Human Diplomacy

by McKnyte

The First: Of Things Best Left Forgotten

Previous Chapter

Celestia let the scroll she had just finished reading float to the floor. Her face had gone blank and her mouth fell slightly open. She sat in her room for what seemed liked hours, but was really just a few minutes. Suddenly, her horn flared with a brilliant glow as the letter was instantly consumed in a brutal burst of sun-fire. Staring at the new pile of ashes, she sent a second tongue of flame loose for good measure. This was a bad morning.

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Luna sat upon her moonstone throne, watching as her beloved moon slowly sank below the horizon, ceding it's spot in the sky to the quickly rising sun. A little too quickly. Luna threw a quizzical glance at the flaming orb as it jerked into view, plunging the room into a sudden flash of morning light. Now was not a good time to be here. She silently motioned to her dazed honor guard and quickly sneaked to the door leading to her private quarters. Best to be gone befo-

"LUNA!"

Well, so much for that. "What seems to be the trouble, dearest sister?"

"This!" Celestia's horn flared and a pile of twice burnt ashes materialized before her bewildered sister.

"Did you sneeze and incinerate your end table, yet again?" Luna knew she shouldn't agitate her sister while she was so inflamed, but she couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Ugh, here!" With yet another golden burst, Celestia restored the pile of ashes to it's former form.

"A letter? Did the baker write to say we ran out of ca-" Luna's second jibe fell short as she read the offending scroll, realization spreading across her face. "Well then. There's that."

"That's all you have to say? He refused me in the time of our country's need, and THAT'S all you have to say?!" Celestia was livid. Now was definitely not the time to be in the throne room. Or the main wing. Or the palace. It might be best to flee Canterlot altogether and spend some time with the newly christened Twilight.

"Remember sister, he refused me also. For the right reasons I may add, or this wouldn't be 'our' country still."

"Had he helped me, we may have stopped you, and I wouldn't have had to exile you for a thousand years! And what's he do!? He refuses my sincerest request, watches as you were sealed in the moon, and runs away to his little island to play with his Wyverns and pretend to be a King for a thousand years! And now that he had lost his little toy, he needs my help to find the thrice damned thing! A pox on him! A pox on him and the bird he rode in on!"

"Or he may have slain me where I stood. You know what Penndragon does to things that try to kill him."

"Luna, just leave me be and let me reclaim myself!"

"But it was you that stormed in here yelling for me."

"That's beside the point."

Luna shifted towards the door leading to her room. She had things to do and an excursion to plan. However, she had one final thing to remind her sister of, "As you wish, but you would do well to remember that Court starts in half an hour. I pity the poor pony who must seek your counsel in such a state. All Celestia had for an answer was a sidelong glare. With that, Luna hurriedly exited the room, a final glare of light peeping through the closing door as the letter suffered a third incineration.

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Far to the west, a small airship sped fast across the sky. It was unusual in its construction for it was formed from a solid piece of tempered steel with gold detailing and ornaments, and was borne aloft by a lone wyvern instead of an air-balloon. A tall figure stood at the prow of the ship as it came within sight of land to the east, the moon sinking into the western sky. He stood at an even seven feet, clad in reflective gold and ivory armor, and donning a cloak that seemed to move of its own accord. His face appeared to be youthful, although his eyes and snow white hair betrayed his great age. His hair fell to his shoulders in a wild mane, and he kept a neatly-trimmed beard upon his jaw. His eyes shone like lightning, almost radiating a brilliant blue hue. Upon his back was a scabbard holding a great claymore, nearly hidden beneath the cloak. He stood as a king, but inwardly trembled like a child at the thought of the looming meeting. He stirred slightly as a crewman approached him from behind.

"Yes? What is it?" His voice was smooth as glass yet held a tone deeper than the night sky.

"Milord, we shall make landfall within the afternoon. What kind of reception shall we prepare for?"

The side of the Kind's mouth twitched up into a half-smirk, "That remains to be seen, but if Celestia is still the same girl I remember, then we'll know sho-" The King bit the end off his sentence as the Sun charged upwards over the horizon with a sudden burst of speed.

"Well, if that was any indication, it'll be a warm welcome, to say the least."