Far across the sweep of the digital world, nestled near the Holy Mountains, the Royal City was a scant hour away from dawn. In the City proper, lanterns moved in the streets, slowly gravitating towards the palace as the glow in the East grew. The palace, too, was waking- breakfast being prepared in the kitchens, the staff waking to perform their duties, and the ever-present servants attending to them.
The Ruler of all the Digital World stood on the balcony outside of the wide windows of his bedchamber, watching the lights draw closer. Light footsteps sounded behind him, and Lucemon half turned away from the sight. "There are more every day," he observed.
"Yes, my Lord," replied Angewomon, inclining her head in respect. "Pilgrims journey here to see the one who delivered them from war. The city has been declared a holy place, as you know."
Lucemon turned back to the lights for a long few seconds, then back to Angewomon, now fully facing her. "Do you think what I did was holy? It was only what I felt was right."
It was a moment before the other angelic digimon replied. "What do you think holiness is, Sire? It was right for the fighting to stop, for the suffering to end. I'm not certain any of us would be standing here at all if you hadn't made the choice that you did. It would not be wrong for it to be called a holy thing."
"I see." A vaguely concerned expression rose in Lucemon's eyes for a moment. "You are not the first to tell me that-but I didn't know it was the popular opinion."
"Does it trouble you, my Lord?"
"It does and it does not." His bare feet made no noise on the polished marble floor as he moved to leave the chamber. Angewomon flew after him, keeping pace into the large meeting hall where Staff was held. "On one hand, it would help with those who have yet to stop their fighting in the more dubious parts of the world. They should not have to suffer because they do not know of the peace most of their brethren have discovered. On the other...a leader I can be to this world. A good one is the partner of the people, one who works with them to make something new, and hopefully better. But a god, Angewomon? Gods are remote. They deliver judgments from on high and expect their followers to follow or suffer. I would not do such a thing, but the title retains the taint."
Angewomon alighted next to him as they reached the hall. "I understand your concern, my Lord; it's not an easy thing for one 'mon to hold the world in hand. As far as I can tell, there has never been a global monarchy throughout history, so you have no real reference point. What I know is that your heart is good, and if you listen to yourself, peace will follow you."
"Nevertheless," Lucemon nodded graciously to a Veemon servent as he passed "you are my compass in these matters. Your thoughts are my thoughts- never be afraid to voice your concerns."
"Yes, Sire. Thank you."
Lucemon made turned right at a T-shaped section of hallway towards a tall dark-wooded pair of doors, guarded by a Knightmon, who saluted the angels and left his post to push open the doors. The dawn-touched sky spread out cloudless above all the way to the mountains in the distance, topped with snow, and below, a sea of stars. Lanterns shone in the lingering early morning gloom, filling the clearing before the Steps. The child-leveled ruler walked alone onto the balcony, followed by Angewomon, then the Knightmon, lingering by the door. When the throng below saw him, they burst into a frenzy of murmurs and gasps, and knelt.
"Please rise." Lucemon's voice was no louder than usual, but every digimon below heard him. They did as they were told, gazing up at the balcony. "I am glad I have your respect and your loyalty but your friendship is just as important. Some of you are here for the first time and meeting me only now. I welcome you here, and I welcome you to peace among your brothers." He glanced up at the strengthening light of the sun just inching over the horizon. His wings seemed gather the brilliance in each feather, wrapping it around his frame and making him a shining being. "As I promised you a time ago, this world is being rebuilt from the war that tore it asunder. Thanks to your cooperation with one another, the repairs have gone much more swiftly than anticipated." A warm smile touched his lips. "You should congratulate yourselves. Much can be done if we work together, as you have shown." Cheers rose up quickly to thunderous volume, and Lucemon waited patiently until they subsided. "I will be working to bring the whole of our world into agreement. Soon any digimon will be able to venture wherever in the land without fear of harm from even the fiercest of our brethren. It will be a harmonious place, a loving place. It will be your place." He was almost painfully bright to look at now, but no 'mon looked away, and he spread his hands wide. "Please go forth, and speak my words to those who might not hear them on the Network."
"Holy One!" cried out somemon below.
"Our Savior!"
"Bless us with your light!"
Lucemon paused, and glanced back at Angewomon. "They wish your blessing, Sire," she explained.
