Hot sands and ever-present desert heat was but a familiar territory for those that were born, lived and died out in Haygypt. And with it? The slow, ever so graceful cycle of the bright blessed day to guide those along the path to their way; soon to be followed by the dark, sacred night which ignite the skies above in a beautiful hue of dark blue melded in with the mysterious stars. Little to no one knew much about the Haygyptian Empire; save for it’s bloody history, the gruesome ideas of slavery and servitude, and it’s long bloodline of various rulers - those amongst the sand that are forgotten not; etched into the stone tablets to be forever remembered. There were many names that struck fear into the hearts of those in this country: Phetlock, Truot, among a countless collection of others just like them - willing to wage war and keep their image of a brutal country alight for all to see and forcibly kneel before. Yes, this was the image of the Haygypt Empire - Proud. Practical. Prejudiced.
Cayro, perched by the riverside of the Neighle. This was but the capital city of the Empire itself. For many years, it brought violence. For many years, it would loom as a threat to the many kingdoms around the world. A impenetrable town built of the strongest sandstone, thriving with a lively culture on the inside. It’s doors shut to the outside world, never to be known of discovered to only but the neighboring countries around. ...That was, until now.
“My liege..! My liege!” Shouted a striped vizier, scrambling through the torch lit halls; scrolls in hooves. His destination was to that of the elected leader himself - the morning hours were but a panic for someone like this Zebrican. Stopping to catch his breath along a double doorway, those pearls would peer into the darkness within.
“Pharaoh, I-”
“Peace, Vizier Zh’are..” A gentle voice cooed from within. “..I could hear you shouting all the way from my room, you know. You sound tense, you look tense even.”
“..There is a good reason for this, Pharaoh.” Zh’ar pants, nearly coughing up a lung from how quickly he’d have ran. “We’ve got a message..It’s of dignitaries. Not of our empire, but..”
“..But? Are they Roaman? Neighsian?”
“No..Equestrian.”
“..!!” Almost a few seconds later, a shining thin figure had made it’s way towards the dimly lit light. The source of the voice belonged to that of a golden feathered griffon, blended with but the holiest colors of white. And along his body was but the garb he’d worn day in and day out - the familiar three pieces. A strange new armor, much unlike the robes of before.The first is but a rustic, light dyed chest piece that extends over the shoulders, wrapping around the neck - with a symbol in the shape of an ankh. Second - a pure silken shendyt; wrapped around the lower half of the griffon, weaved with stitches of blue. And third, four sturdy gold foreleg and hind leg guards. All complete with a shining sapphire scarab necklace. “..Is that right, Vizier?”
“Y-Yes, my liege..”
Claws trailed against the chin; muddling in thought. It was very unlikely that a kingdom as this would barely get any visitors - but ones of the strange western lands? No less ones that idealized those morals of ‘Friendship’? This was curious. What exactly did they want?
“Come, talk with me. I’ve had my morning bath, my meals and my meditation for the hours.” Motioning for the similar silk-clad vizier to follow; the situation was laid out before them both - A message had recently come from the strange coast beyond to talk ‘terms of peace’ and perhaps even an opportunity ‘to open a trading route’, alongside that. With this new thought in mind; it brought excitement, but also paranoia. In the bloodied past, Haygypt had been set upon by betrayal time and time again; and with it? It’s fierce reputation had grown stronger.
Just a short trot away was but the throne room - decored in the finest, brightest colors of their country. Silk tapestries fell from their pillars only to reach just shy of the floor, and between them? The royal Zebrican guards clad in their armor; stoic, at attention as their leader pawed upon the red carpeting sprawled across the floor.
“Have you come to a decision, s-sire..?”
The beak opened for a brief moment, and with it - a gentle order: “I have. Tell them that we are willing to talk out these terms at their leisure. Instruct them to meet here as their own pace. But also make sure to warn them of the harshness of the land.”
Zh’are almost looked stunned. Was this really what he was hearing? Cayro to open the gates? “Sire Cloudhop, a-are you certain?” The vizier asked, his ears flatten down. “You know what has become of this city in the past..”
A quiet sigh escaped the griffon, whom was circling around to lay comfortably atop a sky blue pillow. “This I am aware of, Zh’are. But..You know as well as I do we cannot sustain ourselves forever..” He paused, looking towards him with but shining emerald green eyes - tattooed with jet black wadjets. “This is but an opportunity to bring this kingdom into a new light. One free of bloodshed, even. I am certain, Vizier. Now..You know what to do, yes.”
The zebra nods, quietly sighing. “..Of course.”
“Zh’are?”
“Hm?”
The griffon only smiles, and pat him on the shoulder. “..You are a treasure to this kingdom. Do not forget that, yes? Now off you go..”
Off went the Zebra to reply swiftly in message to the unknown travelers; looking a bit relieved. The lightness in this griffon’s heart was but a welcoming sign..But also one of great foolishness. Meanwhile, Cloudhop sat atop his pillow - exhaling, clicking his tongue.
‘..This kingdom does need outside contact. Salvation, maybe. But I know I must exercise extreme caution. Deception and deceit has happened many times in the past..But perhaps not all of the world is full of turncoats? We will see.’
