//------------------------------//
// The Voice 
// Story: The Voice of the Sun 
// by Lev the Lurker 
//------------------------------//

	“Ah, Dames, just in time,” said Ambassador Quizzing as Raindrops and Lyra stepped into the dressing room. It was a small, nearly cramped place, filled with long racks of suits, dresses and other outfits arranged seemingly at random. A well-groomed yet frazzled-looking mare emerged from one such wall of clothes as though stepping out of a cornfield, two large stacks of cloth and accessories balanced on her back. 
“Here,” she said, unceremoniously bucking the bundles towards the two dames. “I have your outfits for tonight all ready to go. Throw them on quick so I can start make-up.”
“I hope that won’t take too long,” frowned Quizzing. “The feast is in an hour, and it would be terribly rude of us to be late at their first appearance.”
“Meh, then they should be good without the make-up,” said the mare with a shrug. “Not like griffons know anything about pony beauty anyways…”
“Wait, what feast?” asked Lyra curiously.
“The leaders of the local clan are holding a large social gathering at just past noon today, a rather extravagant luncheon so to speak, and I felt that it would be the best venue for you both to make your grand entrance onto the local political scene,” explained Quizzing. “And for that I need you both to look the part.”
“And you want me to wear this?” asked Raindrops as she picked what looked like a white bed sheet. “You can’t be serious.” 
“Of course not,” said the stylist. “That’s for Dame Heartstrings. Yours is the brown one.” Lyra snatched the white sheet from her friend’s hoof with a grin as Raindrops grimaced at the other outfit.
“But this one is even worse!” she protested, and the stylist shot her a hot glare.	
“Look, Miss Dame, I’ve had to deal with more snooty nobles than you can count, which includes that plot-head Blueblood, so if you think I’m going to take any attitude from some hick cloud-kicker just because she’s the bearer of some expensive museum piece, then you’ve got another thing coming. Ambassador Quizzing told me the impression he needed you both to make tonight, and these are, in my professional opinion, which you cannot also have because you are not professionals, are the best outfits we have on hand to achieve that goal.”
“I don’t care about whatever crazy plan you’ve cocked up,” insisted Raindrops. “I’m not wearing this getup in public! I’d look ridiculous!”

*            *            *

“I look ridiculous…” grumbled Raindrops as she huddled in a corner of the sky chariot, hopefully out of sight of any stray onlookers that they passed.
“So, who is going to be at this feast…luncheon…thing?” asked Lyra curiously while gazing out the window as the mountains slowly rose around them.
“Every important player in our little game,” explained Quizzing with a confident smirk. “The most important being the Chief of the Gilded Wing clan, who are our current hosts, as well as his family, visiting members of the other griffons clans, and hopefully the Voice of the Sun as well.”
“Wait, you mean Corona’s goons are going to be there?” asked Raindrops. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but shouldn’t we have brought Bootheel, then?”
“Not necessarily,” said Quizzing. “You see, this is a delicate diplomatic event, and, as I’m sure you’re both well aware, the young sergeant is a rather…uncouth stallion. I’d rather not risk certain behaviors of his starting an incident.”
“So then what’s to stop the Voice from causing an ‘incident’ when we show up without a guard?” asked Raindrops before adding, “Not that I’m saying he would have done much to help, but still…”
“I’m sure that a quartet of distinguished Night Guards will be enough to dissuade any attempts at violence from our adversaries,” said Quizzing with a nod to the pegasi pulling the chariot. “And as a bonus, they also lend us an extra air of offciality for the proceedings.”
“I’m…not sure that’s a word,” said Lyra, but Quizzing ignored her as he peered through the misty horizon ahead of them.
“Ah, I do believe we’re almost there,” said the Ambassador with a smile as the coach burst clear of the cloud cover. Raindrops risked a peak out of the window and was surprised to see the valley below them filled with small, green shrubberies growing in the gap between two high mountains like grass through a crack in the sidewalk. A river ran through the stretch of green, its waters alternately crystal clear and frothy white as it ran through rapids. The coach flew in low as it followed the water’s coarse upstream and over a small waterfall.
