//------------------------------// // Prologue Chapter: Opening Moves // Story: MLP: King's Game // by AlexanderAkai //------------------------------// Prologue Chapter: Opening Moves “He who sacrifices his conscience to ambition burns a picture to obtain the ashes” -Eastern Equine Proverb. Fireworks cracked against the sky and cannons boomed, littering the early morning darkness above Canterlot with a plethora of dancing colors and cascading sparks. Rockets soared skyward from the capital, exploding in showers of gold and red that splashed together whilst their purple and blue twins spiraled and flashed through the still blackened sky above them. Dispensing fiery illuminations of their own sat the anchored airships of the imperial aerial navy; with small and light sloops and hulking flag ships alike. Amidst the cornucopia of glittering explosions and golden warships, streams of storm clouds danced, flipping and turning in perfect symmetry. At the head of these streams raced the Wonderbolts, the elite flyers of Equestria. At regular intervals they dropped sizable fireworks of their own as they flipped end over end through the celebratory minefield. On the streets below, the throng of the imperial capital flowed lively. Every main street to every stone path trembled with rambunctious hooves. Little fillies and colts chased one another around, many of which adorned masks of Empress Celestia and Princess Luna. The market districts were filled to the brim with stalls; selling everything from sweets to alcohol, while others offered games and comedic puppet shows. Street performers and local bands alike filled every building and street corner with upbeat patriotic tunes, a tribute to the royal guards that paraded throughout Canterlot. Citizens of all ages and social stature had turned out to welcome and congratulate the returning mares and stallions of the Solar Empire’s military from their final campaign against the rebellious splinter group that was the New Lunar Republic. This would have normally been more than reason enough to celebrate, but this occasion was more than that. This night marked the two year anniversary of the return and defeat of the traitorous Nightmare Moon. Once again united, the ponies of Equestria danced, ate, drank, and reveled in the boisterous party of Canterlot. Another explosion sounded above as the Wonderbolts passed overhead the main parade route, eliciting a hearty cheer from the citizens below. The parade procession spanned great lengths through the city, showcasing what seemed like miles of sparkling imperial armor as the soldiers trotted in uniform cadence to the royal palace. Citizen after citizen threw flowers of varying type before the returning imperials, from fragrant roses to the patriotic sunflower. Platoons marched column by column with heads held high; their ranks separated by the golden chariots of each platoon’s captain. Behind the bulk of the army parade lagged the medical corps and the allied Griffon artillery units with their unusual black powder cannons. Both of which were showered with cheers and anonymous gifts for the lives they saved and preserved out in the harsh fields. With such an outpour of support, many soldiers found it difficult to maintain their composure despite attempts to remain professional. So many were happy to be home after such hard fought battles against the NLR, so grateful to be the ones who made it back. Many were seen to be smiling and many more were seen with tears of joy flowing from their eyes, which coerced more than a few citizens to donate tears of their own to the cobblestone street below. With the new evil crushed, the Solar Empire would once again know peace. Tonight, Canterlot was a pure, undiluted beacon of light, laughter, and loyalty that would lead all of Equestria towards a brighter future. But far from the revelry of the common pony folk, sits the high palace of Canterlot, and seat of all imperial power in Equestria. A power that has become as insatiable as a starved Ursa Minor. A power sought after by many, but attainable by few. Here sits a world seemingly in it of itself. The world of the Nobility. Into the massive courtyard of the royal palace, Equestria’s equally massive standing armed forces began to funnel. Above the glimmering legions sits the viewing terrace of the throne room, and with it stand the thoroughbred elite of the royal family. Among them flock the best dressed foreign dignitaries and richest sycophantic nobles alike, all of whom are either merely enjoying themselves in the festivities or are concocting how best to leech onto their sovereign hosts. The royal orchestra is already in full tune, gently urging forth the most beautiful songs of the empire. With lighthearted piano solos flowing into somber viola duets. Maids and butlers dutifully patrol the premises, carrying various libations and hors d'oeuvres to satisfy the elite tastes of the prim and proper. Easily spotted amongst the noble crowd is Prince Blueblood, who is currently being followed by a quartet of lovely mares of status. However, his apparent disinterest in them has done little to drive them away, and they continue to pester the golden haired prude. Several feet from him stands the suave Count Fancy Pants, with his soft spoken wife, Viscountess Fleur de Lis. Both are conversing with the ever fabulous Rarity, holder of the fourth element of harmony. Around them gather many of the lower nobility. All dressed in Canterlot’s latest fashions. All seeking approval from their ordained betters. If one did not know better than to say so, one might conclude that Fancy and Rarity enjoyed making the other nobles sweat a bit. Still, as potential social leverages, many saw no other choice but to attach themselves to the more influential guests. Not even the divine Princess Luna is an exception to this rule, being in the midst of a conversation with the Empress’s own pupil, holder of the sixth element of harmony, Twilight Sparkle. Together, they’ve been discussing how the stigma against Luna’s name will now fade that there are none left to uphold it. Unfortunately, this discussion is often interrupted by clamoring barons and baronesses, much to the chagrin of them both. All insisting on commenting on how absolutely stunning the princess of the night looks instead of anything remotely applicable to their conversation. While Luna enjoys the positive attention, she is well aware that it is