If you are reading this chapter, please take a sanity check now.
The creature that entered Celestia's great hall most closely resembled a velociraptor. Its body was yellow, but had an unusual chemical sheen that gave it the appearance of illness. Its massive, leathery wings were tattered and sinewy, veins protruding from the skin in grotesque patterns. Worst of all, however, was the thing's disfigured crocodilian head and mask-like expression of absolute indifference.
The reptilian emissary plodded forward on two muscular, taloned hind legs in deliberate, purposeful movements, as if the inner workings of the creature's muscles and bones were not quite in tune with its own mind. Its eyes swiveled around the room independently of one another, casting looks at the various frightened and bewildered ponies one at a time, absorbing each and storing them away in its memory for later.
It clutched in its claws a plain leather-bound book, which the beast held to its chest. When it reached Celestia's throne, it swung its body low to the ground in a single jerking, aggressive movement. This elicited brief cries from a few of the worried observers, and Bucephalus stuttered in place as he fought the urge to confront the thing and its weird mannerisms. It remained there for a few seconds, then dropped the book unceremoniously on the dais of Celestia's throne. Just as abruptly as it had assumed its position, the creature rose and retreated backwards several steps in a manner that implied the book had a lit fuse and was about to explode.
Celestia stared, mouth agape, at the lizard now standing awkwardly before all of Equestria's most important political personalities. She had met dragons before on numerous occasions, as it was not unusual for them to stray into the borders of Equestria. They tended to like the temperate and predictable climate, the clear rivers, and above all else the limited dragon populations. However, the inner reaches of Azathoth, the sovereign nation of the dragons, was yet untraversed territory to Celestia and many ponies. There, the sentient creatures were bitter, powerful, and competitive, and would gobble up anything that wandered into their domain. There were no maps of the land, and many beasts from the region were completely uncatalogued. This, which she assumed was some rare species of dragon, was one of such unfamiliarities.
The creature, sensing that its offering alone did not seem to be enough, bowed again to the ground with the same jerking and unpleasant manner. "Nyarlathotep sends his regards," it said.
It's voice had the quality of sand paper, as if more suited to guttural languages, and it possessed a peculiar but unplaced accent. "I have presented a gift," the thing hissed, "It is poetry from the great one. The subject is of arcane knowledge."
Prime Minister Cecil lifted the book from the ground with magical forces. "Shall I place it with the other gifts, Princess?" he asked.
"Please," Celestia confirmed, her eyes not leaving the tattered yellow figure.
"I was not aware that dragons wrote poetry," Incitatus quipped from the crowd. "I know some are quite emotional, but some breeds are basically just like clever insects, with no desires beyond eating and reproduction."
The lizard blinked one eye, then the next out of unison. "Poetry is easy to remember," garbled the thing, simply. It had been holding the same position low to the ground without fault for at least a minute now. "Do you not wish to inspect the gift?"
Celestia did her best to smile sweetly. "I have numerous gifts still to receive and inspect. If we are to be done before the late afternoon with official business, then I'll have to examine them all later."
"This is good," said the creature with a dissolving trace of accent, "Then now, the great one has demands."
In that one couplet, Celestia found herself astonished to hear the being's speech melt into a perfect resemblance of Canterlot's usual phonemes. It was as if the creature had just been feigning its dialect all along and had suddenly resumed the comfortable verbal nuances of its birth land. It was not often that Celestia found herself off-footed, but this diplomat was not at all what she expected. From dragons, she anticipated a great deal of pride and personal honor. They were jealous things, and they conducted themselves with the utmost focus on posterity, which made them quite easy to flatter and beguile at times. This, however – she didn't even know what this was.
The nerve, too, of presuming to make demands of Celestia in her own court after such a display. Surely Nyarlathotep knew better than this! The important thing at this moment, Celestia decided, was to remain in control of the situation. She was not sure how to deal with this creature, but she could still certainly run her own court, and if nothing less she could buy herself time to regain composure. Among all things, she desired to make her job look easy, and such would not be the case if she found herself stumbling over a confusing foreign representative.
"I'm sorry," Celestia said, gesturing to the line of wide-eyed, gift-bearing ponies in front of her throne, "But in my court it is customary for diplomats to wait patiently until I have addressed them directly. If you would kindly find a place behind them, I will listen to your requests in turn."