“Whoa! Those fish are flying!” gasped Lyra as she pointed a hoof at a over a dozen red and silver fish that were leaping up the falling water.
“Actually they’re just spawning,” clarified Quizzing dully. “Those are just salmon. You’ll get to see a lot more of them during dinner.” 
They passed two more falls filled with spawning salmon before finally arriving at a large wooden lodge at the head of the valley. Other groups of guests were slowly trickling in from elsewhere in the mountains, and the Night Guards had to circle around twice before a finding a suitably clear patch of grass to land the chariot.
“Here we are, Dames,” said Roundhouse as she and her team uncoupled themselves from the coach. “I hope you’re both ready; this is where the real mission begins.”
“I think I’d feel a lot more ready if we didn’t have to wear this stupid costumes,” grumbled Raindrops as she adjusted her helmet.
“Aww, don’t say that,” said Lyra teasingly. “I think we look the part.”
“Easy for you to say,” said Raindrops as she glared at Lyra’s white toga and golden lauren crown. “This hat makes me look like Iron Will!”
“Actually, those helmets were originally worn by griffons as trophies to show that they had bested a minotaur in battle,” explained Quizzing as he adjusted his suit and tie. “Only the bravest, most powerful of warriors would wear them to show off their skill in battle.”
“What?” balked Raindrops. “You mean I’m wearing some minotaur’s head as a hat? That’s disgusting!”
“Of course not,” said Quizzing. “They’re only imitation. We don’t have the budget for real minotaur horn.”
“Are you sure?” asked Lyra as she peered at the rest of Raindrop’s outfit. “Cause this leather and fur looks pretty real to me…”
“Don’t you dare even joke about that,” said Raindrops with a glower. “Let’s just get in there, get this over with, and head back.”
“As you wish,” said Quizzing with a small bow. “This way, dames.” The group made their way towards the grand building, the ponies drawing looks from the other guests as well as the several guards standing watch. As Quizzing neared the door, two of the armored griffons crossed their halberds in front of the entryway, barring his path.
“Invitation?” demanded one as his partner continued to glare sternly.
“Ah, yes, of course, my good sirs,” said Quizzing as he took a folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket. “Here we go, nice and official.” The griffon snatched it from his hoof with a claw and read it quickly.
“Says only three here,” muttered the guard. “Who’re the other ones?”
“Ah, they would be our official escort,” explained Quizzing as he waved at hoof at the Night Guards. “These Dames are official Knights of Equestria and emissaries of the Princess herself, and as such warrant a particular level of protection, so you see.”
“The Gilded Wing ensures the safety of all of its guests, or do you doubt our honor?” asked the guard as his partner growled menacingly, the feathers on the back of his head standing on end.
“Of course not,” cut in Roundhouse as she stepped forwards. “Your clan has always dealt with us fairly and with the utmost honor. It is some of your…other guests that give us worry.”
“Do you think that we cannot keep a few ponies under control?”
“In my professional opinion? Of course,” said Roundhouse diplomatically. “But my duty requires me to take more than just your word, as I’m sure you understand.” The griffon stared her down for a few moments, sizing her up, before nodding firmly.
“Very well,” he said. “I’ll take you and your squad to our captain so he can assure you of the safety of your charges. As for the rest of you, welcome to the Griffon Kingdoms.”
“You should be safe,” Roundhouse whispered to Raindrops as the griffon guards raised their halberds, allowing them entry into the lodge. “But just in case, be careful. No telling what those solartics might have planned.”
“Gottcha,” said Raindrops as she followed Quizzing and Lyra inside while one of the griffons took the Night Guards around the side of the building. “Well, looks like we’re on our own.”
“I know, isn’t this exciting?” said Lyra as they walked through the short hallway.
“Thrilling,” said Raindrops just before they emerged onto a small balcony had all of her senses assaulted. 
