The Senate Square Declaration
Starlight had arrived before the dawn, a mighty host arrayed in grey and black following her. One of Sassy's contacts in the capitol let her know, and she told Rarity in turn, dragging her out of sleep and into a waking nightmare. As quickly as she could, she made ready to leave, forgoing much of her makeup and taking a simple protein bar with her to eat along the way in lieu of breakfast. She picked out her outfit quickly, for once letting function overmatch form due to the need for haste, the only jewelry she wore her geode. Starlight had said that the Unmarked would be peaceful, yes, but she said a lot of things, most of which Rarity doubted highly.
Bare minutes after she woke up she was on the road, the rising Sun finding her already out of the city limits. Her phone was buzzing like a bee with word from the others, though she never took her eyes off the road, or the spires of the capitol as it began to rise before her.
Castellot, small though it may have been, was a wonder of the kingdom; the few buildings that surrounded the Palace and the other halls of power were all works of art, marble and slate rising gently from the ground like clouds on the wind. It was a city of spires, rising up where its kinsfolk spread out, reaching up to the stars even as Lake Canter plumbed the depths. She grit her teeth; she would not allow Starlight or her minions to knock those spires down without a fight.
Speaking of fights, though, she was forced to slow down by a crude barricade, attended by two Royal Guards. They watched her approach, and one of them walked over as she came to a stop. The Guard gave a gesture to roll down her window, a command Rarity obeyed with some hesitancy; not all of Starlight's supporters openly wore the grey and black Unmarked uniform.
"Morning, ma'am," the Guard said. "Would you mind stepping out of the vehicle? The captain gave orders for no vehicles to be admitted to the city, in order to minimize the chance of injuries occurring at the demonstration."
Rarity nodded, understanding Shining's reasoning (try to minimize injuries by minimizing available weapons), and unbuckled her safety belt before stepping out of the auto. The Guard nodded at her, then asked, "Do you have any weapons to declare?"
She smiled and shook her head; her magic was a tool and defensive implement, not a weapon, a point Twilight had argued with Sunset about exhaustively. Legally speaking, her geode was nothing more than a senior's cane, and who would deprive an old lady of her stick simply because it might be used in self-defense?
The Guard nodded back, then scrawled out a quick receipt and handed it to her. "Take this to the station when you're ready to leave," he instructed. "They'll give you your auto back in the same shape as they got it. If you would give us the keys?"
Rarity deposited them in the Guard's outstretched hand, took everything she needed out of the vehicle, then walked into the city while they called for someone to come pick the auto up. She glanced at the receipt, confirming that it was in proper order, then stowed it in her purse. She took a deep breath and released it; there would be no turning back, now, at least not without considerable difficulty. The road from Castellot back to Crystal City wasn't an unthinkable walk, but she wouldn't be able to outrun the Unmarked should they turn violent, and with her auto currently in the Guard's care regaining it would take too much time, between processing her receipt, confirming her registration, and actually taking her to it. No, the only way home lay ahead of her, though the Unmarked.
She hoped that that road would be peaceful, that they would remain orderly whether the government accepted or denied their petitions, that passing through them would be as simple as passing through a cloud of steam at the spa. But that hope weakened as she saw the reinforced Guard presence on the empty streets; it appeared that dear Shining Armor didn't trust Starlight's reassurances that the Unmarked's demonstrations would be peaceful, either.
"Please be safe, Rarity," whispered in her mind, Sweetie Belle's parting words as her parents had come to pick her up. "I love you too much to lose you."
"You shan't lose me, sweetness," she promised her sister, ignoring the many physical kilometers between them. "And even if you do," she set her jaw. "I'll make sure that you lose several enemies in the process."
She found the Unmarked in Senate Square, the plaza just outside the eponymous civic center. There were hundreds of them, a muttering horde of dark-clothed figures fenced in on three sides by Royal Guards. A thin gold line those Guards were, very thin indeed, a wall of glass-like protective shields held up by ranks of Guards no more than one deep. She frowned; a determined charge might be able to break through that wall, rendering the rest of the line useless. Shining's forces were stretched thin, it appeared. She dearly hoped not thin enough to snap.
Where was the Captain in all this? She didn't see his purple armor anywhere in the line, or the crowds on either side of it. She looked up at the top of the Senate steps, the grand staircase rising up to the chamber's doors, but didn't see him among the door guards. Walking down it, eventually her gaze found him, two of his subordinates beside him, arms crossed and face unreadable as he looked down at the crude platform the Unmarked had raised at the stair's feet.
Her gaze narrowed; Starlight and some of her cronies stood there, chatting happily amongst each other. Unequals among would-be equals they stood atop their shoddy wooden dais, a large sack of black cloth lying in the center.
