Relinquish the Sun

by Error732

Chapter I

The clink of Celestia's golden horseshoes echoed against the cave walls. Damp, stale air entered her nostrils with every breath. This far from the surface, her horn provided the only illumination.

The air ahead shifted. Something the light could not yet reach emerged from the deeper tunnels. As Celestia approached, her horn revealed a figure covered in purple-grey scales. Its clawed feet nestled neatly among the rocks of the cavern floor, and the curves of its folded wings rose almost to the ceiling. A pair of red eyes gleamed down at the approaching alicorn, and at last the figure spoke.

"Princess Celestia," reverberated a serpentine voice. "We are glad you've come." Though the dragon had only whispered these words, the profundity of his voice had given it the sound of a dull quake.

"Thank you for having me," said the princess, levelly. She dipped her head very slightly in recognition. "I consider this visit a rare honor. It is not often that dragons make diplomatic requests of Equestria."

"Not often by pony standards," creaked the dragon, "but it is not without precedent. Welcome, Your Highness." He said these last words playfully, as if he found the title quaint. "I am Fucang. The rest of us who will meet you are right this way." He turned his massive body with ease, though the ground shook with each of his strides. He led the way deeper into the mountain's interior, and Celestia followed, the clink of her hooves now drowned out by the motion of the dragon ahead of her.

Celestia had to canter to keep pace with her host, but she did so without breaking her royal composure. She had agreed to arrive here unescorted, much to the chagrin of her advisors. The invitation was a test; a weaker-willed ruler might have insisted on an entourage for her security, but this would be foolishness—what security was there against a council of dragons? Her entire guard could charge a dragon for her (and for their sovereign, they surely would) without so much as scratching its hide. But the dragons had not called her here to fight, and she would need a different kind of bravery today.

The walls diverged as they proceeded, and the floor angled downward. Celestia followed her host through twists and turns, carefully etching each one into her mind. She brightened the light of her horn, but still the darkness pressed in on them, as if they were deep in the stomach of some continent-sized creature. There was little life down here, save for the occasional insect or spiderweb, but even they seemed cowed at the passing presence of a dragon.

At last, they reached a chamber that did not echo as though empty. The air here was hot and humid, and from just beyond Celestia's sight came the sound of powerful bodies shifting their weight. At the center of the cavern, or at least at the center of Celestia's bubble of visibility, waited a green dragon. It was more slender than Fucang in frame, but its height and angular features made it just as imposing. Its tail flicked idly beside its hunched frame, and its slitted eyes followed Celestia hungrily.

Fucang stopped, exchanged a long glance with his fellow, then took his position beside him. There was a long silence as a crowd of serpentine eyes inspected her.

"I apologize, Princess," said the green dragon, in a low hiss, "for not being a more hospitable host. We dragons are so accustomed to the darkness, it did not occur to us that pony eyesight would not function here."

Her smile made Celestia doubt the veracity of his claim, but nonetheless she accepted her words with a solemn nod.

"But of course your clever magics have solved that problem nicely. Ponies, and you especially, have always been quite resourceful with magic." Her grin widened, showing off a few dagger-long teeth.

Beneath her stolid exterior, Celestia felt this dragon wearing at her patience already. She seemed a bit like a cat playing with a cornered mouse; though, Celestia thought to herself, that probably wasn't the role she wanted to assign herself in this exchange.

"Thank you for your kind words," Celestia projected into the darkness. "Equestria prides itself on the cultivation of magic to improve the world."

From one of the half-lit silhouettes came a snort of derision. Perhaps it had been muffled by dragon standards.

"Magic to improve the world! How perfectly relevant to our meeting," came an excited reply. "But I am getting ahead of myself. Forgive my rudeness. You may call me Zhuyin; Fucang and I will be representing draconian interests today."

Ever unflinching, Celestia said, "A pleasure to meet you, Zhuyin."

Zhuyin did not acknowledge the pleasantry, as if the pleasure of meeting her were too obvious to state. "You are of course Celestia, the sole remaining Princess of Equestria. We were all very upset to hear of your sister's fate, of course."

Celestia's breath halted invisibly, but she willed her lungs back to their normal business. "Yes," she said. She selected her words carefully and deliberately. "But it has been nearly a millennium since, and Equestria continues without her."

Zhuyin's grin faded at Celestia's nonreaction. "Well," she said, glancing over to Fucang, whose inattention betrayed his boredom, "I suppose we'd better get to business, then."

"Yes, please," boomed Fucang, returning to the conversation. "We did not summon the princess for idle chatter."

Zhuyin narrowed her eyes at his remark, but whatever she was thinking remained unsaid.

Celestia waited.

Fucang inhaled deeply and said, "Equestria must relinquish the Sun."

Despite her discipline, Celestia allowed her surprise to escape. "I beg your pardon?"

"The Sun!" rasped Zhuyin. "The Moon, too. Equestria—you—must release them. We are tired of your artificial cycles, your scheduled seasons. It is not for ponies to arbitrate the dawn and dusk."