The first sensations that hit her were the sounds; shouts and jeers, shrieks and laughter, and the clanging of what must have been a thousand plates and mugs punched her in the ears like some sort of fat, drunken orchestra.  The next were the smells, the heavy smoke from the burning braziers that lined the wall mixing with the heady aromas of dozens of types of strange foods, all spiced with a faint tinge of pine and feather dander. Sight was, surprisingly, the last thing to come into focus, her eyes blinking frantically to try and play catch-up as her ears and nose reeled. Even then she was barely able to make out any details, the roiling mass of bodies and tables covered in food and drink all dancing together into one big blur beneath the flickering firelight.
“Wow,” said Lyra, taking it all in, and Raindrops nodded in silent agreement.
“Names?” asked a voice somewhat closer than the rest of the ruckus, and Raindrops tried not to jump when she noticed the well dressed griffon peering down his sharp, hooked beak at her.
“Ah, yes,” said Quizzing, the ambassador completely unphased by their surroundings as he dug another piece of paper out of his jacket. “Here are our introductions. If you would, good sir.”
“But of course,” said the griffon politely as he took the offered parchment, cleared his throat with a loud cough, and began reading in a booming baritone that somehow drowned out the cacophony of the entire room. 
“Announcing Dame Lyra Heartstrings, Acclaimed Poet and Bearer of the Element of Loyalty, and her escort Dame Raindrops of Clan Drops, Bearer of the Element of Honestly, Slayer of Dragons, who…” The herald squinted at the card, then glanced skeptically at Quizzing, who nodded with a grin. “Who Personally Bucked Corona in the Face.”
“What?!” Raindrops shouted in a hushed tone. “Are you insane?! Why did you have him say that?”
“To assert our dominance, of course,” said Quizzing proudly. “This is politics, after all.”
“But none of it is true!” she whispered frantically. “I’ve never killed anything, let alone a dragon! And the worst we were able to do was laugh at her, which would’ve gotten us burnt to a crisp if the elements hadn’t saved us!”
“Well, you did buck a dragon, so both statements are sorta half right,” mused Lyra playfully.
“Don’t you dare encourage him!”
“If you would take your seats, please?” asked the herald impatiently, while another group of delegates behind them coughed loudly.
“Oh yes, right, of course,” said Quizzing quickly as he trotted over to the rail-less edge of the balcony. “Um, Dame Heartstrings, I don’t suppose you would know how to teleport short distances, would you?”
“Um…not really,” said Lyra with a curious tilt of her head.
“Ah well, was afraid not,” said Quizzing as he glanced over the edge down to the dining hall below. “Always hate this part…oh well, alleyup!”
“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” groaned Raindrops as the Equestrian Ambassador to the Griffon Kingdoms leapt off the edge of the balcony and landed with a small crash on the table below, sending bits of food and tableware flying into the air.
“Um…could I get a lift?” asked Lyra sheepishly.
“Yeah, that seems a bit sane,” said Raindrops as she grabbed her friend around her barrel and hauled her into the air, her strong wings easily carrying them down to the dining room floor in perfect safety.
“Oh, right, well done, Dames,” said Quizzing as he hobbled over to them, leaving a trail of dripping soup and angry glares behind him as he scrapped bits of cheese from his jacket. “Best to preserve our dignity here, as official emissaries of the Princess.”
“Dignity, right,” said Raindrops flatly.
“So, where are our seats?” asked Lyra excitedly as she glanced around the hall.
“Of course, over here, just follow me,” said Quizzing as he led them on a snaking path through the tables, occasionally stopping to smile and warmly greet a griffon that would return the gesture with silence and a curt nod.
“I don’t think they like him much,” Lyra whispered to her friend as one particularly ornery looking griffon replied to the ambassador with a hurled piece of bread and what was hopefully a butter knife.
“Ya think?”
“Ah, here we are,” said Quizzing at last as they reached an empty table near the back of the hall. “Our official seating.” He gestured for the mares to sit on the long bench facing the rest of the room, while he sat down on the other side and wasted no time removing one of the large silver lids covering the various platters of food adorning the table. A growling in her stomach reminded Raindrops that she had barely eaten at all today as she took her seat, Lyra eagerly plopping down on her haunches next to her. 
They quickly uncovered the rest of the meal, revealing different loaves of bread, some baked potatoes, a bowl filled with some sort of dark, black soup, and a long slice of something pink that neither had seen before. Her mouth watering, Raindrops had only just started filling her plate when something heavy landed on the bench next to her and clapped her on the shoulder.
“Dropsy! What’s up? I didn’t know you were in town!”
“Gilda?!” Raindrops nearly shouted in surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, maybe because I live here, duh,” snarked Gilda. 
“Oh…” said Raindrops sheepishly as the griffon started to help herself to the table’s fare. 
“Anyways, that was quite the entrance there, Miss Dame,” said Gilda as she filled a bowl of black soup. “I mean, I knew you were tough, but dragon slayer? Alicorn bucker? You must’ve been holding back on me back in Ponyville. Heck, I almost feel insulted.”
“She is also, might I remind you, a Knight and representative of Luna Equestris,” added Quizzing sternly, which earned a few chuckles out of the griffon.
“Well duh she’d be after all that. You ponies may be soft, but you’re not stupid. Should’ve given Dropsy her own province after something as cool as that.”
“Yeah, totally,” said Raindrops with a forced chuckle as she tried to focus on the food. She poked at the strange slab of pink with a knife, and to her surprise a chuck of it easily flaked off. “Um…if you don’t mind me asking, what is this? I’ve never had griffon food before.”
“Oh, that’s my favorite!” said Gilda as she scooped a piece of it into her beak. “Mhmm, salmon.”
“Salmon?” said Raindrops curiously before the bottom fell out of her stomach. “Wait… salmon?!?! You mean those fish we saw in the river on our way here?!”
“Indeed,” said Quizzing as he ate a forkful of the pink fish.
“But that’s meat!” 
Gilda laughed at the pegasus’s distress and ate another piece. “Welcome to the Griffon Kingdoms, Dropsy,” she said while licking her talons. 
“Um, Raindrops, you do know that griffons eat meat, right?” said Lyra calmly as she slathered jam onto a thick slice of bread. “Didn’t you notice the skewered field mice and roasted stoat at the other tables on the way here?”
“Well…not really,” said Raindrops as she glanced around the room, noticing for the first time the numerous small animals that sat as the centerpieces of most of the tables. “But still, none of that is on our table, so why salmon?”
“Because I happen to enjoy it,” said Quizzing as he took another bite.
“But you’re a pony! We don’t eat meat!”
“We don’t?” said Quizzing, stopping with a forkful of salmon halfway to his mouth before shrugging. “Oh well, when in Roam.”
“But…but…” stuttered Raindrops, but Gilda just rolled her eyes.
“Chill out, Dropsy. You didn’t hear me complaining about ponies eating nothing but cake, flowers and frosting, did you? Just pinion up and enjoy your food while you can,” said Gilda as she tilted the bowl of black soup into her beak, pouring its entire contents down her gullet.
“Gah, fine,” said Raindrops as her stomach rumbled, reminding her that there was a whole plate of non-flesh food in front of her. She took a large bite out of a loaf of bread just as Gilda slammed her empty bowl down on the table and let out a large belch.
“That’s some good stuff,” said the griffon with a grin. “So, I guess you guys are here about Terry’s group, right?”
“Terry?” asked Lyra. “Who’s Terry?”
“Meh, he’s the Chief’s runt of a son,” said Gilda with a shrug. “Third in line to inherit the seat, but was such a scrawny wimp that I bet Gavril would’ve put a diamond dog on the seat first. Or, at least until he started running with those weird sun-lovers, that is.” 
“One of the Chief’s son’s joined the solartics?” asked Lyra worriedly.