Fools, she curled her lip as she looked at the Unmarked. You prattle on about overthrowing tyranny, not realizing that your leader intends to make the thrones of those you overthrow her own. She is as committed to equality as Rainbow Dash is to fashion, and you would see as much if you but thought to look. She cast a baleful glance at the woman who had misled so many. Talking amongst those who Rarity took for her chief advisors, she resembled a queen holding court more than a revolutionary trying to lift up the downtrodden. Her behavior, her location, her role, even her clothes, more ornamented than those of those she called her equals, belied the nonsense she spewed. Following her was an action only explicable by having one's ears covered and eyes closed; anyone else would realize how hypocritical she was in a heartbeat. Before, Rarity had merely disliked her policies; now, she loathed the woman herself.
More people trickled into the square, Sassy and the others among them. She smiled at them as they drew up alongside her, then turned back to Starlight with determination in her gaze; whenever she tried to sway them with her hypocritical folly, they would be ready to reply.
That 'whenever' took a long time to come. Several times, one of Starlight's advisors whispered in her ear, clearly asking if she was ready to speak, and every time she shook her head. At first, this had confused Rarity, but then she'd realized; before she made her reply, Starlight would look out at the crowds, counting them. She was trying to draw an audience, turn her petitioning into a spectacle. Worst of all, that was clever; the bigger the crowd, the greater the chance that some poor fool would hear her and give her proposals serious thought. And if the larger crowd opposed her, she could simply explain it away as the 'elite' forcing those under them to do their bidding. A larger audience only helped Starlight, whatever outcome she received; win or lose, she would come out ahead. Rarity frowned; evidently, Starlight was only incompetent when it came to policy, not the political game itself.
Eventually, she decided her audience was large enough and walked to the edge of the platform, to the thunderous cheers of the Unmarked. Shining's gaze followed her like a hawk, while the crowd outside the line of Guards stayed silent, aside from a few scattered boos. Starlight raised her hands for silence, and a hush fell over the whole square, even among her opponents; there was a command in her gesture, one that was impossible to deny.
The silence stayed for several moments, before being broken by Starlight. "When I was a girl," she said, her voice ringing across the plaza. "my dad taught me a funny word; icosahedron." Some laughter that was so forced it seemed to come out of a can rose out of the Unmarked. "It means a shape with twenty sides. He showed me one, too, a little die with twenty faces. All of them looked different, but they were all part of the same thing. One shape, many faces. Hierarchicalism is the same; concentration of economic power looks different from concentration of social power, and both look different from concentration of political power, but that's only on the surface. Once you look beneath the surface, you see the truth; concentration of economic power comes from a desire to control others' money, concentration of social power comes from a desire to control others' friendships, concentration of political power comes from a desire to control others' relationships with the community. And what's the source for these desires? The thought that we're better than those others in some way. Or, to put it another way, the thought that we should be above them in the hierarchy. Concentration of economic power, of social power, of political power, they're all connected, all different sides of the same shape, the cursed diamond of hierarchicalism. One shape, many faces; many symptoms, one poison.
"That's why the revolution must be total, must touch everywhere and everything; everywhere and everything is infected, poisoned by the same evil of hierarchicalism. From Cloudsdale in the west to Manehattan in the east, all of Homestria groans under the yoke of hierarchy. All, save us. We are the Unmarked, the free, the heralds of a new age. We've come here today, flying our markless banner and bearing a message, a ray of hope for those in darkness; 'All the darkness is the same,' we call out, 'and equalism is the light which will banish it away.'"
The Unmarked roared lustily at that, before falling silent as Starlight raised her hands again, face grim. "But there is one face of this cursed diamond that's worse than the others," she continued. "one shadow darker than the rest, and it is that shadow specifically which we came to shine a light on. It is the epitome of hierarchicalism, the purest expression of 'I think I'm better than you, so I'll decide what you do' that I can find. Control of money, friendships, community, all of these are bad, but attempting to control the minds and bodies of others is beyond them. But, you may wonder, what could possibly allow someone to control the mind and body of another? The answer is one word; magic."
Canned hissed rose from the Unmarked as Starlight continued, "The scourge of magic is the peak of hierarchicalism, the ultimate end of its philosophy of control. Magic attempts to enforce the user's will on those around them directly, not indirectly like with economic concentration. Magic is hierarchicalism without mask or disguise, commanding others with the only justification being, 'Because I'm stronger than you.' People claim there are hundreds of different kinds of it, from blood magic to runes to magic songs, but those are all just different sides of the same shape, the shape of tyranny. Some might say otherwise, say that magic's just a tool or a gift, and they're right; if you're willing to ignore whether something's right or wrong, magic is a useful tool, a gift to those who love forcing others to do what they say. Magic is no gift, it's a poison, a weapon, the ultimate expression of the hierarchy. Magic is tyranny, pure and simple. Of course," she shrugged. "words like these require evidence. Evidence," she pointed at the sack. "which we will now provide."
