying that they would be arriving sometime this day by train, and that she was to personally greet them to Equestria, while Princess Celestia would arrange for other dignitaries from the other nations neighboring Equestria to come greet these new friends. She was overjoyed at the oncoming possibilities. With a hasty goodbye to a sleepy Spike, she tore out of the house to gather her friends.

Twilight practically raced through the street, thumping hooves disturbing the morning air as she made her way to Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie Pie was easy enough to find, what with her love of the place. She was about to greet Pinkie when she said,

“Is it today?”

Twilight nodded excitedly, and the both of them bolted out of Sugarcube Corner, leaving a pair of confused Cakes in their wake. Next was Rarity’s Carousel Boutique. They led Rarity out of the Boutique, her asking questions like, “What is their exotic fashion like? Are they good little gentlecolts? I wonder what exotic tastes they must have. Oooh, I wonder if their stitchwork is any good? Do they use a lot of color in their ensembles?”

They then tried to track down Rainbow Dash, to no avail. She wasn’t to be seen all over town. Perhaps they could have better luck finding the rest of the group.

As they walked to Sweet Apple Acres, their thoughts and conversations were interrupted by a pair of mares hoof-wrestling. It was Applejack and Rainbow Dash, with Fluttershy meekly spectating, hoping that their playfighting wouldn’t get out of hoof. Now that all the Elements were assembled, they headed for the train station. Twilight looked over that dusty old book one more time as she walked, which drew the attention of her friends.

“Twilight, darling. You’re going to get your nose stuck in that book. Just relax.”

Twilight walked on, apparently not having heard Rarity. Rarity sighed, shook her head, but walked on. Twilight again reviewed the story and a bit of the ancient language. Then she, with her friends, waited at the edge of the platform of Ponyville’s train station for the ambassador from beyond the eastern far land would arrive.

The scenery was less than ideal. The weather schedule for the day was overcast, and it cast a grey light as the line of ponies waited. Pinkie Pie was bouncing up and down endlessly, thoughts moving a million miles a minute. Rarity had several trains of thought chugging along, trying to determine what and how their fashion worked.

Applejack was there, as was her applecart. It was her intention to feed the dignitaries who must be very tired and hungry from such a long journey. She also had a small ulterior motive, that being a possible chance to expand business for Sweet Apple Acres.

Oblivious to the importance of the occasion, Rainbow Dash simply waited there, slightly disinterested by the turn of events. She might actually have dozed off if Pinkie Pie wouldn’t stop bouncing on the wood, creating enough repetitive percussive noise to keep her head in the here and now.

Meanwhile, Fluttershy was conversing with Twilight about the specifics of those who they’d be meeting soon. She was also interested in their behaviors, in their mannerisms. She sympathized with their difficulty with their immediate environment which was actively hostile towards them. She also expressed hope that they would work together to bring peace to the land, and give the “poor creatures” some peace and quiet. Fluttershy then turned to her own thoughts on how she could get those unruly animals to behave.

They were so absorbed into their own conversations that they might’ve missed the train approaching, had it not been for Pinkie Pie excitedly pointing at the horizon at the approaching smokestack, giddily giggling on in tangents only she could follow. The ponies went silent as the train made its approach. Even Pinkie went silent as the train eventually neared.The ponies glanced at each other, but then they refocused on the oncoming train.. This specific train had some passenger cars, but looked to be mostly for commerce. The angular boxcars posed quite a stark difference to the idyllic environment around it, which included the gentle curves of the other train cars.

The train stopped, and the ponies eagerly moved to the back of the train, where the passenger cars rested. They came to a stop, and mentally prepared themselves for the visitor. The door opened with a squeak, and one of them stepped out, boots thudding against the wooden planks of the boarding platform.

He was quite an imposing sight to behold. He seemed to be around six feet tall, and quite slender in appearance. Twilight was immediately reminded of the crude sketches of the bipedals in her notes, but they didn’t even come close in comparison to the real thing. He also wore a dark dress uniform that an officer of the royal guard might wear. Covering most of his clothing was a black cloak that hung over his shoulders and back, with a white cross pattée embroidered on the right side. Twilight then looked at his face.

He had a square jaw, a small nose, and steely blue eyes. He had a greying mane that was cut extremely short, and he had ape-like ears. That wasn’t his most striking feature, however.

He seemed to be a weary, worn being, with wrinkles that cut into his face, betraying his age, and two deep, parallel scars, possibly from horrible conflicts ran from his hairline to his left ear. He also had smaller nicks and scratches along his face that indicated that he had lived a long, hard life full of violence and chaos.

This caused Twilight to start thinking, ‘So, this is what a man looks like...’

Twilight snapped back to the current situation and greeted the man. She bowed and said in perfect Classical Equestrian,

“<Welcome to Ponyville, noble one.>”

Feeling confident her studies paid off, Twilight was surprised when the man spoke perfect Modern Equestrian. His voice carried throughout the Train Station as he bowed low.

“It is an honor, Princess Twilight Sparkle. My name is Orator Hominis. I am here to begin the work of negotiation with you and the other nations. They have agreed to meet here, as well. Let me introduce you to my escort.”

He motioned, and his friend came out. He was certainly physically qualified for a bodyguard. From what Twilight could tell, he was very fit. Tall, like Orator, and just as scarred. There was, however, a significant change in attire. Unlike the flowy cape Orator wore, this man had a red tunic that covered his body, from his shoulders to his knees, and he had a curious set of armor on. Strips of gleaming steel overlapped each other, covering the torso and shoulders with plating and gleamed in the midday sun. Instead of boots, this man wore thick sandals, metal bolts dotting the sole of the shoe. A sword hung off his belt, one which would give any would-be enemy pause, sheathed, but obviously sharp. An ornate helmet sat on his head, glistening metal covering most of his head, with solid metal shapes lowering over the top of the head, down the back of the head, and a flat shape covered the back of his neck. Ornate metal shapes hung from the helmet, covering parts of his face. A royal red crest ran across the top of the helmet, from ear to ear, putting any royal guard helmet to shame.

He bowed low, crest bobbing slightly.

“It is an honor, Princess. I am Marce Pullo Vorenius. Please, let me introduce you to my command.”

What?

The crested man gave a vocal signal, and all of the boxcar doors slid out. Out stepped many men, also in red and steel. They carried simpler helmets, armor, and big, red, rectangular shields, all which had designs on them, the most prominent being a gold wreath of laurels. They all had similar swords on their belts, and all stood at attention in a practiced manner, next to one another in formation. Never moving, never flinching. These faces seemed younger in comparison to the wrinkled-scarred faces that Marce and Orator wore. Ponies had gathered to watch this odd event.

He isn’t just a bodyguard. He’s a captain, or a general!

Everypony turned to Marce, who grinned with pride and sharp canine teeth. These must be his finest soldiers. Still, one thing still bothered her. “Why did you bring so many soldiers with you?”

Marce chuckled, “You need at least this many to safely traverse through the wilds which we live in. This way, we don’t get attacked. Often. You won’t find a finer set of soldiers in all the armies of the kingdoms.”

Orator glanced over at him with a neutral expression. “Other than the ranks of the Kingdoms of Abraxas and Lacedas of course, Marce. Your Reman legion, fine as they are, still are only but a part of the defense of the kingdoms.”

Marce winced for a second, before replying. “Of course, sir. I wouldn’t discredit the strength of the two other kingdoms.”

“No, you wouldn’t. The personal army of the Regnator Ligia has ensured that.”

They suddenly tore themselves away from each other and into the situation at hand. They both apologized and Orator spoke, “May we have the honor of knowing your companions?”

Twilight turned to her friends, and pointed them out as she introduced them. “This is Pinkie Pie, the Bearer of the Element of Laughter.”

Pinkie Pie then bounced forward with the widest grin she could manage, offering one of her forehooves. Orator grasped the hoof and shook it firmly. “It is a pleasure, Element Bearer Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie Pie then withdrew back to Twilight’s side, as she introduced the rest of her friends. Orator greeted them all, shaking their hooves, and using their titles as element bearers. The ponies were getting a sense that the visitors were extremely formal, which was understandable, yet was a bit worrying that they seemed so tense.

The column of soldiers stepped forward, allowing more soldiers to disembark from the train. These soldiers seemed significantly younger, but had simpler armaments, consisting of the same signature helmets, the same signature tunics, and the same signature sandals. They had light leather armor, though, along with a smaller, round shield, which held heavy javelins. They fell into line behind the much hardier looking steel-plated soldiers. Together, these soldiers walked into a solemn column in front of the trains. The ponies looked to these soldiers, nervousness and uncertainty covering their faces, while Marce and Orator looked over to them in pride. Twilight looked back to the duo and noticed their prideful looks, then cleared her throat. Their attention successfully regained, Twilight spoke up, nervously, “Shall we get going, then?”

Both men nodded, and Marce barked out several commands to his soldiers. They all lined up, and as the ponies, Orator, and Marce moved throughout the town, the Legion followed. To the passerby pony, it would seem that a military parade was going on, of a kind that was never seen before. Instead of the hooves of the Royal Guard, it was the sound of thudding feet that reverberated throughout the town, attracting attention as the march continued.

Curious ponies gathered on the sidelines, staring in degrees of awe and wonder. Several ponies grew nervous, though, and Twilight could see why. They were, after all, walking with a bunch of strange creatures looking like they could take over Ponyville at any time. Dust started to drift around the marching feet. The rhythmic sound almost seemed hypnotic at the time.

Twilight glanced back at the younger soldiers, and they didn’t seemed to be as discretional with their gazes. Unlike the rigid, steely gazes of the legionnaires, these men occasionally glanced at buildings, ponies, and it seemed to them that this place was indeed one of curiosity.

She then turned to Orator, and said, “How long has it taken to get here?”

He turned to her with a smile, and said, “It took us months to cut through the circle of untamed wilderness that surrounds all our homes. Once on the plain, we made significant progress. I haven’t even seen an airship until the day we... were beset by bandits. It seems danger lurks all around, even in the skies. Nothing we couldn’t live with.” Twilight grimaced, but the man continued. “We finally reached the coast, and we boarded a large vessel, bound for... Fillydelphia, I think it was?”

Orator turned to Marce, who nodded. “Fillydelphia, then. We boarded a train, then, bound for this place, and here is where you find us. Now, where are you leading us?”

Twilight blinked, but said, sheepishly, “We’ve made accommodations in the nearby inn, though we cannot take in your soldiers there. They’ll have to make camp.”

Marce nodded, and curtly replied, “Where can we find an area suitable for encampment?”

Twilight thought a bit, but then said, “Near the Everfree Forest. I warn you, though, it’s quite dangerous to go in there, as there are all manner of monsters. From what I hear, though, it’s quite the norm for you.” She then drooped her head, contemplating the undoubtedly rough existence of these beings, and didn’t notice the first few times Marce asked her something, but she snapped out of it, and heard him out.

“Where can we find this forest, Princess?”

Twilight pointed in the general direction of the forest, along a street to the left, and Marce barked out an order which caused the entire formation to halt. Having been used to the sound of marching feet, this silence seemed eerie, as weapons and armor gleamed in the morning sun. Marce barked out another order, and gave a hand signal, pointing down the street. The legion started up again in their machine-like movements, moving in the direction of the forest. Marce turned to Orator, and asked, “<I must see to the safe encampment of my men, Orator. Permission to leave thy side?>”

Orator nodded, and the Reman Centurion marched with his men. Orator turned to Twilight and asked, “So, where will the accommodations be, then?”

........

After several minutes of walking, a quaint inn came into sight of Princess Twilight and Ambassador Orator. She pointed to it and said, “Look, it’s the Quaint Inn! I’m sure you can rest your battle-weary bones here, Orator.”

After her outburst, Twilight shrunk back a bit as Orator looked a bit incredulously at her. He shook his head, and smiled. “Your kindness is appreciated, Princess.”

With that, the duo walked into the inn, where a curiously-dressed pony greeted them. “Hallo, and welcome to ze Quaint Inn! I am yer Quaint Innkeeper. My name Quaint Innkeeper zhe 12th. Ah. I haff zhe reshervation for zhe... Orator, wazzit?”

An angry voice sounded from another room, “Quaint, if you’re trying to use the accents and convince everypony that you’re Quaint the 12th again, I swear to all that is holy...”

Another pony walked into the inn reception, and upon spotting the visitors, she changed her demeanor instantly and greeted the visitors with a cheerful smile. “Hello! May I show you to your room, Mr...?”

Orator shook himself out of his trance, and observed these ponies a bit more closely. They both had a brown coat, with autumn yellow manes, with streaks of bright yellow here and there. Orator assumed they must be siblings. He said, “My name’s Orator Hominis. Might I have the pleasure of learning your name?”

The pony said, “My name is Hostess. Hostess Innkeeper. I sometimes make treats for guests. Would you like one?”

Orator shook his head, politely declining in favor of just finding a room. Together, the group went to find the reserved room. Upon finding it, Hostess fished a key out and handed it to Orator. He thanked her and bade her farewell. Twilight then returned to her home, thinking about the events that she thought would lay ahead.

......

Meanwhile, Reman camp “Ponyville” was running just on schedule. Trees were felled from the nearby forest, and fortifications erected. A line of trunks served as a makeshift wall that would protect the tent city within.

Attius, an Auxiliary with tanned skin and dark hair, was hard at work, whacking a particularly tough tree with his two-handed foresting axe. He didn’t know what to think of the current situation. He had been travelling long, fighting hard against the wilderness that seemed to hate him and all his friends in the Legion. In his short life span, he’d been under great struggles, toils, and had fought monsters that he knew could kill hundreds of men just like him. Only... he wasn’t quite a man yet. Experience notwithstanding, he was still only a junior auxiliary, waiting for the time he would become a fully-fledged Legionnaire, and a man of the Reman Kingdom. That he would look forward to.

At last the tree fell down from his whacking, and he set aside his large axe in favor of a hatchet that would be more easily handled as he whacked off the branches. He thought of the parade earlier in the day. A deliberate attempt at wooing the populace and an attempt to show off the military power of the Reman Kingdom. Auxiliary Attius had been instructed to act as a proper Legionnaire, and to act disinterested in his surroundings. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, though, and he spared a few glances at the buildings and the populace, curious as they were. He even locked eyes with them sometimes, sharing curious looks. He remembered his training, and kept his eyes to the soldier in front of him.

It was curious, he thought. Curious that such a peaceful place could exist. These houses were a far stretch from the ones that he had seen back home. It all seemed so safe, and tranquil. Clearing his head of these thoughts, he focused back on his work. As soon as the trunk was bare, he tied rope to the end of the trunk and started the grueling task of dragging it back to camp himself.

Hours later, and after some more work, the construction was finished. The wall extended all around the camp, save for several entrances that could be blocked off with shields and swords if need be. Auxiliary Attius rested in his tent, having had his fill of rations. He thought some more about the current situation. It... seemed so very odd to the young man. The Legion hadn’t been attacked for some time, and everybody was joking that the longer between attacks the more severe the next attack, but it almost didn’t seem to be the case here. It seemed incredulous that this place could be indeed very peaceful, something very alien to Attius. Soon enough, the young Auxiliary fell asleep.

A sudden noise woke Attius up. The sound of struggle. The camp was under attack. Peering out of his tent, he saw what appeared to be wolves made of bark and timber attacking men left and right as they struggled against the foe. He got up and out of the tent, unsheathed his knife, and shouted with relief, “<It’s like everything’s normal again!>”

He then joined the melee with his friends.

Later that night, the camp was lit up by fires fueled by the very creatures that had caused quite a stir. The soldiers around the campfire laughed and picked at their new wounds and splinters, hoping that these new scratches would scar and add to their prestige and battle-honor. The fires burnt bright well into the morning.

................

The next morning, a group approached the camp. They consisted of Orator and the greeting party of ponies from yesterday. They were exchanging pleasantries when they noticed the slightly damaged camp. Rushing the rest of the way there, they met Marce, where they asked what happened. Marce said,

“Honorable Orator, we had only just finished the fort when beasts from the forests attacked us. I’m glad to report no casualties and . If I may say so, sir, this has been a real morale booster, seeing as the men can unwind after such an uneventful journey.”

Orator had a smile on his face, while the ponies were flabbergasted. They considered fighting dangerous creatures fun? What kind of society would have to fight for so hard for so long that they would expect to fight for their lives as sure as they’d expect the sun to rise? The ponies were brought back to the current situation as Orator asked them something. He tried asking again, “My ladies, are you alright?”

Nervous nods answered the man, and the group went into the camp proper. Injured, jolly humans lied on cots here and there, chatting with friends and showing off their injuries. The more severe the injury, the more praise and attention they seemed to get from their fellow Legionnaires. Twilight asked Orator, “I hope they’ll be alright.”

Orator looked back with a smile and said, “Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary, Princess. A couple of days and those scratches will be but a fond memory.” Twilight blinked. It would seem that these humans were quite hardy. A good trait to have, considering.

The Legionnaires inside the camp regarded the group with salutes, waves and smiles. They weren’t kidding about the morale being raised. A few soldiers sparred with thick sticks and the large shields they carried. They seemed to be quite rough with each other, which was almost understandable, the way they had to fight every day. The level of commitment that they seemed to go to war with, though, was frighteningly high. Fluttershy spoke up. “Um, Marce?”

