• Published 18th Jul 2014
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Guardians of Harmony - BunkerBuster



Before the Celestial Sisters, before even the Tree of Harmony, there were the Guardians

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Honesty

The trite saying that honesty is the best policy has met with the just criticism that honesty is not policy. The real honest man is honest from conviction of what is right, not from policy.
-Robert E. Lee

Two centuries ago, the Grand Palace was erected on top of the highest hill in the capitol. From its mighty parapets, one could overlook the entire Republic and the whole of the Golden City. Far to the north, one could even make out the shine of the Crystal Empire on a clear day- or so some claimed. Below lay the Forum where the obelisk telling the story of the Republic's founding presided over politicians, merchants, and so many others. Roads led to the south, east, and west, making paths to the other cities of the Republic and the wider world. Listening carefully, one could even hear the sounds of the mighty legions marching to bring order to a chaotic world.

One this day, however, all that glitter was gone from the view the Councilor had. Instead, she saw the clouds marring the blue sky, the rumble of thunder in the distance warning of storms. The Forum was bustling with thieves and swindlers wearing anything from merchant to high-born clothes. The obelisk was worn with age, some of the story being re-carved by tired stonemasons. The roads were filled with the poor and hungry. The Golden City was the color of ash.

Belle sighed, leaning heavily on the stone parapet. The Council had called a brief recess from debate over the new reports coming in from the south and west. In the south, Griffons marched on Republican land, dragons biting at their heels in an aggressive migration. To the west, one nation had split in twain and both begged for assistance. Their civil war even flooded over the borders: three towns had already been razed by mercenaries and bandits. Everyday, the world seemed more chaotic and spiteful. A powerful part of her wished she had never ran for office.

The sky darkened as some fool galloping through the streets below bellowed doom and gloom nonsense. Belle looked upward, staring into the dark gray sky. There had been nothing in the reports about a rainstorm, but the weather pegasi were anything but informative. They still tried to hold onto some semblance of mystery about their abilities. She scoffed at that. "They lost that when that young mage started publishing," she muttered to herself. The first few droplets of rain fell, the warning of a downpour. The councilor was inside just as the tumult hit, drowning the world in the heavy pounding of ill weather.

"...and it is my firm belief that we must enact the reforms quickly. Our legions cannot stand another moment of this, this, this atrocity of training and under-performing weaponry." The councilor stood tall in the center of the hall, surrounded by his fellow members, each wearing the traditional Senatorial garb of the Crystal Empire: the toga. And each one, save a handful of the politically weaker, looked bored. He had gone on for over an hour. "Without these, we will be defeated by the griffons." He adjusted his garment, revealing more of the center purple stripe.

Belle yawned, catching the eye of Councilor Tower Shield. He shook his head. Belle shrugged, no longer listening to the speaker, a Councilor whose name she had long forgotten. Tower looked thoughtful for a moment then smiled, standing and coughing loudly. The assembly immediately looked to him.

"Furthermore, we should- yes, Councilor? Did you need something? I still have the floor," the speaker snarled.

Not a very good politician. Belle thought.

Tower looked unfazed, trotting down from his position to the floor. "Indeed, you do. But I'm afraid if we let you have it any longer, there won't be much of it left for the rest of us." There was a quiet chuckle throughout the assembly. "If I may ask, have you heard recently from the front? How fare our troops, Councilor...-"

"Forest Hearth," the councilor growled. "I have read the same reports you have."

"Oh? Then you should know that we are successfully holding back the enemy in the south. The Twentieth holds them at bay," Tower moved around the other councilor, making him follow. "Sleipnir's legion," he added.

Forest Hearth scoffed. "General Sky," he said heavily, "is a madman. He will fail just as you failed to put him in power."

Tower looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. Perhaps too quickly. "That was not my idea, but my friend Belladonna's," he sent a wink Belle's way. She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips. " And you recall that it was the General's own refusal that stopped us. In fact, I remember a certain detractor who was very outspoken against the General's nomination for Consul."

Forest stood a little straighter, grinding his teeth. "The Republic needs wise leadership, not sword-wielding thugs. I stand by my opinion." The stallion was at least a head taller than his opponent, though it helped little. It was like watching a child being scolded.

