Sadly I’m not in a position to disclose what has happened during those days that we spent rafting the ocean on our trusty monotremic steed. But I think I can tell you this much, without Luna making good on her death threats: We discovered the lost continent of Ma, where we prevented a war by inventing Ska.
But this is neither here, nor there, and our story continues as we finally reached the harbor of Celestantinopel, or Istallionbul as I would come to know it in the days to follow.
Repulsion and joy battled inside me as the silhouette of the sandstone city came into view. On the one hand Celestanstinopel was a reminder of Celestia’s and Luna’s unending Crusade against me, and the stench of stagnation, which permeates anything Celestia touches, was particularly strong here; on the other hand it was just this stagnation which made Istalionbul into a rare familiar sight for the likes of me, who had seen the world around them turn to dust more than once.
In the end I delayed sorting out my feelings for later, and settled for taking in the view. The city’s beige sandstone buildings dominated the landscape all around the seven hills on which the city was founded, their simple cubic forms making it seem like that one time I dropped giant building blocks onto a plane. Where in Canterlot spindling minarets dominated the cityscape, Celestanstinopel had opted for simple geometric forms and cupolas which decorated the largest structures. Most notable of course, was the bifurcated nature of the city. A river was now flowing through the breach, that my attempt at taking back the city had left, dividing the bigger eastwards city from the higher lying but smaller westwards city.
All on it’s own Enti, as I had dubbed the Platypus, took course for the newly created river, long before we could make out the harbor which lay nestled in a small bay on the east side of the city.
One would expect that our giant duck billed companion would have created quite a stir as he came to a rest near the pier, but much to my own and Luna’s surprise nobody seemed so much as give us a second glance… or to be more precise, there was nobody there to give us a second glance, except for a cat who had fled from the midday heat to the harbor, which at least got a nice stiff breeze from the sea every now and again.
“What are you complaining about? We don’t want to attract too much attention anyway,” my selenic companion tried to argue, but one such as me, who has caused all sorts of chaos throughout the ages, does recognize the proverbial “calm before the storm”, and I told Luna as much.
“It’s quiet… too quiet. I don’t know how much this place has changed, but back in the days this place used to be full of people, all trying to shout louder than their neighbours. Can you hear anything?” I asked her warily watching my surroundings.
Luna raised her ears alertly. Apparently me staying serious for once was enough to get her attention.
“Can you hear that?” I heard my own rhetorical, echoed back at me.
“That’s just what I mean, it’s too quiet,” I repeated annoyedly.
“No, I think I can hear music.”
Now it was me who held his ears into the wind, and indeed, faintly I could make out the sound of fanfares being blown in the distance.
“Hmmm, what do you think this is all about?” I asked as I turned to Luna, only to find that the place she had occupied moments before was now conspicuously empty. Hastily I ran after the last blur of dark blue tail and the clip clop of hoof that reverberated from one of the empty alleyways.
Not for the last time I cursed my current choice of avatar which, while exceptionally stylish, isn’t really suited for running, especially if you are chasing a four legged creature whichs entire body has been pretty much optimized for gallops over long distances. Only out of the corner of my eyes I could make out the facades of the houses along the way, which ponies and other creatures had tried to decorate in a desperate attempt to grant the dull sandstone buildings some individuality. A carpet here, some flowers there, a woven mat to cover a particular drafty door. As my feet ran across the cobblestone street, which had been worn down by centuries of use, I picked up all those little things which talked of the ponies living here, which were usually drowned out by the roar of the cities bustle.
Before I could process any of these new informations I was halted in my way very abruptly by the royal derriere.
Luna was staring straight ahead where we could see the backside of a large crowd, clogging up the streets, and now that my own wheezing wasn’t blocking my ears anymore I could make out the sound of music and the cheers of ponies. Luna shot me a questioning look, but all I could do was shrug my shoulders.
Carefully we approached the back ranks of the masses trying to get a look at what was worth all this attention (and it had better be good, after all people were ignoring ME for it), but even from my higher vantage point I could only make out an empty street and the backs of heads. Not that these didn’t already prove interesting enough.
Whereas in Equestria ponies were the dominant species by a wide margin, here we could see all kinds of creatures: The bulk of the crowd was made up from the long legged ponies of the saddle arabian city folks, who while taller than Equestrians still were slightly shorter than Celestia and even Luna. But there were also gryphons, dominantly coloured black or grey, but also a few of the long beaked mer-gryphons with their pristine white feathers. The broad backed and flat footed camels were easy to spot, since their reputation for being bad tempered left them with plenty of room to breathe. Only Minotaurs were missing; apparently even in the thousand years of my absence those two nations hadn’t manage to look past their differences (which had absolutely nothing to do with me, I dare you to prove otherwise). And of course the tall standing nomads of the desert, with their long billowing mantels and concealing headgear weren’t missing either. Though it should be noted that the clothes they wore were less white, as so many half witted authors will try to assure you, but more a dusty albeit bright grey or a stained sandy tone; cloth doesn’t stay white for too long when exposed to the rigors of a nomadic lifestyle.
Yet another fanfare ripped me out of my observations and directed my gaze down the street where we now could make out a few figures marching along the road. I could have smacked myself; of course, whatever could make the races of Equus flog together like sheep? A Parade! We had entered the city right as some sort of festivity started.
Luna had come to the same conclusion as I and turned to a saddle arabian pony, who had shielded himself against the sunlight with a colorful robe.
“Excuse me, could you tell me what the commotion is about?” she asked in a somewhat stuttering saddle arabic.
The ponies furrowed brows and questioning eyes made it all too clear that Luna’s saddle Arabian was probably as outdated as her Equestrian, but nonetheless he answered, “The son of Sultan Samum has returned, and his eminence is holding a parade in his honour.”
Which was apparently all he was willing to tell us, since he barely took the time to answer before turning back towards the street, where now the first few extensions of the parade could be made out.
A short whistle escaped my lips as I watched the banner bearers walking by. The sultan had really spared no costs for his son: First came an entourage of sixteen banner bearers walking in ranks of two, carrying flagpoles which easily reached past the buildings around us; I could only imagine how much the gold brimmed flags, showing an ornamental pattern, weighted.
Quickly followed spectacle on spectacle, dancing bears, armoured elephant mercenaries, juggling goats, and even a fire swallowing dragon (admittedly the dragon himself was more impressive than the fact that he was gorging himself during the parade). Of course I only had a tired yawn left for this pompous display of bad taste, after all I had summoned more impressive things even during my laziest times, but Luna seemed to be entirely taken in.
Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, I turned back to see what came next, only to notice that like a wave, the crowd to our left bowed it’s front legs, and grudgingly I followed their example, after all I didn’t want to draw any attention to us.
A enormous palanquin, carried by 20 gold armored stallions, came into view, sitting atop of it the prince of Celestanstinopel. He was an impressive little bugger, somewhere in his early twenties, athletically built, and barbers would have killed to get their hands on his waving black hair and his shining auburn coat. I had once thought about using a illusion of somebody similar to fool the element bearer of generosity, with her head full of stupid romance novels.
“Come on Luna, I think it’s time we split,” I said as I turned to the princess of the night.
A small swarm of hearts was hovering around her head, and a rose coloured aura tinted everything around her. Her eyes (which were twinkling like stars…) were fixed on the figure of the prince.
A loud smack echoed over the crowd as my paw smacked against my face...