The party stopped as Marce looked to Fluttershy expectantly. She then said, “Is there anypo-anybody that’s really hurt? I know you can probably deal with these injuries on your own, but if there’s anything I can do to help...”
Marce nodded, then said, “Element Bearer Fluttershy, we do not require medical assistance, but if you feel the need, go ahead. These men would consider it an honor to be attended to by such a healer of high standing and quality.”

Fluttershy shrunk behind her mane, but went off to attend to the injured. Rainbow Dash broke off from the group to go accompany Fluttershy as she flew from man to man, seeing to them as best she could. Rainbow Dash just admired the humans’ tolerance to pain and injury. It seemed that the worse the injury, the more cheerful and envied the man was. What a weird lot they were, to be sure.

The rest of the group went along camp until they came upon a man standing next to a large tent, wherein laid packs and bags, holding lists upon lists upon lists. He must have been the quartermaster. Upon their arrival, the man noticed them, and greeted them. “<Ave, Imperator!>”

Marce greeted the man back. “<Ave, Quartermaster! What news of our logistics?>”

The Quartermaster held out his list to Marce and said as Marce accepted the list, “<The fort’s defences are of the best quality the men can achieve, Imperator. Our packed stores of grain and diremeat are at acceptable levels, but we have discovered Cockatrices, which will add to our food stores. I’ve already instructed our best Auxiliaries to go hunt them, Imperator.>”

The Quartermaster then looked to the ponies. Twilight Sparkle, being the only one that understood them, blanched at the true extent of their diet. The Quartermaster then bowed low to the ponies, greeting them the best he could.

Marce addressed the Quartermaster by asking, “<Are the Coqui ready to distribute our rations? I do look forward to a hearty meal.>”

The Quartermaster pointed to behind the tents, and replied, “<They are just preparing the food now, Imperator.>”

The Quartermaster then turned back to his lists and checked his supply stock again.

The group then walked by a cooking area, which Applejack and Pinkie Pie took an interest in. Just before the two ponies were out of earshot, Twilight heard Pinkie say, “Oooh, you guys! What’s this diracarnis you guys talking about? It smells soooo good!”

The group finally came to what apparently was a command tent, being more decorative with golden fabrics weaved into the fabric of the tent to make designs befitting such a place. The group walked in and saw several simple chairs around a table. They sat down, and Orator addressed the ponies. “What do you think of our little home away from home so far, Princess?”

Twilight nervously responded, “Well, there’s not much to say of this place. Rarity, what did you think?”

Rarity, in her neverending quest to act ladylike and to value things of an aesthetically pleasing nature, looked around and critically scanned the area, looking for things that were pleasing to the eye, and said, “Well, it’s all very austere... but it is a military encampment, after all. Practicality is first in this line of work, after all.”

Marce nodded, but Orator spoke out. “I was hoping to speak to Princess Celestia about these talks. May we get in contact with her?”

Twilight then said back, “She’s already talking to the emissaries of the other nations. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to talk to me.”

Marce and Orator glanced at each other, but Orator nodded, and Twilight began a rehearsed talk. “I, Princess Twilight Sparkle of the Equestrian Kingdom, do hereby officially begin the peaceful process of negotiations between The Kingdom of Equestria and The Kingdoms of Man.”

Orator smiled, and said back, “As the representative of the Kingdoms of Man, I recognize Princess Twilight Sparkle as the representative of the Kingdom of Equestria. Shall we begin?”

Twilight nodded, and the meeting began in proper.

.......

Meanwhile, Celestia scribbled on a piece of magical parchment furiously. Mild anger furrowed her brow while distress softened her eyes. The negotiations on her end had been utterly disastrous. Fear and superstition were evident in the demeanor of the various representatives that she just spoke to. She thought that the elected and trained ambassadors that were sent by the various races outside Equestria would be civil and well-collected.

What she witnessed was a bunch of children spouting ghost stories about the Kingdoms of Men. If the Griffons were to be believed, Men could throw lightning and cast boulders the size of homes. If the Dragons were to be believed, Men could outfox the very gods that founded the world. Diamond Dogs firmly believed that Men accessed the very core of the world, pawing at its untold riches. If what the Minotaurs say is true, then Men can run for hours and not faint. According to the Kobolds, Men drank acid and crafted steel titans. Somehow, even the reclusive Goblins had tall tales to tell about the so-called “tall war-demons”. It seemed that superstition and distrust ruled the day as Celestia failed to soften the hearts of the ambassadors.

This was why she was writing to Princess Twilight Sparkle.

.......

In the militaristic setting that was the meeting between representatives of Equestria and Mankind respectively, the gathering of goodwill and well-intention was interrupted as a flash of golden light materialized a letter in front of Twilight Sparkle. She unfurled it, and a gasp escaped her. She then said, “We’ve got a problem.”

Orator, Rarity, and Marce looked on with uneasy anticipation in the pit of their guts as Twilight read the letter aloud.

“ Dear Twilight Sparkle,

My faithful student, I must extend my apologies, as I have failed the Kingdoms of Man. Superstition runs rampant throughout the lands, and I fear an attack is imminent. Extend my apologies to Orator, please, and advise him to return to his lands post-haste.

Your mentor,

Princess Celestia. ”

Orator and Marce stood up, demeanor changed to one of seriousness, rather than one of hospitality and friendliness. They traded looks, then Marce charged out of the tent, shouting in Classical. Orator bowed to Rarity and Twilight and then said, “I’m sorry, Princess. We must busy ourselves with our departure. We will keep in touch, Princess. May I escort you out of camp?”

Rarity and Twilight said nothing, instead choosing to follow Orator outside and into the camp. It seemed like chaos outside. Men were running everywhere with equipment, the wooden walls being felled, tents being taken down and packed up. Even the wounded seemed to pack up in haste.

In short order, the group found Pinkie Pie and Applejack helping pack up the provisions. They bid farewell to their Legionnaire friends and joined up. Next, they found Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, fussing over the severely wounded as they made themselves ready for travel. Reluctantly, Fluttershy broke away from her treatment of the wounded, whom was tailed by Rainbow Dash, interested more in the men themselves than their wounds. There was something about their demeanor that she found awesome. She also overheard some of the phrases that were offered to the injured. Phrases such as,

“Dolor nihil sed antecessor gloriae est.”

She would have to ask Twilight what they meant when they said that.

.....

Attius the Legionnaire was in a rush, as was the rest of the Legion. The order came down from Centurion Marce that they were to be in the Kingdoms yesterday, and that an attack by the simpletons next to the kingdom’s borders was not only possible, but possibly imminent.

Everyone then made sure to keep at least their swords close.

And then the run began.

Everyone was in a line, including the wounded, and they ran. The ones who couldn’t run were on stretchers carried by upwards to ten men. But they ran.

.....

Twilight Sparkle and her friends were walking through the streets of Ponyville, having been escorted out of the military camp by Orator, and now were glancing amongst themselves, trying to speak without words how they felt about the unfolding events that were occurring.

Then their ears twitched as they heard and tried to identify a strange rumbling sound that reverberated throughout the ground. Almost like a...

“Stampede!”

The group then turned around to see who had said that, but as they did, they caught sight of something else.

It was the entire Reman Legion barreling through the streets.

Their metal-studded sandals thudding on the dirt roads of Ponyville, the surprisingly swift runners of the Legion raced through the streets, winding to the train station. Ponies stood aside, awash again with awe and curiosity as the Legion again made its way through the town. It could even be a mesmerizing sight, seeing the coordinated march proceed through the street. The soldiers carried all their kit and their wounded comrades, running just as fast as the next man. Such a display of synchronized racing hadn’t been seen in Ponyville before. These bipedals were running next to each other carrying so much and yet weren’t stumbling on the ground or each other.

The train that carried them there hadn’t departed, but was on standby at the station, ready to take the Legion wherever they wanted. Which, at that moment, was out of here. The pony train conductors and engineers were lounging in one of the train cars when they saw the storm of people that showed up. Marce walked up to them and instructed that they start the train and make it ready for departure immediately.

While the ponies got the boilers going, the wounded were loaded, and the equipment stashed away. The last ones on the train were Legionnaires like Attius who had formed a perimeter with their swords and shields while the train was loaded. The cargo train, having all its doors closed and all its passengers secured, the train departs, hastily making its way to the east coast of Equestria.

Twilight Sparkle and her friends also were on a train, albeit a different one, and that train’s destination was Canterlot. Celestia had sent a letter right after the departure of the Legionnaires, and they were all nervous to see what would transpire in the near future. They all now knew that the Legionnaires had fled, but they were still concerned for their collective safety. If what they feared was true, then shortly there would be a war.

Something that not been seen for a thousand years. Something that was vague, yet terrifying. The ponies glanced at each other, looking for comfort in each other’s eyes. The recent events had all weighed heavily on their minds as of recently, though, and the outcome looked grim.

Even Pinkie Pie was still feeling the effects of her experience at the encampment, and made a mental note never to sample diracarnis again. Or, maybe if she....

Pinkie seemed to be lost in thought, and Applejack noticed that, so she asked,

“What’s on your mind, sugarcube?”

Pinkie absentmindedly answered,

“I’m thinking of a way to make their diracarnis rations more sweet.”

Pinkie suddenly lights up, and exclaims,

“Brown sugar! That’s it! I just need to cook it with brown sugar! And a hint of pepper! Oh! I should share it with all of you! I mean, it’s fine for a ration, but it could do with a little spicing up!”

As Pinkie rambled on, the spirit of the train car slowly lifted, and everypony managed a small smile. Even in these trying of times, that silly pink party pony would find ways to make her friends smile. This, Pinkie’s friends are grateful for.

The train, having finally arrived at Canterlot, stopped to allow passengers like Twilight and her friends to disembark. They hastily made their way to the castle, a trip that was thankfully short, made so by the Royal Guard escort sent to accompany Princess Twilight and her friends. This practically cleared the way by their mere royal presence and their apparent haste, which signaled to the populace that something was up. Again.

Getting into the castle, Twilight and her friends passed by some dignitaries of the Goblin Collective. Short little green goblins with scrawny long ears that protruded from the sides of their heads, they wore crude chainmail armor with torn red fabrics that were more or less draped over the chainmail. Their yellow eyes sat above pointed, large noses. They didn’t wear anything on their thin feet and hands, but carried spears and hung little knives on their worn belts. One of them wore a busted-up crown and was fatter than the others, along with less damaged clothing. This fat goblin addressed Twilight as she passed, causing everypony to stop.

“Princess Pony!”

Twilight halted to listen, and the goblin continued in his little raspy, squeaky voice.

“We don’t likes to visit your comfortable castles often, but when we do, it’s to tell your other princess ponies that we don’t likes the war-daemons. Theys too strong for us little goblins, and that’s saying something, seeing as we like to test our mettle against each other all the time.”

Twilight tilted her head in curiousity and asked the goblin leader,

“Daemons?”

The authoritative goblin barked and left with his escort goblins, leaving the ponies to wonder what they meant. However, they needed to get to the throne room, so they progressed. The pace was more subdued, more patient, leaving everypony to mull over the meaning of the goblin’s words.

After some time, the group entered the throne room. The dignitaries of the loose collection of groups of Diamond Dogs, Kobolds, Minotaurs, and Griffons were in attendance, as was a single Elder Dragon. The Diamond Dog emissary had a Brass Waterloo Helmet, while the other dogs had the traditional spiked dog collars that dog peons were expected to wear. The Kobolds wore simple gold cuirasses on their chests and gold skullcap helmets. The Kobold ambassador wore a much more ornate set of golden armor, complete with a ornate skullcap with a red horse-crescent. The Minotaurs only wore their heavy armor, designed for extensive combat, which had dings and scratches in the plate armor. In contrast, the Minotaur ambassador wore a simple ambassadorial white toga, complete with honor pins on their honor-sashes. The Griffons wore light armor, ideal for their build. The Griffon ambassador had a similar outfit to the Minotaur, barring the honor pins and instead wearing golden laces in the Griffons’ ordinarily white toga. Then they saw the Dragon properly.

The head of the purple dragon was barely able to squeeze through the window to take part of the proceedings. Upon seeing the group, the Ambassadors greeted the newly-arrived Princess. Before Princess Twilight could be completely surrounded, Princess Celestia stepped in and expertly received the guests by making her presence known with her clearing her voice. All of the dignitaries then approached Princess Celestia and started to talk all at once, so she gestured and said,

“One at a time, please.”

After a duration, the din calmed down. Celestia said,

“That’s better. Now, what do you have to say on behalf of your peoples?”

The Diamond Dog ambassador stepped forward anxiously, and with a sound that could be heard as a grunt, a gulp, or clearing one’s throat, nervously said, twiddling its thumbs,

“We of Diamond Dog Packs... do wish again that Pony Princesses see reason.”

Princess Celestia then gently said back,

“I don’t see any reason in attacking the Kingdoms of Man. After all, they are under siege by their very environment, so I plead with you one last time to give these beings a chance to prove themselves. I know that they may seem scary, but I tell you that they are innocent.”

The Diamond dog with the brass horned helmet seemed to be infuriated by this, so it stomped once, then said angrily,

“Man not innocent! Pony doesn’t understand! Man digs and digs deeper, robbing dogs of our rightful riches! Their hunger for wealth matches our own, yet they’re not diamond dogs! They can’t take what is ours! We will not stand for this! You will see, and they will see what happens when you try to leash a Diamond Dog!”

The Dog then stormed out, leaving everyone else to see the fuming dog as it stomped out. Everypony looked at each other, gauging the other’s reactions to the unfolding events. Twilight noticed while the Kobolds looked nervous and would look around into some dark corner every so often, the Minotaurs would stand upright, silent and unreadable. The Griffons, however, were cooly scanning the room, as if anticipating a trap or an ambush, one they obviously felt ready for. The princess's reactions to this were neutral, if her blank face was anything to go by. The Minotaur then stepped forward, and boisterously said,

“The dog may not speak right, but it is right. Man’s too dangerous to be left alone, especially when he can run any of you down and not tire after. What’s to say he won’t? He has the capacity, so he will. He will hunt us down and destroy us. We may be stronger, but they will last just as long if not longer than we can. What’s to say he won’t exercise his potential? This is why we must stop them from destroying us. We will destroy them, first to prove our endurance, and second, to prove ourselves the stronger of the combatants. We offer them honorable deaths, Princess Celestia, but that’s all the honor they’ll get.”

After those words, the minotaur ambassador left, him and his comrades causing great thumping along the ground where they walked. After the thumping subsided, the kobold ambassador then stepped forward, and gave his remarks.

“I would hate to agree with these warm-blooded barbarians, but they’re right in that these mammals are too strong to be allowed to live. My good friend once tried to serve as ambassador to these... people, but he nearly died when he sampled one of their drinks. They are biologically incompatible to even dine with us, let alone get along with us. They are too alien to us, and suggesting that we initiate close relations is to court death. If even something as simple as a drink can harm us so, what do you think their weapons can do to us? No, we will not stand for this, and neither should you.“

With that, the Kobolds also dismissed themselves, feet almost racing to get out of this environment as if it were to go somewhere safer, and the Griffons stood forward. The griffon ambassador sighed sadly and said,

“I’m sorry, Princess Celestia. I too realize the danger here. Even if I’ve spent a lot of time in this palace to serve as an agent of peace, I can sense when war is not only inevitable but on the immediate horizon. You do not understand it yet, but you will. War is coming, and Gryphus must respond properly if she is to survive. We may have our weapons, but the advancement of men means that their weapons grow more varied and more effective than our own every year. Our best are struggling to keep up with their advancements, but it may prove ultimately futile. Their cannons are bigger, stronger, lighter than ours. There’s even rumors of repeating handheld cannons that are circulating. Of course we would ordinarily disregard those rumors, but from what we’ve seen of these humans, nothing is impossible. We must remain vigilant, or these humans will crush us like so many eggshells.”

Having said this, the Griffon Ambassador left with his escort, exchanging one last sad look at Princess Celestia before departing. Twilight Sparkle remembered observing the fond friendships between Griffon Ambassador Kaln and Princess Celstia, and noticed that Princess Celestia had visibly lost a fraction of her friendly demeanor. Celestia then went up to the dragon, who looked at Celestia almost with contempt. Celestia addressed the dragon with a soft voice, saying,

“Surely you, Asaduth the Wise, see the folly of attacking such a people?”

The dragon answered back with a deep voice that reverberated throughout the throne room, saying slowly,

“Princess Celestia. I admire your dedication to preserving life whenever you find it, and I’ve seen many examples of that...”

The dragon paused to glance over to Spike for a fraction for a second, but turned its attention back to Celestia, and said,

“...were worth the investments you’ve put into them. However, saying that, I see that your efforts are wasted in trying to redeem these humans. You see, they are dangerous. Dangerous not because of their violence, no. They can corral their tempers, and that is terrifying. A species that can truly control its nature is unstoppable. Unstoppable in that they can change their very destinies. They can become anything, and they’ll strive to become the masters of the world, just because they have the power to do so. We dragons know all too well of the temptations of sovereignty of the world, and the humans are now at a position the dragons once were. Powerful. Naive. And all dangerous. You will see our wisdom when they turn on you because you don’t provide them with as much power as another potential ally. You’ll see. There are too many parallels between them and us to not think they would not attempt to take over.