"Of course, I wouldn't want you to change it. Then it wouldn't be ironic that an anti-military councilor was advocating military expansion and reforms." Tower kept a straight face despite the murmurs running through the others. He turned to face Forest, stone-faced and well-practiced. Forest avoided eye contact, preferring to look straight ahead at the wall. "You look a bit warm, my friend. Perhaps I should take over for you."

The other councilor blinked a bead of sweat away, his composure cracking slightly at the pressure of the looks and whispers. He cleared his throat. "Yes, perhaps I could use some rest. Thank you, Councilor. The floor is yours." Forest walked off the floor in the most dignified way he could. His supporters whispered amongst themselves before quietly leaving the hall.

Tower Shield stood alone now in the center of his colleagues, casting a long look over every one before settling on Belle. There was a spark in his eyes, something only his friends could ever see was there. Something was going on in that head of his. "My friends, we have been at war with these barbarians in the south for too long while we allow our brothers in the west to die. It is time we send them the aid they deserve. I propose sending three legions, the third, seventh, and fifteenth, to aid our brethren in their bitter war."

Another murmur went through the crowd. An elderly councilor spoke up. "And which of our brothers should receive our aid, Councilor Shield?"

Tower smiled a wide grin, that spark jolting in his eyes. "Both of them," he replied calmly.

The assembly broke into uproar. Too many questions and complaints were hurled at the councilor to be understood. Through it all, his eyes were locked on Belle's. She couldn't contain her surprise at his proposition: sending three legions to try and unify the warring Alcesians and Cervidaeans was a novel idea. Something about it didn't settle well in her gut though. There was no way he could think that idea would be passed, let alone work. There was more going on.

Finally: "That would be traitorous to our allies. Since they have both requested aid, we must deny them both. Neutrality is our best option," came the response from the elder councilor, silencing the rest of the assembly.

Tower was unperturbed. "And if we do nothing, have we not betrayed them anyway?" The other councilors settled down what little mumbling they were engaging. He continued. "We must do something in the west or we may lose two allies, not one. Settle the west quickly and we can focus on the griffons in the south." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Perhaps with the power of three nations instead of one."

The crowd once more began yelling and bickering, some hurling insults at such a foolish notion while others denounced the detractors as turncoats. Amongst the noise, Councilor Tower Shield excused himself, followed closely by Belle. When they were out of the central chamber, she stopped him.

"What was that all about? You know we can't afford to divert troops westward!" she whispered harshly, looking around.

Tower merely chuckled. "I do know that, but now the rest of the council will see something they had too-long forgotten." He began trotting away, a slight skip in his step.

"What's that?" she called after him.

"That war needs warriors, not politicians."

********************************************************************************************

A cold chill hung in the air, a chill unusual for the season. "Winter might come early," Belle said to herself, her companion grunting in agreement or acknowledgement- she could never tell when he was listening. At the window, the councilor looked down at the stone-paved street, empty this night save for a handful of slaves on late-night business for their masters. At least one was carrying some love letter to a married mare or stallion. How many of our political problems could be solved by following the slaves? She sighed before heading back to the bed where her crystal companion lay dazedly. "Do you ever have these problems in the Empire?"

He grunted again, shifting position in the bed to look at her. "His Majesty keeps a tighter rein on the lords than your Republic does. These 'Patricians' are allowed to say anything they want without your leaders decapitating them." The crystal pony nuzzled Belle's neck, nipping her skin. "But you don't really want to talk about politics-"

She pushed him away regretfully. "Not right now, Garnet. I have other things on my mind."

He relented, but still remained close. "Speak as you will, my love. I'm yours as always."

"Tower proposed we send three legions to aid both the Cervidaean rebels and Alcesian imperials. He knows that will never work, not even if it passed in the Council. We would be labeled as traitors. Even the pirates would stay away from that."

"At least something good would come out of it," he joked.

"But what he said is bugging me: 'wars need warriors, not politicians.' What did he mean?"

Garnet yawned, rubbing an eye with his hoof. "Soldiers win wars. What good is a Councilor going to do in a fight?" He thrust a hoof into the air. "I know! Give your Council weapons and send them off to fight! One of them just might find a way to make peace; two birds with one stone."

"Most of the Council gone and the war ended? A noble idea, but, with my luck, Forest Hearth would be the only one left standing. Or one of his rabble."

