A good day is something you wake up to, and can enjoy from beginning to end with little bother. Most, without problem, can have a good day – not too many disturbances, or pains that could disrupt their routine.

Most.

There are few who could have quite a bit more on their plate, and thus, the chances of having a good day – or at least, an enjoyable one, diminish by the complexity of their job.

Princess Celestia, as regal as that title may be, was in fact, not having a good day. For the aforementioned reasons; there was simply too much on one pony’s plate to sit down, and finish in a timely, or reasonably unstressed, manner.

Now, you may think of the lengthy definition provided could potentially mean that all of Celestia’s day had the high probability of turning out not for the best. And one could also be led to believe that there was a chance of having a good day, instead of the opposite of such an occurrence.

You would be entirely incorrect. For Princess Celestia, her duties were immense. If it’s not raising the sun – which she has to do daily, mind you; it’s running a nation full of, well, quite potentially, a not so well informed upper class of idiot nobles.

Nobles is a big word to define them. That would imply a heritage of respectable origins. Nobles of Canterlot, her Capital, were at the very least respectable in appearance. Though this doesn’t extend to much else beyond that.

In other words, they were snobs. The vast majority, if not nearly all of them were. In fact, if Celestia had some form of hands or claws, that might include digits, she would fail to raise more than ten of said digits with names of intelligent, or socially developed nobles.

Instead, she had feathery wings, garnished with thousands of well maintained, pristine feathers. Each of which she could place the name of a greedy pony on, and pluck away if she chose. But, alas, she liked having feathers. And putting names to each of them, and giving them an unceremonious execution, would leave her with little more than bald chicken wings. Which were most unbefitting of one of her stature.

But enough of this drudgery. The Princess in question adjusts her crown, the royal regalia on her hooves, and stands up from her throne.

In a pristine, refined, and well practiced voice – she called to the guard.

“And I believe that Day Court is adjourned.”

Oh, she forgot something unimportant, it seems.

“Oh dear, Princess Celestia, it seems you’ve missed a crucial element!” Called a snobby voice, well agitated as the stallion stood in front of her throne. His top hat tilted to the side in minor frustration, and his monocle fogged as he gave a glare.

Celestia pondered. She had seen plenty of grumpy nobles wear monocles before – did any of them even see the need for it? It appeared more of a fashion statement than anything.

“Oh, and that being?” She said, gazing to the line of ponies waiting across the distant hall – just past the red carpet, great oaken doors segregated by two golden clad pegasi.

“The fact that I was still speaking! My complaint with the council’s decision on my fence still stands – it stands five hooves tall, upon a five hoof wall! This isn’t against building code, Princess!” He sparked. Celestia attempted to prevent herself from rolling her eyes, relaxing back into the chair. She leaned partially to her side, raising a forehoof to her cheek in idle contemplation.

“I’m afraid that around seventy years ago, a similar situation like this sprung up – and it was deemed against regulation then, and I will deem it against regulation now. Appeal to the council and they may allow the construction of a seven hoof wall, if your neighbors are this intrusive.”

“But they are, Princess! They spent four days in that blasted house last month – four! As if it were some kind of summer home! And they were very nosy – they requested, neigh, demanded to borrow a cup of sugar!” He thrust his hoof defensively against the carpet, the clack of his horseshoe heard through the notably worn red runner.

Sigh.

“You know, Sir Silverbit, when I open my day court, I have the intention of helping my subjects with any issue deemed worthy of my attention. While I may be a Princess – what you’re requesting is something more along the lines of a council issue. If I wanted to admonish said council, I would have to write an edict – a lengthy one, between the ranges of twelve pages to thirty four, over the supposed integrity of luxury fencing.

“Are you saying that, this workload you’re requesting isn’t just required; but of dire enough consequence that I must be held responsible for it?” She wanted to glare at him. She really did; but for this moment, she refrained. Some restraint must be held. At least, for this moment. Many more moments would be had.

In situations like these, Celestia was less like a tall princess pony, and more like a cat. Preparing to pounce on her prey, if only to gently swat at it before letting it run off to the bushes.

Silverbit fumbled as his top hat tilted a little further. Another smidge or two to the left, and it may suffer the fate of tumbling freely to the floor.

“Well, you see… er…”

“I see what? If you’d like, I could give a detailed explanation as to what I see before me,” Her voice carried, a bit too much for her liking. But some nobles needed to be hoof fed lessons. “I see a decrepit old colt stumbling about with the lack of a cane, angry that his once prestigious neighborhood lost value after an incident beyond the scope of my control. Leaving half of his neighbors without homes, and the other half thankful to be spared. And I see this colt, glowering at me in both fear and anger as he realizes that his new neighbors asked a simple favor. One of which I’m sure completely drained whatever coffers you had available, I wager; a cup of sugar? Might as well ask for your wallet, too, hmm?