“They are not learned as we are, so history is doomed to repeat itself. We must wage war to keep them from asserting themselves over us. They already show the signs. Now we must stop them. I’ve already laid the groundwork of a Coalition of Free Beings. You must join us or possibly face tyranny at the hands of the humans.”

And with that, the dragon withdrew its head and departed, great big leathery purple-green wings gyrating, causing great lift but also a lot of sound. Celestia sighed and visibly deflated, defeated after all her efforts had failed. The only question, then was... how would these next series of events play out?

A man burst into a small office with marble walls and floor.

“<Sire!>”

The aged king of Remas looked up from his papers and scrolls to regard the messenger. A window from behind the king illuminated the room, but cast dark shadows on his face. He said back in a tired voice,

“<Yes, what is it?>”

The red-robed messenger huffed, then said,

“<We’ve received a communique from Princess Celestia, Emporious. Her negotiations have failed to soften the hearts of the other races. Gryphus, the Dog Confederation, the Dragons, the Goblin Collective, the Minotaur Tribes, and the Kobold Kind have formed an alliance they call the ‘Coalition of Free Beings’. Sire, they’ve declared war on us and the other Kingdoms of Man.>”

Emporious Caius Milonius Lupinus’s expression darkened, and he asked of the messenger,

“<Does the Arnax and the Konrik know?>”

The messenger nodded solemnly. Caius slowly stood up and walked over to the messenger. Caius wore a simple red robe, with his traditional Emporious golden wreath on his head. He asked the messenger,

“<What of Orator and Marce and his legion?>”

The messenger answered,

“<On their way home, sire.>”

Caius took a deep breath, then asked,

“<Does... the Regnator Ligia know?>”

The messenger shook his head, and Caius sighed. He then said to the messenger,

“<I see. they want us to inform him together, as is usual when bad news is delivered to him. I’ll come along. Dismissed.>”

The messenger bolted out, leaving Caius alone to prepare. Caius cast a glance over to a display which showed off his armor. It had indeed seen better days. Caius took a moment to try to count the times that armor had preserved his life, but quickly decided against it, for it was too many to count. He then departed his personal office, leaving his marble office to traverse the marble hallways to his destination. His little walk through the halls led to a stairway, which then led to a courtyard, green with grass and many other colors with the other flora that was planted there. He stopped to gaze upon the flowers, remembering that many were planted in memory of fallen heroes. It saddened Caius to see so many flowers in this memorial, the color and variety rivaling that of the rare rainbows that sometimes fate bestowed upon their skies. Caius walked along the makeshift memorial, remembering...

Some time ago...

The ever-persistent threat of the untamed wilds had taken yet more warriors in the defense in the Kingdoms. It was this day that many men, women, and children, all wearing black garments, gathered at the memorial. All heads hung low, and the only sounds to be heard were the pattering of raindrops on the pavement. Caius, as was regulation, offered the final words for the valiant fallen.

“<Today, we are in debt. A life-debt that cannot be repaid by those who have given their lives so that we may live ours. The ever-present threat of the wilds would destroy us all if it weren’t for our efforts and for their sacrifice. We all have family that have given their final efforts for all of us.>”

A few more flowers were placed, each to remember the fallen heroes of the Kingdoms of Man.

“<We have lost our fellows and our families. All of us pay a price for our strength and defiance against nature. Let the names of the heroes be recorded for all time to remember their sacrifice. In the end, we will join our friends, but for now, let us put their souls to rest in the heavens.>”

The final flower was placed, and Caius said,

“<Goodbye, my son.>”

The painful memory wracked through Caius. More painful memories threatened to surface of his only son and heir to his throne, but he suppressed it in favor of continuing on his journey.

However, a horn blew. It was not like other horns Caius was familiar with. He knew the horns to signal certain occasions, but he couldn’t quite place what that particular horn’s purpose was.

He about-faced and proceeded with all his speed back to his office when the sudden realization hit him.
It was the horn signalling an attack from rogue dragons.

“<MOVE IT, YOU RATS!>”

Legionnaires were scrambling to outfit themselves, while servants and the young auxiliaries were also dashing to and fro to help with the preparations.

Centurion Quintus Coruncanius Pavo was yelling in an effort to hurry along the process, in the process of putting on his armor himself.

“<AUXILIARIES! GET ON THE SCORPII!>”

Some lightly-armored auxiliaries broke from helping their comrades and ran out of the stoneworks barracks. Few auxiliaries remained to help outfitting. Tying knots on the armor, fastening leather armor, double-checking the layout and integrity of the steel of the armor; everybody struggled to ready themselves physically and mentally for the rogue dragons.

Quintis himself was finally fitted and readied himself. He stormed out and looked around.

Numberless amounts of soldiers and civilians alike were scrambling to their sections and stations and shelters. All had planned for such an event, but an attack by actual rogue dragons almost came once in a blue moon.

But the records showed that the kingdoms paid a terrible price each time rogue dragons made a visit. Quintus winced at the thought, but he went to his respective station.

Sprinting down cobbled streets, Quintus mentally prepared himself for his task. He was to direct the home legion in the defense of his homeland and the Kingdoms of Man.

Nearing his destination, he scaled the steps up to the top of the wall. The same wall that protected him as a child was now being manned by him to protect the city and the children of today.

Scorpii were lined along the wall atop little outcropping alcoves, built of the hardest possible materials available for the defense. Several auxiliaries were already readying the scorpii for action. There was just one thing missing.

“<Where are the Ligia Guard?>”

“<Behind you.>”

Spinning around, Quintis saw the very men he had just shouted out for. The men of the Ligia Guard wore their iconic but still strange armor, rated to stop arrows and the like. Quintis then saw his defensive legionnaires rushing up the stairs to take up action stations themselves. Quintis turned back to the head of the Guardsmen and addressed him.

“<Right. We’ll need the heavy munitions to take out those rogue dragons.>”

The man nodded, and turned to his duty, but Quintis stopped him by saying,

“<And stop sneaking up from behind me. It’s unsettling, and I can’t tell how you do that.>”

The Guardsman just smiled and walked off. Quintis shook his head and went about organizing the defense better.

“Ha! Do you see them down there, Zhath?”

“Why, yes, Aybth. I see the human animals down there!”

The boisterous, booming voices of Zhath and Aybth the dragons reached the rest of the flight, which annoyed the rest of the flight to no end. However, their banter was brief, as was the instruction that came from them.

“Right. You lot, attack that wall there. Aybth, Ierreth, Dreuth, and I will go eat the so-called Kings of Men. Now let’s show these upstarts what we can do!”

“<Sire, four dragons are breaking off! They’re headed for the palace!>”

Pandemonium broke out in the street over the news of the dragon’s apparent intent. Rogue dragon attacks never really had a goal other than to attack the city. These dragons were moving with purpose, and that terrified everyone. Still, the capital of the kingdoms needed to be defended.

Quintis coordinated the loading of all the giant scorpii turrets and the aiming of same towards the approaching dragons. Special bolts, provided by the Ligia Guard, were loaded and readied to fire. He could only hope that the palace guard would be sufficient to hold off four dragons. He then remembered that the four kings were there, and that was enough to silence his fear.

Despite his boisterous and arrogant behavior, Thath was no fool He had attempted such a attack before, and nearly got killed when he rampaged throughout the town. No, he had to cut the head off the collective snake. 3 other dragons were probably not necessary, seeing as he was exceptionally strong--

Why are those ones getting closer?

A little while earlier, the palace grounds were flooded with soldiers from every kingdom, where they readied their defense the best they can. However, Caius was still, clad in armor and holding a broadsword. If he was to die, let if be with a sword in his hand.

“<Emporius Caius!>”

Caius then turned to see his fellow kings and friends, Konrik Dain and Arnax Cosmas.

Dain was clad with his his royal plate armor and helmet, intricate designs carefully crafted and forged together to fit his dimensions and build. Cosmas wore his classical armor, steel cuirass and crimson crested helm, which had bronze paste painstakingly painted over to emulate a classical feel of the bronze era of the kingdoms. They all had their kingly broadswords strapped to their hips, sharpened and readied for kingly combat.

Caius grinned, as it was good to see friends in such stressing times. Caius approached Dain and Cosmas and patted their shoulders. He then said to them,

“<Friends! It is good to fight with you.>”

Caius sighed, then said,

“<Even if we are to fight to the last.>”

Dain smiled, and said back to Caius,

“<Do not worry, Emporius. We shall be immortalized like all the heroes you’ve honored.>”

Cosmas interjected, saying,

“<Fellows, I have some good to tell. We have been granted the power of mana, my friends.>”

Cosmas then pulled out several vials of glowing blue liquid. The energy seemed to pulsate with a life of its own. Caius and Dain stared in surprise at the vials, but Caius said to Cosmas,

“<No effort shall be spared in the defense of the Kingdoms.>”

Cosmas nodded and handed out two vials. Both men took them, and then everyone raised their glass. After a pause, the three kings uncorked and unceremoniously downed the contents of their vials. They then dropped their vials to shatter on the ground, while the effects of the mana kicked in.

Minds become focused. Muscles loosened and becomes more dense. The minds of the kings were focused on one thing: becoming stronger for the upcoming fight. Using the magic that coursed through their veins, they became ready. And then they jumped straight up towards the oncoming threat with a collective cry of,

“<Higher!>”

The three forms that rapidly approached the dragons drew their broadswords. The four dragons that descended bared their teeth and roared. Slight gurgling sounds cut them off the dragons as fire spewed from their maws. Fire engulfed the kings, but, to the dragon’s utter surprise, the humans soared right through unscathed. Then they noticed the way the kings’ eyes glowed bright white. The dragons flinched.

Caius, Cosmas, and Dain collided with Aybth, Dreuth, and Ierreth. Swords plunged into armored necks by the magic-infused strength of the kings. The stricken dragons roared out in pain and shook their horned heads violently. Three kings fought to remain on their swords, buried halfway in the scales. Dragons snapped their jaws at the offending creatures, but the kings remained steadfast on their swords. Cosmas was the first to wrap his legs around Abyth’s neck, and he pulled the sword out, allowing a trinkle to become a stream. Blood flowed easily through the broad gap the sword had created. In panic and in pain, Abyth grasped at the wound, pressing down on it. Cosmas had other ideas. He jabbed the sword at a higher point along Abyth’s neck, and Cosmas righted himself on Abyth’s neck. Cosmas then shouted,

“<I expected greater from the lords of fire!>”

Cosmas raised his sword high and struck Abyth deep, severing the nervous system. Cosmas would not to get to celebrate his newest kill, however, as Zhath’s powerful jaws snapped around Cosmas, crushing and skewering him.

Zhath broke away from the dying Abyth and dropped his kill. Zhath then turned to the other dragons. He spotted Dain grappling with Dreuth. Before Zhath’s eyes, Dreuth’s jaws snapped around Dain’s left leg, lifting him and the sword away from his neck. A pang of pain shot through Dreuth, but he squeezed his eyes shut and shook Dain violently. Dain’s prosthetic left leg broke off from the force, sending the rest of Dain above Dreuth’s head. Dain reacted and pointed the sword at Dreuth’s skull. Dain’s steel found its mark, and Dreuth’s life was instantly extinguished. However, without proper footing, Dain slipped off Dreuth’s head and plummeted toward the ground. Zhath then pursued the falling king, and, with a slap of Zhath’s tail, sent the stunned king in a fatal fast course for the ground.

Zhath turned to see Caius chop off Ierreth’s wing. Ierreth screeched while falling uncontrollably, clutching what remained of the dragon’s right wing. Caius then leaped off of the dying Ierreth and shot straight towards Zhath. The dragon snorted, then flared his chest to show off his scaly defense that had made a mockery of anything that had attacked him previously. Why would this be any different?

The sword sank into the dragon’s armor, going deep but proving ineffective. Zhath practically roared a deep chuckle as he seized Caius in his talons. Bringing Caius to eye-level. Zhath asked of Caius,

“Do you really believe you can defeat an elder dragon, little ‘king’?”

Caius’s eyes flashed brighter, and he simply roared back,

“Vae stulto draconi!”

With newfound strength, Caius wrenched himself free of the grip of Zhath, and he half-kicked, half-stepped on the hilt of his sword, providing just the right amount of force needed to drive the imbedded sword deep enough to pierce the heart of the dragon.

Ztath gasped, then went slack as his draconic strength failed him. Caius had exerted himself too hard fighting and his magic strength left him, leaving him to fall alongside the dragon. Caius sighed, and closed his eyes. At least he had saved Regnator Liga, whom the kingdoms would need in the coming tide. After all, people can flock to one leader more readily than they could four.

He thought of family, and then it was all over.

A tall mirror stood in Princess Celestia’s bedchambers. Its obvious purpose was known to everypony: it was for Princess Celestia whenever she wanted to gaze at herself, of course. Its not-so-obvious purpose was only known to the Princess, and that purpose was communication.

So when the gems embedded in the oval frame of the mirror shone a bright white and hummed a solid tone, Princess Celestia got up from one of her seats and cast a unique spell on the mirror. She then looked into it as the sound and light dissipated.

It was a man, wrinkles cutting impossibly deep into his face. A face that Princess Celestia had known for quite some time. The man managed a smile and said, “Greetings, Princess.”

Princess Celestia smiled and said back, “Hello, Regnator.”

Regnator smiled back and loosened up somewhat. He then said, “How long must it have been since I was but a stranger to you?”

Celestia giggled, then said, “Too long, friend.”

Regnator dropped the smile, and then sighed. He then told Celestia, “It never would seem to end, would it?”

Celestia also dropped her smile, and asked, “Reg?”

Regnator laughed weakly and said, “If I had a bit for every time you called me that...”

Celestia grew more concerned and asked, “Reg, what’s wrong?”

Regnator then said, “We’ve been attacked by an organized pack of young dragons.”

An attack this soon?

Regnator continued, “ We’ve lost... so much, Celestia.”

Celestia grew more concerned and asked, “H-How much, Reg?”

Regnator said, “The kings are dead, Celestia.”

Celestia gasped. One King of Man was bad enough, but all of them?

Regnator continued, “But this is not all.”

Celestia listened attentively as Regnator continued. “We have also lost the mana garden and mana stores. They were destroyed in the attack, along with the homes of many. Many of those who dwelt there also perished. They are homeless now.”

Celestia gulped then said fearfully, “But you do have mana left, don’t you?”

He shook his head, then said, “I gave away my last potions for the defense. It seemed to have found its way into the hands of the kings. They died in the defense, their inexperience with the body-enhancing magic of mana proving fatal. Those bottles should have instead gone to those who actually had trained to use them, d--”

Regnator then had a coughing fit, racking his old body. He then seemed contemplative. He said, “Perhaps this is for the best.”

Celestia could only ask, “What?”

Regnator then replied by saying, “It’s about time to pass the torch, Celestia. It’s been a good run, but...”

Celestia cut in, saying, “No, don’t say that, Reg. We can still-”

Regnator cut Celestia off, then said, “Celestia. It is the end of an era, make no mistake. I may be sustained by distilled magic, but I am beginning to suspect that my body isn’t suitable for immortality.”

Regnator then had another coughing fit, growing visibly weaker. He then continued, “I’m also beginning to suspect that immortality is a song and dance unfit for men.”

Celestia gripped the frame of the mirror with her hooves and said, “Reg, this ‘song and dance’ is not suitable for any of us, yet we will perform. Please... won’t you stay?”

Regnator pressed one of his aged hands to the mirror, and Celestia mirrored Regnator’s action. Regnator then said, “Celestia... I’ve danced and I’ve sung with you for a long time now. Yet I can’t anymore. My voice grows faint, and my body grows weak. It’ll take a while for the mana garden to make more potions, yet I don’t have that long. Celestia... after all our adventures, our close calls, and our time together... I’m finally dying.”

In that instant, Princess Celestia would have given up her kingdom just to be able to hold Regnator one more time. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her mouth quivered as she pressed her face into the glass. Regnator mirrored her action, also longing for one last moment. They held this position for what seemed like forever, then Regnator finally said,

“Goodbye, my Princess of the Sun.”

With that, he collapsed out of view of the mirror. Princess Celestia wept.

Earlier that day...

Regnator Ligia addressed the people.

“<My friends, today we mark the death of Emporius Caius, Konrik Dain, and Arnax Comsas. They and countless others have fallen in the attack that transpired just a short while ago. While they die for the safety of us all, let us live for the safety of us all.>”

A short coughing fit shook Regnator, and he continued his speech.

“<Let me amend that. Let you live for the safety for us all.>

The crowd of soldiers and civilians murmured, but Regnator continued.

“<A new page in the history of man is about to be written, my kin. However, it will not be written by me.>”

The murmur grow exponentially until Fatum withdrew something from his coat and fired several shots into the air.

The silence after the shots was almost as deafening as the gun itself. Regnator said,

“<I can no longer lead you, my people. You must choose your own future now, because I can’t be there to lend my guiding hand. However, while I’m still around, I can still serve my kingdom by proclaiming thus:>”

He motioned aside, and an aide with a scroll stepped up, and read with a booming voice,

“<The laws and decrees have been modified by High King Regnator Ligia. By decree he has instituted the following:

Sanction limiting advanced machining to the Ligia Guard: Lifted.

Sanction limiting research and development to the Ligia Guard: Lifted.