Her companion grumbled something under his breath before sinking back into the plush bed, cuddling with the frustrated councilor.

Belle simpered in his embrace. "Mmm, I know, my pet. Politics bore you."

"Your politics bore me. Get a king, behead the fools, and live wise and powerful. It's easier in the Empire-"

"-and if you had wanted to be a politician, you would have became a diplomat like your mother instead of a merchant like your father," Belle finished for him. It wasn't the first- or last- time she had heard that same complaint. She kissed him softly on the head, just between his ears. They gave a tired flick. "I'm just being silly, I suppose. I'll figure it out in the morning."

Garnet nodded, biting at his lover's neck once again. "Quite right, there are better things to do than worry about war."

She couldn't agree more.

And yet the councilor still remained awake. Hours had passed as she just sat at the window, looking out over the sleeping city. Behind her, Garnet was asleep, shifting occasionally in one of his fitful dreams. She looked to watch him adjust and move about, muttering nonsensical phrases or words. Apparently, being a trader wasn't as easy as so many thought. There were things he had gone through that he refused to talk about, even years later. She understood, of course. There were parts of her past she never talked about either. Unconsciously, she looked to the silver shield and golden wreath hanging up on the wall above her father's dented old shield.

It had been a long time since the Outriders.

She looked a the polished silver and gold medal awarded only to those who joined the Republican elite regiment. Suddenly her eyes went wide and she gasped. "Wars need warriors, not politicians." Tower, you couldn't be thinking- On the bed, Garnet had settled, a silly grin on his face. Something about the shimmering crystal of his body made it seem like he was mocking her with that smile. Belle just shook her head, moving back to the bed to join him. "You probably had it figured out all along, didn't you?" she asked the sleeping stallion.


********************************************************************************************

Belle arrived later than planned to the emergency meeting, barely making it in time to hear the summons. An older stallion with a white mane and disheveled coat, stood at the center of the hall bellowing out the report he had just received. The dire news did not shock her, but it was unsettling.

"General Misty Sky has disobeyed the Consuls' orders to remain at his post in the south. As we speak, he marches south to face the griffon army alone," the old councilor spoke, his accent recognizable as northern, probably from one of the provinces near the Crystal Empire.

A newly elected councilor stood, drawing attention at the impetuous act. Belle smiled, all of them had been like that once. She searched for his name in her memory but couldn't think of it until he started to speak. The accent was unmistakable. "'Dis's due t'our iaction," Rough Waters chirped, his Bailtemareum accent making it difficult to understand. "'F we'd'ad mov'd sooner, we coulda pr'vented 'dis li'l rebellion. Instead, we'zat listenin' t'idiots like Fer'st Hearth!"

Most ignored him, his accent obviously getting in the way. Angrily, he stamped in hoof, making a loud crack go through the hall, silencing those who spoke. Before he said anything though, Tower Shield was beside him, whispering something. His ears flattening, he nodded and sat once more, the councilors going back to their grumbling. Tower would not be so easily ignored, however, and his shout brought all eyes to him.

"Perhaps the young Councilor is right, though he is inexperienced." He cast a glance back at the stallion in question who looked rather embarrassed. "The time for talking is quite obviously over, mares and gentlecolts. One legion has already taken our war into their own hands. How soon before the next? Should we allow this kind of thing to continue?"

"Nay, this should be dealt with quickly," one councilor said.

"Indeed, action must be taken to end this disobedience before it spreads!" another agreed.

"A consul should ride out to meet the renegade legion with an army of his own and-"

"-and what? Lose another legion just to make a statement?" Tower interrupted. Silence. He smirked. "This is a dangerous situation, my friends. We have much to lose if we make the wrong decision, which is why we need someone who can make the tough calls without Council approval: we must appoint a dictator."

Outrage was the primary response of the Council, even from regular supporters of the eccentric councilor. His plan seemed to have faltered, but Belle watched her friend carefully. He didn't look displeased nor surprised. He seemed as cool and collect as ever. Whatever his secret to staying calm, she definitely needed to learn it. Tower allowed the accusations and insults to wash over him, waiting until they had simmered down to a low grumble.

"I didn't think so. No, instead, we should make our decision now. A unanimous vote on what to do." He paused dramatically, bringing a hoof over his heart and holding his chin high. The most seasoned actor would have been proud. "We either send our legions southward to decimate the Twentieth, leave them where they are, or follow my plan to send them westward. Please, don't feel the need to wait to vote on a course of action. This does need to be handled swiftly after all." There was some shifting in the crowd. He looked over the assembly with a trained political eye. "Impossible, isn't it? We all know that. We need a leader with the power to act, not Consuls who barely have the ability to dress themselves without reporting it to us."

A red and green mare clapped her hooves, bringing all eyes to her. "I agree with the Councilor. Now is the time for action. We need more stallions of action in the political world anyway."

A large, green coated stallion stood up from the crowd. Forest Hearth. "What Councilor Shield is trying to do is put one of his puppets on the throne of kingship. We all remember he is from the southern provinces, yes? It is well-known that they push for monarchism in the south.

Belle scoffed loudly, not bothering to stand or announce herself. "And you are from the Golden City herself. Republican through and through. If you had your way, we would bicker all day about what pastries to eat for dessert."

The stallion glowered in her direction, his nostrils flaring. Tower smiled, gesturing for her to take the floor, which she gladly accepted.

Belle cleared her throat. "Councilor Tower Shield was right: we need a powerful leader to protect our people. If one legion can rebel, another can. We need a hard ruler to put our military in check and lead them to a victory they- we desperately need. Five years is too long for a war against barbarians." This brought agreeing murmurs through the crowd. "I support appointing a dictator."

Forest practically leaped down from the benches of the hall, nearly trampling on Belle's hooves. "Well I despise the idea of putting ultimate power in the hands of an individual," he roared. "We unified the tribes, creating an elected council to stop that very thing: an all-powerful ruler. How much trouble did sole rulers have before? Look at the warlike griffons! They have a single ruler. As did the Union before it ruptured into civil war! Do you two wish for us to experience that as well?" The sounds of the assembly were unsure, though many seemed to assent.

Belle would not be pushed back so easily. "The Crystal Empire has been around longer than even the tribes, if their history is to be believed. They have and had a sole ruler. Look at their power and unity. I would rather be like them who even this very Council is modeled after one of their ancient city-states." One councilor started to protest before being silenced by another. "The law allows a dictator, appointed by the Council or Consuls in a time of emergency. I would say this is an emergency, Councilor Hearth."

Forest snorted, his ears splayed backwards and chest puffed out. "There is no emergency big enough to risk creating a tyrant. Your ambition is obvious, Councilor Belle." He said her name with all the spite he could manage.

They stared at each other, deadlocked. Belle was a stubborn mare, she had had to be, but Forest was just as stubborn and had the years of living in the capitol to fall back on. Nopony was as stubborn as the ponies who lived within spitting distance of the Palace. Belle's wings flared out in anger. Her opponent stamped a hoof against the marble floor. The rest of the Council silently watched for a victor, each patient members of a congress used to these disputes.

Some were not so patient.

"That's enough!" A rumbling voice echoed in the hall, making both Belle and Forest step back. Entering the hall was a tall, powerfully-built unicorn stallion dressed in the red and gold armor of the legions and flanked by Palace Guards. Every councilor bowed in the presence of one of the Consuls. The stallion's face was a mask of neutrality, his salt-and-pepper mane concealing one useless eye. "I come back to the Grand Palace to see this? Councilors fighting over who gets to wave his stallionhood around the most? Despicable!"

"My lord Consul, you have been away at war for a long time. Many things have happened while you were away," Tower casually said, meeting him halfway across the large floor. The Consul laughed.

"Tower Shield, my friend, you are looking well." He smacked a hoof on the stallion's back, moving his toga out of place. "I take it this must have been your doing. I know Councilor Belle wouldn't start fights without some prodding." The smile he shot her was infectious.

Tower shrugged. "Things can change."

The Consul became solemn at that. "Indeed they can." He stepped away to take the center of the floor. Addressing the assembly, he spoke: "I bring news of the war that many of you, if not all, haven't heard; Consul Iron is dead, killed by a griffon raid." There were gasps all around. "He was brave, valiant to the end. Due to his sacrifice, half his legion escaped death or capture. My own stallions and I will be setting out in two days time to move against the griffon forces. With The Pale Legion distracting them, maybe we can sneak behind and defeat Stormbringer."

The Council stamped their hooves, even Forest. When the applause died down, the sole Consul saluted and turned to go. Tower stopped him.