“Which underscores the urgency of our mission,” added Quizzing, gagging slightly as he tried to swallow a spoonful of soup.
“Wait, ‘was a scrawny wimp?’” said Raindrops curiously. “What do you mean by that?”
“You mean you haven’t heard what Celestia did to—” Gilda was interrupted as loud trumpets blared throughout the hall. “Well, speak of the dragon. Looks like you’ll get to see for yourselves.”
“Announcing The Voice of the Sun, Divine Representative of Queen Celestia of Equestria, and Terrorwing, her Chosen Champion!” Raindrops and Lyra both turned to look at the balcony, and couldn’t help but stare in shock at the creature entering the room. He had the basic shape of a griffon, though larger than even the burly guards that had been stationed outside, and easily a head taller than Gilda. His beak and talons were like golden daggers, and he swept the room with a piercing gaze sharper than any knife, and Lyra felt a slight chill run down her spine as he fixed his eyes on their table.
“That’s Terrorwing?” asked Raindrops, and Gilda nodded.
“Yep, that’s the runt,” said Gilda with a chuckle.
“He looks like Philomena,” gasped Lyra as she stared at his red and golden feathers that danced like living flames.
“Who?” 
“Corona’s pet phoenix,” explained Raindrops as Terrorwing turned and nodded to the rest of his party before taking to the air. 
“You’re telling me that that…thing used to be a scrawny griffon?” asked Lyra incredulously as she watched each beat of his fiery wings scatter small clouds of cinders into the air. “What in Equestria did Corona do to him?”
“I don’t know,” said Gilda with a shrug as she pointed back to the balcony. “Maybe you should ask him.”
In some ways, the pony that followed Terrorwing was even more disturbing. What could be seen of his coat was a deep red, with plates of golden armor covering his head and back that almost reminded Raindrops of the Cavalian guard. But while Princess Cadence’s troops wore ceremonial manes on their helmets, this stallion’s mane and tail were billowing streams of flames, and his eyes glowed with a blank white light.
“So,” said Raindrops as the pegasus spread his wings and followed Terrorwing across the room, a small entourage of young griffons trailing behind him. “That’s Corona’s flunkie? That’s The Voice of the Sun?”
“Indeed,” said Quizzing direly. “That is our opponent.”
“Wow,” said Lyra with a small whistle. “I knew that anypony that was a solartic was going to be crazy creepy, but I don’t think I was expecting that.”
“But how could anypony—heck, anyone be crazy enough to follow him?” asked Raindrops. To her surprise, Gilda chuckled.
“You saw little Terry, right?” she said with a shrug as the group of solartics landed on a raised platform clear of tables on the other side of the hall. “Besides, wait until you hear this.”
“THE VOICE OF THE SUN DEMANDS YOUR ATTENTION!” Terrorwing roared, his voice reverberating across the hall like an explosion, a deep trembling more felt than heard.  A hush began to spread as the red pegasus stepped forwards, his sun-white eyes gazing out across the room with an aloft patience.
“Wait a minute…Oh ho-ho, so he gets to make a speech, eh?” said Quizzing angrily as he stood from his seat. “Well, we’ll see who gets the laugh quip at this luncheon. Mares, if you’d excuse me, I have some feathers to twist” As the ambassador walked off, The Voice cleared his throat, and the room fell into some semblance of silence as he began to speak.
“Esteemed hosts,” said the fiery pegasus, his voice ringing through the hall with a warmth and clarity that surprised Lyra and Raindrops. “I would like to take this moment to thank you for your hospitality. And, in return for your generosity, I would like to share with you a gift. Not the boon of Corona, which we are still eager to bring to any of those among you who wish to add your strength to the cause of restoring our Queen to her throne. No. What I would instead like to give you is something that this gathering of wise souls knows is worth more than any gold or gems: knowledge.