Sanction limiting the use of mana potions and mana flower growing to the Ligia Guard: Lifted.>”

Regnator cut in, saying, “<But that’s not all.>”

The aide rolled his eyes, but continued, to the stunned silence of the populace

“< In additions, the following decrees are in effect:

The Legions of Reme are hereby merged with the Ligia Guard. All Legionnaires are now under the jurisdiction of the guard, and the command structure will also merge to manage the new Legions of the Guard.

In addition, the Armored Wall of Laceda are hereby merged with the Ligia Guard. All Hoplites of the Armored Wall are now under Ligia Guard’s jurisdiction, and the command structure of the Armored Wall is now merged with the Guard’s command structure to better manage the Hoplites of Laceda.

Finally, the Order of Abraxas are hereby merged with the Ligia Guard. All Knights of Abraxas are now under the jurisdiction of the Guard, and the command structure of the Order of Abraxas are to merge also with the Guard.>”

Regnator chuckled and said, “<And that’s still not all.>”

The aide sighed forcibly, then said,

“<Furthermore, this aide is to become... Commander-In-Chief... of the kingdom’s armed forces, and leader of... domestic issues.>”

The aide then turned to Regnator and asked in a hushed voice, “<My King, I must protest. I...>”

Regnator hushed the aide, then said, “<All that I’ve taught you will come in handy here. After all, you are the newest child of my line, Fatum Ligia.>”

Fatum grimaced and said, “<But, my King...>”

Regnator laughed and then said, “<No amount of crying will get you out of this. Also, consider me retired, which means I’m no longer King. You are. Congratulations.>”

Fatum grew frustrated and said, “<But... one does not simply retire from Kingship... my King.>”

Regnator pointed to the scroll that Fatum held and said sternly, “<You’re ready. Now, read the last item on the list.>”

Fatum looked down and read aloud to the populace.

“< The last item of business is the banner of the Kingdoms. With these many changes being made... it becomes necessary to adopt a new banner to signify this. Where we were divided before....>”

A black banner arose, with a white cross maltese on it.

“<This banner shall now reflect our unity.>”

Regnator stepped forward and said aloud,

“<My dying wish is that this kingdom of man remain unified. Unified against a foe that we all know is coming. The Kobolds, the Goblins, the Dragons, the Griffons, the Minotaurs, and the Diamond Dogs are all coming. They seem to be unified in their efforts to destroy us. Let us show them that we are more united in the purpose of survival then they are.>”

Present time...

Orator and Marce sat in Orator’s personal quarters on a commissioned frigate, minds heavy with thought and bellies heavy with hot food. Their troops were equally heavy, as comfortable as they were in their own quarters. Orator had just received a message from the kingdoms detailing the attack and the new situation that they were now subject to. These rapid series of events were still being processed by the men, and they kept their thoughts to themselves for a brief moment, their silence being punctuated by the sounds of a ship at sea.

Orator finally broke the silence aboard and said, leaning back in his chair,

“<Do you think that Fatum’s ready to rule?>”

Marce sighed, then said, rubbing his face in contemplation,

“<He’s the distant descendant of the greatest leader that the Kingdoms have ever had. He has been trained since birth in the ways of diplomacy and the sword. He has also been trained in the arts, the histories, and all the knowledge that we can offer him. He has also been personally been tutored by Regnator himself, whose wisdom matches his agelessness. He should know all the tricks in the book.>”

Marce leaned forward in his rickety seat, holding his hands on the table. He then said,

“<Orator, I have no idea.>”

Fatum burst into Regnator’s personal quarters, and said in an almost-shouting voice, “<My King! What is...>”

That’s when he saw a prone Regnator at the base of a tall, oval mirror. Princess Celestia was still in the mirror, trying to compose herself. Fatum then hurried over and cradled Regnator in his arms. He spoke softly, "<M-My King...>”

Princess Celestia noticed the newcomer, and asked through misty eyes, “R-Reg?”

Fatum composed himself and said, “My name is Fatum Ligia, Princess.”

Celestia’s eyes widened in surprise. She had spoke to Fatum as a boy. Now, he seemed just like Regnator... Celestia shook herself from her thoughts and asked, “Is he...?”

Fatum nodded solemnly. Celestia nearly broke down again, but asked Fatum, “So, are you his...”

Fatum answered factually, “I’m among his 60th generation.”

Celestia then stared at Fatum for a moment, studying his young features. So, Regnator had lived through 60 generations of his family line, witnessing his children and their children grow up and die in succession? She didn’t know if she could live through that. Evidently, Regnator had. Celestia then asked Fatum, “So, you are the heir?”

Fatum nodded. He looked up at Celestia, then said, “Regnator’s made a lot of changes before passing, changes I’m now having to implement. My father and my father’s fathers and their fathers were always under Regnator’s shadow, and now suddenly it seems I’ve been thrust into the light now that his shadow’s gone.”

Celestia looked down at Regnator, then back to Fatum. She said, “And now you’re afraid of being blinded and burned now that his control is lost.”

Fatum stated simply, “Yes. I know I’ve taken the lessons, studied our vast history... but--”

Fatum struggled to contain his composure as he continued, “b-but what if I can’t lead? I don’t know how to sustain a marching army, or how to handle being King, I...”

Celestia cut in and said, “Don’t worry, Fatum. I’ve been leading kingdoms as long as he has. I can help.”

Fatum looked into Celestia’s eyes and found himself calming down. He knew that Regnator had confided in Princess Celestia, and now he felt that he could confide in her, too. They both bore the same sad smile on their faces.

Princess Twilight Sparkle fidgeted in her seat at a restaurant in Ponyville. She was deep in thought as she noticed the increased amounts of guards patrolling the streets. Everypony else (and dragon) was watching the seclusive Twilight with worried interest. Finally, Applejack gently shook Twilight from her stupor as she said, “Hey, Equestria to Twilight.”

Twilight finally regarded Applejack and said, “Hmm?”

Applejack then said to Twilight, “You feeling okay, sugarcube?”

Twilight huffed, and then said, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got lots of things to think about.”

Applejack nodded. “Yessiree, we’ve got a right mess on our hooves. What with the mess in the east brewing up, and more excitement back home...”

Applejack then glanced to the road, where a pair of ponies wore heavy silver armor of the Equestrian Defense Force patrolled.

Applejack then continued, “... it’s going to be a mighty interestin’ couple of weeks, that’s for sure.”

Twilight and the girls concurred. Twilight said, “I’m also anxious because we had to give up our Elements of Harmony to the Tree of Harmony, which means now that Equestria must depend on a more... conventional means of defense.”

The girls and Spike then watched as the pair of soldiers rounded a corner. They all sighed, and Rainbow Dash blurted, “Hey, Twilight, how much of a chance do you think these guys have? I-I mean, they can stand against the Griffons, a-and the Minotaurs, and all those guys, right?”

Fluttershy nervously added in, “D-Don’t forget the D-Dragons.” She then hid behind her mane with a squeak.

Rarity then cut in by saying, “Those brutish Kobolds and Goblins are unorganized and barbaric.”

Applejack then said with a raised eyebrow, “How’d you come to that idea, Rarity?”

Rarity then looked to her wide-eyed friends. “I am a fashion designer. It is good practice to look for good fashion trends everywhere, even in such cultures as the Kobolds and the Goblins. Juuust in case they happen to be the next week’s fashion.”

Rarity sipped from her tea. As she noticed the confused eyes that were set on her, she cleared her throat and said, “Which, now that I’ve seen what their fashion looks like, I very much doubt.”

Everypony giggled. Twilight looked up to see Lyra Heartstring of all ponies wearing adventuring gear along with heavy-laden bags. Twilight called out, “Lyra!”

Lyra walked over to where Twilight and her friends sat and said, “Hello, Princess. I was just on my way out of town. What’s up?”

Twilight then said, “I can see that, Lyra. Where are you going?”

Lyra motioned to her saddlebags and said, “I’m about to go on an expedition.”

Everypony looked at each other, then Twilight asked, “Well, where are you going, exactly?”

Lyra grinned, then said, “I’m going to help chart the Kingdoms of Man!”

Many spittakes were nearly had. Lyra’s little outburst had been heard by a lot of passersby, which attracted looks. Lyra didn’t seem to notice, and she continued. “Fancy Pants is pulling everything together! I’ll be able to map regions, encounter new flora and fauna, and clear up the rumors on the existence of other tribes of men!”

Twilight asked, “There’s more of them?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out!”

She then reared up onto her hind legs and said, “So excited!”

A train whistle shot through the air. Lyra blurted out a quick farewell and ran off toward the train station.

Applejack waited a moment, then asked Twilight, “What’s this about other tribes, Twilight?”

“First I’ve heard of them... wait.”

Twilight shot off after Lyra.

Lyra was just about to board the train when she was stopped by Twilight calling out, “Waaaiit!”

Twilight caught her breath for a moment before asking, “What’s this about other tribes?”

Lyra then said, “Well, they’re considered barbarians by the more ‘civilized’ kingdoms, but they do exist.”

“How do you know this?”

Lyra then replied, saying “I went into their camp and asked about it. I also know that--”

The train whistle sounded off again, so Lyra immediately jumped into the train, saying, “I’ll tell you later! Have a good one!”

The train doors closed, and the train left the station. Twilight fumed for a second, because she forgot to drill these visitors for information.

Opportunities can come later. Right now, I need to finish lunch.

She walked back to the restaurant, where the ponies and Spike were finishing up their respective lunches. They walked out to meet Twilight, and they agreed to meet in Twilight’s tree home. Upon arrival, they made themselves comfortable. There, Twilight sighed and said, “So, tribes.”

Rainbow Dash asked, “So yeah, what’s the deal with that? There’s more of these huemies now? I thought there were just these kingdoms, or something.”

Twilight replied, “It’s news to me, Dash. Maybe the Princesses would have more information. Spike?”

Spike just pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment and said, “Already on it.”

Scribbling furiously, Spike wrote a letter to Celestia as Twilight dictated and asked about the humans. Spike sent it off in a burst of green flame. Moments later, a reply came in a burst of flame. Twilight read off the letter.

“Dear Princess Twilight,

It is good to hear that you would like more information on this, and as it so happens, I have a tome that contains information you might need. It’s very old, so I would ask that you would please handle it with care.

Your dear friend,

Princess Celestia.”

Spike doubled over and held his gut in discomfort. Twilight and Fluttershy flocked over to Spike and held him up as the strenuous delivery took its toll. Fluttershy softly told Spike, “Deep breaths, Spike. Like we’ve practiced.”

Spike then stood up on his own and tilted his head high, trying his best to safely reintegrate the book. Finally, he burped, but the tome just jutted out of his mouth. Twilight took the tome from Spike and laid it down on the table. Twilight Sparkle then opened the tome and dug into the aged contents.

As Twilight swam through the schematics and their descriptions and explanations, one thing became clear.

This is a history of the military of mankind. These detail the hoplites, legionnaires, and the knights that served (and still serve) in the kingdom’s armies. But why would these guys have such distinctive brands of warriors?

She then looked over the histories of the kingdoms, and she found the answer to her question.

Because the kingdoms were small in their infancy and grew on their own without contact from the other kingdoms, at first. That means they came up with their own style of infantry. But why wouldn’t they standardize it after they stopped fighting?

She then looked over the histories of the individual kingdoms. After they unified, their cultures more or less merged, but their pride for their warriors remained, and their respective militaries meant that they remained consistent.

Doesn’t seem like there’s room for innovation in their pride for their classical weaponry. The large shields favored by the Hoplites and the Legionnaires was probably a result of the Laceda and Remas kingdoms encountering each other before they encountered the kingdom of Abraxas. Wait, let’s look at the specifics.

Twilight then looked over the schematics of the equipment for the Legions of Remas.

Large rectangular shields to be used in tandem with a small stabbing sword, called Scutum and Gladius respectively. Fascinating. I remember the minotaur race favoring large weapons over personal defense.

Twilight’s attention was drawn to the present when Applejack asked her something. Twilight said, “Hmm?”

Applejack repeated herself. “You alright, sugarcube?”

Twilight smiled and said, “Oh, yes. I’m just... fascinated by these.”

Rainbow Dash spoke up and said, “Yeah, Twilight, but why?”

“It’s because the warriors of the Kingdoms of Man like to wear heavy armor and use large shields. It’s a far cry from the other factions they’ll be facing. Minotaurs, for example, use heavy two-handed weapons but shun armor because they consider it a cowardice, while on the other hand...hoof... we’ve got-”
Rainbow Dash then cut in by saying, “I know this is totally interesting and all, but... why are you of all ponies interested?”

Twilight looked around, then said, “I make it my business to know about information that could prove critical. And now, it has. As I was saying, we’ve also got the goblins, who only wear old chainmail at best and rudimentary iron weapons they make themselves. The better they can make their weapons, the more powerful and prestigious they are.”

Rainbow Dash again cut in and said, “The Griffons are primarily skirmishers with heavy javelins, steel crossbows, and yew longbows. They can fly up to the cloud layer when they need to take cover.”

She noticed all the eyes on her, so she said, “I do learn about... things. Gilda can be a little patriotic, sometimes. We talk about all sort of things.”

Twilight continued, “Kobolds, now, wear light armor and employ rather... unorthodox weapons.”

Rainbow Dash asked, “Well, why?”

Twilight Sparkle said, “They... I guess mainly use gunpowder weapons, which is odd considering how inaccurate and noisy and generally not useful as weapons of war they are.”

She paused, then said, “Well... I’ve heard rumors of a weapon called a musket which sounds really good. Never seen one up close, though.”

Meanwhile...

Lyra Heartstrings stepped off of the Canterlot train station, chipper and cheery and ready for adventure. She walked through the streets of Canterlot to the Fancypants residence. Once she finally found the place, she knocked at the door.

These pseudo-mansions all look the same to me.

The door opened, and...

Daring Do was at the door.

“Are you Lyra Heartstrings?”

Lyra then realized she was staring with wide eyes and an open mouth. She quickly nodded, and Daring stepped aside and invited her in with a gesture. Lyra quickly stepped inside, and Daring shut the door. Inside, Lyra found Fancy Pants standing next to some bags of his own with a clipboard in his telekinetic grip. Fancy noticed Lyra and moved to greet her. He said, “Ah, Miss Heartstrings. I’m so glad you could come.”

Daring laid down on one of the extravagant couches with a disinterested look. Fancy then said, “I am also glad you could come on our little expedition to the human lands. I’m sure it’s going to be very informative.”

Daring Do rolled her eyes. Lyra said, “Do we have any more ponies in this expedition?”

Fancy Pants said, “Hmmm, I’m afraid not. It’ll just be the three of us in uncharted, dangerous wilderness.”

Daring blew a raspberry. “Big deal. I’ve been in unexplored wilderness in my time. Why do you insist that this will be any different?”

“Because, Miss Do, it’s the only unmapped wilderness left. Here, let me show you.”

He then pulled out a map, then unfurled it and presented it to Lyra.

“As you can plainly see here, Miss Lyra and Miss Do, the human lands are the only real unknown frontier left. I’m sure they have maps of their own, but it just isn’t the same when you don’t do your own surveying. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Lyra had to unfocus from Fancypant’s handsome form and said, “Why, yes. After our first encounter, I just had to learn more. I think this might be the only way to do it.”

Fancypants nodded and said, “I understand, Miss Lyra. I’m also yearning to learn more. Aha, I’m sorry. I haven’t properly introduced you to-”

Daring got up and shook Lyra’s hoof. She said, “Save it, Fancypants. Name’s Daring Do.”

Lyra then said, “Nice to meet you, Miss Do. I’m Lyra Heartstrings.”

Daring narrowed her eyes, let go of Lyra’s hoof, and said to Fancypants, “I’m only doing this because I owe you. After this, I’d like you to stop doing me favors.”

Looking between Daring Do and Fancypants, Lyra just wondered what she’d gotten herself into.

It was evening at a lonely port on the coast of Griffonia. A foggy evening, just like any other. Griffons and other assorted creatures shuffled about on their daily routines, then a lone frigate came into the dock. This was not unusual. The light-yellow pegasus with a greyed mane and beard was a regular visitor to this place, being a ferrypony. This was also not unusual. What was unusual, however, was a rather large group of Griffon soldiers flying immediately onto it.

The lead Griffon, a rather big brown one with black feathers on his head and wings, clambered over to the aged pegasus captain in his heavy armor, and nearly shouted,

“I am Lieutenant Buzzbeak and the passengers are under arrest. Give them up peacefully, or we will take action, old pony.”

Several hours earlier...

“Hmmpffh. So you say war has been declared?”

“Yes. We should expect a fight when we dock.”

“I’d rather not risk the ship excessively, thank you.”

...

"You have lifeboats, right?”

Present...

“Raagh!’

Buzzbeak had this one chance at a promotion, and it had just slipped past his talons. There were supposed to be those cursed humans on that frigate. That specific frigate, yet. After having the third search conducted, the pony pointed out that he couldn’t conduct any more searches due to Griffon Law.

That pony is too smart for his own good, methinks.

With the threat of an arrest hanging over his head, Leutinent Buzzbeak returned to his garrison, leaving behind some guards to watch the dock for any other humans. Blasted things either hid too well, or somehow cloaked themselves from the eyes of the Griffons. That would not surprise Buzzbeak, given the remarkable amount of conflicting scuttlebutt about the humans. One moment, they were a force of unrivalled power, the next, they were little better than dirt. Buzzbeak didn’t know what to believe. Buzzbeak looked around his office, then settled in for a night’s work.