"Consul, if you would be so kind, we should seek your advice on a matter." The Consul turned, curious. "The fighting you heard earlier was in response to my proposal; that is, the appointment of a dictator."

The Consul didn't react, or he didn't allow his feeling so show through. At his age, this was probably child's play. Instead, he strode up to the councilor and bowed respectfully. Quietly, so only the few close enough could hear, he said, "I'm too old for war, Shield." Without another acknowledgement, he left the hall, followed by the Palace Guards.

The meeting adjourned shortly afterward.

********************************************************************************************

The next night, a missive came for Belle. She was ordered by the Consul to report to his chambers to discuss important matters of state. The journey to his villa just outside the city was easy enough, the roads were always well patrolled, but it did provide for time to think about her next move. Tower was obviously trying to put her in the position of dictator. The question was why. He was risking his political future, if not his life. The elder stallion usually knew what he was doing. The risk he was taking to get her in power...

So focused on her thoughts, Belle nearly slammed face-first into the door of the villa. A heavy hoof stopped her. Looking up, she saw the face of the Consul, warm and welcoming. "Ah, young Councilor Belle. We were beginning to worry about you. Do come in."

He stepped aside for her, allowing her passage. Inside the villa was plain, unadorned. It was the villa of a penniless patrician, not a Consul of the Republic. As was normal, her face laid this bare.

"I would rather live in comfort," the Consul said in his deep baritone, "than live in lavishness. This way please." He lead her to a dining room with a table of unidentifiable wood and four cushions. Already seated- and drinking his fill- was Tower, his cheeks a light red.

"There you are! Auric was gettin' worried, but I told 'im you'd be jus' fine," he slurred slightly. The bottle in front of him wasn't even half full. The councilor motioned for Belle to join him.

"Would you like anything in particular, Councilor? I have a well-stocked wine cellar," Consul Auric asked as he got comfortable on his own cushion. Without bidding, a servant appeared behind him.

"No, I'm alright. What are these matters of state that had you call me out in the middle of the night?"

Auric laughed. "It would be remiss of me to invite a single Councilor out to my villa for a drink. The last thing we need is another scandal." He cast a glance at Tower, who was just finishing off the bottle, drops of the liquid falling from his lips onto the table. He didn't notice the look. "Besides, my friend seems to like you. Enough to try to make a bid on dictator for you." The Consul's look of amusement was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating look of a patrician.

Belle cleared her throat, looking first at the table then back at the Consul. "Indeed, though I disagree with his choice on candidates, I support the idea of a dictator to end the war."

The Consul looked her up and down, appraising. Then, "Where are you from?"

"Nova Eboracum."

"From the east? That makes sense. All they care about is the military out there," he said with a smile.

"And the northerners only care about money, the central provinces would rather argue than lead, the south wants a king, and the west are religious fanatics who want a bit of everything." She raised an eyebrow but looked unamused. "I've heard it all, my lord Consul."

"Please, call me Auric here," he said, dismissively waving a hoof at her. "I didn't mean to offend you, Councilor."

"Belle."

"Of course."

"Is that all you wanted me here for, then? To see if I'm good enough for the job?" she asked, barely keeping the edge from her voice.

Auric chuckled and shook his head. "Not at all. But it never hurts to be on the dictator's side, don't you think?" Another servant appeared, this one with a glass of water. He placed it in front of Auric before bowing and vanishing to do his other duties. Auric took a long drink. "I have heard a lot about you, Belle. Taking on a chimera alone is a feat but actually defeating it, that's a miracle. The gods must be on your side."

"I care little for the gods," she growled. She saw the look Auric was giving her, something between entertained and curious. "You're from Pegasacastrum." He nodded. "You would know more of the gods than I would."

"Perhaps."

"This is getting too serious," Tower finally added, his stupor wearing off. The elder councilor nudged the empty spirits bottle with his nose. "There isn't enough wine in your cellar to make me enjoy this kind of talk. Servant, fetch me something hot!" The servant bowed then left the room. "Now then, Auric, do I have your support? Or should I wait for the gods to strike her down for blasphemy?"

