//------------------------------// // The Council // Story: The Age of Hunting // by SwordTune //------------------------------// The cow dropped dead. Beside it lay a deer, along with a few pets with various name tags around their necks. Spectra didn't realize her hunger had driven her body to such extremes as she drank the magic straight from their bodies. She was still young and needed her teeth to contact their flesh, but their magic came so quickly into her mouth now that she could take it in freely. She didn't stop until the last wisp of magic dripped from the cow's skin, like the last drop of water in a forgotten, rusting pipe. After that, she sat back. The lieutenant had picked a perfect safe house. It was located far from any part of the village Marina had seen, in the heart of where vagabonds and vagrants settled down to scrape together their living. She hadn't heard about it before, though she wasn't surprised. Reiter's father controlled the transportation in and out of the village; they weren't exactly connected to the poor. The Brute District it was sometimes called, according to her lieutenant. Named so because half of the ponies were former soldiers. Many were levied to go to war with some other competing village, only to return and find all their farms were untended wastelands. With nothing, their families sold their farms to rich buyers and moved here. It was a place a Changeling could hunt prey that would never be missed. The house they were in was hardly that. It was a single room, furnished with just a few chairs, a carpet in the centre, and a small fire pit. Even the ground it was built on was poor. Unlike the rest of the village, there were no barriers built to resist the effects of the river's annual floods, leaving the soil soft and the buildings half-sunken. For Spectra, it almost felt like home. "Princess Spectra, if you're done eating, I have news the captain needs you to hear." The lieutenant had taken a mare's form. Though they called each other brothers, none of the drones had any reproductive organs, and thus no sex to conform to the division that ponies had for themselves. Still, the lieutenant's choice was curious. The aggressive nature of Changelings made most drones identify as male. Spectra listened to the hunter-drone as she chewed into the abdomen of the cow, tearing out a piece of its liver. She learned early on that magic could not make a body from nothing. She was still young and spent a considerable about of mass changing her form. She'd need to replenish some of it. The chunk of liver was still wet and warm as she swallowed it whole, savouring its taste as sensation as it filled her. Finally, she wiped the blood from her mouth with a piece of cloth the lieutenant left on the floor and sat happily on one of the chairs. "Now I'm done," she said. "Go ahead and tell me the explanation the captain has for the delay." The lieutenant nodded, glowing her disguise's horn and levitating a map onto the carpet between them. "We've had engagements with Marblestop ponies at the perimeter of the nest. It seems Riverfork's reluctance to accept them has forced them onto our side of the river." "Ponies can hardly fight," Spectra said, recalling how she had beaten the two apprentices so easily. "Is the captain really troubled by a few strays?" "As you say, princess," the hunter-drone said in deference, "but there's more. Most refugee camps are just groups of unorganized tents, but a few have shown impressive organization." The drone produced images of the camps sketched in charcoal. The tents were sectioned off to provide clear entrances and exits, with makeshift watchtowers built in the branches of surrounding trees. "The captain thinks they're the remains of Marblestop's militia," explained the lieutenant, pointing to the sketch of the Marblestop banner. "They were weaker at first, simply sending scouts and clearing forests, but a few days ago a group of ten were sent with a herd of refugees, likely looking for a better campsite for others of their kind." "You had to stop them from getting to the nest," Spectra guessed the next part. The drone nodded. "We've been launching small attacks throughout their camps, militia and regular, to make them think the nest is closer than it really is. So far, they haven't caught on." "How long has this gone on?" Spectra asked. "Three days," was the answer. They wouldn't hold out, Spectra thought to herself as she looked at the map. There were five camps in total, two of them belonging to the militia. But they would grow. From Cooper's workshop, she could hear whispers about the refugee situation. Every day ponies pleaded to the council, but every day dozens more were turned away at the docks. More camps would pop up around the nest. And sooner or later, they were going to find it. "I need to know how bad it is," Spectra said. "How has the captain and groundskeeper reacted?" "The captain made a comment about needed reinforcements after a raid," the lieutenant told Spectra. "The groundskeeper's more optimistic. About half of our attacks have been him alone, blasting magic at the militia camps to keep them overworked." Spectra nodded, thinking on her next move. Reinforcements from the hive would definitely destroy the remains of Marblestop's resistance, but the captain wasn't in her position. This was part of her hunt, her chance to prove herself to the Queen. Her mother would not be impressed if she couldn't handle complications on her own, even if it was her sister's fault. Her best bet was Riverfork. The refugees were near the nest because the village council wouldn't accept them. If she could use Reiter's connections to change that, the ponies would leave the pack alone the moment the docks were open to them. There