Celestia spoke, but her response dissolved under the volume of Zhuyin's vehemence. "It is an outrage, an insult to our grandeur that ponies should have sole control of our light, our darkness, and even our weather. Even our yearly migrations align to your seasons. Dragons should not have to suffer the whims of—"

Fucang cut her off with a voice that made the cave floor tremble. "We have summoned you here to discuss, as representatives of our kinds, a more equitable arrangement with regard to the day and night. Equestria has exercised unilateral control of these resources for too long. We therefore demand that you release your hold on the Sun and Moon."

"I have raised and lowered the Sun and Moon for almost a millennium," stated Celestia, after a moment's consideration. "And before that, my sister and I shared the task. Never in all that time have you summoned me to discuss this matter or any other. Why now?"

Deep laughter resounded in the cavern, from both Fucang and Zhuyin, as well as their fellows behind them. When at last their terrifying mirth left them, Fucang spoke.

"You forget that we dragons live a very, very long time. You speak as though we have endured your rule for generations, and I'm sure we have in pony terms. But even you, Celestia, are a newborn to our senses. If a colony of termites were to infect a tree in its hundredth year of life, your words would be as if one of them had said, 'Surely our presence is of no inconvenience to this tree, as we cannot a remember a time when it did not house us.'" The spectating dragons guffawed once more at this, though not as brazenly as before. "But you are right, in a way. We have taken longer than we ought have to assert ourselves. Our internal schism . . . busied us with other matters."

Celestia's interest was piqued. "Forgive me, but we in Equestria are not familiar with your politics—"

"Of course you aren't," interrupted Zhuyin. "Why should ponies concern themselves with the affairs of dragons?" She stared at Celestia as she said this, but it was clear from her irritated tone that the question was meant for Fucang.

"Suffice it to say," continued Fucang, "that the two dragon clans have feuded for longer than you could measure or understand. Until now, that is. Zhuyin and I, leaders of our respective lines, have put an end to the divide. Our lines have reunited—"

The two dragons' tails briefly flicked against each other.

"—and we must prepare for the first uncontested heir in generations."

Zhuyin scoffed. "So, little termite, will you grant our request, or will we have to negotiate?" It was clear that whatever she really meant by "negotiate" would be far less pleasant for Celestia and therefore Zhuyin's preference.

"I am sorry," said Celestia, ignoring her new nickname, "but that is impossible. The Sun and Moon would fall to chaos without my magic, threatening all of Equestria."

"Again, you forget your youth," hissed Zhuyin. "For such ephemeral creatures, you ponies are quite slow. We remember a time before your kind ever existed, much less meddled with the sky."

Fucang added, "Besides, 'chaos' is at best a histrionic description. The patterns of the world were different before ponies, but there were patterns nonetheless. We dragons studied their progression, appreciated their subtleties, and we would do so again. We only wish to return the sky to its natural state."

Celestia admitted to herself that, however untenable their proposal or unpleasant their manner, the dragons had much to offer. The most complete histories in Equestria couldn't compete with the knowledge of these wyrms, whose memories extended on an apparently cosmological scale.

"Even so," said Celestia, "Equestria's ponies rely on the night and day, however artificial. It would disrupt everything from the growth of our crops to the timing of our trains were I to abandon my duties."

Zhuyin snarled, but Fucang answered. "Of course, Princess, I'm sure you have much to consider before you can acquiesce to our request. We are sure that you value continued relations with us, and we know you would not wish to risk souring our rapport. And we are not unreasonable. We will give you a month's time to consider—we will be counting the days! I'm sure such a span must seem a very long time to a creature like yourself, long enough by far for you to arrange the proper preparations for a return to a more organic sky.

"In the meantime, I'm afraid we've kept you too long already. I'm sure you'll want to discuss what we've said here with your fellow ponies. Shall I escort you out, or do you think you can find your own way with your clever little magic?"

Celestia spread her wings as the glow of her horn intensified. "I appreciate the offer, but I can escort myself. Thank you for your hospitality." With a few great flaps of her wings, she ascended until she was eye-level with her hosts. Magical power surged within her, and she teleported back to the mouth of the cave in a flash of white.

Before the spell whisked her away, the last image she saw was that of dozens of dragons, illuminated as if by a flashbulb, surrounding and studying her like wolves about an injured foal.

Comments

[horizon]

Fucang stopped, exchanged a long glance with his fellow, then took his position beside him. There was a long silence as a crowd of serpentine eyes inspected her.

"I apologize, Princess," said the green dragon, in a low hiss, "for not being a more hospitable host. We dragons are so accustomed to the darkness, it did not occur to us that pony eyesight would not function here."

Her smile made Celestia doubt the veracity of his claim, but nonetheless she accepted her words with a solemn nod.

FYI, you've got a few pronoun goofs where Zhuyin is male instead of female. (It might also help to assign a few names or recast these sentences, so that it's easier to disambiguate Celestia and Zhuyin here.)

Interesting start to the story, though. Let's see where it goes.

[Autum Breeze]

okay, these dragons are complete and utter MORONS!

Yes, they were around when the sun and moon moved on their own, but that was BEFORE Discord. He made it so they WON'T move on their own anymore. So, it making Celestia give up the Sun and Moon, they DOOM EVERYONE!