Two of her minions untied the sack and pulled it down, revealing its contents.
Contents which caused Rarity to gasp.
There was a woman inside of it, a woman who collapsed to the ground as her support was removed. She was forced to her feet again by the two who'd taken her out, each of them grabbing one arm and hoisting her up before carrying her to the edge of the platform, beside Starlight. She looked horrible, stick-thin and pallid-skinned, her limbs withered branches that looked like they would snap in a strong breeze. Her nose and lips were broken, her fingernails claws, her cheeks sunken cliffs; beneath her sackcloth uniform, Rarity didn't doubt that she would see glaring ribs. A frizz of stubble was all that remained of her hair. But her eyes were unbroken, cruel gleaming carnelians sunken into her skull that danced around like embers in a fire. The light of intelligence still glinted in those eyes, an intelligence she had faced before.
"The courtesy of Homestria's hall," Adagio Dazzle sneered. "has somewhat lessened of late."
"Silence," one of her captors ordered.
"Adagio Dazzle is the hierarchical ideal," Starlight said as her captive fell quiet. "She attempted to enslave us using the most hierarchical of methods, magic, attempting to force her choices on us because she thought she was better than us. She failed, yes, but she still tried, and she didn't fail due to any effort on the government's part. When she struck Canterlot High, where was the Royal Guard? What was the government's response to this would-be warlord? Nothing. And what was the government's response when disaster struck that same place again, during the Friendship Games? Nothing. What did the government do when we cried out for protection from those who used magic? Nothing.
"This is why we came here today, what we are petitioning for. We are not asking for revolution or political power, we are asking for protection, protection from those who seek to oppress us, whether by mundane means or magical ones. The government has failed to protect us from magic in the past; we cannot allow it to do so in future. Hierarchicalism is an evil with many forms, a root with many vines that choke us no matter where we turn. It will be the effort of a lifetime to prune all those vines, cure all the symptoms of the poison, but this vine cannot wait. We must destroy magic, before it destroys us."
The Unmarked cheered and roared lustily at that, while Rarity stared wide-eyed at Adagio. She didn't like the Siren, to say the least, but the state she was in was simply pitiful. She was filthy, tattered, she didn't look fit enough to walk. Just what had Starlight done to her?
Was this a preview of what she could expect to have to endure, should Starlight come to power?
"Should we destroy magic before it destroys us?" the Siren asked, her shaky voice somehow overpowering the roar of the crowd. "Or before it can oppose you?"
"Quiet," came the order again.
But it went unheeded this time, Adagio continuing, "Have you told them about your studies in magic, Starlight? I have a feeling they'd find that interesting. Or what about that suit of deepstone amor you bought? That ought to raise a few eyebrows."
"Ignorance is no defense against an enemy," Starlight replied, her face stern as stone. "I study the arts of the enemy so that I can better counter them. Be quiet; just because I have to read what my enemies have written doesn't mean I need to hear their voices."
"And here we come to the heart of the matter," Adagio darkly chuckled. "The idea that, if you fight monsters, you're free to be a monster." She turned to the crowd of Unmarked. "What pity or mercy does a monster deserve, after all? Why should you grant them what they are not themselves willing to give? What do the hateful deserve but hate, what do the violent deserve but violence, what do the destructive deserve but destruction? What do I, who attempted to put you all in chains, deserve but chains of my own? An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, the law of nature. Fair, and just. But if you're going to give chains for chains, then be honest about it, and if you say that you'll grant mercy stand behind your word. All of you, all Homestria, prattle endlessly about mercy and kindness, turning the other cheek and being compassionate to your foes. But when I come along to test your words, you prove as false as her," she jerked her head at Starlight. "and I find mercy as sweet as lemons. You all keep going on and on about how all are equal, then turn right around and claim that you're morally superior to me, despite having acted not so differently. You chain the one you call slaver, torture the one you call injurer, act monstrous towards the one you call monster, and still you dare to call yourselves better than me. Chain me, torture me, act monstrous towards me if you wish, but at least have the courtesy, the courage, to do so openly, to acknowledge what you're doing. I will call it justice, but I will not call it 'mercy' or 'compassion.' You call yourselves 'merciful' and 'kind;' I call you hypocrites and liars."
All eyes were on the Siren as the square fell silent.
All eyes were still on her as that silence was broken by her death-rattle.
"Protect Starlight!" one of the people holding Adagio up barked as he dropped his gurgling charge.
As he and the others bundled Starlight off the platform, Rarity stared in horror at the twitching corpse. Something had buried itself in the Siren's throat, flying through the air too fast to see. One moment Adagio had been glaring out at the crowd, the next she'd been gasping with a round stone lodged in her neck, the stone evidently sharp judging by the blood seeping from the wound.