was still the problem of time, however. Getting Riverfork to change would take time, and the more refugees there were, the harder it'd become to stop so many from simply overrunning the pack and destroying the nest. A stronger strategy was needed to keep the refugees in disarray. "Tell the captain to stop attacking scouting parties," she commanded the lieutenant after reviewing her plan in her head. "Start watching for supply boats entering the camps and attack when they unload their goods. Take or burn as much as their food as possible. Then, the militia should start defending their own camps more." The lieutenant nodded, seeing the wisdom in the plan. "And tell the groundskeeper I want him to infiltrate the camps and eliminate their leadership," Spectra added. Her hunter-drone stopped and looked at her as if what she said was inconceivable. "You want us to tell the groundskeeper what to do?" "I want you to take my orders to him," Spectra reiterated. But it wasn't enough. The lieutenant shook her head. "He only listens to the Queen, he won't stop defending the nest." Spectra gritted her teeth. "Then tell him my plan will keep his precious nest safe. Assassinating the Marblestop leadership will send them into disarray. It'll be easy to push them out." "I can try, princess," the lieutenant said. She heard the doubt in her drone's voice, but Spectra was confident the groundskeeper knew what he had to do to keep the nest secured. The sky turned a shade of grey. The change was barely noticeable, but in the privacy of their safe house, both Changelings let their natural senses operate normally, not capped by their disguised forms. The sun was still a long way away, but given another hour bakers would start heating their ovens and tailor would have their clothes pressed and ready. "Go now," Spectra told the lieutenant. "Keep the refugees away, leave the rest to me." The lieutenant gave her a confident nod, her magic exuding trust in her princess, as all drones had. Spectra watched as the hunter-drone dropped out of her pony form, bathing herself in green magic and reforming her flesh into its black, chitinous origins. In the night, a Changeling's natural colour was perfect for flying through the sky undetected. After she took off, Spectra slumped in her chair. She'd have to go back to Cooper's workshop and forget everything that had happened, but come up with a way to get the Riverfork council to let in the refugees. Marina looked back at the pile of dead meat. It reminded her of home when she could play with pony trinkets like distant promises and freely whenever a stupid rat or lizard wandered by. Before leaving, she decided to enjoy every memory of what it was to be a Changeling. She lied down by the corpses and breathed the salty smell of blood. She tore each open and swallowed their best parts; liver, thigh, ribs, marrow, Spectra sampled them all. But most importantly she felt the blood on her coat, rolling around in the innards of the cow and deer and pets, some of them still a little warm. In only a few minutes every part of her was drenched red. She stood up, her eyes blurred by the blood dripping from her mane. Even when shortened, the brown hair still managed to stick to her eyelids. Spectra reached inwards for a small draw of her magic. Even a little bit, in a small burst, would be enough to clean herself off. In a split moment, like the flash of a lightning bolt, a field of magic ejected from her horn, pushing aside the blood stuck to her coat and skin. The safe house was painted in blood now, though no doubt the lieutenant would return later and clean it up. Marina stepped carefully, avoiding getting any blood on her hooves, and exited the door. The stars were still out but were beginning to dwindle away. It was a sign that soon the sun would come, and she'd have to finish thirty more horseshoes and whatever other orders Cooper Hammer needed to fill. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Finished with those key rings?" Ferron asked as he cut a hot sheet of brass to shape into name tags. "Cooled and ready to ship," Marina replied. "Alright," he said. "I'll get them to Cooper if you can finish up the tags here." Silently, Marin took Ferron's spot and continued hammering out name tags. Her mind wasn't on the work, however. The past three days she had spent every idle moment learning about Riverfork's politics. Reiter may have had all the connections she needed to get her voice heard, but she still needed to be convincing. Three borrowed books sat in her room as she worked, detailing the history of Riverfork's leaders, and it surprised Marina that the ponies were able to get anything done. There was the council, five ponies who proposed and voted on new laws for the village. In times of emergency, they were the ones who could control the village militia and enact immediate wartime commands. But they weren't the hardest part. Marina found that ponies were possessed by the idea that dividing control would keep them safe from oppressors. The Assembly of Citizens, it had been eventually named, was another hundred elected ponies who voted on whatever the council passed. This meant unless there was a state of panic, Marina would have to convince both parts of leadership to allow Marblestop refugees into the village. Her status as a Marblestop blacksmith would let her speak up on behalf of refugees without raising suspicion, but that left little followers who would back her. She had asked Reiter a few days ago to arrange a meeting with the council but doubted that would be enough. She'd have to talk to them, convince them. It wouldn't be like commanding drones. She kept at it, formulating argument after argument that could make accepting refugees a better