“Long ago,” continued the Voice of the Sun as he swept his warm smile across the audience. “When the first pony cities were forming in ancient Hippopotamia, those first seedlings of civilization faced an issue: with so many ponies all gathered in one place, arguments and quarrels arose near constantly, and they needed a way to settle them so as to restore harmony to their burgeoning society. To do this they chose one pony, one whom the community deemed as wise and sound in judgment, to settle disputes and ensure that laws were created and enforced fairly. They called this position a tyranny, and the appointed pony a tyrant, and they ruled not for their own benefit, but for the good of all.
“But some ponies, the wealthy and the powerful, resented this fairness. To these aristocrats, the very thought of being treated as equals with those who had less chaffed at their pride. And so, using their influence, money and power, they sowed the seeds of misinformation amongst their fellow citizens. They told those who benefited from fair and sound laws that they were being held back by overbearing restraints. And through deceit and subterfuge, they convinced everypony that those who had worked tirelessly for the good of all were an evil that needed to be cast down, subverting the very language itself towards their own ends. Tyrants, who had ruled for the good of all, became oppressors. The aristocrats named themselves nobles, even though they cared only for themselves. And equality became a lie.
“And under this shadow, history marched on. The Wendingo’s Winter, Hearts Warming Eve, the founding of Equestria. And then,” said the Voice as he paused, smiling to himself warmly as though remembering a fond moment from his foalhood. “The Princesses came, and, once more, ponykind had a good and just ruler…until she was taken from us.” His glowing eyes narrowed in hatred, and his voice dropped to a low, dark rumble of barely contained anger that seethed through his billowing mane. “And her sister, the Usurper, took the power of the laws and gave them back to the so-called nobility, to ensure that fairness and equality would be kept from the common citizen like water from a mare dying of thirst.
“This is the gift I give to you: the knowledge that for a thousand years, my kind has known only treachery and lies. That we have been bereft of our rightful ruler, left to wallow in corruption and darkness. What you do with this knowledge is up to you, and I leave it to your honor, and your reason, and your pride as warriors to do the right thing. Help us overthrow the Usurper. Help us restore our true Queen. Help us lift the sun back into its rightful place in the sky, so that not only Equestria, but the world can see the light of a new dawn, and end this false night that has plagued both our nations for far too long.
“Thank you, my good hosts. Enjoy your meal.” He bowed deeply before The Voice and his group left the stage, and made their way to a table far from the other Equestrians.
“Was that true?” asked Raindrops curiously as the murmurs of conversation slowly began to refill the room in the wake of the speech.
“I’m…not sure,” said Lyra uncertainly. “I mean, I’m pretty sure that the stuff about Hippopotamia being one of the first civilizations and inventing the word ‘tryant’ are true, but… well, history can be subjective.”
“So he’s probably just making it all up,” growled Raindrops angrily.
“Could be, but I don’t know enough facts to be able to say for sure,” admitted Lyra. “Cheerilee could probably say some things, but I mostly just know a lot of the old myths and legends, which aren’t necessarily facts.”
“Neither is anything that he says,” added Raindrops.
“Still, the buck has a way with words,” said Gilda. “And there’s more than a few featherbrains who’ll gladly do what he says if it means Celestia will do to them what she did to Terry.” Raindrops was just beginning to say something else when Quizzing ran up to their table and grabbed Lyra’s front leg.
“Okay, Dame Heartstrings, you’re up!” said the Ambassador frantically as he started to tug Lyra away from the table.
“Wait, hold on! Up for what?” she asked as she stumbled out of her seat.
“I arranged to have you give an impromptu performance on stage, hopefully fix some of the damage that Kindle caused with his speech,” explained Quizzing.
“Damage? What damage?” asked Raindrops incredulously. “It was just a speech, how much damage could it have caused?” To her surprise, Quizzing rounded on her, poking a hoof in her chest and glaring daggers at her.
“Political battles are won and lost in the heart and mind, young filly,” said Quizzing sternly. “For all we know, if we don’t respond to this immediately, this could be the deciding point in this whole war. Now, Dame Heartstrings, we have to find you a song and instrument to play it on before his heretical words are seared into the minds of every griffon here.”
