In the months since her coronation, Queen Stellaura had hardly been able to see her brother, since she was so caught up in new duties that warranted her attention be directed elsewhere. She hoped Hasad didn't feel bad about this, though, since she was entirely sure he enjoyed talking to her, after all, he had always helped her.
But today was busy with her new friend. She had met Princess Etna at her coronation. She was from the neighboring country, a harsh and awesome mountainous land with jagged peaks that clawed towards the sky in a fierce attempt to escape the hellish waste created by their fire-belching brethren and the unforgiving climate.
No ponies were able to live in most of this land, instead the populous minotaurs dwelt in this country, constructing tall villas that sheltered fragile vineyards and olive groves. The sang proud epics so that their mirthful tunes and wine-drinking might bring the heroes of their art - delicate mosaics and frescoes - back to life so they may slay monsters and go on odysseys once again.
The minotaurs were not alone in this westward neighbor, with the Everfree Kingdom to the north of them both. Dragons of all kinds crawled and flew throughout the land, hoarding treasure and dueling in the sky. Some were even known to train young heroes and the aspiring sorcerer, while others gobbled up the travelers who strayed too far into the treacherous mountains, searching for much needed mountain springs to supply flocks of goats and sheep.
Messengers were not to be trusted due to such unsafe conditions, so instead the creatures of this land - including the mountain and volcano gods that made up Etna's family - sent out phoenixes to carry messages, inviting much loved guests to the sacred hearths of villas and mountain estates. It was only near the coast that a few ponies were able to live in bustling hilly cities carved of stone and magic with mazes of streets that rotated and changed like the gears of a clock, and great caverns housed awe-striking magical feats in the deepest subterranean places: portals and great structures yawning in the darkness. Boats with eyes of paint and enchantment rested in the harbor patiently waiting for their next crew.
Stellaura would listen eagerly as Princess Etna told tales of her homeland. Even though the queen had heard of the land from which the princess hailed, but never before had she heard words paint such a vivid picture and made her feel like she knew what it was like to breathe the air of the harsh mountains as gray as the clouds of a storm. The mountains of Stellaura's land eventually grew into those Princess Etna knew, despite how different they were. Every night they looked up at the same sky.
Gray and rocky behemoths. Those that spouted fire that destroyed all in its wake yet provided the only fertile soil the land had.
Dusty brown stone softened by the wind that whistled through their lonely peeks like the reeds of the north. There was hardly any fire to be seen, and few depended on these mountains for life.
Sometimes the snow never stopped.
The sand would get in Stellaura's mane.
There was no sand where Etna lived, even the beaches were rocks on which the sea crashed endlessly.
Stellaura lived in a turreted palace surrounded by ponies, lithe horses, and endless cities whose turrets sheltered skinny trees that swayed in the wind. Her only family were Nora and Hasad.
Princess Etna was from a fortress built into a mountain where words resonated throughout a thousand twisting halls like the mighty crack of lightning. Some of these tunnels stretched deep throughout each mountain range and volcano heart like nerve endings. There were no trees and the only green was that of olives and her coat. There were no smooth tiles, courtyard fountains, or perfumed blossoms. Instead she had cold eyeries carved with magic from the very mountains themselves. There was no poetry or gentle music in that floated through the breeze each evening as ponies laughed and danced in city streets.
Princess Etna knew no quiet studies or silent hours. She lived with a barrage of cousins and siblings with fiery tempers and stubborn dispositions who knew only to shout in the Royal Voice instead of speak. Her mother, Queen Helena and brother, Prince Denali, were no different. The only mountain spirit unlike this was Canterhorn, the lord of this particular Alicorn family, who resided far to the north on the peak of an unsettled mountain who had yet to know any form of architecture.
In no time at all Queen Stellaura and Princess Etna had become inseparable.
...
On this day Princess Etna was trying to make her way through one of the halls of Marecca's palace. She still hadn't gotten used to the layout in the decades since she met Stellaura at her coronation.
Now if only she could find her!
Sunlight wafted through one of the bright corridor's pane-less windows, stirring a linen curtain slightly.