“And now, he’s upset that he can’t block them out of his life. For the few short days they spend there, for whatever reason they may have for doing so. Is that accurate, or am I forgetting something?” You would think being able to drudge up such bile would bring a smile to her face. It was against her nature, to be entirely honest – she adored her subjects, all of them, like a mother would her children. But even as such, children needed to be reprimanded.

She nodded to the golden clad unicorn to the left, his gray coat hidden well beneath his armor. Without so much as a turn of the head or a word, he stepped forward; magic tugging the collar of her esteemed guest as he was led out.

“Do send Inkhorn my regards, on the council, when you get the chance.” Celestia called after him, the horn on her head flaring a light gold. She plucked a teacup from her nearby saucer, bringing it to her muzzle to down it in one fell swoop.

It was cold. Of course. And a bit sour. Perhaps a bit too much lemon. She could hardly taste the honey behind it. She might have fumbled with the creation, after such a bland day. And her timing was just off to drink it. Day court left much to be expected, and she often found that her tea would grow cold before she finished it.

As the doors began to close, a pony called out to the Princess from just beyond.

“Princess Celestia, wait! I have an important letter!” The mare called out, another guard’s body holding stern to prevent her entry.

“Halt.” She called to the door, the two guard’s horns – once shimmering – falling to silence. “Please, let her in.”

Celestia’s voice had restrained back to its usual calm elegance. A touch of warmth behind her words, she would note – it always helped ease the wary travelers, if she spoke with an air of kindness.

The mare dashed in, her small satchel bobbing on her side. She had a soft blue coat, accompanied with a set of lavender eyes and a white mane. She seemed sweet enough. A young age, too – possibly just reaching adulthood. The Princess couldn’t see her cutiemark from here, that little symbol that gave tribute to a pony’s special talent.

She stopped just short of the throne, a bit weary of the remaining unicorn guard – the other walking calmly back to his post on Celestia’s free side. They both turned to face her, stony eyed and unmoving.

“I uh, I was given this. By a strange creature. From another world.”

Celestia’s eye twitched, but her royal mask remained unphased otherwise. The mare withdrew a large letter – it bore a foreign seal on it, and made of a sharper paper she hadn’t seen before. Probably. More rough, at least.

Her magic levitated the letter to her nose, and she took in the seal.

Odd. Foreign indeed, but could this even be alien? The wax on it was the simple color of red, with the mark of twin wings engrossing a gnarled, but straight and well built staff. There at the top rest a piercing jewel. What any of it meant, she wasn’t sure, but the Princess gave it enough thought before breaking the wax.

Her magic withdrew a letter. Formal, straight edged, in a sharp handwriting. Bold, it deemed respect, she wagered.

The text, after a moment of examining, was in a different language. In fact, there were a dozen different languages across it – as if trying to go for the broadest sense of contact one could muster, though not a single one meant anything to her.

Her horn gleamed brighter in the afternoon sun, and with a twist of ethereal light, the parchment shimmered and the text was revealed.

She read the next lines quietly to herself.

“Greetings, to the Ruler of this Land.

“I am King Leotoln, of the Far Ridges of Erenorn. I come bearing well wishes, if at all else this message may be understood as such. I am writing this letter as an outstretching of peace, a lesson in our world, and a request.

“My World – Erenorn – is losing its light. Its heart. And my people’s numbers dwindle to the hundreds by the day. A great cleansing occurred – a powerful strike of the heavens has obliterated the very soul of our world, and left only a few sparse lives left on this hellish landscape that was once fruiting.

“I write this letter as an outreach to you, in good hopes that you may accept a request of mine. My people are divided in to two groups; the Inert, and the Ascended. And as such, these groups do not bare love for each other. The Inert are the same as our kind – lacking wings, lacking magic, and unable to prosper. The Ascended are those who haves wings, magic, or both. To put it bluntly, several hundred ascended remain, and are going to find home in a new world. Though not your own – as we have already found shelter on a distant moon, with plentiful bounty.

“The Inert, though, is one I must request of. Of all that perished, only one remains. The Inert are – or once were – the lowest class among us. And as such, are not regarded of essential by all that remain. His name is Arin.

“I am a kind King. And I know of the torment he will face if left to stew in his fate, as the last of a dead race. I write to you, personally, as I have met a being of your world, ages ago before my rightful reign. A gallant creature, with a beautiful scarlet mane. She seemed to be a deity of sorts, of your world.

“I ask that you accept this Inert into your bossom. As there may be no other safe alternative for him. Our people face many trials beyond my mind’s eye.

“He is strong. He may not have a direct strength, but he has knowledge. He is young, as well – thirty years, as I have learned, and he has many left before him. As he is related by the blood of Ascended, it is likely he will see three hundred or more.

“If you can not accept him, tear this letter to shreds, and burn it to ashes. He will be transported as the moon falls on your world, to wherever this letter may lay. If it lay, that is.

“I hope you can decipher this quickly. There should be no language barrier, only a written one. Eternal thanks upon your name, whatever that may be, as you have eased my torn heart in these trying times.

“King Leotoln, of Erenorn.”