Auric snickered, throwing his hooves up in surrender. "Alright, alright, Tower. She'll have my support. I'll try to swing as many of the other councilors your way before I leave tomorrow." He turned to Belle, his face now serious. "Watch out for Forest Hearth. He has his hooves in all the wrong places. I've heard much about you, and now I've seen what they say is true. The corruption in the government is a epidemic. I'm too old and my place too temporary to do anything about it, but you might just be able to fix it." The servant re-entered with a steaming glass that filled the entire room with a pungent, buttery smell.

Belle looked at Tower, whose entire face was lit up. "I think that's about all the serious talk we'll be able to get done tonight."

"Quite right," Tower affirmed, taking a long pull of the hot beverage. "now is the time for merriment! We're still young, after all! Well, one of us is," he added, cocking his head to the pegasus.

In the morning, the three of them had difficulty remembering what happened after that.

********************************************************************************************

Contrary to the Consul's plans, he was kept another few days due to the lax management of the military complex in his absence. His time, however, wasn't wasted: the whispers among the city changed, subtly at first then more obviously, to talk about the Council's poor ability and even poorer decision-making. After his three-day wait was over, Consul Auric left with an auxiliary legion to support one of the town on the southern border. He left without fanfare, saying only a few words to the Council and a very short speech in the Forum. It was what he left that mattered; now they had to hope all that work payed off.

It wasn't long after the Consul left that Garnet departed as well. His departure was far longer and more private. In fact, there were many times he tried to leave only to be convinced back for another minute for nuzzling and soft words. Eventually though, he pulled away and started off west, his goods-laden cart following behind him, bumping all along the stone road. Belle watched him leave, trying to maintain a hopeful smile. When he finally passed out of her sight, the smile dropped. Now she was alone to deal with the politics of the Republic. In the dark night, she looked westward as if she would be able to see Garnet trotting down the road, his cart clanking and clacking with ever bump in the stones. The clouds were settled low over the city, muting the moonlight and making the alleys and streets darker than black. Only the few candlelit windows brightened the cityscape. As she drifted off to sleep, Belle noticed just how cold her bed was.

Tower Shield couldn't keep his eyes closed no matter how hard he tried. Herbal remedies, reading, counting sheep, even an expensive courtesan couldn't still him. Not for long anyway. Settling for a walk, he strolled through the dark streets toward the Forum. The thoughts of what they had worked so hard for whipped through his mind faster than he could think about them. It was a pleasant kind of insanity. The day after tomorrow, the Council would meet once again to quell a civil rebellion in the city. The plan was truly masterful and every piece was in its place. Upon reaching the Forum, he looked to the obelisk that took up its center. On it he saw the proud visages of the three founders, the warring of the tribes became celebrations, the chaos became order. The final battle before the truce- the defeat of the vile Wendigos and their army of ice against the unified pony tribes- always gave Tower inspiration that harmony would always prevail. In the times of war and treachery, this inspiration was all the more important. He looked skyward to the constellations, remembering the Crystal Empire names for every one. The only reason he knew any of them was because of some mare years ago that he wanted to impress. He chuckled quietly to himself. "Her father nearly ran me through with a pitchfork," he said.

"Time to finish the job," came the reply before the life of the councilor was spilled onto the stone of the Forum under the ever-watchful eyes of the founders.

Her legs ached, her heart beat in her ears as a drum, tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. The ponies made way for her as she sped through the streets in full gallop. Belle burst into the full council chamber as a raging minotaur, her wings spread in a grandiose display. All eyes went to her, some surprised, others afraid. In the center of the chamber holding the floor, was Forest Hearth, his look expectant and smug.

"You!" Belle growled, stalking toward her prey.

Forest made no move to retreat or answer, merely staring as she drew near.

"I'll make sure you repay a thousand lives for what you did!"

"What are you talking about?" Forest asked, sounding confused. He eyes twinkled in the light of chamber. He had been waiting for this challenge. He had known.

She was almost muzzle to muzzle with him. Hot, angry breath spread over his face from her panting. The chamber was silent for them. Graveyard silent. "Tower's blood in on your hooves. And I'll make sure he is avenged."

Forest shook his head, scoffing at the accusation. "Noble Councilor Tower Shield was killed by a common-born wastrel. The boy has already been apprehended and is ready to be sentenced. In fact, we were discussing his punishment now. I argue death, and I think you would agree."

Belle nearly bit his smug head off his shoulders. "Killed a councilor and now you want to put a foal to death. You have no honor."