The lizard rose again to a standing position and, without a word, stalked its way to the back of the queue. It took its place behind a bright blue earth pony, who cringed and whimpered a bit about her new neighbor. The court held its breath for a time, but finding no further distractions, all members eventually descended into low conversation about their offensive new guest. Celestia addressed the next pony in line, who happened to be a lobbyist pushing for Celestia to legally mandate the growth and subsidization of apples and apple farms throughout all of Equestria. It was a perfectly good idea, he had insisted, and there were already orchards being grown in the badlands with no problem, so there wasn't any need for the energy-efficient crops naysayers believed thrived more easily. Just think of all the horsepower that will be saved by not transporting apples across long distances!
From the back of the line, the dragon peeked its head out over the crowds and ogled the ponies. Its eyes wobbled around wildly, the thing trying to see and hear everything at once. After a while of this, some ponies began to poke fun at the dragon. It looked like a big, stupid chicken, staring in confusion at something it was trying desperately to understand. That it walked on two legs like a chicken was no help to its image. A few ponies speculated that its wings were probably useless, and in fact maybe it wasn't a diplomat from Azathoth at all. Maybe it was just the real diplomat's lost farm animal running amok about the capital while the real Viscount Hastur found himself detained by an accident somewhere. Then somebody asked what a dragon who ate creatures like this one must look like, assuming one were to arrive, and suddenly it wasn't funny anymore. Another rather clever pony noted that, based on the defensive spines protruding from this diplomat's body, there probably were things in Azathoth that would devour something the size of Hastur whole, and then it was even less funny.
No other ponies dared to stand in line behind the sickly looking monstrosity, and so the day dragged along from diplomat to diplomat, each presenting Celestia a difficult choice between satisfying the people or running the country effectively, until at last all that remained was Hastur himself. When his turn finally came, he approached with none of the awkward or unusual movements he had displayed on his arrival. He bowed, politely, at a proper pace, as if he had been rigorously practicing the etiquette for hours.
Celestia pursed her lips. She didn't know what to make of this swift and complete change in her guest. It seemed recalcitrant in some ways, like Hastur had been mocking her all along to see how much he might get away with. She supposed the dragon could have simply figured out how to perform this gesture respectfully just by watching, but by the relative smoothness on this event compared to the last, it implied that Hastur was certainly a bit smarter than a lost farm animal.
"Lady Celestia," it said in perfect Equestrian, though its voice was still low and raspy.
Celestia tipped her head towards the beast, motioning for him to continue.
Hastur rose again, polite not to engage direct eye contact as he did so. "I am Lord Viscount Hastur of Carcosa, representative of our capital of Azathoth, Kadath, and of my master, King Nyarlathotep. I come requesting the audience of the Sun Goddess."
In front of everyone, Celestia felt it was not in her best interest to express incredulity or even surprise at this total transformation in behavior. To maintain the illusion of absolute knowledge, that was the key. "You have my attentions, Lord Hastur," she replied, as if she were speaking to one no different than the mundane aristocrats that came before him.
As one strange quirk he seemed to maintain, Hastur appeared to have a habit of standing perfectly still while he spoke, and he stared off in the distance as he did so, like he was thinking about something else entirely. "A foolish upstart, Duke Nodens of Sarkomand, has made himself an enemy to the rule of Nyarlathotep, and therefore the whole of Azathoth," he said.
It didn't help things much for Celestia that she had no idea where Carcosa, Sarkomand, or even the dragon's capital of Kadath was in relation to Equestria. Still, she waited patiently to hear the rest.
"Nodens is very powerful and knows much in the way of magics." Hastur rasped, "Though weaker than Lord Nyarlathotep, our king cannot be in all places at once, and many of our kin fear Nodens' allies. Hence, we seek the aid of Equestria, which does not know Nodens' allies and thus does not dread them so."
"You want us to go to war?" Celestia demanded, aghast. This day was becoming a thorough outrage.
"If Lady Celestia pleases it, we will be most appreciative," said Hastur. His tone matched his placid and inflexible expression. "But we only hope for what assistance you can provide. Your pegassi that control the weather would be a valuable asset to us, and we are sure that knowing we can call on your land to raise or lower the sun at will might surely be desirable. We also know your magics are different from ours, and we seek to exchange knowledge."
All else seemed of little profit to Equestria, but Celestia hesitated at the offer of information. Though they had nothing to gain from fighting a battle they had no stakes in, countless scholars and adventurous young ponies had begged for sanctioned forays into the country of Azathoth. The siren call of a new land was powerful, as were the rumors that the area was hopelessly rich in precious gemstones. Still, though, there seemed to be a catch. Unless there were one, the only motive Nyarlathotep had for believing Equestria would help him was arrogance.
