//------------------------------// // Chapter I: King of The Garden // Story: Junker's Travels // by JunkerRabbit //------------------------------// Chapter I King of the Garden "Two stalks," Junker spat. "Y-yes," the nervous squirrel squeaked, "as I mentioned, my comrades and I were not very successful at staying hidden, and when the cart driver saw us-" "NO EXCUSES!" Junker roared back furiously, cutting the timid squirrel off mid-sentence, "There was enough celery in that cart to supply us for days! Do you realize how frustrated you make me?" "P-p-please!" The squirrel finally managed, "Don't do anything to me, Mr. Junker, sir!" "Oh, but I can't let this go unjustified, now can I?" Junker lowered his voice, if only to sound more menacing. He paused for a minute, contemplating. "Alright," he said after what seemed like forever to the poor squirrel, "Your punishment shall be . . . lightened. You are free to stay here in the gardens, but you are officially demoted to rank nine. Understand?" "Rank . . . Nine?" The squirrel gulped, "Sir, please I have a large family to feed and-" "RANK NINE OR YOU'RE OUT OF THE GARDEN!" The squirrel shrieked in horror and ran, leaving Junker feeling slightly satisfied at his superiority. Still, he wanted that celery very much. The thought of having over five hundred stalks of celery slip through his paws thanks to some incompetent little squirrel quickly put him back in a bitter mood. After being the birthright to the position as leader of the animals of the Royal Canterlot Garden, and having more at his doorstep than he could have ever imagined, he was quickly spoiled and started abusing his power. His name, Junker, was his mother's idea, coming from her disgust at his eating habits of taking one bite of something and then trashing it, making it inedible to others. The only reason he kept the insult of a name was because it gave him a sense of power. It made him more intimidating. It secured his place as leader. After his father died on short notice, Junker quickly snatched the crown up before any of his many siblings could claim it. He had always been grabby that way. After taking the crown, he divided up the animals into nine ranks. He was rank one, and as the number of the rank became higher, the food was shared with you, and the closer you were to being kicked out of the garden completely. Junker lived up to his previous habit of wasting food, and therefore the rank system hardly mattered, as no one but Junker got much to eat. Furthermore, Junker forced all the animals to do his dirty work, most of which was stripping the Canterlot Castle's food supply of its vegetables. The ponies always assumed that it was pony crooks, as the animals were usually good about leaving no trace. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Alder moped back to the small nook he was provided in one of the many giant oaks. The celery heist had been rather unsuccessful due to nothing but rotten luck and poor timing. He was surprised and very pleased that his team had still managed to get away with two whole stalks before fleeing. Alder had prayed Junker would see the effort and dedication instead of just the poor outcome. The confrontation with Junker was worse than the heist. Alder had worked his entire life to get up to a rank two position, and in one fell swoop Junker stripped him of his rank, sending him to the brink of exile. The large family he spoke of was a lie, as having any family at all under the tyrant's rule was basically impossible; even at his previous high rank, he woke up every morning with a stomachache from hunger. The lower ranks had it worse. Many of them died from starvation, getting as little as one measly vegetable every five or six days. Now that he was among them, he feared he might not live to climb back up the ranks before dying of starvation. Alder was alive when Chantency, Junker's father, suddenly turned ill and died, leaving the crown for any of Chantency's children. Of all the children that could have taken the crown, why did it have to be Junker? Under Chantency's rule, every creature got a fair share of the food, and the food had been grown by paw from the many farmers of the garden. After Junker came into the picture, he demanded all the crops be harvested immediately to satiate his incredible hunger. He even ate those not ready to be picked, and then went on to devour the seeds. After this, there was nothing to grow. Whenever anyone managed to steal seeds, Junker snatched them up. Alder curled up in a corner of his nook and murmured before going to sleep, "If only things could change." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Alder! Alder, wake up!" Alder opened his eyelids to female squirrel looking him in the eye. "Hazel . . . ?" Alder groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stood up. "Ugh . . . Is it really morning already?" "Yeah. Come on, I wanted to talk to you." Hazel was Alder's sister and best friend. The two of them always worked together during heists, and took walks to discuss things and to get away from Junker's crazy commands. "What's this all about?" Alder asked, trying to shake off the last bit of sleepiness from his movements as he and Hazel ventured towards the statue of Discord. "Well, I've been doing some reading and -" Hazel was quickly cut off by her older brother's groan. Alder was less than pleased with his sister's habit of sneaking into the Canterlot Library to read books. She was quite knowledgeable thanks to her reading, but she never seemed to have any common sense. She risked getting caught everyday for pointless reading. Alder had tried to stop her, but finally gave up. He wasn't able to talk any sense into her. "May I continue?" Hazel asked after Alder had expressed his annoyance. Alder mumbled something along the lines of "fine," and she carried on. "I've been doing some reading on Equestrian myths, and there's this one about an evil tyrant that made life miserable for ponies, unicorns, and pegasi alike." "Kind of like Junker?" Alder chuckled. "Exactly," Hazel told him. His smile quickly faded when he realized his sister was being serious. This was bound to go nowhere good. "Anyways, the tyrant was none other than Discord himself!" They had arrived at the statue, and Hazel was excitedly pointing at it. "I don't get how this is important," Alder said, trying to keep from yelling at his sister. Now that he was rank nine, he had a lot of work to do. "Well, in the story, it says that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna used these things called the Elements of Harmony, and they turned Discord into a statue! According to the story, this statue here is the very same Discord that ruled over Equestria long ago, keeping it in a state much like that of the garden right now!" Hazel exclaimed. "Again, I don't get how this is important." Hazel sighed, "Don't you see, brother? If we can get the Elements of Harmony, we can get rid of Junker once and for all! Not a single soul in the garden will ever have to go hungry again! It's the perfect plan!" Alder's pessimism kicked right in. Below the timid, helpless wreck he pretended to be, he was much more stern and doubtful by nature. "I can think of a few problems with this plan," he objected. "Oh yeah? Like what?" "Well, for one, we don't know what or where the Elements of Sympathy -" "Harmony," Hazel corrected. "Whatever. We don't know what or where they are. Second, even if we were to find out, we don't know how to use these Elements of Harmony. Finally, how are we going to find out how to use them and where to find them?" "Why don't we just ask someone who knows?" Hazel suggested. "Who, the princesses? They're ponies. They can't comprehend animal speak." "I wan't talking about them. I was talking about the closest known animal to them." Alder blinked. It took him a few seconds to get who Hazel was talking about. He gasped when realization struck him, "You don't mean . . . " Hazel grew a smug smile. "Oh, but I do." "But she's so old and cranky! She'll never listen!" "It's worth a shot." "NO IT ISN'T!" Alder shrieked. "Yes it is. Now come on," Hazel said as she dragged a stubborn Alder by his tail. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *