New Equestria: Crisis in Canterlot

by Bloomberg-Boogaloo

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Comedy, Adventure
Length: 743

A hidden enemy makes his appearance known once again after over three thousand years after the fierce Invasion of Equestria by the Griffins and Dragons from the eastern continent.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-29 02:18:40 UTC

Prologue: The Thousandth Year

It was a silent and peaceful night in Equestria. The bright moon shined over Ponyville, and there were few sounds to be heard in all the country. All except for the capital itself, Canterlot, which stood at the very center and heart of Equestria. Canterlot, known for it's high social standards and formal events, many of which featuring the princess, Celestia, in person, made it the hot spot for upper-class formal parties and gatherings, like the Grand Galloping Gala. It was nearing one of the more festive celebrations in Equestria, the Summer Sun Celebration. Ponies from Canterlot to Cloudsdale flock to the hosting town to see the princess and watch her raise the sun each year. Any celebration marked a small period of excitement in the ponies of Equestria, a notable example being Canterlot, as extravagant parties increase in the days leading to said celebration, and this night was no exception.

The interior of the building was lavish and bright, and decorations lined the walls and covered the ceiling of the ball room. Ponies in fine suits and beautiful dresses mingled with cocktail glasses in hoof or within the magical auras emanating from their horns. Other mares and stallions waltzed across the floor to the calming music provided by a small orchestra. The Violinists slowly and smoothly moved their bows across the strings of their instruments in consolidation with the trombonists and flute players, and produced elegant music that complimented the atmosphere of the finely lit room. There was not a single frown to be seen in the groups of ponies. There was however, one shady figure among them. This middle aged looking unicorn wore a dark brown cloak, with his eyes hidden by the garment's hood. His fur and horn was a dark greenish-yellow color, his cutie mark was obscured by the back of his cloak, and his mane, what was visible of it, was pitch black. His tail was long and well kept, though unimaginative, as it was simply hanging there and laying on the floor. Different from the swirls and colors of the manes of other ponies.

His less than high-class appearance was an eye catcher to some ponies, who wondered if he really belonged here. Upon being questioned by other ponies, he simply showed them his letter of invitation. It was a scroll of fine paper, neat writing, and decorated borders along the sides of the parchment. The paragraph written detailed the invitation itself and reasons behind it. The name below the paragraph read: Alatum of Gryphendel, a rich noble from the Griffin Empire, which lied on the continent east of Equestria. Upon seeing this, most of the ponies decided to return to their previous activities, as the invitation looked exactly like a proper formal griffin letter. Along with having their own style of writing distinct from the ponies of Equestria, but official Griffin letters also came with markings to indicate authenticity, such as claw marks or beak punctures, which could be seen on multiple points of his invitation. The ponies wondered why a high-class griffin from a foreign land would invite such an unimpressive looking pony. Some began to think he must be more important than he looked, so they all shrugged it off.

After successfully convincing people of his authenticity, the hooded pony began to slowly shuffle through the crowds and seated himself at a small table. The table itself was round, with an red embroidered table cloth with beautiful designs and a depiction of the sun. At the center of the table was a cylindrical glass vase, and sticking out were flowers with bright violet stems, one of the many tiny details to liven up the room. The pony waited for sometime, occasionally moving his eyes through the crowds before looking back at the table, until his eyes focused on one guest in particular. It was a mid-sized Griffin, with golden eyes, grey feathers, and streaks of brown running along his wings. He had a mild scar running across from his throat to his chest.  Despite this, he still held up to the standards of a high class guest, his feathers shined as if he bathed every hour on the hour, and his outfit was aligned with bright decorations and necklaces. Noticing the Pony, he immediately realized who it was, since he was meant to look for the pony that stuck out the most, and he matched such a vague description perfectly.