“Um, actually I’m good on instruments,” said Lyra as she summoned her lyre in a burst of golden light. “But I’m not sure what song I’m supposed to play to counteract an overly theatrical history lesson…”
“Oh, wow, a lyre,” said Gilda with surprise. “Didn’t know you could play that with hooves. Do you know ‘Between Grass and Cloud’? “
“Not the original, but I think I can do the Equestria cover by Massive Sky,” said Lyra as she stroked a few cords tentatively.
“Do that one, then,” suggested Gilda. “The old windbags should eat it up, and every griffon loves the classics.”
“Alright then, lead the way, Ambassador,” said Lyra as she and Quizzing headed for the now vacant stage.
“That stallion has got to be insane,” muttered Raindrops as soon as the two other ponies were out of earshot. “Just a bunch of empty words and pretty lies couldn’t actually make that much of a difference, right?”
“Don’t look at me; I’m a fighter, not a thinker,” said Gilda as she refilled her plate. “Sides, I spent enough time with ponies to realize just how big of a deal his supposed queen is. Takes a lot of bad stuff to make a whole country so afraid of the sun that they hide in their houses at noon.”
“You have no idea,” said Raindrops.
Across the hall, Quizzing gave Lyra a boost to help her climb onto the stage. “Why don’t they have any stairs?” asked Lyra as she pulled herself onto the platform.
“I ask myself that almost every day,” grunted Quizzing. “Now, break a leg!”
“Right…” sighed Lyra as she stood up on her hind legs, holding her lyre in her front hooves. “Here goes nothing.” She strummed the strings with her hoof, and the noisy chattering of a hundred conversations slowly quieted as the notes danced through the hall.
It took a few moments for the crowd to quiet enough for Raindrops to hear from the back of the hall, but when she did, the calm, soothing melody made her smile. It was, to her ears at least, beautiful. Other ponies might have been able to describe the sound more fully, or compliment an arrangement of chords or Luna knew what else, but that one simple word was all that Raindrops needed. For a moment, she forgot all about where she was, or why she was there. Raindrops took a deep breath and blew it out softly, letting go of that day’s pent up stress as she returned to memories of the early morning that seemed so long ago. She felt the cold stone beneath her hooves as she watched the sun rise and a stallion smile, and she lost herself so completely in the feelings of the music that she didn’t notice the mare who walked up next to her.
“Excuse me, Dame Raindrops of Clan Drops?” said a voice that nearly started Raindrops out of her seat. She turned to see a unicorn the color of soot staring at her with a detached expression as a few more notes of Lyra’s song played through the awkward silence.
“Um…yeah, that’s me,” said Raindrops sheepishly, and the grey mare nodded.
“I have an invitation for you, and for Dame Heartstrings,” she said, her horn glowing as she removed a golden envelope from her saddlebags and placed it on the table in front of Raindrops. “The Voice of the Sun wishes to extend to you both to dine with him tonight under a banner of truce in the name of Equestrian unity.”
“What?” shouted Raindrops, and a few of the griffons a table over turned and shushed her angrily. “Uh…I mean, what? You can’t seriously think we’d fall for that, would you?”
“You have been assured the utmost hospitality while you are his guests,” the unicorn assured her. “He swears by the name of Queen Celestial, Sol Invicta, that no harm will come to you while you are under his roof.”
“Okay…” said Raindrops hesitantly as she picked up the envelope. “But…um…why?”
“Because you both share a common goal: harmony, and a better future for all of Equestria,” explained the ashen mare. “He hopes that you will consider his offer, and that he will see you later this evening, when the glory of the sun has just begun to set. Good day, Dame Raindrops.” She finished with a bow and turned to leave, disappearing amidst the crowd just as Lyra’s piece finished. 
As the room filled with applause for her friend’s performance, Raindrops stared down at the golden invitation, sealed with red wax in the shape of a spiraling sun.