She felt her breakfast (little though it was) coming back up her throat, but pressed it back down as she grit her teeth; she couldn't lose her head now, lives were at stake. "Sassy," she ordered her wide-eyed friend. "take the others to the station and help them get their autos back. I'll stay here to try and help coordinate the evacuation."
"We're not abandoning you," Sassy protested. "Besides, one person won't be able to direct a crowd like this. You need us, Rarity, unless the idea of being stampeded endears itself to you."
She tsked, but accepted. Before she could begin trying to calm the skittering crowds, though, one of the Unmarked jumped to his feet and laughed. The sound boomed across the square, grating over the stones.
"Look!" he laughed, pointing accusingly at the dead Siren on the abandoned platform. "Not only can the elite not protect us, they can't protect their own! Their champion was killed in the center of their power; how can we trust them to protect us on the periphery? Enough is enough! Unprotectors out!"
"He's right," another Unmarked mumbled. "She was the elite's elite and they still let her die."
"Or killed her themselves," another growled. "She wasn't useful to them anymore, after all, and what does a hierarchist hate more than something they can't use?"
Rarity bit her lip; there was a tension in the air, like the calm before a storm. Turning to the person on her left, she tapped them on the shoulder and whispered, "I think now would be a wise time to withdraw."
"Does it matter?" the laughing boy asked. "Either through action or inaction, the elite killed her, one of their own; why does it matter how they did it? Unprotectors out!"
"Yeah," the mumbler nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Unprotectors out!"
"Unprotectors out!" the growler roared.
The chant went through the Unmarked like a wave. First three, then ten, then a hundred, then every Unmarked voice crying, "Unprotectors out! Unprotectors out! Unprotectors out!" They began pressing out, quickly butting up against Shining's golden line.
On the other side, Rarity and the others had done what they could to pull the crowd back, rousing the spectators from the spell the demonstration had woven over them and sending them away. Few had left of their own volition, waiting and watching almost in anticipation, held in sway by the anger in the square like auto accident witnesses were by the carnage of what they saw. Evidently, Rarity wryly thought as she sent another Man running to the station, the self-preservative instinct was suppressed by the expectation that others would soon fail their's.
"Unprotectors out!" the Unmarked roared as they pushed against the Guards' barricade. "Unprotectors out! Unprotectors out! Unprotectors-"
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This seems like a false-flag operation by Starlight.
We about to fight? Because, rarity has never done this.
You know, I wish they would have told that to the trio of drama queens.
Fight Back.
Damn, this girl is ready for any outcome.
Ok, that’s actually pretty hilarious.
Well, at least I’m not the only one that thought it.
Wait, they’re gonna ask questions or something?
What is she talking about?
I just realized, where is starlight even from?
Ok, this concept has been used multiple and she right to a certain extent, but it’s not that simple.
God damn. Kill it with fire.
Where were you at?
Oh snap.
Expose her a**.
Someone getting defensive?
Talk your sh*t, adagio. She is on her a**.
Y’all couldn’t protect her, either.
Withdraw what?
How would they know that? What proof do they have?
Did something happen?
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A what?
10865477
Something does seem off about it, yes.
10865484
They did...sadly, while they were distracted (AJ and Platinum by fighting about a game, Flutters by trying to break up that fight).
arkhamdb.com/bundles/cards/03272.jpg
Whether protecting Sweetie Belle requires her life or her death, she shall provide it.
Nope. She just means that, if Starlight does press ahead with her petitioning, she and her friends will be ready to tell the government why they should refuse her.
She's saying that all the evils that afflict Homestria are really just variants of the root evil of hierarchicalism, despite possibly appearing different. Economic, social, and political oppression are all different sides, but of the same shape, different expressions of the same evil.
An excellent question.
Exactly. Magic isn't just a force for good or evil; it is what its wielder makes of it.
Hasn't the poor woman suffered enough?
She was in Our Town, but thanks to the internet it was as if she was there at those events.
Oh, yes.
Certainly seems that way. Shame that she turned away from her expose to deliver that ending speech.
Yes. A fine speech it was, if a bit of a missed opportunity. While the speech was important, who knows how important the other secrets of Starlight she could've exposed would have been?
Good point. That's not what they want to focus on, though; it makes them look worse, while focusing on the failures of the elite makes them look better.
Withdraw oneself away from what seems to be devolving into an angry mob.
It makes a good story, one that they already want to hear, and it furthers their goals. Why would they care about proof or reason given that?
Find out next chapter.
I think the part about this that most bothers me is that a twenty-sided polyhedron is an icosahedron. Dodecahedrons are twelve-sided. Knowing Starlight, that was intentional.
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Nope, totally accidental on the author's part!