Paperwork again. It’s always more paperwork around here.

“Everybody ready?”

Rowboats that were supposed to be used for emergencies only were arranged in a straight line, ropes dangling along the formation. Oars slowly and silently churned the dark ocean water, nearing the lights of the town that was obscured slightly by the fog. After having gone into the lifeboats, the light of the frigate had guided this convoy until the sound of wingbeats was heard. All lifeboats immediately stopped, as per the plan. The front boat had Orator and Marcus riding in it, having made themselves battle-ready. The men in the boats behind likewise also had readied themselves for a fight. Soon, a message was passed down the line.

“<Ready yourselves. We are to take provisions for a safe voyage back to Equestria, slay the local guard, and only that.>”

The decision was not made lightly, but Orator and Marce calculated that if they proceeded with their original plan of simply fleeing back to their homelands, they would lose more than half their command to the constant fighting and hard marching required to make it back. Therefore, the decision was made to go back to Equestria, but the provisions aboard the frigate were not sufficient. They hatched a sneaky plan.

A plan that seems to be proceeding smoothly thus far. The men heard the wingbeats again and, after a time, the sound of a lone flute in the docked frigate.

That was the signal. All the men pulled on the long, thick rope securing them to the frigate. The silence was broken only by the waves and the sound of beating of men’s hearts in their ears. Eventually, the dock came into view. The little boats rode to the port of the frigate, where the ship was secured to the dock. The aged pony captain received the men, and threw over a rope ladder. The pony then rushed to his ship, beginning preparations for a fighting departure, if necessary. Ropes and clutter was scuffled about on the ship, and men disembarked from the lifeboats, abandoning them to the waves. There was too much to be done.

Footsteps indicated the approach of a Griffon patrol. Marce pointed to the Auxiliaries, then pointed in the direction of the incoming patrol. The lightly armed and armored youth ran into the fog to slay the Griffons. Upon sighting them, they threw their javelins. Practice and luck meant that they hit their mark, and four Griffons collapsed onto the dock, the heavy javelins awkwardly jutting out of them. Making sure to keep everyone together, Marce and Orator then began phase two. The Legionnaires took point, their thick soles clattering on the dock. The Auxiliaries retrieved their javelins, Auxiliary Attius among them. He took his blade and sunk it into the neck of the Griffon he had felled with his javelin. Looking into the face of the Griffon for a moment, he could not help but feel a pang of guilt at what he had done. He had slain monsters before, but this was like slaying a man. He was shaken from his thoughts by the Legion progressing, and his training and duty took over. He joined the formation of friends and brothers-in-arms. He would need their collective strength to last through the night.

The Legion, as silently as they could, approached the garrison, slaying any griffon they saw, including unarmed Griffons. Had they spotted the legion, they would’ve raised the alarm. In this they justified their actions. Their destination was the city garrison. The faster they could complete this objective of eliminating possible pursuers and get out, the better.

Making sure to remain quiet, the Legion progressed.

Boring, boring paperwork. Buzzbeak got up from his desk and worked his idle muscles. He circled the room a few times in contemplation. He then sat down and had another look at the papers, hoping something would make itself clearer to him. Frustrated, he worked long into the night.

*Thunk*

Until he collapsed fast asleep onto his desk, that is.

The Pawport City Garrison was finally in sight. No man knew how many griffons were inside, so a careful advance was ordered. The young Auxiliaries went first, and Attius was on point.

Peeking around the corner, Attius spotted two griffons acting as guards. He looked to his pals and mustered his courage. He jumped around the corner and threw his javelin, the other Auxiliaries following suit. The guards slumped over, several javelins jutting out of them. Some javelins missed their mark and impaled into the wall. The Auxiliaries rushed to the guards and recovered their javelins. Then they entered the Garrison Campus. Rushing towards cover, the Auxiliaries took stock of the situation. They could see buildings that could be the mess hall, or the barracks, or even the armory, but they weren’t sure which building was which. Attius ran outside and tapped his shield. After the legionnaires walked up, Attius said,

“There’s no activity inside the garrison. Want to sweep the barracks?”

Legionnaire Primus grinned, then said,

“It would be our pleasure. Legionnaires, on me. I’m on point.”

Legionnaire Primus, as per his namesake, was first into the line of long buildings. Attius heard some dark chuckling, then the sounds of struggle, with the occasional sound of a gladius hitting its mark. Attius shook off the dread he was feeling and progressed to what looked to be an officer’s cabin, if the decorations and flags were any indication.

Attius approached the structure and pressed his ear to the door. Nothing. Either the enemy was in wait or was unaware of the attack occurring. Both warranted a slow approach. He tested the door. It was locked.

So much for that.

With a grunt, Attius bashed the door down. No one in the lobby. Attius charged up the stairs. A griffon guard with a spear appeared. The guard “BW’AK”d in surprise, but then thrust his spear at Attius. Attius bashed aside the spear out of the guard’s clutch, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. The griffon only had enough time to give a look of disbelief before Attius drove his javelin into the guard’s heart. The griffon guard fell to the ground, clutching desperately for a means to save himself. Attius silenced the griffon with a swift stab from his knife, then proceeded.

*BANG*

Buzzbeak got up with a start. Those clumsy guards were up to no good again. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and he heard more scuffling and banging. Buzzbeak got up to deal with partying griffons again, and was startled to see a human advancing past a downed griffon.

Training taking over, Buzzbeak unsheathed his cutlass and swiped at the sneaky little mammal. The human ducked under the strike and punched Buzzbeak with his small shield. Buzzbeak recoiled, then backed from the quick jab from the human’s knife. Buzzbeak then jabbed at the human with his own weapon. The human backed away, and readied his shield.

Seems like a decent strike will destroy it, and the hand underneath.

Buzzbeak raised his sword for a downward strike. The human backed away further. Buzzbeak then leaped forward and swung. Buzzbeak put all he had into the swing. The human leveled his shield, so the cutlass was deflected at an angle. The human jabbed at Buzzbeak’s sword arm, but he withdrew.

Both combatants backed off, each having reached an impasse. Buzzbeak saw the human reach behind him, withdrawing a javelin. With a warcry, Buzzbeak charged at the human, preparing a stab. The human hastily threw the javelin, and it fell wide of the target. Buzzbeak pumped his wings once to gain extra momentum. This would surely end the fight, with him as the victor. The human ducked, but the sword nicked his shoulder. Then the human did something Buzzbeak didn’t anticipate.

Attius had invested into a dangerous game, one which he hoped would pay off. He had dropped his knife and his shield and had tried to duck under the griffon’s sword. Just before the griffon went to the other side of him, Attius grabbed the griffon by the midsection and pinned him to the ground. Then began a fierce wrestling brawl. The two tumbled about as they threw punches and kicks at each other. They clawed at each other, leaving marks in the other. The officer griffon had abandoned his sword and was fighting for his life, as was Attius. The two even resorted to biting each other, drawing blood from the other.

Eventually the tussle paused when the griffon officer pinned Attius. The griffon spied the knife of the human auxiliary, and grasped it. The officer then stabbed downwards. Attius barely caught the griffon’s wrists. The knife was aimed at Attius’ face, and it was all he could do to prevent his own knife to strike down its lifelong owner. Attius pondered the irony of fighting off his own knife for a heartbeat; just then, he was struck with an idea. Attius forced the knife away from his face for a moment, causing the Griffon to redouble his effort. Attius then relaxed some; the sudden movement made the griffon slip. Attius then guided his knife into the gut of the officer.

Ugh.

It could not be. Buzzbeak, a proud Griffon Officer of the Skies, had been bested by this animal. Previously unimaginable pain shot through his whole body, with his gut hurting the worst.

Obviously.

Time seemed to slow for Buzzbeak as he fell from his position onto the floor. In his state, it seemed that the young man took his time in recovering. He then clambered on top of Buzzbeak, rage overtaking the animal’s face. The human withdrew the knife from the guts of Buzzbeak, even more pain somehow overtaking Buzzbeak’s consciousness, along with the worst sensation of his lifeblood oozing from him.

That was soon the least of his worries, though. The human drove the knife down again and again, striking Buzzbeak in random places. Buzzbeak was too much in shock at this point to resist, so he gave in to the blackness that encroached his vision.

Attius finally decided that he had stabbed the griffon enough times, and slid off. He inspected his shoulder.

That’ll have to be patched up immediately.

He then looked to the dead griffon which he had just fought. His beak was open, but his eyes were shut. It almost looked peaceful, if it weren’t for the multiple stab wounds. Attius chuckled, then said to the griffon, partially mocking,

“<Was that as good for you as it was for me?>”

He laughed heartily, then went on his way.

“Graaaaawaaaargh!”

The Goblin Horde marched from the mountains, creating literal rivers of green as they piled together, all screaming for blood.

All screaming for war.

Waving crude weapons and wearing crude armor, the goblins of every shape and size descended into the plains where the Minotaur tribes dwelled, where the combined armies of the Minotaur Confederation waited to merge with them to become a massive horde.

The full combined forces of the newly-formed Coalition of Free Beings would soon however dwarf this force with the numbers their other members provided their militaries.

The Fliers of the Gryphon Kingdom.

The Kobold Rangers.

The Diamond Dog Cúnna Faoil.

And the most terrifying of them all, the newly-formed Great Dragon Crusade. Their respective target?

Mankind.

The newly-crowned Regnator pored over the map, considering many things.

The United Kingdom of Man wasn’t actually at all united, for their citadel-capital was but a part of the population of man. Various tribes were scattered in the wildernesses about, and they had proved friendly or barbaric.

Depending on the time of year, of course.

The Moenéills were mostly reasonable with their export of mana seeds, if a little extortionist. Their warlike natures should have made it easy to convince them of the necessity of their giving auxiliary troops.

However, the direbeast-riders of the Cualicoatltlaca would present a bit of a problem, seeing as their fierce isolationist and independent nature meat a military alliance would be shaky at best.

Outright war with them at worst.

Shaking off the thought, Regnator considered the other tribes.

To the extreme north, the salty frozen tribe of Magofinn would surely use the attacks as an opportunity to fill their coffers even more, so mercenaries from them wouldn’t be an issue.

Their neighbors to the east, though...

The Kalibuke mountain men were deeply spiritual and cared little for the affairs of men, as powerful as their warriors were. Perhaps Regnator could appeal to their collective sense of honor, if he could make sense of it....

Determining that, Regnator considered the tribes of the mid and far south.

The Fathuarto were nomadic traders by nature who roamed the desert on their tamed Kabegaeyas and were good friends with the Magofinns, so relations would be smooth.

However, there was one people that Regnator would prefer he didn’t have to deal with.

The Chladsutes.

Roaming the frozen wastes below, they inspired dread with the armored Dire Tyrants they somehow tamed. These creatures were massive and completely carnivorous: the people often circulate rumors that the beasts were fed by disobedient Chladsute children.

Regnator hoped that this was not the case. However, their beasts of battle could would prove useful, should an alliance be secured.

Regnator also remembered Saddle Arabia, a neighboring state of the Fathuarto. Home to both the noble horse and camel, they were masters of trade, considering their stamina.

However, the sheer size of the looming invasion would probably scare the Saddle Arabians off. They had no obligation to the Kingdoms.

As Regnator peered over the map and troop dispositions, he was unaware that the fighting had already begun.

The Moenéills and the Diamond Dogs had skirmished and sparred over mining and farming rights over the plains before... but now, two full-sized armies faced off against each other.

Diamond Dogs barked and howled on one side, showing off their spears, helmets, and shields that many Moenéills had considered stolen. Of course, the Diamond Dogs disagreed, but many travellers coming through the region considered the garb and weapon makeup of the Diamond Dog to be eerily similar to that of the Moenéills.

On the other side of the plains, the Moenéills chanted as they banged their longswords on their longshields. They waved their intricate swords and their custom-carved shields proudly. Behind them, the Moenéill nobility stood in their steel chariots, pulled by tamed, bipedal Gáelimons. Taller than a man and gangly looking, these herbivorous lizard beasts of burden were reliable and were also used by the diamond dogs to pull their own nobility in their own war chariots.

Chieftain Cú Chulainn looked down to his chariot, running his hand over the intricate designs that were welded into the steel chariot. He also regarded the elongated and sharpened spokes that jutted out from the big wheels of the chieftain’s chariot. They were to taste blood today, it seems.

Clearing his head, Cú Chulainn adjusted his heavy armor, looking down on his troops. They didn’t care to wear armor, instead favoring intricate patterns of mana paint to shield themselves. They didn’t even wear shirts, instead opting to show off their muscles in an attempt to intimidate their enemy. The patterns glowed bright blue, and Cú Chulainn took pride in his brave warriors as he looked across the field.

The diamond dog formations were almost a mirror of his own. Granted, they were using stolen mana techniques and stolen armoring and training techniques, but they were slightly impressive nonetheless.

Cú Chulainn signaled to his squire, who sounded a horn. His warriors quieted down and made themselves ready. He cleared his throat, and, with a short prayer to his ancestors, said, “Warriors of the Moenéill! Long have we regarded those dogs over there as rivals in this land, but now we can consider them enemies! They and their friends have declared war on us and those pretty city boys in the forest!”

Some murmuring began in the crowd, and Cú Chulainn said, “If ye didn’t know of this, methinks you stayed one day too long in the mines!”

That got a chuckle from his men. Grinning, he continued, “Look at them! I mean, look at them! Answer me this, boys. Have they anything they didn’t just take from us?”

The answer from his men was a resounding and a amused “No!”

Cú Chulainn’s grin widened, and he shouted,

“Have they any right to our land, our birthright?”

“No!”

“Well, then. Show them who rules these lands!”

And with another sounding of the horn, the Moenéill painted warriors charged with a roar.

The Diamond Dog warriors did likewise.

The rushing groups met in the middle, lowest point of the valley.

Iron sang aloud, and shields banged together. Men sang and screamed as Dogs howled and barked. Flashes of blue light shone through occasionally.

A dust cloud gathered over the mass of fighting and dying warriors. Cú Chulainn singled out his nephew, who was in the front lines.

Where did that rapscallion go... oh, there he is.

The nephew in question was dueling with a diamond dog at the edge of the fighting formations. Blows were traded and were received across shields, and Cú Chulainn noted with pride that the fighting classes wasn’t wasted on his remaining heir.

However, the dog got a lucky shot in, and it seemed over for young Culann. However, the attack was repulsed with a blue flash of light, and Cú Chulainn grinned.

Culann had taken to runeweaving well.

Having been unbalanced, the Dog met a grisly end at the edge of Culann’s sword. Cú Chulainn noticed his aide pointing, and he noticed the enemy chariot formation moving to flank Culann and the painted warriors. That wouldn’t do at all.

Another sound of the horn, and his own chariots were moving to intercept those curs on their chariots. The spokes whistled as they spun, and the chariots clattered as they rolled towards each other.

Cú Chulainn readied his heavy crossbow, working the long lever action and placing a bolt in the groove. The aide driving the chariot noted with a bit of dread that the lever action of such a crossbow was notoriously hard to operate, and that only men of Cú Chulainn’s caliber could operate it.

Cú Chulainn let loose the bolt, and it impacted one of the opposing Gáelimons pulling a chariot. He grinned as the resulting collapsing creature overturned the diamond dog chariot.

Shame, though. It was a perfectly good Gáelimon.

Cú Chulainn put aside his crossbow in favor of his lance. He took the reins from his aide, who picked up javelins and took occasional potshots. Cú Chulainn let loose with a roar, as did the rest of the charioteers, and the chariot formations smashed into each other.

The targets now were not each other, but the animals pulling each other. Thus, they targeted each other’s steeds with their scythes and their weapons.

Charioteers moved in front of each other to catch the powerful hind legs of the Gáelimons in their sharp spinning scythes. Charioteers also endeavored to preserve their own gáelimons, so it was a real test of skill for the combatants.

They fought, and the song of steel and agony was sung.

“I welcome you all, Members of the Equestrian Alliance. This emergency gathering has now come to order.”

Celestia faced a long chamber full of the varied races of the political coalition known as the Equestrian Alliance. How fitting, then, that all the members were quadrupeds.

“You may know by now that the Dragons have formed the Coalition of Free Beings in order to destroy the Kingdoms of Man, whom we have allied ourselves with.”

Celestia looked around to gauge everypony’s reaction.

The representative from Saddle Arabia, Hakim, just watched Celestia with the signature horse stoicism.

The representative from the Pony Triumvirate just stewed in his own thoughts. He almost seemed... remorseful?

This was uncharacteristic of the hostile trio of independent Pony City states next to Saddle Arabia. These were Equestrian colonists who, due to distance and hostile enviroment, thought it best to break away from Equestria and found their own Nations, choosing not to depend on each other, but on themselves. The three pony races had established their own cities, with the pegasi founding Rachisopia, the unicorns founding Monomerton, and the earth ponies establishing Domhanit. They exist as the ponies did before the founding of Equestria, with a loose military and economic alliance to defend themselves from the hostile environment and their neighbors, the Minotaurs and the Saddle Arabians.