insincere. Twilight however is having trouble keeping her composure, reminded of the Gala incident many moons ago. At the opposite end stands the spectacularly stunning Princess Cadence, who is only half immersed in her conversation with the griffon Pierre Arlange, ambassador to the Gryphus Empire. The young princess periodically checks over the side of the balcony to the formations below for a glimpse of her husband, Hero of Canterlot and the now Colonel: Shining Armor. As the front ranks finish their uniform display and bring themselves to a halt, the commanders of each regiment pull to the front. Shining, is easily spotted for his favorite medal and blue regalia trots promptly in position. The pair exchanges respectful nods to one another before falling in lines of their own. The sight of her beloved amongst the first of the congregating officers is a comforting one. In the courtyard below, she can see him looking up at her. She smiles and whispers, “Welcome home.” At the head of the balcony group stands the omnipotent and graceful Empress Celestia, clad in swaying robes and ornaments that glimmer with such potent luster, one might mistake the fabric for pure sunlight. She nods gracefully to her many subjects’ congratulatory comments with nary a word or break of poise, with her ever deluging mane gently caressing the air around her. Such is she that needs no words; a goddess among mortal equines. A goddess that commands the respect, love, and fear of every stallion, mare, and foal in the ever expanding empire of Equestria. Away from the adulating array before them, at a table nearest the orchestra, two unicorns sit. One is a beautiful young mare, whose full peach pelt and pink curly mane clashes with her emerald and gold gala gown. The other, is a thin stallion with an alabaster coat and a neatly combed slick black mane. A monocle hangs in his eye, accessorizing his silken magenta suit nicely. A chess board lays prostrate between the two. A golden aura sparked from the stallion’s ivory colored horn, holding a wine glass aloft as he waits for the peach colored mare before him to make her move. A pink spark ignites, and a black rook on the board moves forward, capturing another white pawn. Confident of her steady progress, she smirks to her opponent and lets her chin rest on her hooves. A lone cellist begins a solo parallel to them, giving a lovely atmosphere. “Dégoûtant.” mutters the stallion with a before sipping at his glass, eliciting a confused look from the mare. She blinks her made up orange eyes, “Excuse me, my lord. I only speak Equestrian.” Without taking his eyes off the board, he repeats with a lingering Gryphus accent, “Disgusting.” His horn sparks up again, this time moving a white bishop out of range of her rook and into check of her king, who had been cornered by its own defenders. “And check, Lady High Living.” At this, High Living heaves a sigh and lowers her head, after a moment she knocks over her king, scowling all the while. “My strategies may be simple, but far from disgusting.” At this remark, the stallion looks up at her, his golden stare meeting her eyes of fire. “Not you, Madame. The absence of my family disgusts me. It shows ‘ow little zey care about affairs that do not directly benefit them or the Le Blanc name.” Pursing her lips, High Living gave his words some thought, answering in such a way that would not openly defy his previous statement, “My lord, surely your elder brother is in the courtyard below. He is a Major, no?” The stallion chuckles softly, “Chasseur is here per his duty, as a major of the imperial army. He would not be down zere if his absence meant nothing to his betters.” He pauses, sipping the last of his wine and chortling to himself, “Well, zat and he doesn’t get a free pass from mother like Prosper does.” The levitating glass slowly falls, the golden aura slithering away from it as it is placed gingerly onto the table. “It matters not, zey need not attend this celebration for my plans to move forward.” His horn sparks again, levitating a small napkin from the table to his mouth; he dabs his lips gently as High Living speaks up, “You’re moving ahead so quickly!?” Lowering the napkin, the stallion responds in a hushed tone, wary that the orchestra has ceased playing “I am Esprit Le Blanc, youngest son of the Le Blanc royal line, and Earl of Liverfoal. I vowed zat my family would not see the next year. And their ends will come from those they never thought to look for.” Suddenly, a fanfare sounded below, causing Esprit to regard the gathering nobles who flocked to the balcony behind the Empress. In particular, he looks to Count Fancy and Rarity. The army had likely by now completely assembled below, and was likely ready to perform the imperial anthem. Looking back to High Living, Esprit motions that they should join in. As they walked, Esprit continued, “I have already dispatched The Trotter to inform the brothers of my plans, they will have the leverage secured before the candidate has an opportunity to react.” The massive chorus rang out from the palace courtyard, thousands of voices becoming one. ♫ We are Sons and Daughters of greatness! there is no challenge we won't face, for the sun and glory of our land our voices will climb to the heavens, ♫ High Living lowered her voice to a whisper as they entered the crowded balcony. “My Lord, might I inquire as to who the candidate is?” This elicited a smile from Esprit, “That impatient attitude does not suite you, Madame. Just know that zey will have no choice but to generously offer their cooperation to us.” ♫ All hail our Empress Celestia our Goddess your golden wisdom won't lead us astray! Beloved mother, please lead us from darkness, your divine light shall show us the way! ♫ As the chorus reached a crescendo, the smiling sun goddess took flight into the morning air. She rose higher and higher above the spires of the palace and the airships anchored around them. Far above the all others, Celestia outstretched her wings to their fullest breadth. And as though to see the sight for itself the dawn climbed over the eastern horizon to greet the goddess. On the streets below, ponies of all sorts rejoiced at the symbol and jubilated with renewed vigor. The last of the fireworks and cannons above Canterlot boomed. The dark night had passed for Equestria, the new dawn had come. A dawn of hope for many. A dawn of leisure for few. A dawn of pain for one.