"A blessing," murmured the seemingly youthful king, more to himself it seemed, and returned his gaze to the crowd. "Very well, my friends." He closed his eyes, and the light surrounding him brightened even more so for a split second before it seemed to shatter into tiny points of light that fell down upon the crowd like star rain. A sensation of great calm seemed to breathe upon everyone present, a gentle optimism and the feeling that all the answers were close at hand. Contented murmuring broke out among the crowd, and the lanterns began to flicker out as dawn gave way to full morning. Lucemon watched them begin to disperse among the streets of the city or take to the air. Angewomon drew up to him, watching as well. "I wanted to refuse them," Lucemon told her quietly. "I could not. But they are happy."
Angewomon nodded once. "They love you very much."
The ruler was about to speak when a cry rose in the hall: "My Lord! The Skri'tamon delegation is here!" This was immediately followed by a great crash in what sounded like the banqueting hall.
"Oh..." Lucemon rose into the air, preparing to wade into the ruckus. "Gather Staff. They are a bit more early than I expected."
"Yes, Lord." Angewomon darted past him made a sharp left turn; Lucemon continued straight for the scents of breakfast, noting with dismay that the banquet hall door had been blasted open and there was a large black scorch mark on it. A Floramon, one of the cooking staff, was nearly at her wits end, wringing her leaflike hands so much Lucemon thought that she might pluck them off altogether. He gave her a reassuring smile as he passed and found the Skri'tamon delegation merrily availing themselves of the food. They were rather antlike in appearance, tall and muscular with lethal-looking antennae, sharp like stilettos on their ends. They were a variety of earthy colors, though the females of the group tended to be lighter of color and most noticeably of differing sizes. The males Lucemon could see were winged, with longer mandibles and painted with this or that design, but despite this they seemed rather uniform in body size. The eating was fierce, and astonishingly neat.
One terrified looking Blossomon scampered in with a large bowl of cloudy water. "Here you are!" he gasped in a voice rather higher than usual, and nearly tripped putting the bowl on the table, as he was trying to do it as fast as possible. The Skri'tamon all looked up at him in unison, then one took the bowl and placed it in their midst.
Lucemon choose this moment to step forward. "I see you've already taken advantage of the hospitality," he said wryly. "This place-"
One of the females turned in his direction. "You are this place's queen?" she inquired in a surprisingly musical voice, that seemed to be coming from near and far at once. "We cannot deign to speak to workers."
It was a moment, while Lucemon quickly processed what he knew about Skri'tamon. "I am," he admitted.
The female Skri'tamon rose and moved with deliberate strides to stand in front of him. A Garurumon with a royal guard crest growled low in his throat at this, but Lucemon quelled him with a hand gesture. The Skri'tamon tapped him lightly with her antennae from the top of his head to his shoulders, being careful of the sharp ends. "You are a queen? You are only a grub." She seemed to consider. "Still, you have the queenly scent." She drew herself up to her full, impressive height. "We are the Queen Skri'tamon, and we come in behalf of the Skri'tamon empire to speak with you, Grub-Queen, who stopped the war."
"I am Lucemon," the angelic digimon replied as regally as he could, not sure if the title he had been given was serious or lightly mocking. "I welcome you..." he glanced at the other members of the delegation, who had stopped eating and were watching him. "Who are your friends here?"
"We are the Queen," reiterated the female. At Lucemon's questioning look, she went on. "Ah, we see your question. The Singular Grace is many, many leagues away and cannot be moved. For the purpose of speaking with you she has chosen these ones to contain her mighty essence so that we may convene."
Lucemon followed her back to the table and sat. "Your workers are excellent foragers," remarked a male across from them, finishing a what looked like a hefty portion of food. "Very creative with plant and meat." His voice was as musical as the female's, only duskier.
Another male spoke up: "You wish to make our Empire part of your own territory, Grub-Queen?"
Lucemon was about to correct them, then thought better of it. "I do not wish to take away your rulership; I only want us to cooperate. Many smaller governments still exist in the, er, territory that I have, but they are all in agreement with me." It was then that the Staff showed up; Angewomon, along with Magnangemon, Rosemon, and a pair of the Royal Knights, Dynasmon and Rhodoknightmon. "This is my staff. They assist me in matters of the state."