Celestia knew that maintaining diplomatic relations with the Triumvirate was difficult because they never considered themselves Equestrian. They considered Celestia to be ineffectual and soft, considering she pressured for peace and harmony with their environment where the Triumvirate would prefer to burn away the Everfree-like forests where they dwelled and slay the hungry creatures instead of taming them. Their near-hostility for their neighbors came from the banditry that wandered into the Triumvirate lands from neighboring ones, looking for easy prey. The constant conflict in those lands turned those ponies from a delightsome and friendly people to a prideful and boisterous one.

Which was why Celestia was unnerved by the silence of the Triumvirate representative, Silver Tongue. She cleared her throat and said, “Equestria has already pledged herself to her allies. What say you?”

Hakim nodded and said, “Saddle Arabia will aid Equestria.”

Celestia turned to Silver Tongue. After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry, Princess. We may have had a... sufficient alliance, with your assistance. But it is not enough this time.”

Silver Tongue sighed.

“We’ve been approached by the Dragons. They’ve offered us so much to help us tame the land that wages war against us. It was just too much to resist. So it is with a heavy heart that we turn our backs on our fellow Equestrians and join the Coalition of Free Beings. We’ve suffered so much at the claw and teeth of the land, and you’ve simply proven to be not enough for our cities. I’m sorry.”

With that, Silver Tongue departed. Celestia and Hakim traded a look. Celestia sighed.

This was grim news, indeed. This upcoming struggle would be all the more difficult. She thought for a moment, and considered herself lucky that her allies were human. After all, they thrived in hard times.

They should persevere.

“Hey! Get up, Sadiq!”

Startled out of his sleep, a scraggly bearded man named Lord Rahim shuffled and stumbled his way out of his sleeping space. It was crowded in the tent that hung off the side of the great beast that carried them.

"This had better be good, Havash."

"Black smoke rises from Dubale, Sadiq! Come, see!"

Rahim stood up, precariously balancing as the great sauropod made its way across the sands, bouncing the woven side tent with every step. He looked to where Havash had been pointing and gasped.

He indeed saw Dubale in the distance, amid the Great Oasis. He saw the sandstone walls, carved ever so thoughtfully to both protect and beautify the borders of the trading hub. But as he looked on, many flying figures rose up and down the city as several smoke columns rose to clash with the bright blue desert sun.

There are not that many fliers in Saddle Arabia, so to see this many...

Raham turned to Havash and asked, "It is as we feared. We will have to fight."

Havash pointed to their immediate left and said, "See, Sadiq. The rest of the caravan have signaled battle readiness."

Sadiq followed to see the other sauropods of burden with all their gold and red war flags waving.

"Havash, wake up the rest of the tent. We must soon make battle."

"Yes, Sadiq."

"Hold back these traitors! No quarter!"

Camel King Mudai was at the edge of his patience.

How dare the Pony Triumvirate separate themselves from the Equestrian Alliance!

How dare the Pony Triumvirate align themselves with the Dragon-controlled Coalition of Free Beings!

As his rage threatened to boil over, King Mudai screamed down at the city from his palace,

"How DARE they attack us, the Saddle-Arabians!"

King Mudai sighed deeply and turned back to his bedchambers, finally acknowledging the camel servant who had tirelessly insisted he get inside.

"Camel King Mudai! It's not safe out there right no-"

"Get me my armor and my weapons, and rally everyone in the palace! Move!"

"Y-Yes, Camel King Mudai!"

The servant bolted out of Mudai's bedchambers, leaving him to listen to the din of battle and the sound of a city in agony. Mudai simmered as he watched the proceedings. The well-armed and well-trained horses and camels of Dubale's militia and army would not be enough this time. Even with the few pegasi volunteers the King had, the enemy would still be able to achieve air superiority, if not completely control the skies over his city. Lowly camel servants flooded back in, as well as the strong Captain DeHorse, Captain of the Saddle-Arabian Army and a fine black stallion to boot.. He bowed deeply, his gold armor clinking and ready for battle.

"My liege, what would you have us do?"

Mudai beckoned DeHorse rise to his hooves and said, “We keep this city out of desperate hooves, that’s what.”

Horseshoes pounding down the hallway, guards and captains rushed to save the city, and Mudai and DeHorse soon joined the crowd.

“What are you doing?”

Wretched Heart, a dark tan earth pony with an olive mane, got in the face of some grunt who had wandered away from the line in search of Celestia-knows-what.

“S-spoils of war, sir?”

Heart nearly facehoofed, but stopped himself because of his damage that the sharpened horseshoes could do to his own face. Instead, he just screamed,

“Get back in formation!”

The pony, armored with simpler lamellar armor and a bucket helmet, hurriedly stepping into the line that was progressing down the streets towards the Saddle Arabian palace. Heart thought the rest of the troops needed a reminder.

“We must force a surrender at the palace, gentlecolts! We can’t compromise that goal with petty looting of this city!”

A voice cried out,

“But my foals are starving!”

Heart looked over the crowd but couldn’t find the speaker. That would have to wait for later. Instead, he shouted,

“So are mine! Now go! For our foals!”

A new roar rose from the ranks. That would have to do. Wretched Heart sighed. How could it have come to this?

Earlier...

She ran up to Wretched Heart, a big smile on her face.

“Hey, daddy! Where are you going?”

“To get us food, Sunflower.”

Her face lit up, her eyes shining like stars.

“*Gasp* Does this mean we won’t go hungry anymore?”

“That’s right.”

“Does this mean we get to play outside the wall?”

“You remember what happened to Onyx, right?”

She recoiled as if struck.

“Oh...”

“That wall is there to keep the hungry things out, Sunflower.”

She looked up at Wretched Heart, ears folded back and with a pleading look on her young face.

“But... I’m hungry, daddy...”

“We all are, Sunflower.”

Shaking himself from his memories, Wretched Heart focused. This assault needed to succeed. He looked up to see the sparse air cover the Saddle Arabians had sent up get defeated by the proud Pegasi of the Triumvirate.

So the Triumvirate had air superiority. They had a chance after all. Wretched Heart smiled. Perhaps something good would come out of this violence after all.

Then a series of strange horns was sounded. Heart’s eyes widened. Another force had come to this battle.

This had just became much more difficult. A pegasi messager dropped a scroll hurriedly next to Wretched Heart, and he opened the scroll and read it. The commanders wanted this city yesterday, because the Fathuarto humans had raised their banners.

The great wooden gate that would’ve allowed the Fathuarto access to the city was closed to them, occupied by the Triumvirate invaders. Pegasi flew in and out of windows of the gatehouse, denying the sauropod riders access.

“Looks like we’ll have to dismount to open the gate, Sadiq!”

“I know that!”

The rope ladder unfurled from the sides of the beasts, and lightly armored men with bows and short swords ran up to the gate.

“Sadiq, they’re attacking!”

“Then get your bow, Havash!”

“Yes, Sadiq.”

Pegasi flew away from the gates in pairs towards the group of dismounted men, who loosed arrows at them. As soon as they saw the arrows come at them, the Pegasi would back off, lazily circling the men and sauropods. They swooped down and struck at any man who would venture too close to the gate, so an awkward standoff began.

“Havash?”

“Yes, Sadiq?”

“Signal the sauropods to move in closer.”

“That’ll put them in danger, Sadiq!”

“We need to get those men inside the gatehouse so they can get us in the city!”

“Alright, Sadiq!”

With horns sounding, the sauropod formation edged closer to the gates. The Triumvirate forces intensified their attacks, as did the sauropod riders with their arrows. A few errant arrows stuck out of the fallen Triumvirate fliers that collected along the ground, along with the fallen men struck by Triumvirate steel or arrow.

Eventually, satchel-carrying men broke away from the dismounted Fathuarto archers and braved arrow fire to stick their charge to the gate. Having fled, Lord Rahim and Havash waited with held breath.

The gunpowder could fail to ignite.

The force of the detonation might not be enough to grant the Fathuarto entry into the city.

After an eternity, the charges detonated. The big, heavy, reinforced sliding wall gate collapsed under its own crumbling weight after the foundation cracked if not crumpled under the force. Dust and sand kicked up as the masonry fell asunder. Everyone caught in the cloud coughed and covered their faces. Havash finally excitedly patted Rahim’s shoulder, pointed into the cloud of debris, and said, “Look, Sadiq! The gate has fallen!”

Rahim none-too-gently brushed off Havash’s hand and blew into a horn. The signal reached the men, and they surged forward with a battlecry. Everyone who had them drew their cutlasses, brandished their shields and bashed the sides of their weapons against their hardened steel buckler shields. The ringing carried far into the city.

Wretched Heart heard the horns and redoubled his shouting at his troops of, "Move it!"

A weary messenger pegasus sweaty under her armor, landed next to Wretched Heart and said, "Rear Guard Battalion... under heavy assault.... Orders?"

Wretched Heart grit his teeth and said, "Order the Rear Guard to take better defensive positions. Make them fight house by house."

The pegasus mare, grayed with debris through her normally brilliant red coat, raised her hoof in a salute, steeling herself before taking off to relay the General's orders.

Wretched Heart then turned to his grunts. With all the fury of both a general and a father, he shouted energy into the warriors of the Triumvirate.

Hopefully those reinforcements come soon.

____

The Battle for Dubale raged throughout the city and throughout the day. If one were perched atop the city walls as an observer, as a concealed white pegasus loyal to the Equestrian Crown was, they would observe attacks and counterattacks, as scores of ringing metal and shrieks of dying soldiers, the battle cries of the damned, were heard. Pegasi struck suddenly at the massive beasts of burden the men had brought. Unicorns loosed withering spellfire, panicking several of the giants, who swayed their tall, tan heads as colorful beams of magic impacted their hides. Armored earth ponies and sword-carrying men dueled each other in the streets. As the battle lines started to blur and each side flanked the other with skirmishers and squads of warriors, the dueling turned into a flat-out brawl. The thickest of the fighting happened in the central market square, where stalls with bright colors were turned into crude barricades and decorated with a scarlet coating as they were fought over.

A disgusting stench of battle wafted up to Clear Resolution's muzzle, and she heaved again, but nothing came out, as she already failed to contain her nausea just before, witnessing the glorious hell of battle.

She inserted a new roll of film into her camera with practiced speed and adjusted the tripod her camera rested on. She wiped her face with a napkin, then set back to work.

Resolution scanned the city line, now trying to practice professionalism as she zoomed in on certain events that were occurring. One caught her eye.

A squad of men atop one of the sandy dwellings had just been firebombed by a Triumvirate flier, and the camera shutter flickered furiously as men threw themselves off the now burning building. She also caught an image of the pegasus receiving fire from archers perched atop their beasts, who fell with several arrows jutting out from her torso.

Clear Resolution took a moment to catch her breath after she heard the sound of the pegasus hitting the ground, a sharp but faint snapping sound, and then screams as the unfortunate Triumvirate pony was beset by Fathuarto swordsmen. She heard a pleading voice, but the sheer distance didn't permit her to hear what the dying pegasus said before she was cut off as she was undoubtedly cut open.

Resolution tried to distance herself from what was happening, but with each new cry from every new casualty, her resolve wore a bit thinner.

Ultimately, Clear Resolution looked at her bag. 4 rolls of photographs was sufficient, she thought. She adjusted the cap on her head that read "PRESS," packed up her equipment with shaky hooves, then took off for the rendezvous with her representative in the press.

One image she took would never leave her, however.

Clear Resolution would have to contact her mother to let her know one of her daughters had fallen in battle.

____

“Where are those reinforcements?!”

“Sir Heart!”

Wretched Heart turned, battered and bloodied, to a fresher-looking pegasi messenger that had called him out. The pegasi saluted and said, “The Royal Triumvirate Army has arrived, and the War-Council has sent orders for you to redeploy outside the wall.”

Wretched Heart snorted, and then said, “How do you propose we do that? We don’t have enough unicorns, and the pegasi would be hard-pressed to get us out of this city.”

A flash of light answered Wretched Heart. He was immediately humbled by the sight of leather-robed unicorns, who began scanning the battlefield. One of them set his gaze on Wretched Heart and said, “Oh, ye of little faith. We will redeploy and surround both our enemies.”

“The day will yet be ours.”

Cold.

It’s the bloody cold that Talonshield can’t stand.

That, and the Magofinn. ‘Men of the North’, they call themselves. They command a vast trading network from their nigh-frozen port city of Magofinnia, where longboats filled with luxuries flow to every corner of the continent, and their only rivals in commerce would be the Saddle Arabians in the extreme south of the continent.

Their love of gold, however, has not dulled their warrior or their adventurer culture. Even now, as Talonshield and his fellows huddle together outside the frozen walls of Magofinnia, he heard hooting and chanting from those apes in there. With their hearty fires burning the firewood they trade their artisan goods for.

Talonshield hated the cold, and he hated the Magofinn. Today, he would destroy the latter, and enjoy their hearthfires.

He blew into his battle horn, and the screech of ten thousand griffons and the snarl of five thousand kobolds answered him.

The high, bitterly cold winds would sap the strength of a flying griffon faster than a marching griffon, so all put on the extra armor pads to protect their wings. The griffons carried equipment that would best compliment their new load of armor, thick kite shields and spears. They marched in front of their kobold allies, who had brought their sparksticks with them. Even in this climate, their cold hands had concocted powders that would fire off and create a deafening bang, not to mention bring death to whatever unlucky sod was in front of massed kobolds.

They had also brought siege engines with them, great ballistas with kobold bangsticks that exploded on contact with a wall or fortification. The ice walls of the Magofinn would crack and ultimately crumble under this superior technology. Now the only thing to do was get close enough to deploy the ballista against the fortifications.

It was during this phase of advancement that Talonshield noticed a great creak. Curious, he lifted his head from his march, and he saw something that made his heart sink.

The gates were opening.

The Magofinn were sallying forth and would give battle.

What was worse was that they didn’t send in their Citizen Militia first, as expected. Those weekend warriors were little more than citizenry with round wooden shields and spears.

What was charging out of the gates of the Magofinn capital was not the Magofinn Militia.

The Magofinn Longbeards were adventurers by trade and had many tales of far-off lands that remained unseen by Ponies or Griffons or even other human nations. The tales and the treasure the Longbeards brought back astounded many a traveller.

The Longbeards were also known for their savagery and individuality in combat. Each fought for his personal glory, and as such, equipment and weapons weren’t standardized. To Talonshield’s horror, he saw Magofinn dressed in whatever they felt like, be it chainmail, helms, fur coats, or even in some cases just leggings. Talonshield couldn’t fathom that those without fur would do such a thing in this extreme cold.

They were also all bleeding.

Ritualized preparations for battle included the cutting of flesh and applications of battle salves and potions. While the magical nature of such alchemy was dubious at best, the Magofinn insisted on it.

And for good reason.

The kobolds wasted no time in lining up and presenting their bangsticks to the Magofinn. A great thunderous noise ensued, and the smoke from the bangsticks of the kobolds partially obscured their vision.

It was quiet, other than the ringing and the echoing of the thunderous volley in Talonshield’s ears. He, with his flock-soldiers, moved up and in front of the kobold line, peering into the smoke.

Then a massive volley of axes sailed through the smoke into the unsuspecting Coalition lines. As soon as the kobolds realized what was happening and made to ready their bangstick again, the roar of the Magofinn resumed, and massive humans bolted through the smoke, with axes and shields held high. Griffons, such as Talonshield, held up their spears and braced for the impact with their lines. As the Magofinn closed, Talonshield couldn’t help but notice that the volley of bangsticks had hit their mark, as evident by the missing masses of flesh from the human’s extremities, as well as the streams of blood gushing out of said missing chunks of flesh.

‘They must be insane’, Talonshield thought. His suspicions were partially confirmed when the lead Magofinn brute shouted, “The name’s Karl Edvard Magofinn, and you’re on my lawn!”

And then the Longbeards collectively roared, and they were among the Coalition forces.

It was an instant rout. The Magofinn made no distinctions between Kobold or Griffon, and the axe didn’t, either. Talon abandoned his weapon and made a break for it, risking the cold wind to fly away into the winter. Having abandoned rank and discipline, the token force sent to wipe out this small tribe of humans had underestimated both the Magofinn themselves and the weather they seemed to thrive in.

The Coalition forces would not be seen again.

Dubale was under siege again.

An unknown number of Triumvirate reinforcements had arrived and somehow redeployed all the already engaged Triumvirate ponies outside Dubale, and their siege spells broke apart buildings and shattered formations. Soldiers and civilians ran to-and-fro, all in a state of panic or near-panic, even as siege spells landed around them. The multi-colored blobs of energy burned or outright vaporized whatever it hit, be it masonry or flesh.

“Sadiq!”

Rahim ran among the collapsing sandy debris, with Havash close on his heels. Their robes and armor were dented, scratched, and sandy from all the combat they had gone through. They ran like men possessed, as did everyone around them, to whatever direction they thought would take them to safety amongst the horror and chaos of the siege being renewed on the city.

Even now, Havash’s insistence on calling Rahim Sadiq got on his nerves. “I know!”

“What are your orders!?”

“We fight!”

The Sauropod riders had to abandon their ward after it was struck with a life-seeking siege spell. The unfortunate beast of burden’s head had evaporated under such potent magical energy, and, to Rahim’s horror, many a sauropod from his command had suffered a similar fate. The rest of the sauropods were close to panicking, which would make things only worse for the besieged humans and Saddle Arabians.