choice. Labor, trade, and stronger numbers, they were all similar reasons for expanding a hive. So, she wondered, what was stopping the council from voting on a law to let the refugees in? Marina heard the bell above the shop's door ring, followed by Reiter's calls. "Marina, you in here?" She went out to meet him, leaving only a few stray name tags to be rounded off and polished. He stood along with Esilis, waiting at the door. "You're here, that's good," she said. "Were you able to arrange a hearing with the council?" "Favors have their uses," Reiter said, though not happily. "And their limits. Lunti's father sniffed me out and threatened to have me thrown in jail for indecency." "Honestly, what did you do with her?" Marina wondered. "Don't bother asking," Esilis chuckled, punching Reiter in the shoulder. "I've asked too many times, and heard every excuse he has to ignore me." "There are more important things right now," he said, completely ignoring the two mare's inquiries. "I didn't come out empty hoofed." "Rumours don't count," Esilis remarked, covering up Reiter's face with her wing. "Before he says anything, take it cautiously." Reiter shoved her wing aside and coughed feathers back. "It's not rumoured. I literally did not come empty hoofed." He reached into his pocket and produced a scrap of paper. "I couldn't talk about much, Lunti's father was in the room right next to us, but she did slip me this." Marina grabbed it and read the note. My maids whispered something about Marblestop officials smuggling themselves into the village. They should be here this evening. It came from a long line of mouths, but I think it's worth looking into. From the camps, Marina thought to herself. The ban applied to all, or else they wouldn't need to be smuggled in. But, once in the city, the council wouldn't dare arrest the officers while the Marblestop militia waited across the river. They'd have to hear them out. From then on, the ethics ponies valued so much would give the officers the advantage. "Reiter showed it to me too," Esilis added. "I don't believe it, but it's a good way to get the day off. I talked to a few friends and we'll be in the crowds to throw in our support." "When the officers show up, they'll see us, and you'll get an audience with them." Reiter finished. So she couldn't meet with the council, but these ponies could. These leaders, whom she had ordered her pack to assassinate, would live just a little longer. She would speak to them and ensure they burned the refugee ban to ashes with their words. She found it funny, how her plan to kill off the Marblestop leadership was clearly too late, only to evolve into using them while they lived. "I'll get Ferron to cover the workshop for the afternoon," she told them. "Meet in an hour?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The square outside the council hall was bordered on three sides by temples, each boasting small markets of goods. Idols of spirits, nature gods, and food prepared as offerings were spread across tables as keepers of the temples encouraged ponies to support their deities. It was a symbol, of course, that the council hall presided over all these temples. Spectra appreciated the show of power as if the building itself declared that all gods and spirits were under its lawful watch, and was elevated on fifteen polished marble steps to prove the point. But today ponies were not out for the gods. In the pavilion at the centre of the square, the only structure made of white marble pillars with a marble top was a crier. The pony's voice was his natural talent as he shouted the names of the arriving Marblestop officers. "Your rumours were right," Esilis retorted as the three friends watched the carriage arrive before the council. They stood between the pavilion and the road the carriage entered on. They weren't up front to wave at the officers, but could still see over the heads of the ponies in front of them. Marina nodded, acknowledging Esilis's retort, but it concerned her. The council clearly knew the officers were arriving, taking any surprise they had and throwing it away. And, as Esilis had done with her friends, they rallied a crowd. Marina gritted her teeth. The point of the officers smuggling themselves into the village was to catch the council off guard and pressure them into dropping the ban. Now they were even greeted by a crier and, most likely, would be provided lodgings until a meeting time would be provided. Marina's mind raced. The welcome was a ploy. If they officers refused the hospitality, they'd be cast in a poor light and wield little power at the council meeting. If they accepted, they'd be a place to stay while the council prepared their debate for keeping up the ban. A shudder sneaked under Marina's skin. This was politics at its fullest. In the hive, her sisters were the only threats to her power, threats easily silenced with ferocity and brute savagery. But not on the surface. Whichever council member had heard of the officers and formulated this plan was not some livestock for Changelings, but a calculating strategist. She could read the plan, but even this never occurred to her, and that was what scared her the most. "The village of Riverfork welcomes Commander Iridi of the Marblestop Militia," the crier told all who could hear. From the carriage, Marina watched a pale-coated stallion step out onto the dirt road that the carriage had come by. The dust still settling from the wheels dirtied his hooves, but he only dusted off his fabrics, armour made of laminated linen and leather, reinforced with bronze scales. The next pony carried none of the militancy of Iridi but replaced it with grace. "Espera Voxa, Speaker for the Four Stones of Faith, Riverfork is pleased to have you." The