The bellow of a thousand warriors erupted into the air. Zenfelrius gazed upon the abattoir unfolding below, his silver eyes filling with crystalline tears.

"No," he whispered to himself. "No, it can't be."

Unicorn after unicorn fell to the blades of the star dervishes, mindless automatons, their only objective, death. They decimated lines of brave unicorns, slicing through their bodies as though they were nothing. Their five points, tipped with heavy spikes of adamantine, knew no sensation, no humanity, only that they must continue spinning. Zenfelrius had never witnessed such an atrocity. The battlefield soon devolved into a swamp of processing fluid and frayed wires. Warriors trampled the remains of their fellows as they attempted to fend off the endless assailants, but to no avail; their bodies soon fell and collected in the decay underfoot.

Fire and magic devastated the landscape of the zhí'sher-ennor valley. The vast forests and grasslands, home of the zhí'sher-ennor, Zenfelrius's people, were all but gone, replaced with denigration and flame. The River of Life ran dry as the chassis of the zhí'sher-ennor began to stack. Zenfelrius could not bear to stand by and watch the annihilation of his own people. He turned and ran, hoping his hooves would carry him in time. He sprinted up the mountainside, only one thought on his mind. Around the spiraling cobbled road, he raced to the cave of the elders, the only unicorns he knew who could possibly stop the tragedy that threatened to overtake the zhí'sher-ennor.

His breath coming in short gasps, he halted outside the cavern wherein dwelt the most powerful unicorns of the age. The guards stood stoically, their eyes glassed over with the monotony of duty.

"What business have you with the elders?" they intoned.

"In a matter of hours, there will be no business," he answered furiously between breaths, "because there will be no elders. Let me pass."

The two sentries looked at each other for a moment, and then parted, allowing Zenfelrius to enter.

Zenfelrius had only ever seen the cave of elders once, but it was just as dazzling as when he was a foal. Iridescent crystal reflected light of every color, at moments glinting the same purple that hung on the tapestries lining the walls. On seven pedestals stood seven unicorns, one for each nation of their world. Zenfelrius took note of Khalea, the leader of the zhí'sher-ennor, and bowed in recognition. She dipped her head in kind.

On the central pedestal loomed the largest and most impressive of the elder unicorns, Ve'ian-Syfet, lord of the pegasi. In a show of grandeur, he tossed back his head and reared onto his hind legs, unfurling his wings and whinnying deeply.

"Zenfelrius of the zhí'sher-ennor," proclaimed Ve'ian-Syfet, "the elders acknowledge you. For what purpose do you seek our counsel?"

In his rage, Zenfelrius abandoned propriety.

"I should think that my purpose would be obvious, lord Ve'ian-Syfet," he snarled.

"Watch your tone, young one," bubbled Athuliu of the hippocampi. "We are not beholden to you. It would do you well to respect our authority."

"Your authority won't be worth the gravel under my hooves in ten minutes!" shouted Zenfelrius indignantly. "My people are dying, slaughtered by forces we've never even imagined, and you're standing here telling me to respect your superiority? How long do you think it'll be before they reach each of your homelands? And after that, the very cave in which we stand?"

"Our dwelling is protected with the most powerful enchantments of the seven nations, young warrior," echoed U'irshidé, shaman-queen of the sanaa'rit. "As for those unicorns who face an untimely end—" her ethereal body wavered here, as much a sign of respect as of sorrow "—there is nothing we can do."

"I refuse to believe that!" shouted Zenfelrius. "You can't sit and watch innocent unicorns die!"

"It pains us as much as it pains you, Zenfelrius," replied Khalea sadly, "but we have no choice. There is still much to assess in this situation. We must consider the variables and act accordingly."

"What variables?" countered Zenfelrius, now starting to pace across the quartz tiles. "You act, you provide aid to your fellows. What could be simpler?"

"You're failing to see the greater picture, dear," sang Enkiha, who took dominion as forest-mother of the rast'shukri. "We don't know what this army's capable of. If we use our powers to stop them now, their numbers might increase tenfold. To act now would be rash." Her kindly face tried to empathize with Zenfelrius, but in his anger, he saw only condescension.

"You don't understand—I can't do this! You ordered me not to enter the battle for a reason. I need to know why."