They had drawn swords after jumping off and were running towards the sound of fighting. The Golden Oasis of Dubale looked less like a town of merchants and gold coins, and more a battlezone, with blasted, sandy ruins and bodies littering the street. To Rahim’s annoyance, it seemed that all the pegasi they had slain had done little good, as more and more pegasi were rallying in the skies, surely planning to firebomb his and the Saddle Arabian’s troops. Rahim and Havash stopped when they turned a corner to witness some of the melee.

The Saddle Arabian Royal Guard, composed of mixed forces of Horses and Camels, had joined the fray. Their golden-hued armor shone in the sun, as much as combat would allow. They had joined the formations of the Farthuarto, and their hardened horseshoes were a great addition to the strength of the defenders. Rahim even saw the Horse King Preatorias leading the Saddle Arabian forces. It was not unusual for the Horse King to be the more militant of the Saddle Arabian Kings, but to actually see the brown and blonde horse, donned in heavy and elaborate gear, throw himself at the Triumvirate with all the vigor and fury of a regular soldier was quite the sight to behold.

But then a siege spell landed directly on him.

“How are they still fighting?”

Heaving and resting his sweaty and bloodied palms on his knees, Chieftain Cú Chulainn looked over the valley battlefield. The Diamond Dogs had put up a good fight, as had his own painted warriors. They now stared at each other from across the valley, each dressing wounds and praying for the dead, who piled into the lowest point in disgraceful ways.

The mana runes were being reapplied with utmost care to all the warriors and the Gáelimons were tended to. The bipedal saurids were skittish when exposed to prolonged battle, as was the case for even the Moenéills and the diamond dogs. All the chariots were battered or destroyed, save for the Chieftain’s. It only looked scratched. Chieftain Cú Chulainn checked his crossbow bolt stores on his chariot. It was fast depleting. Wincing, Chieftain Cú Chulainn considered his options.

He could either continue the battle, and continue to throw the dice with the lives of his warriors, or he could withdraw. Normally, withdrawing would make Chieftain Cú Chulainn’s gut wrench and twist in disgust. Now?

He was starting to see the merit of the city-folk’s idea of withdrawing. He was beat, and his nephew was lying on a coat, barely breathing. For the sake of his people, he had to withdraw.

After his internal counsel had conceded that Chieftain Cú Chulainn’s Moenéills and the Diamond Dog Cúnna Faoil were too evenly matched and their painted warriors too similar for any one side to gain a decisive victory over the other without the sacrifice of the entire army. The eerie similarity between the Moenéills and the Cúnna Faoil stemmed from a point in their history where they were as one tribe, but discontent and disagreements ultimately doomed the alliance of man and canine.

And now, the hatred between the two tribes had reached a boiling point, each swearing curses, oaths, and revenge rites on the other for the mutual loss of their friends. As the battle went on, however, the energy they had gained from vengeful wrath faded, until only a tired longing for a conclusion to the battle remained. Even now, the sorrow and loss in everyone’s eyes were present, even in what he could see over at the diamond dog lines. Chieftain Cú Chulainn even considered a parlay. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a most curious sound.

It was a low roar, then a loud roar. The pitter-patter of feet made itself known first to the Diamond Dogs, who could look behind them to see it first, then the men of the Moenéills.

It looked like a black tide, sweeping over the countryside like a cancer.

The Goblin Hordes had arrived.

Chieftain Cú Chulainn was certainly going to withdraw now.

“Princess! Princess!”

Poleaxe ran with his namesake through the halls of Canterlot Castle, desperately trying to find somepony, anypony to take him to the Princesses. He recalled a mental map of the castle, oriented himself within, and took off in the direction of the Throne Room. That was where they were usually at, right?

Cutting corners and scaring maidsponies, Poleaxe soon huffed under the weight of his steel armor and his poleaxe.

Finally, he unceremoniously busted through the throne room doors, and into the court, where petitioners regarded him either with disinterest or with wide eyes. The Solar Diarch herself sat on her throne, becoming increasingly worried about the sudden arrival of one of her her little guardsponies.

Catching his breath, adjusted his morion helmet, and shouted,

“The Changelings are attacking! And they’ve got Dragons with them!”

With not a moment to spare, the Princesses took off and followed Poleaxe, leaving the petitioners to stew in their frustrations and fear. It took a short time before the gathered ponies made their way to a balcony, but as they made it to a balcony, they soon wished they hadn’t.

A veritable locust swarm of Changelings dotted the sky, threatening to cover the entirety of Canterlot in shadows, and the Dragons...

They were enormous. Celestia recoiled in horror at their size, and that their size rivalled or dwarfed most elder dragons she knew. She realized with no small terror that many of these were elder dragons, and she might even know them by name.

And there was no small number of them, either. They were among the Changelings, making seem like birds were among the locust swarms.

And they were fast approaching.

A horn blew, making itself known in the din. The clashing of iron and steel as well as the voices of the combatants nearly drowned out the commanding note. It was slightly mournful, as the note was seldom used in the history of the Moenéill. The proud woad warriors dreaded that drawn-out note, as it meant only one thing.

Retreat.

It was unthinkable that the proud warriors would even consider backing down from a fight, and it was a matter of pride that they usually stood and fought or died, but... the day was not theirs. The enemy were too many. The remaining Diamond Dogs were rallied by the arrival of the great fey horde of Goblins and their Uruk masters. The day seemed lost; the only recourse was to live to fight another day.

What was left of the War Chariot Squadrons would be the first to leave the field, were it an unorganized rout. Their speed would most definitely aid them in their escape. However, this was not Moenéill battle doctrine. The signal that was blown was sent to the brave warriors of the Painted Ones. They begrudgingly began the long trek back home, being sure to evade the friendly chariots. They ran in lines, spaced between the few remaining chariots, painted red with the ichor of the enemy.

Chieftain Cú Chulainn affixed a spare scythe to the left spoke. He was running low on reserves for those. Should he try charging through the enemy lines without something to both terrify and bisect the enemy... the Chieftain shoved those thoughts aside. The Dogs might have been rallied by the arrival of their allies, but they would not gain the upper hand in this war. He and his men would be back. By the Holy Stones, he would be back.

But first, he must secure a way out for his warriors. He took but a moment to look out into the field, and noted that it was littered with blood and bodies. An unbidden thought came to him. “Once a field has been stained with blood, it will remain that way forever.” As always, even now, the wise thoughts of his father’s father were ones he should heed. But... it was too late to keep this field free of battle.

He mounted his chariot, noted with some pride that his javelin stocks had been resupplied, and clasped the shoulder of his nephew, still prone in his cart. He was the heir to the Moenéill throne, but the current Chieftain must first make sure there was a tribe left to rule when all was said and done. Time for stage 2 of the retreat.

He withdrew the horn at his hip and blew hard into it. This was the signal for the final attack to begin. This might not be decisive, or glorious, but it was a necessary tactic if his warriors were to meet with a kinder fate than death or capture by the likes of the Coalition.

The loud spoked wheels sang their song of terror, and, for a moment, their hymn was joined by the rhythmic beating of the Chieftain's heart and the screaming of the charioteers. Today might have been a good day to die, but it was better still to live, and fight on to another day.

They charged.

Under the cover of night, the Reman Legion arrived at last at the harbor of Phillydelphia. Their close escape from the hands of the Griffonian Kingdom at the cost of the emergency raft had paid off, their gambit yielding results none of them had dared to dream of. Now, they were able to assist in the defense of Equestria, should the need arise. Their destination was Canterlot.

Sandaled feet battered and bruised the nightly streets, their silent procession broken only by heavy breathing and the sound of their feet as they fled. The forced march interrupted the gentle wind and the chirping of crickets. With all kit and armor, and in unison, the Legio Equestrianii proceeded. Their sprint terminated at the train station, where the troops boarded while Ambassador Orator Hominis and Centurion Marce Pullo Vorenius went to go commandeer the train. While that may have been something that would normally be frowned upon, Orator thought it would be fine with the Princesses, given the state of war they were in.

Once inside the train, the troops were allowed to relax in the many passenger carts, while Orator went to calm the panicked pony passengers and crewmembers. Soon enough, the panicked voices were reduced to silence, if not a hushed tone. The train lurched forward, and every Legionnaire caught their breath, fully expecting a fight to break out. As it turned out, they would not be disappointed for long .

A new, unfamiliar horn sounded in Chief Cú’s ears, one that came from behind his army. The Chieftain was stuck between fear and hope, much like the javelin that jutted out the torso of an Uruk captain, his black ichor spilling out onto the grass. ‘Okay,’ the Chieftain thought. ‘That wasn’t a very good analogy, but...’

His thoughts were interrupted by the thundering of an army behind his own. He redirected his attention and his chariot from the crumbling front lines to the rear. He saw bright red banners flapping, framed by the forest, where safety once lay. But then, the Chieftain recognized the heraldry on those banners.

Those were encircled lambdas. The clash of bright, bronze-colored steel weapons against bronze-colored steel shields could be heard. The Lacedans of the Kingdoms of Man had arrived. The Hoplites were here. And they were chanting.

“<Sons of Men! Sons of Men! Sons of Men!>”

At first, the scattered Woad Warriors of the Moenéill were confused, but as the Armored Wall ran past the Warriors in single-file, with cheers and shouted encouragements, the spirits of the Painted Ones seemed to be reinvigorated. They soon joined the shield wall the Lacedans had formed on the sides, shouting at the gathered non-human forces with faux renewed energy. They may have been tired, but they were still ready to fight.

However, the Coalition had apparently had enough. They stood their ground, and even looked to be standing down. This would not be a one-day battle.

Meanwhile, in Saddle Arabia, the siege of Dubale continued. The Sauropod Riders were stranded in the city, and the Saddle Arabians themselves were without reinforcements or relief. The Ponies of the Triumvirate had brought a second army with them, and with them, the elite of the Triumvirate. The Monomerton Castle Magi. Powerful Wizards, and significant threats even when alone. That was all the more unfortunate, then, that they preferred to travel and fight in groups.

Now, they were responsible for the teleport evacuation of the previously encircled Triumvirate troops, and ponies like Wretched Heart, a Triumvirate Captain, were thankful that such an option existed. Now, barring any feedbacks, the siege of Dubale continued. Troops on both sides rested during the night, knowing full well that they would be recommitted to the slaughter tomorrow.

He sat around a campfire with other officers of the Triumvirate, each wearing as pained and weary expressions as he. Except for one.

“Did you see the way I flew over all their stupid Camel, Horse, and Human heads? I was so fast, and they couldn’t hit me worth anything!”

Spectrum Raid pounded his silver-armored cyan hooves together in a display of the usual bravado and callousness.

“We struck them down with our firebombs, and they were powerless to stop us!”

Immediately, images flashed across Wretched Heart’s mind of falling pegasi due to the many volleys of arrows and bolts the humans and Saddle Arabians had fired in anger at the heavens. Shaking his head, Heart couldn't help but wonder if there lived ponies just as brash and as cockey ponies back in the old pony homeland of Equestria as their new homelands.

Probably not.

His musings were halted when the roar of mighty beasts were heard. Long, drawn out, and terrible like uncontrollable thunder, the notes of the unholy carried long into the night. No horns were sounded, for they were not necessary. The roar of the theropods were enough.

Every horror story ever told about the Chladsutes suddenly came to Heart, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the tales were true. Did there really exist a human society that tamed vicious carnivorous beasts that were much, much bigger than they? Did they ride these same beasts into battle, with their teeth the size of bananas and their maws wide enough to gobble a pony whole? Did the Chladsutes really feed their uncooperative children to said beasts?

Heart had no time to consider the finer details of the many gossiping sessions he’d had with his squadmates over the nature of the humans whom other humans feared when he suddenly saw a Theropod Rider. They were already in the camp. Where were the damned sentries? Why had they not alerted anyone? How could they have gotten so close without us noticing?

The Triumvirate forces did not ask these questions, for they were in a rout. The campfires illuminated and reflected off of the scale barding armor of the partially feathered giants, their maws already shining and dripping with the lifeblood of Heart’s comrades. The sights of their mailed and helmeted riders were fearsome, too. The imagery of these fully-armored humans gave the impression to the ponies that what they were dealing with were not mortals, but something supernatural. Floating armor possessed by an evil intelligence, who then went on to tame a monster and ride it into battle, where the bardiches brandished in the Chladsutes’ hands invoked imagery of a grim reaper, come to take the souls of the wicked to an eternal punishment.

Already, the weaker-willed grunts and even a few captains were fleeing uncontrollably from these horrible abominations, many of whom had forgone the armor and the sigils of the Triumvirate to flee towards... Dubale. That perhaps would be the only place safe enough from the theropod tyrants. Drawing his weapon, Heart considered his options. He could stay and fight, in which case, he might be horribly, horribly killed and eaten by these Chladsutes, which would leave his children without a father and a wife without a husband. That, as well as the fleeing ponies to the left and to the right of him, finally broke Heart’s will. He dropped his longsword and made to Dubale. Perhaps he would be fortunate as a prisoner of war.

He heard arcane energies being fired and looked behind him as he ran. The Mages had engaged the Theropods openly and directly. They were brave, but they were also foolish. As he watched, one such seemingly bejeweled creature simply leaned down and snapped its grisly jaw around an unfortunate elderly wizard, cutting off any pained/terrified scream when the fate of the poor unicorn was sealed. Such an event might have driven Wretched Heart to rally his men and attempt to bring down the horrid things. That was before he witnessed the valor of Spectrum Raid’s attempt to firebomb the Chladsutes being rewarded by a theropod simply closing its maw around Raid. He had died without a noise, other than a nauseating crunch.

Wretched Heart looked forward to Dubale, and hastened his step. He had to get away.

On the killing plains near the Kingdoms of Man, the Moenéill and the Lacedans made ready for battle. The Diamond Dogs were oddly absent. Had they fled? Chieftain Cú couldn’t think of why that would be. Then he witnessed the infighting that the Uruks and Goblins had within their front lines.

‘Had the dogs been destroyed by their own so-called allies?’

Such dark thoughts were interrupted when the Uruk war horn blew. The time for day two of battle has begun. He turned to his new best friend, Strategos Thanos Maniatis. The aged man had a simple combat dress on, without many of the embellishments other Armored Wall Hoplites had. Even without the display of awards, medals, or honors, Chieftain Cú knew that Thanos had seen battle, and had seen war. Obviously, this was the reason that he had been chosen as strategos of the Armored Wall, and was not just a historian or scholar. The way he carried himself, the way the man diplomatically and calmly arranged the defense of their nations to the best of his ability. The men had alternated watches, rests, and defense-building throughout the night.

The Hoplites had a reputation of bravado, believing they did not need walls of brick or mortar. Nonetheless, they had been instructed by the Regnator to adopt new tactics in order to ensure the survival of man. To this end, they had built pits of spikes, hilly ridges from which to stand and defend, and wooden staves to deter the massed charges. When the sunlight granted by the grace of their ancestors touched the work they had put their blood, sweat, and tears into, it brought a boon of pride to the hearts of both Cheiftan Cú and Strategos Thanos.

The Woad Warriors’ paint glowed with an inner light of navy blue. The reapplication of the magical plant was sure to aid them today, as well as those Hoplites who wanted to try such an exotic means of protection. In the spirit of comradery, some shields, weapons, and trinkets were traded off. In that morn, they were no longer separate armies of two sovereign nations, but one army of one tribe. Normally, Chieftain Cú wouldn’t deign to entertain the whims of the city-dwellers for even a moment, but having seen the brave men come all this way for their mutual defense, Cú didn’t know whom else he would rather have standing by his side.

Perhaps it could be the additional reinforcements in the form of other Kingdom of Man forces, the Knights of Abraxas. The towering steel-clad figures carried warhammers, similar in design and function to the Minotaurs. Their gleaming blue heraldry shone in the morning sun, weapons at the ready. Chieftan Cú couldn’t help but think how heavy that kit must be. That must be why the two bodies of soldiers didn’t arrive at once. The somewhat lighter kit of the Hoplites might have enabled them to march faster, but Cú couldn’t be certain.

Nevertheless, the Knights wordlessly situated themselves in front of the defensive ridges and behind the staves. Chieftain Cú noted with some incredulousness that they deliberately put themselves as a shield in front of the other armies. This, he realized, was the Chivalric code that he had heard so much about. They may have wanted to be the first to fight, but they would sacrifice safety for such an honor to themselves and the houses they hail from. As the horde loomed, Chieftain Cú readied his long weapon, and his chariot. He might not have as many charioteers, but their flanking actions should assist in this battle, nevertheless.

The horns sounded in the mid-morning mists. The Warriors of Man held their ground. The disgusting, teeming horde slammed into the defenses, and Day 2 of the battle ensued. Nobody noticed the distant shape of dragons flying west to east, to the Kingdom’s Capital.

Legio Equestrianii disembarked the train to find Canterlot a battlefield. They had heard stories of chittering, buzzing wings, but to witness a changeling invasion was another matter. In the pre-dawn, it was hard to make out friend from foe, especially with the shapeshifting powers the changelings possessed. Orator noted, “So, the changelings have joined the war on the side of the Coalition.”

Centurion Marce nodded his head, and drew his officer’s sword. It would be needed here, and they must answer the call to their allies. “Orders, sir?” asked Marce.

“Kill only the changelings.”