"You have vessels of your essence as well." The Skri'tamon to whom he had first spoken eyed the newcomers with curiosity. "We are not so different."
"Well, they're not exactly..."
"Do you not share your mind with them? Are they not smaller representations of the queenly grace that you yourself have, and go forth with your proclamations?"
The ruler of most of the world sort of smiled. "I suppose." The Staff took seating around him, not used to such an informal gathering, but Lucemon could see they were adjusting well. "Now. As I was saying, the great majority of this world's digimon have made me their ruler. There was no way that every mon in the world could know straight away that this major change in government had happened all at once. There are some in the more unexplored lands- like yours, Queen Skri'tamon- that did not participate in the war, or do not know still that it is over. Therefore, they do not know of my plans for this world and her people."
The smallest female, the farthest down the table, met his eyes. "What is this plan?"
"Peace." Rhodoknightmon spoke up, interlacing his armored fingers and setting his chin atop them. "The greatest this world has known. Even in the quiet years there has always been fighting among us, and there were fractures between types that eventually did lead to war. But under out lord's rule, it seems that much of this has vanished. 'Tis a beauteous thing."
"I myself was a soldier in the war." Magnangemon added. "The hate I carried in my heart was a frightening thing, and I've deleted many in its course." He paused a moment, obviously having difficulty. "But that time is over. I've opened myself to the knowledge that we can stop being types and just be digimon. Lord Lucemon has helped me with that."
The collective faces of Queen Skri'tamon looked thoughtful. "Indeed a queenly power, to quell the natural instincts of war in digimon."
Lucemon shook his head. "Such a thing cannot be natural."
"Grub-Queen," smiled the Skri'tamon, "you carry the marks of both your names. Like the grub you are, you do not always see what is there. Digimon have claws and fangs and sword. In his heart of hearts even the softest looking 'mon longs to drink the data of another in a heated moment. We are imperfect. There are forever things to squabble over, therefore there is fighting. Either you must provide enough food, water, and space for every digimon that will ever live, or you must expect the stinger of violence to lodge in your gut."
The ruler's blue eyes cooled. "I have faith in my people," he said lowly.
"Faith cannot remake the data of a mon, unless you are a god. We only say to expect these things, and not to be disappointed. We sense in you a sublime grace." She took a drink from one of the saucers, and a closer male went on. "We are a strong people, but even the warrior longs for peace. We see the merit of joining queenly power with you, but we wish time to ponder this. Permit us in your territory for a while longer, and talk with us. We wish to know more of this."
A silent nod from Lucemon. "As long as you need. Rosemon, please arrange for a room...rooms?..."
"One will be fine, Grub-Queen."
"...A room then, for our guests."
"Sire." Rosemon bowed and departed.
Queen Skri'tamon pointed imperiously at the Floramon, who had managed to calm down some, but quickly went a-tremble again. "Food worker! Continue to provide our vessels with food and drink!"
Lucemon watched the Floramon worriedly as she scrabbled for the kitchen. "Please don't terrify the, erm, workers. They aren't used to being ordered like that."
"If they obey they have nothing to fear." One of the Skri'tamon bit into a fruity something. "Ahh! Sugar! Most pleasing!"
Angewomon smiled at her king. "Always the diplomat, Lord."
"I try."
"If they're a warrior people, then I should like to spar them sometime." Dynasmon spoke for the first time. "A knight's skill should always be sharp, Sire."
"You may, and you too, Rhodoknightmon. Angewomon, could you make sure my address today hits the feed of the Net about noon? I will be in my chambers."
"What about the Skri'tamon, Sire?"
Lucemon drifted upwards. "I think they'll be fine, my dear. If they wish to talk to me again, send them up."
"Yes, Lord."
When he was gone, Queen Skri'tamon's collective stare fell on Angewomon. "We have troubled your Grub-Queen with our words."
Angewoman glanced after him. "Maybe. He dearly wishes for peace, and you reminded him that it is a very hard road after centuries of fighting amongst ourselves."
"Peace can be achieved, if he could live long enough to breed it out of all of the workers. Thousands of years of peace, and peace will be all that is known. That is why there is war- nothing lasts." Queen Skri'tamon's musical voice was almost casual. "No queen can live long enough. But there is much in the Grub-Queen to be admired. We think he might do it."