"Why does Nyarlathotep think we should partake in his conflict?" Celestia asked. It was best to get this part over with, she thought.
"Because," Hastur replied, "If we are driven from Kadath, we will be forced to move northward, into Equestrian territory."
Ah, and there it was, Celestia resigned. Do what we want or we'll invade you. She hadn't been disappointed after all. Even if this Hastur was a bit strange, dragons are still jealous, prideful creatures prone to underestimating anything smaller than them. She looked at her general, who was observing this meeting with apprehension. She could tell from the pleading look in Bucephalus's eyes that he was eager to step in and take control. No doubt he had thoughts about taking Equestria to war, but what thoughts they were Celestia wasn't certain. She was sure, however, that their standing army would not be sufficient to combat anything as large and as magically formidable as organized dragons.
"We know that there are few precious minerals in Equestria, but our kin will need to eat," Hastur said. "Even if Nyarlathotep ceases to rule and his parliament falls to ruin, his subjects will still be starving and driven by hunger. Our most fortunate scenario is that the great one maintains cohesion of the dragons if they are driven from the capital. Otherwise, there will be no accounting for the actions of individuals."
The court began to bustle as a wave of fear swept over Celestia's subjects. If dragons began making large scale incursions into Equestria, organized or not, then life as the ponies knew it was likely to collapse. It was bad enough when just one dragon moved in to a nearby mountain and kept to itself; the air pollution was a nuisance among other things, and often they played havoc on the nerves of the local wildlife, but the thought of a starving mating pair taking residence anywhere near a pony civilization was just too much to think about for those living near the southern border!
What started as a bustle drew to a crescendo as ponies raised their voices to talk over one another. Those diplomats from similar regions drew together and began to lament their fates. How would they protect their cities? What about crops and food? There was just no way anybody was going to be able to grow apples in an inhospitable environment with dragons flying around, setting everything on fire! Even Prime Minister Cecil had to admit that he was probably going to see a lot fewer jam varieties in the future if Dragons developed a habit of snatching them out of the sky in transit to Canterlot, and Cecil was still trying very hard to be thoughtful about the future without being too gloomy.
Celestia rose from her seat, and the excitement died down. "We will do our best," Celestia rang out, her person radiating confidence, "to see a swift and beneficial resolution to this conflict!"
A few ponies exchanged worried glances. Bucephalus forced himself not to rear up in the air and announce a call to arms right then and there. If there was to be war it would be on his terms, and there was much to talk about at this moment.
Celestia's voice fell to a normal speaking volume. "For now, Lord Hastur, I need to discuss this situation in detail with my advisers. We will provide you with lodgings, and I trust you are capable of keeping Lord Nyarlathotep updated."
Hastur gave no affirmation or even any indication that he was paying her his undivided attention. Rather, his eyes were on the swivel again, darting about the courtroom from pony to pony. Celestia was almost disgusted. However, she had never taken Nyarlathotep for a fool during any point in her reign, and was not about to dismiss Hastur's appearance as a sign of incompetence. It was a very old trick indeed to behave like an idiot to hide ulterior motives. A typical con might show up, acting like he didn't know his head from tail, and a pony would be sucked right into his game because they never guessed such a dimwit could secretly be stealing everything they owned. Politicians played this game all the time as well, and Celestia was certain there were cards here that she couldn't yet see.
Of course, Nyarlathotep was not the only royalty who was capable of hiding his intentions with an apparent blind of stupidity.
"Incitatus!" Celestia, summoned.
Incitatus came bounding to Celestia's throne, grinning and gazing out to the crowd to make sure everybody noticed he was being called forward during such an important crisis. He pulled his muzzle in close to Celestia's ear. "Mistress," he hissed, "I am flattered that you should call on me, but I really know next to nothing about warfare."
"Incitatus," Celestia whispered back, "I want you to take our guest and keep him entertained. Take him drinking. Learn whatever you can about him."
Incitatus seemed pleased to be asked to act in his element as an order. "As you wish, my goddess," he said.
He pecked Celestia on the cheek, then turned and trotted to Hastur, whose eyes were still spinning around the room. It gave him the look of a googly-eyed muppet to Incitatus. "Please, with me, Lord Hastur," Incitatus sang.
He led the dragon to the double doors and shoved them aside. "You know," Incitatus began, "I think it must be terrible to be a shade of yellow like yours. Not many colors go with yellow, but I'm sure we could think of something. How do you feel about purple?"
Still in the courtroom, Bucephalus, dumbfounded and mouth slightly ajar, wore the longest look on his face possible for a horse to make.