mare, however, barely waited for the crier to finish the introduction. She stepped out and moved briskly after the commander. The way she walked, Marina noticed, seemed impatient. Though she was certain others were focused on the way her thin white silks danced in the air as she walked, revealing her light-rose coat underneath. Marina's eyes flicked to Esilis, who was nudging Reiter to take more care with his prying eyes. "Welcome, Governor Seiris," the crier continued. "You honour Riverfork with your presence." The stallion who emerged from the carriage was younger than the others. He was, Marina estimated, just barely an adult. He was too young to be governor by normal standards, however, she really wasn't in a position to mock him even if it was in her head. She herself was really only a few months old, after all. Nonetheless, he walked without a care for the adoring mares in the crowd who stood closer to the procession. His younger complexion and healthy, shining coat was evidently a mark of good breed. Spectra wondered if his magic would taste any sweeter than the others. Marina spotted Esilis this time, her jaw dropped slightly. If surviving officers of Marblestop were so popular, it wouldn't be easy to get their attention. But she didn't bet everything on this opportunity just to lose to a crowd of prey. She hooked her hoof around Esilis's and dragged her closer to the front, with Reiter following behind. Mares and stallions eager to see the upper ranks of Marblestop society grumbled as they passed, but Marina hissed at any who tried to stand up for themselves. She moved as close as the guards outside the council hall would allow and focused her ear on the officers' voices. "What's happening Iridi?" The Espera turned to the militia commander. "You said no pony knew we'd be coming. We show up, and a herd of guards escort us to the village centre." "Don't blame him too much," the governor interceded. "Riverfork has eyes and ears from all parts of the rivers. I'm not surprised we were found out, though I'm glad we weren't simply assassinated in the countryside." Suddenly the door to the council hall opened, the braziers inside casting a light brighter than the scarlet setting sun. Out came five stallions dressed in brightly dyed tunics that made Reiter's clothing look like a mud stain on a grey carpet. One walked ahead of the other four, casting his voice into the crowd as he trotted down the pristine white steps. "I was overjoyed to hear of your visit, Governor Seiris," the council member spoke. "Though I'm afraid it had to come by me though rather unprofessional avenues. I'm sorry for the loss your village has suffered." The young governor stomped up, taking three of the marble steps for himself. "Not sorry enough to let my ponies into your village." His voice boiled with anger, and even at his distance, Marina could still smell it, like savoury sage-roasted potatoes. Yet his words were measured and paced, not giving the council enough fire to call him an arsonist. The stallion stopped halfway down and raised a hoof in defence of himself. "I know you have grievances, but our village doesn't work like yours. We have other matters at hoof, and in any case, it'll take time for the Assembly of Citizens to convene and hear whatever you have to say. Until then, we would be more than happy to provide guest rooms here in the council hall." Marina could smell his emotion flipping and adrenaline rushing, considering the situation as she had. What would he do? She imagined herself in his position, and the answer became clear. "We'd be happy to accept your hospitality," Seiris said. A veil washed over his magic, masking his emotions from Marina. It threw her off. Was he calm, or was this a trick unicorns could do? Either way, it was clear he gained the title of Governor for good reason. He knew how to control, both himself and an unexpected situation. He couldn't reject the offer and go back to the refugees with nothing. They'd never respect him if he did. "Excellent," smiled the council member. He waved his hoof invitingly while telling the guards to clear the crowd and lead the guests to their rooms. Prisoners, more like, Marina almost hissed her thoughts out loud. The council was taking her pawns in this game. "I guess loose lips are everywhere, Reiter," Esilis mocked Reiter as they, and the rest of the ponies, were ushered back toward the temples. He frowned. "It's not like I could predict that the council would already know. I thought that if they did, they'd just enforce the ban and kick them out." "I need to get in there," Marina fumed. She turned to Reiter. "Maybe I could meet this Lunti you always talk about." Esilis stepped beside Marina and whispered with her head lowered. "Total bitch." If Reiter heard, he definitely didn't show any sign. "That's too much for me. Even my dad couldn't do something like that," Reiter said. "I'm sorry, but this is as far as my connections can go." Marina sucked her breath in, trying not to scream. The ponies she needed were right there. A proper hunt would take months to accomplish. Settling down, solidifying her position in the village, meeting ponies and sampling the strongest love, it could not be rushed. She needed her pack to supply her, but it was impossible with the refugees at the border of the nest. Esilis wrapped her wing around Marina. "Just shows how far you can go with money and a pretty face." She smiled and shot a cheeky wink at Reiter. "I think I can show you how far some good friends can get you." She broke off the embrace and motioned them to follow with her wing. "Even a store clerk knows a few good ponies." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Keep your eyes low and just fetch whatever they want." Harrier, a council hall maid. This other unfortunate pegasus happened to be Esilis's friend, to no surprise of Marina. One wing was painfully shredded, the irregular marks telling it was an accident against some dense forest. Marina walked awkwardly, trying to fit into the same black and white uniform Harrier seemed to have no trouble moving in. The top was bad enough, constricting at the waist where a blacksmith's would be loose. But worse still was the skirt, cutting short when any reasonable tunic would have continued. Marina felt both cold and on display. "How do you put up with this?" Marina growled, tugging at uniform to loosen it up just a little. "I can barely breathe." "That's a shame," Harrier smirked, tracing her eyes along Marina. "You wear it so well. You'd definitely become some pony's favourite." Marina's eyes widened, but she shook off the feeling of violation. She'd go to any length to make sure her hunt ended successfully, but nothing said she had to enjoy the animal desires of ponies. "In a few hours the guests will be served," Harrier said as she led her to the broom closet. "For now, just do some chores around the hall. I'll tell you when it's time to ask them what they'd like for supper." Marina nodded and levitated a broom out of the closet. Harrier left to check on the other maids working around the hall, leaving her to quietly sweep all the rooms. Marina took it as an opportunity to map out the council hall, and perhaps learn more about the members themselves. There were more parts of the hall than Marina expected. She swept the staff wing, the library, the Assembly meeting chambers, and skipped over the council meeting chamber whose doors were locked. She swept past a few guards, ignoring their jeering eyes, cleaning deep into the office wing. There were doors up and down the hallways with the names of the council members, and a few Assembly members, engraved in brass. Marina's memory was blurry, but she recalled council member Gentry, Lunti's father, as she passed his office. She peered down the hall. Marina suspected she wasn't supposed to clean the offices themselves, but there weren't any guards beyond the two at the entrance to this wing of the council hall. Once she realized she could do it, she pressed her ears up to the doors, making sure there was no pony in them. No Assembly members were present, and the council was likely still in session to discuss the Marblestop officers. Marina slipped into council member Gentry's office without any more hesitation. She needed every detail on the council. She needed their letters, their personal notes. Carefully, the papers on the desk were levitated, read by the light of Marina's horn. [centre]Half of the Assembly would raise an army against me if I agreed to this. Restructuring the merchant and banking guilds in this way is going to piss off every Assembly member representing the farmers. The last council members tried this and it caused a ten-day riot. I'm not giving a yes on this until my security bill passes. The last line of the letter confirmed the council was not completely united. With the Assembly sharing power, they could only collude through favours, making each other seem successful to the scrutiny of other ponies. [centre]I know it goes against your refugee ban, but I won't make empty requests. I'll drop the guild issue after this and get on board with Stamp Ink's version of the tax bill. It was another letter to Gentry, written in a more artful manner than the other. At the bottom of the paper, it was signed Chevron Stitch. Marina hurried over to his office. His letter sounded like he was to one to ruin her plans of surprise. He wasn't an overbearing power in the council but played what he had very well. Evidently, whatever promises he made to Lunti's father was worth it. Chevron's office, unlike Gentry's, was ordered and wiped clean. Judging by the dust on his desk, she guessed it was cleaned this morning. His organization vexed her. Gentry's mess was no worse after she had riffled through it, but to read through Chevron's notes without being noticed would take a lot more time than she had. She peeled away carefully at the first few letters neatly placed upon his desk. Something, anything, that told her his motives would be helpful. But they were just personal letters. A bill for new candles, some requests from Assembly members, and an unopened letter. The letter was at the bottom of the pile, so untouched even the edges were perfect, unwrinkled by any handling. It was possible he didn't even know it was on his desk. "Forget it, it's not worth the risk," she scowled to herself. But she didn't take her eyes off the letter. She felt around her uniform for somewhere to slip the envelope without it falling out. "Hope he doesn't come looking for it," she sighed, concealing the thing between her clothes and her chest. She levitated her broom, closed and locked Chevron's door, and broke into a near gallop for the kitchen. It was almost supper time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Whatever you have to say, just remember to actually ask them what they want for supper," Harrier told Marina just as they approached the guest rooms. "I still have my job to do, you know." Marina nodded. Through the door, she could hear hushed voices of the officers debating over their next action. "I don't like, Seiris," the Espera said, sounding like she was speaking through gritted teeth. "My plan hasn't changed, Voxa," the governor insisted. "Stop acting like we're prisoners and enjoy the first real bedroom we've had in weeks. We'll need the rest for the meeting tomorrow." "You almost make it sound like we're on a vacation," grunted the commander. "And you've been making this out to be a prison sentence," Seiris