He narrowed his eyes, his mouth a hard line. "Be careful of your words, Councilor. One could argue that you are the one without honor: we all have heard the rumors spread about this Council." He leaned in close so only she could hear. "You could never prove it anyway. Not after the foal is soundly dealt with." He pulled back but not in time to dodge the hard blow his opponent swung at his head. Forest fell on to the ground, stunned and with pain lancing through his face.

Belle picked a bent feather out of her wing and spat in onto the floor at the councilor's hooves. "I challenge you, Forest Hearth, to a trial by combat. I will prove your guilt by taking your life, worm."

"You have made a big mistake," he snarled.

"And you have angered Belladonna Chimera-killer. One hour. I'll wash the Arena with your blood."

A servant shuffled into the barracks where the bloody councilor attempted to remove her slippery armor. With short, shaky steps, he drew near, stopping at least ten feet from her. "Councilor," he rasped.

"What is it?" Her voice made him shiver unconsciously.

"You have a missive from the Council." He retrieved a letter from the leather bag at his side.

Belle stopped trying to get out the armor, giving her full attention to the servant. "Can you read? Well, what are you waiting for? Read it!" The letter was flowery and official. It was a long-handed way of telling her she got exactly what she- what Tower- had hoped for: the dictatorship was hers. That Forest Hearth's constant attempts to subvert the Republic had been made obvious and they unanimously wanted her leadership to bring them out of the darkness. She couldn't help the grin that covered her face nor the tears that fell to the floor, mixing with the blood of the fallen. "Servant, go to the commander stationed here in the city. Give him orders to recall the two closest legions and have them ready to march south by the end of the week. We have a war to win." The servant bowed clumsily and sped out the door to follow her demands. The new dictator sighed heavily, feeling a weight on her shoulders settle. "Damn you, Tower. How do you expect me to do this alone?"

She still thought the same thought some time later back in the capitol after leading her victorious troops home. There, back in the place she called home, she once again felt a weight of responsibility. On the march, all there was was to keep trudging forward. In battle, it was the urge to live that kept all other thoughts at bay. Now, in the safety and cushion of home, all there was left was to think about what politics she would have to deal with. Returning a victor had granted her acclaim as dictator, the ponies literally throwing themselves at her hooves, but it meant so much more was on her shoulders. The price of success could be almost as costly as the price of defeat. There in the darkness of a clear, moon-lit night, she could only contemplate what would happen next. Belle looked westward, toward the raging civil war. A courier had told her that Consul Auric had turned his army that way, hoping to stop the war before it spilled into Republican territory. Apparently, there were a few favors he could call in. She chewed the inside of her cheek in thought.

A knock interrupted those thoughts. She ignored it for a moment, but the knocking continued unabated. Finally, Belle went to the door and threw it open, ready to scream at the nuisance. Standing in the doorway, grinning widely, was a unicorn with a long white beard and starry hat whose bell jangled with every movement. Disarmed, Belle could only stare as the strange unicorn happily took control.

"There you are! Do you realize how difficult you are to get to? I almost had to use magic to get past your guards. Can you believe that? Me having to use magic to get past some know-nothing guards? Ridiculous! Oh, please do pick up your jaw, you'll get the floor wet," he said as he swept past her into the room. Belle obeyed without thinking, following the intruder. "What a nice place you have. I love the little baubles you have. Crystal Empire, I bet, eh." He gave her a knowing wink before continuing on his rant. "And the Outrider crest hung up on your wall, very lovely. It's important to be connected to your past. Those who ignore the past forget to predict the future... or something like that. I was never very good at history. Ooh, what a view!"

"Who are you?" Belle finally managed to sputter.

The unicorn stopped and turned back to face her, a genial smile across his lips. "I'm Starswirl. And you, Belladonna, are in for something amazing."

There was a feeling in the air presently. It was magical, powerful- too powerful. Belle wanted to run from the Starswirl, run away and hide, but something in his stance, that smile, held her at bay. He was the most powerful unicorn she had ever met, perhaps in the whole world, but he was on her side. "Come with me, Belle. I must show you something."

"What?" she replied, both amazed and afraid.

Starswirl chuckled. "I think you might be the only one to ask me that." He stepped close to her, still smiling. "I'm going to show you your destiny, Belle."

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