Princess Celestia blinked. The letter repeated itself several times, with slight mistranslations. No spell is perfect – the variance in languages led to failures, after all, along with a writer’s lack of depth in the subject. The handwriting changed twice as the letter progressed – indicating a change of hooves.

Hooves? Would this creature have hooves? A possibility. Not likely. Alien creatures often lack the same appendages as her subjects. Not to say that they were common – except perhaps that strange creature residing in Ponyville, the one Twilight accidentally conjured. With the green mask, and the question mark for a face. Anon, was it?…

Regardless, this new creature would have to be put under careful watch. A guard or two – however unlikely to fend off any real threats – could prove useful. But another part of the letter caught her eye, one beyond the ‘Inert’; a mare with a scarlet mane. She had a vague feeling she knew this pony, if only in the most distant and ageless of aspects.

She would have to turn to – regrettably – the library to solve this conundrum. If she deemed that this matter was worth regarding at all. She had low hopes for a change in her daily routine; if anything, this could lead to simply having a strange beast that ate her food and demanded items of luxury from the already tight crown budget.

But, perhaps further questioning could help resolve this matter.

“Excuse me, Miss…?” Celestia said, tilting her eyes up from the letter. Her mirth was still present, if only a bit more distant.

“Miss Blueberry, your majesty.” The mare kneeled, respectfully of course.

“Well Miss Blueberry, this is a… peculiar letter, you’ve brought me.” The Princess said, turning it over in her golden magic. As if expecting more. “Would you mind explaining where you came upon this?”

Blueberry nodded, adjusting herself to sit down in front of her ruler. “I was tending to my garden on the south side of Canterlot – this morning, in fact – when a portal opened in front of me. I nearly fell back into my berry bushes! Three strange creatures stepped out, they stood on their hindlegs like minotaurs, but they didn’t have hooves. Two of them wore armor, like the guards – only silver! And the one who didn’t looked overly dressed. He had wings on his back, but no horn or anything. At least, I don’t think he should have had a horn.

“He saw me, quickly approached – trampling my strawberry bush – and hoofed me this letter. He said it was for the ruler of my land; he looked official, too. I asked him why he couldn’t give it to you himself, and he said that he had no time to do it. He explained that it was of the highest importance that my ruler read this immediately, and he gave me this for payment.”

She turned her head to her satchel, digging in with her teeth and withdrawing a thin silvery bar. It had a foreign script across the surface, and was definitely heavy. It gleamed brightly in the sunlight. From her eyes, it looked like solid platinum. A very valuable ore, even in a world rich with gold such as hers. A bar of that size could probably afford a luxurious vacation.

“I… see.” The Princess said, idly folding the letter. “Is there anything else to note?”

“Well, they came armed. The two guards looked a little confused, or… surprised to see me. The unarmored one had small eyes, and a small mouth… they all had long legs, they were almost as tall as you, if not taller. All three of them stepped through the same portal, and left through it when they were finished. I thought I was dreaming. It was… crazy, that this could happen to me. I didn’t understand it, and I simply sat in my garden for ten minutes, that letter in my hoof and this bar on the floor in front of me.”

Celestia tucked the letter under her wing. She could feel the hint of magic within it – she even noticed runes at the bottom, foreign runes. Probably a teleportation spell of sorts, as written.

She would bring it under closer scrutiny of both her, her mages, and possibly her student before deciding to burn it or not. For now, her attention settled fully on Blueberry.

“Miss Blueberry, if you desire, please follow my escort here to the treasury. Have a secretary appraise your ingot, and make an exchange for bits so that you may enjoy your reward freely, without worry of being haggled out of your earnings. Take this letter for the secretary,” A quick scribble of parchment indicated further instructions for her staff’s part, “This same escort will lead you home, so that he may report your location if I feel the need to contact you further, and so that I may send a mage to check for any residual portal magic that remains in your garden. You are excused.” She gave a warm nod, a hint of a smile to not worry the poor mare, as she was led from the court.

Celestia laid back in her throne. A good day is something you wake up to, and can enjoy from beginning to end with little bother. Most, without problem, can have a good day – not too many disturbances, or pains that could disrupt their routine.

Celestia decided that today, of all days, was not a good day at all. Her heavy plate had now tipped the table over, spilling the contents into her lap. And just as it seemed to end, the chefs brought in a fresh platter, pouring it over her head.

One might even say it were a bit overwhelming.

Author's Notes:

Heya! If you're reading this, thank you for stopping by. This story is complete, and all 40 chapters are waiting to be published - I've gone through several rounds of proof reading to assure a consistent quality across the board. I tried to keep each chapter around 3,000 words or so, and I've written the majority of this over the course of two weeks.

This is my second excursion into writing properly, instead of half baked fanfics from years ago, unfinished and untouched. I don't think every plot element is perfect, but I tried to tie everything together as best as I could. As always and for all stories, please feel free to leave a comment on what I can improve. Thank you for your time! <3