It was often hard to find Stellaura whenever the princess visited, since the queen was frequently as busy as her elder counterpart, or retreating into her usual shyness.
Despite the godly levels of Alicorn magic Princess Etna had never been one for the more diplomatic spells like one that properly translate Arabian, Arcane, or any other tongue. She was a geomancer, a master of the earth, rocks, all things tectonic and subduction. Of course she was lucky enough to be fairly fluent in Equish, the language of the Everfree and the Arabian Stellaura was teaching her wasn't too hard to remember. Perhaps one day, oh say a few centuries from now they'd be so fluent in the other's native language that it would be impossible to tell who originally spoke what.
Princess Etna paused and looked out a window, inhaling the air which had never mixed with ash.
Her recent thoughts popped into her mind like bubbles in sea foam. Everypony was always talking about Hasad, her twin brother. Princess Etna never understood why. She'd hardly ever talked to him, compared to his sisters he was well-spoken, but otherwise seemed normal, and painfully so. Instead, the princess compared the two queens to each other whenever she said that.
Those two were everlasting. She could remember them so well: Elinora the wise and devoted, followed by Stellaura the shy but earnest.
Next to her, somepony spoke. Etna turned, it was none other then the prince himself.
He repeated what he said. She furrowed her brow.
"Sorry... my Arabian poor," Etna replied apologetically.
Hasad's horn flashed magenta. "Will this do?"
Etna nodded, finally able to hear words spoken in her native tongue.
"Are you looking for Sister?" he asked. That right there was one of the few things she recalled about Hasad, he always referred to Stellaura as Sister and Elinora as Elder Sister. She guessed it was sort of cute, but he always seemed to for go names of others whenever needed and address them by whatever title they might have, saying he felt disrespectful if he didn't put emphasis on station before anything else.
"Yes, I am. Have you seen her?"
He smiled politely. "We are afraid We have not seen her around. But We have noted that you have taken many frequent trips to our land recently and hope that you are well, as is your family."
Etna tried to return the smile. This was the second thing about Hasad: he was very formal, never had she heard him ever say 'I' or 'mine'. "Yes, everpony is well and your sister is a friend of mine, remember?" The last part - 'remember' - had obviously been a joke.
"We do." He didn't get the joke.
"Well then how is everything over here in Sand Land?"
"Quite sandy, now that you ask, Princess."
Hasad's eye twitched and it did not go unnoticed to his guest.
"What is wrong?" Etna asked.
"Oh, nothing it is just that-" Hasad pointed to her wavy forelock, which was neatly swept to the side, yet a few glowing strands did fall across her brow.
Etna's eyes followed his accusing hoof. "My forelock? What about it?"
"We have never been fond of the style, that is all. It is so... irritating," Hasad replied dryly.
Etna noted that even though he was Stellaura's twin, their resemblance wasn't as great as some of the castle's would suggest, or at least not as great as it had once been.
Stellaura had a curly purple mane tinged with black that shimmered and flowed, glimmering like magic aura itself. Her eyes were often hidden by the few curly strands that fell in her face and managed to escape the confines of circlets she would often wear. Hasad's mane had lost most of the purple to it, as well as the curl his sister's mane had retained. He parted it and brushed the natural forelock back. His mane and tail had only managed to change partway so far into a near-featureless wave of flowing black. He was also much taller than most Alicorns his age, and Etna hated feeling short.
"So," Etna said as she flipped her mane to the side so the silly prince would stop complaining, "I know Stellaura can seal things, but what is it you do? Are you trying to get your mark in anything?"
His smile didn't falter. "No not really, We are too preoccupied with work and adventure never really interested Us. And do you really think it would be fair to Our Sister for us to devote all our energies to seeking that? We have royal duties as well, and neglecting them would be irresponsible of Us."
Boring. Boring. Boring.
Etna tried to listen as he went on and on his dull conversation extending beyond what she would have willingly tolerated. She grew even more impatient and after a hurried good bye she went off to find her friend even though something else was on her mind. Prince Hasad was the most boring creature to ever exist, she was right not to have paid attention to him.