The sisters were a sight to behold.

The area were they did battle was now strewn with grand upheavals of earth from magical blasts. The ground was scorched for torrents of fire that had been unleashed. Gouges where streaks of lightning been cast down. Patches of ice that either encased entire changelings or impaled several more with sharp icicle from frost magic that they had cast. They had slew by score but still the enemy came without pause or reprieve. But it mattered little to the sisters as any assault slung at them fell short, for their magic was mighty and before such a force, the changelings appeared helpless.

They were not kind and benevolent alicorns this day. Today they were warriors who showed all who thought less why this was their land, show them who they faced. They were the Sun and the Moon. Mares born from time long forgotten that were forged in battles whose fires burned far hotter than this pathetic skirmish. Battle mistresses of the Dragon King. Perjurers of Chaos The Sisters of the Sky

They were death incarnate.