countered. "Now, do you both trust me?" There was a momentary pause, followed by a unanimous, "Not really." "Hm, fair enough," the governor conceded. "But just let me do the talking anyway." Marina waited a few seconds to see if there was anything else. Half a minute passed and she decided she needed to initiate the next move. She knocked on the door. Seiris opened up almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for something to interrupt his discussion with the other officers. "Right on time!" he said cheerfully. "You cannot imagine how hungry we are." Marina drew a short breath, reading the scent of their magic. Both Voxa and Iridi were agitated, their body flushed with all the natural signs of stress. But even face to face, she couldn't read Seiris. Whatever his trick was, it didn't matter. Marina walked into the room, forcing her way into the room and closing the door behind her. The foyer was small, just a writing desk and a couple sofas. A small corridor led to the other bedrooms of the guest wing. "What are you doing?" The commander barked. His horn glowed and Marina could see the levitation spell responding, gripping a knife handle hidden under his armor. Magic pooled in the Espera's horn too, though the spell glowed bright hot like a ball of fire. "See Seiris? I told you this would happen!" "I'm Marina, a blacksmith," she pressed back against their hostility. "I left Marblestop before the attack, and only found out a few weeks ago when I arrived." The two traded looks at each other, and then at their governor. He simply shrugged. "Let her speak. Supper clearly won't be showing soon." They relaxed and retracted their magic. "Thank you," she said. "Since I arrived I've heard nothing but bad news. I didn't have any family left there, but I still want to help however I can. You're here to get the council to lift the ban, aren't you?" "Ideally," Seiris said, taking a seat on the sofa. "But right now I'm sure the council is preparing a speech to defend their position." "You said you were a blacksmith," the Espera noted. "You don't really look the part." Marina looked down at the uniform, reminded of what she was forced to wear. "The hall has guards at the doors and in every wing. A friend managed to sneak me in, but only like this." "So, you're a bag of surprises, aren't you?" the Governor said. "I'm glad to have your support, though I don't really know what you could do in this situation." "What do you know about the council?" Marina suggested to them. All three ponies shrugged. "Marblestop trades a lot with Riverfork," Seiris said. "But that's just between merchants. I can't remember the last time our governments needed to meet in this way before." "I hear they can influence one temple to get more offerings than others" the Espera added, her face souring. "It's dishonourable to involve the spirits in such politics." Really? Marina wondered. This, coming from the mare who's official position was a religious leader? Marina thought for a moment. Of course, the council wanted to keep their internal affairs private. To the others, they were a unified body controlling the richest village in Equestria. But each of them had their own agenda, ones that could be exploited to gain favour with some members. "I did some investigating around their offices," Marina told the three of them. "I know they seem like a team, but the council isn't a single unit. Each of them wants something for the city. If you can give that to them, the council members would be willing to trade their favour for it." "Give them what, exactly?" the commander asked. Marina shook her head. "I didn't have enough time to look through everything." She reached into her uniform and produced the unopened letter. "But I did take this from council member Chevron's office. I have no idea what it is, but it could be of some value." Seiris grabbed it immediately and tore the envelope with his teeth. "Better odds than before," he remarked, levitating the paper in the air to read. [centre]I won't do this anymore. I can't. Either he'll find out, or just stop listening to me. I know you want your secrets hidden, and I can still do that, but you'll have to control the council some other way. Maybe, once everything becomes quiet again, we'll meet like we used to at your family's farm. But until then, I'm sorry. "No signature," Voxa sighed. "But clearly this 'Chevron' has strings we can pull." "True," Seiris agreed. "Thank you, Marina. Maybe before tomorrow, we can find out more." Marina didn't reply. She only stared hard at the writing style. The commander eyed her. "She looks under a spell." "Don't be ridiculous," Seiris scoffed. He waved a hoof in front of Marina. "Hello? Mares are usually stunned when they first see me, not in the middle of a conversation." Marina blinked. She didn't need to see the signature, the letter was the signature. "I know who wrote this." She shook her head, trying to clear it up. "I know that horn writing because that pony gave my friend a note this morning." She grabbed the letter in her magic and brought it close to scrutinize. The twist of a letter, the spacing, it was all the same. "It's from Lunti, council member Gentry's daughter." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There was a brief moment of stunned silence. And then it was gone. "Haha!" Seiris leapt off the sofa, throwing the fluffed pillows onto the carpet. He grabbed Marina and kissed her forehead. "This is great. No, it's perfect!" Suddenly the dam that blocked his magic cleared, and she could smell the joy inside him. Moreover, darker feeling brewed, his mind likely already weighing the options. "Governor, calm yourself!" the Espera hushed. "The fortune of this letter is not lost on any of us, but the council members are still in the hall with us." "Let him have his moment," Iridi smirked. "They're likely still drafting what they'll say for our meeting. The council meeting chamber is nowhere near us." "No, Voxa is right," Seiris blurted, a smile still contorting his face with excitement. "Now is the time to act. Blackmail Chevron, or inform Gentry in return for a favour?" Two sound options. Either council member would have some sway over others, Marina guessed. It was likely they'd gain more than just pony on their side regardless of which path they took. But they had to choose. Taking both sides wouldn't work; as soon as Gentry found out, he'd confront Chevron, making the blackmail pointless. "Gentry deserves to know," Espera Voxa threw in her voice in the matter. "We'll be doing a good act in the eyes of the spirits, and be helping out ponies." "But Chevron, he was the one who greeted us," Seiris replied. Marina raised a brow. "Are you sure? How could you tell?" "I am Governor," he answered simply. "It's my job to know other leaders, even if dealings with them are rare." "If he leads them, he's the one we need to control," the commander finished Seiris's thought. "But he could have easily turned you away," Marina added. "I saw some letters that I couldn't take that sounded like inviting you to stay instead of arresting you was his idea. He might have plans that align with ours." Voxa nodded. "If he's already willing to help us, we may not need to waste the knowledge we have." "Key word if," Seiris said. "Then think about the consequences of blackmailing him," Marina reasoned aloud. "We're outsiders, standing at the seat of Chevron's power. We don't even know if blackmailing would work on him. He could have all of us exiled from the village." "Wrong deeds are quickly punished by the spirits," Espera Voxa reiterated. "Even Riverfork gods hold the same rule. Turn on Chevron, and we may lose an ally instead of gaining one." "Fine," Seiris relented, sitting back down in the slightly disturbed sofa. "Marina's weaselled her way in here with her own wit. If you two agree," he turned to commander Iridi, "then we've no choice but to listen." The commander said nothing else but simply nodded to his governor. "I suppose we'll need some pony to carry out this plot, then," Voxa said, pointing her horn at Marina. "You've gotten this far. Do you think you can go a little farther?" Any lengths necessary. Marina nodded. "Just tell me your demands and I'll make sure Gentry hears it." "Of course, however," the young Governor clutched his belly. "Maybe we could plan that out over some food? Not that I'm ungrateful for your service, but supper would be nice as well." Marina wanted to slam her head into a wall. All this, the luck of picking the right letter, of knowing Lunti's writing, of simply being able to find a disguise and walk around the hall unnoticed, and he wanted food? She supposed her own hunger wasn't much different, but at the very least she knew how to control it. Ponies and their paltry, fibrous foods were inefficient compared to how much energy magic gave her. If their bodies ever figured out a way to use it instead of food, perhaps the hive would have real competition. But, she supposed nothing could be done about it. "Right, of course," she forced a smile. "The council hall is stocked with food from all corners of Equestria. Just ask for anything, and the kitchen staff will have it." The commander's mouth watered and his eyes glistened. "Spinach-stuffed artichoke." "And lentil stew cooked in eastern spices," Seiris hastily added. Voxa simply scoffed at them. "Stallions and their appetites. Even with our village at stake, you two can't control yourselves." Iridi cast a dirty look at Voxa. "Don't act so mighty, you're as hungry as the rest of us, I'm sure." "The spirits endowed ponies with discipline for health," she retorted. The commander raised a sceptical brow. "Your figure has no complaints. You can spare a few courses." As if to agree with his point, the Espera's stomached growled. She sighed. "I suppose I wouldn't say no to a bowl of couscous with coconut puree." "Alright, if that's all-" "No, wait," Seiris interjected. "Do they have Alllreci dipping oil for the bread?" "Yes." He didn't give her any time to say more. "I want some." "And serve it with the flatbread," Voxa shamefully added, now that she had given in. Marina sucked in her impatience. It didn't matter. She'd let them have their night and carry out whatever task was needed to get the council to take in the refugees. Then, she'd start making plans to lure away her prey. She had on some pony now. One whose love was strained but still true, who'd feel the sting of betrayal and the shame of revelation. She took down the long list of dishes the officers wanted and left the room, hurrying back to the kitchen where the cooks were no doubt impatient, all the while aware of her predatory grin she was trying so desperately to conceal. She didn't even know the poor mare, but Lunti was beginning to become her key piece in this great game she called a hunt. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The council meeting chamber was a large semi-circular room situated at the centre of the council hall. The interior was made of solid carved wood. Each member's seat was raised on lacquered wooden steps that climbed up and put their chairs, thrones, heads above their audience. The scale of the room was clearly made to intimidate, but the ponies before them now were more than familiar with politics. Marina, invited at Seiris's request, sat far back and watched as the three officers of Marblestop demanded that Riverfork open its borders. She smirked as her nose passed over the smell of Gentry's magic. It wasn't hard to set his emotions on fire. "You're lying," he had said when she snuck into his office after the council had ended their discussion. He had tried to call for the guards but was wise to stop when he saw the letter. Last night she had wanted to suck the anguish from his heart as he read the letter over and over, but smelling the magic in the room now was much better. "Half your refugees are your soldiers, commander," one of the council members said. "How can we trust you when you have an army across our home?" He smelled of olive oil; a unique product processed by Marblestop crafters, Marina remembered from the groundskeeper's notes on the village. He rejected their ponies while valuing their produce. Such hypocrisy was an exceptionally special smell. Gentry countered the olive-scented stallion, exactly as Marina had told him to. "You can't be serious. Their army is why we need them. How long will Riverfork remain free from the Changelings' fangs? Marblestop is less than a week away by boat, they could be ready to strike us as we speak!" "And what if they are compromised?" Chevron asked. Marina eyed him carefully. His seat was in the middle, with two of the council members at each side. "I want to help our neighbours, but we cannot ignore this possibility." "We know we are not, council member Chevron," Seiris said. "And Gentry is right. We've come now because our ponies have been running into Changelings in your forests. They've attacked and killed our ponies the same way they killed our village the first time around. If they were in our ranks why fight at all? We'd never know they were there." No, you wouldn't indeed. All their talking, deliberating, arguing, it pleased Marina. Words passed back and forth, ultimately pointless. Gentry's vote was already cast, and Chevron seemed sympathetic to the Marblestop officers as well. Seeing this, all but the oil-scented council members eventually let themselves be "convinced" it was best to lift the ban, though Marina suspected the truth was that both Chevron and Gentry had pulled invisible strings to get what they wanted. "Why tell me?" He had finally asked her, after coming to terms with the letter. "That bastard Chevron controls the council. And only now I see he's been controlling my daughter too." "Because I believe he'll already go along with what I want," Marina had explained to Gentry. She could smell his emotions flaring inside at the final vote. When all things were said, the five let their stance be clearly known. "All in favour of abolishing the Marblestop refugee ban, raise one hoof." Chevron's hoof was already in the air as he said this, quickly followed by Gentry, seething. "I won't side with the stallion who's been..." That night Gentry's anger went beyond what Marina had ever felt before. Anger was such a strong emotion, but it was too common, its taste easily becoming bland to a Changeling. But not Gentry's, not last night. "You will, if you want me to do you a favour," Marina had said. It wasn't part of the officers' plan, but one she had come up with on the spot to suit her own needs. Anyways, an influence as strong as Chevron's could not be allowed to interfere with her in the future. "I got this to you without being caught," she had told Gentry. "I can help you get revenge, however, you see fit. Just vote for my fellow citizens." The final result was four to one, in favour of Marblestop. The oil-scented pony glared at the rest of the council, his eyes glaring with an anger that didn't sit well on Marina's tongue. But it didn't matter. The legislation was in the hooves of the Assembly now. With a few well-placed words of the Changeling threat, courtesy of Gentry himself, they would be rushing to invite Marblestop and its fighting force to stand against the Changeling horde. Marina finally tore herself from her thoughts once she stepped out of the council hall, watching over the village from the highest marble step. "The Assembly meets in a day," Seiris said, walking up beside her. "I spoke briefly with Gentry as we left. He'll uphold the rest of our terms and get them to affirm the council's decision." Marina chuckled. "In truth, I had wanted to do this myself. I thought I could walk into the council and tell them how much our ponies are suffering. I thought I could win them over by being good." He turned to her, raising a curious brow. "Thought?" "Now I've learned how this works," she nodded. "No pony cares. If they are good, a leader will do the bad things necessary to achieve their goal. If they are bad, then it is doubly so." "You should have been born a politician's daughter," Seiris stomped a hoof on the marble step in laughter. "Though if you were, I might not be Governor right now." Marina brought her story to the surface of her mind. Her imagined father, a stallion of hard work and good character, who died before he could see his daughter's glory. Something about the story put her on the defensive. "I was born to the good ponies," she hissed, directing disgust to the rest of the world. "My parents knew the value of honest, hard work. I don't want anything to do with your politics." "I don't blame you," Seiris agreed. "Even now, Voxa and Iridi are having tea with the council members, making connections to strengthen their position for the future. I think that's what makes you better than the rest of us. You know when to call it and just live a good life." She smiled bid farewell to the Governor, and walked away with her heart pounding in her chest. Lies. She was the worst of them, a monster wrapped in lies. She was born in the hive but now, more than ever, she realized she was destined for the surface and the shadowy games ponies played. If she wasn't already a princess, then up here, she could become a queen.