The changelings might have been masters of disguise, but that purpose served them naught when they charged the Reman shields and short swords anyway. The bright red paint of the shields, along with the golden heraldry of their cohort and legion were stained green by the gore that easily seeped out of the broken exoskeletons of the punctured drones. Orator noted grimly that these even seemed like the cat-sized terror ants of home. They may have been fearsome in numbers, but that did not make them clever or tact. Such primitive rush tactics were easily countered by the training and steel-cool countenance of the Legion and Auxiliaries. Marce noted with some pride that even Attius managed to wet his blade, as well as whet his bloodthirst, if the grin was any indication.

The auxiliaries screened the Legionnaires, and the Legionnaires screened the auxiliaries. It was a mutual protection, with the Legionnaires providing a physical shield that dwarfed the little round shield of the auxiliaries, and the auxiliaries packed javelins and speed to take care of the slightly more clever changelings who thought to bombard them with wretched green magic and goo.

After having cleared enough terror ant hives, Orator had hoped to be free from such repulsive bodily function. This was clearly not to be the case. He was peeved, but that was nothing compared to the war veteran that was Marce. There was no word in the tongue of men, pony, or other such race that spoke and dwelled on this Earth for the amount of rage that Marce felt. No doubt existed in Orator’s mind as to what Marce thought of these new invaders, but Orator would have to utilize and then corral the temper that Marce was building.

They met up with elements of the Equestrian Royal Guard, battered and bruised, but still fighting. Their spears and their armor was adorned with spatters of Changeling viscera, and Orator couldn’t help but feel relieved. The ponies could stand by themselves, but it was still better to have friends. They were rallied around the Center Square, where a statue of the Solar and Lunar Princesses stood in the dim light. Even from this distance, Orator could tell that they had sustained damage, with missing chunks of mortar and stone from both the base of the statue and the statues themselves. Fires that caught on random bits of debris and buildings helped to frame the scene in a bit of orange light. Standing at the center of the scene, and with an air of authority, stood Captain Flash Sentry. He helped re-raise the Equestrian banner, a white and dark blue flag with the sun and the moon on it. He noticed the incoming Remans and cantered to meet them. Nodding his head in respect, Marce asked, “What’s the situation, Captain?”

After a moment to clear the smoke-filled air, and a bit of clearing ichor from his armor, Flash answered, “Not good. The castle is still overrun, and we don’t know how the Princesses are faring.”

Before anything else could be said, a ray of pure sunlight erupted from Canterlot Castle, along with a bright blue beam of moonlight energy. It seemed to propel something out for quite a distance, before it recovered and dove. The distant figure was followed by the remote figures of the Princesses pursuing it. Orator manage to recognize the Changeling Queen as the trio of figures got closer. She seemed to want to fly low through the streets to make an escape. Orator couldn’t have that. He looked around, and withdrew something from his coat pocket. He pointed it at the oncoming Kingpin Changeling and squeezed a trigger. The bang that followed was itself followed by the ungraceful crash of an injured Queen into rubble. Green blood slowly seeped from her now many wounds, from the crunch of flesh that used to house her left wing to the scrapes and cut she had sustained from the crash.

Now, the once proud facade of pride and power that was Chrysalis was well and truly shattered. Her tears ran freely, as she feebly tried to crawl to safety. She cried out to her loyal subjects, cried out for her drones to come rescue her from death or capture.

But nobody came.

Slowly, Orator and the Princesses stalked the Queen, who had finally succumbed to the agony, and merely waited, trembling and sobbing. Orator traded looks with Celestia and Luna, each as battered as the Queen of the changelings. Their strength was almost spent.

Celestia was the one to approach Chrysalis, like a judge looming over the guilty. The battle regalia clicked on the pavement and crushed a few pieces of debris. Chrysalis, in a final moment of defiance, looked up at the Princesses with a stern look that was about as steady as a marble balancing on a knife’s edge.

Before Celestia could deliver what was sure to be a cutting speech, a red and dark crimson dragon crushed the residential block under its bulk by landing. Everyone was shocked into silence by the sudden entrance of such an impossible creature. It looked to be able to swallow other mature dragons whole. The teeth were the size of canoes, and the glittering of the titan’s scales was accentuated by the fires it had just lit. However, there was a pony who recognized her old foe, and she flew up to eye-level with the titan of a dragon.

“It’s been a long time, Ferroth,” Celestia said coldly. Her eyes were set, hardened as her heart against the formerly-exiled King of Dragons.

Ferroth, with a dark and rumbly voice that shook the air and the earth, said, “You are still as small to me as on that fateful day.”

Memories of an era past flickered across Celestia’s conciousness. She retorted, “I am no longer the filly you so easily terrified. You should have destroyed me when you had the chance. The Sun has never been yours, and will never be yours. You neither possess the power nor the authority to command it. Your allies will be defeated, and you will be defeated again.”

After that, Celestia raised the sun, signalling the new dawn that had arrived, and she framed herself perfectly against the sun, casting a shadow on Ferroth.

With a laughter that bore both mirth and genuine amusement, Ferroth said, “The war was not meant to be won by my lessers. They were merely the distraction. Now that your ally’s armies have been drawn from their homes, they will be burned to cinders and ashes. There will be no humans to save you this time.”

Ferroth raised his wings, casting a spell with his dragonfire. His own wings cast a shadow that covered entire destroyed neigborhoods, making the ponies within feel a literal presence of an oppression that this monster had brought.

And with a blink, Ferroth was gone. Celestia knew where he was going, and that she must stop him. She called on the Sun to revitalize her, heal her wounds, and to grant her the power to travel wherever she desired with the speed of light itself. This was usually taxing on her, but Celestia knew this was not a day to hold back.

‘To the Citadel, then.’

The Kingdom of Man was under siege again, and more of it was on fire than it had ever been. With the presence of dozens of adult dragons, and with the absence of the armies, the Ligia Guard had to step in. Even so, they were but few men. Ferroth arrived just before Celestia, their teleports bringing them to a ruined palace in the middle of a burning city.

For a moment, Celestia was frozen by the horror that had been committed. Buildings that had stood in defiance of invasion for thousands of years were flattened, and entire families lay slain in the street, by all means of death. Crushing, ripping, burning, and slashing. The dragons that now wandered the streets each had a taste for human flesh, and each savored the vengeance they had achieved against their long-time enemies.

Long lives meant that their grudges were etched deep into their very beings, and they were now destroying the Jewel of Mankind. They were even singing as they tormented what few remaining living souls there were to be found. The screaming of adult and child human alike could be heard as the dragons played with their prey.

They continued their savagery, but Celestia was forced to refocus her attention to Ferroth, the instigator of all this, who regarded her with a grin that only belonged to the sick and the demented. Celestia regarded Ferroth with an absolute contempt she rarely felt for any living being. He had discarded those traits that dragons would find honorable or just, and instead turned himself into something less than a nobledrake. Ferroth might look like a dragon, but in this instant, he more resembled a demon.

The standoff ended, however, when a flying brick nearly cracked one of Ferroth’s teeth. An event this unexpected threw Ferroth for a loop, even as the stone broke apart on impact, cracking a few teeth. Celestia wheeled around, and saw an impossible sight.

There, among the rubble, smoke, and blood... was Fatum Ligia.

Silence. The accursed dragon rubbed its snout. The defiant act had not gone unnoticed.

"Human swine," angrily growled the dragon. "You had naught but hide and hope I don't find you." Ferroth rose up to his full height, towering over many and all that stood in the capital city of Mankind. He roared a deep bellow that caused all living souls to look on. The dragon roared again, and the dragons who had been gorging themselves on human blood all rallied to their leader. Ferroth then dove down on Celestia and Fatum. The bulk of the dragon crushed marble smashed masonry and flattened the work fo men.

Celestia, having cleared the place, turned to Fatum, who himself was picking himself up after the attack. She asked him, "Do we have a plan, Fatum?" Grinning, he took a scuffed horn out from his belongings. "Yes," he said. "This was part of the plan, you see. Heroes, all. The women and children are a distraction. They volunteered to be bait. Their names will be remembered for eternity. They have baited the dragons in. Come and see."

As Celestia looked up, she could see that all of the dragons had taken to ground in favor of chasing individual humans or groups of humans around the streets. There was a terror in the eyes of the humans being chased, but there, too, was a purpose. "Now," said Fatum. "The trap has been sprung." Fatum then blew the horn.

At his signal, thunder sounded throughout the city. Cannons, hidden in the walls and the buildings, sounded off in a retort of great noise and fire. Their vengeance sank deep into the scaly hides of the attackers. Red dragons, blue dragons, or green dragons. They all bled the same red as the cannonballs struck true. And as they stumbled, tumbled, even screamed and roared from their injuries, a second horn was sounded.

Men, women, and children, from all walks of life, and from all of the militaries and the civil classes, rushed to the struck dragons. Theirs was a mad dash, all painted in the new black and white heraldry of the Kingdom of Man. They wore their maltese cross on their armor, and on their clothing, and on their faces.

They did not relent, and they did not stop. Legionnaires charged with their rectangular shields and heavy javelins. Hoplites rushed to bash the dragons and pry off their scales with their shields and their swords. Knights rushed forward with their poleaxes, intent on smashing and breaking the dragon's tough hide. The armored figures were no longer divided amongst three martial orders, but as part of a single effort, a single conflict. They have their all; to not do so, they knew, would mean the end of their nation, their peoples, their history, and their lineage. They screamed their outrage amongst the populace armed with knives, clubs, bricks, and discarded weapons and shields. Behind them, more Ligia Guard fired their rifles into the faces of the beasts.

A chant was soon taken up by the fighting humans. "Nex! Nex! Nex! Nex!" Their shouts challenged the volume of the dragons, even as they flailed and burned with reckless, dying abandon. "Nex, Nex, Nex, Nex!" they shouted. As their weapons sunk, crushed, and bit into the dragons, their shouts increased in volume. As they physically overpowered the dragons, they also shouted louder than the dragons with whom their rage was directed at.

The dragons twitched, the dragons wailed, and the dragons shrank from the stinging bite of the human weapons. They backed away from the clubs and swords to the face, only to find themselves impaled on the pikes and lances of those behind them. They even fought half-blind, even if all they did was close their eyes to the incessant strikes of the ant-like swarm overtaking them. Scales were peeled off. Eyes were poked, even pierced. Wing membrane was stretched, and torn, and cut. A few dragons tried to flee, their wounds gushing hot red blood as their wings failed to carry the weight of the dragons.

And Ferroth had borne witness to all of it. He roared in great anger and refocused his sight on the human sovereign and the pony monarch. "Worms! All of them!" he roared. His bloodshot eyes twitched and glared. He reared up again and looked around as Dragons now attempted to flee. Theirs was not the action of the predator no more, but their actions were that of prey. "Cowards!" he screamed. "Useless, idiotic worms! They are only insects! Fight!"

His words, however, had no visible impact. No dragon rallied to his call, and no help arrived from any of his thralls. Only the anguished, angry, and defiant cries of the men and women answered him. And they were approaching. Even now, humans with fury writ on their faces approached Ferroth. Their hearts pounded in their ears, and their weapons, military or improvised, were drawn. Even now, crossbows fired, Longbows loosed their arrows, javelins were thrown, rifles aimed and cannons were fired. The withering fire sunk into the scales of the great dragon, and he answered their missiles with a fire of his own. Scorching heat passed over entire crowds of soldiers, militia, and angry mobs of people, producing... screams of a different variety.

Fatum withdrew his pistol and started firing, as well. His voice added to a chorus of chaos that filled the air. All the while, Celestia stood in silence. Her mouth agape, her eyes searching the faces of those poor charging souls as Ferroth retaliated in lethal fashion. Parting crowds of people with his tail, smashing shield walls with his claws and loosing fire from his maw to any sort of direction. She hung her head to stop looking at it all. It was as if the end of Man was still at hand.

She felt a hand on her back. Looking up, she saw someone and gasped. Someone who should have been dead. Regnator Ligia. Fatum likewise noticed, and he swayed as he rubbed at his eyes. "H-How?" asked Celestia. "How are you here?" Chuckling, Regnator, the former sovereign of man, asked, "It is not easy to simply stop being immortal. Time has lost its effect on me long ago." Celestia looked to Ferroth, and squeaked, "What can we do against such hate?" The aged man smiled, and asked, "Do you think this more difficult than before? Remember."

As Celestia looked beyond this time, she took deeper breaths. Twitching eyes stilled with purpose. As she breathed heavily, she slowly started to grit her teeth, fresh tears streaming from her eyes. Her gaze hardened, lips peeled back in a sneer. Finally, she looked up to Ferroth, and light engulfed her eyes. Finally, she screamed. For a moment, she stopped being Princess Celestia. She stopped being even a pony. She was just another voice in the crowd. The spirit of defiance had fully taken her, and she was as human as the woman who stabbed Ferroth's heel, or an aged veteran consumed by fire.

Her anger reached the boiling point. Flying up, she superimposed herself before her sun and raised her hooves. Her cry reached a feverish pitch as the sun burned more brightly than it had for a long time. The fighting stopped as everyone moved to shield their eyes from the sun. Even Ferroth, Claimant of the Sun, could not stare directly at Celestia. Soon, it became unbearingly hot for most individuals there, and everyone but Ferroth immediately took cover in the shade as the sun bored own on them. Finally, a beam of pure solar matter struck Ferroth. The only thing to be heard was Celestia's scream and the fiery intensity of the sun.

After a seeming eternity of this, the attack finally abated. The Solar Princess, steaming from the energy she just used, could not find the strength to keep herself up. As she finally collapsed, Ferroth rose again. He lifted his blacked wings, only to find that they were damaged beyond use. The membrane of his wings had all burned away, and everything else not protected by scale was disintegrated. Even his eyes, protected as they were behind reptilian eyelids, steamed from the vaporized moisture, and Ferroth struggled to move. He moaned pitifully. He lifted his right foreleg and subsequently collapsed. He tried to get up again, but Fatum had other plans.

"Attack!" shouted Fatum and Regnator Ligia.

And the charge began anew. Ferroth offered little resistance to the humans stabbing, prying, and bashing at his scales. They grasped the edges of his scales, only for them to recoil away because of the intense heat. They settled for bashing debris against the dragon with hurting hands. Ferroth kept trying to move forward, unheeding of the human efforts to destroy him. Finally, some scales were pried out, and pikes were roughly shoved into the gaps. As they poked, more people roughly grabbed the pikes and contributed to the shoving and stabbing.

Fatum called, "Bring up the cannons! It is time to put an end to this war!" Ferroth seemingly did not hear Fatum and proceeded to crawl on his belly. HIs motions were slow, and the rage in his dragon eyes were absent. No longer was this biggest of dragons a force to be reckoned with. Now, even he is being whittled away. More screaming humans joined the execution. Some pushed cannonry into place, having to push past and over bodies and debris, and fired into the dragon point-blank. Torrents of crimson poured from the close impact points, but still, the dragon persisted.

Regnator grimaced. "This isn't good," he said. "Soon, Ferroth will remember his magic, and the battle will go ill." He looked, and saw a fresh cannon being rolled up for the combined assault. From his white funeral coat, Regnator withdrew a vial of blue liquid. Fatum saw this, and gasped. "Is this..."

Regnator nodded, and flicked out the vial's cork with his gloved thumb. "It will be necessary to finally end this." However, he handed off the vial, letting it and its priceless contents fall into the hands of Fatum. Before Fatum could voice his concern, Regnator had moved to the cannon. The black-coated cannoneers stepped back, and withdrew a cloth cylinder from his coat. he took a discarded knife and cut a hole in the bag. Inside, black powder sat. Lifting the muzzle of the cannon with his other hand, Regnator dumped the contents of the bag into the cannon. First, gunpowder, then grape-sized cannon ammunition. A cannoneer offered a ramrod. One-handing the ramrod, Regnator plunged the ammunition down the smooth bore of the cannon. While he was doing this, another cannoneer was preparing a fuse and a wick, just n case.

After Regnator was satisfied, he let the cannon back down into its carriage. he rounded the long side of the cannon until he met the cannoneer with the wick. Wide-eyed, the dirtied boy wordlessly handed Regnator the wick. "Thank you, my lad," said Regnator. Then, he grasped the cannon and took the whole weapon under his arm, and handled it all the way over to Ferroth. Everyone had stopped attacking Ferroth at that point, and now all eyes were on Regnator.

"Friends!" he shouted. "Humans! Free peoples!"

A few Ligia guard, having retrieved Celestia, took her weary form into sight. She raised her head, and upon seeing Regnator, cracked a tired smile. She said, "Reg... you came back..." her voice cracked, and her voice barely left her.

"The age of conflict is about to be over! No longer will individuals be swayed by the lies of this lizard, and no longer will the fear of man enter into the hearts of those who would be our enemies! The age of conflict is over!"

Regnator shot a smug smile towards Celestia and shouted, "This is for you, love!"

He lit the cannon, held onto the breech end of the cannon, and pressed it into Ferroth's eye. The dragon, having been still until now, stirred with alarm and prepared a spell. However, the cannon fired. The recoil nearly forced out of Regnator's hand, but he merely lowered it. The grapeshot had done bloody work on the dragon. A splash of blood now covered Regnator, the cannon, and anyone standing close by. a similar splash covered the ruins opposite of Ferroth's head. The sound of the shot echoed, and all was silent. Then, someone said, "Victory." The word sat on the tongues of everyone there. Soon, more people shouted it.

"Victory! Victory! Victory! Victory!"