//------------------------------// // The Tomb of the King // Story: Fall of Empire // by Sixes_And_Sevens //------------------------------// Shrieks of joy echoed through the crystal halls, the clatter of hooves filling the air. The youngest princess, nine-year-old Flurry Heart, was escaping from the ferocious, dangerous, Bathtime Beast, better known as her daddy, Shining Armor, the Commander of the Guard. “Graargh!” the white unicorn snarled through his chuckles. “You can’t run forever, princess!” Flurry flew into another fit of giggles and put on more speed, positively galloping down the corridor, her oversize wings trailing behind her like a pair of kites. “No! You can’t catch meee!” She rounded a corner at a frantic pace, hooves skittering and sliding on the smooth crystal floor. There was a percussive crash, followed by a shriek of pain. Shining pulled up short, then rushed around the corner to his daughter’s aid. Had something crushed a wing? Snapped her horn? Would she ever walk again? A pair of sad blue eyes looked up at him. “Daddy, I stubbed my hoof on this statue.” Inwardly, Shining was simultaneously panicking over the injury and rejoicing that it wasn’t any worse. Outwardly, he was the very model of calm and collected. “Oh, no! Here, Princess. Let daddy kiss it better for you.” Flurry held out a leg, and her father gently pecked it. “Better?” She pulled her leg back. “No. I hate this statue! I hate it, daddy! I want it gone!” Before Shining could say or do anything more, his daughter’s horn was glowing. A moment later, she blasted the statue, a bust of a guardsmare. Shining winced. One more precious antique destroyed in a fit of pique. Oh, well. But when the bright blast died down, the statue was still there, though it now glowed a faint blackish hue. Flurry’s mouth fell open. “Daddy, it’s still there! I want it gone, daddy. I want it to go!” Shining frowned, and lit his own horn. He tried to gently pull up on the bust. No luck. The pillar that it was on didn’t move, either. It didn’t move side to side, it wouldn’t shake loose. Was it attached to the floor? He dispelled the aura and moved closer, rising up on his hind hooves to get a better look. He pushed down on the pillar, and suddenly, it gave way, descending into the crystal beneath it. A rumble shook the hall and Flurry screamed. Shining did too, as he pushed back from the pedestal and fell unceremoniously on his flanks. The light seemed to fade, the walls turning black in the process. The bust kept grinding downwards into the ground until all that was left was a hole in the floor. Father and daughter sat frozen, waiting for the other horseshoe to drop. After several moments, Shining realized that he hadn’t been breathing. “Flurry, are you alright?” “Yes, daddy.” “Thank goodness.” He turned around to embrace his daughter, but then he caught sight of something and froze. “Flurry, go and get mom. Tell her to get Aunt Twilight here. Maybe Luna and Celestia, too.” The filly tilted her head. “What? Why?” “Not important right now. Run, go, hurry! I’ll be here.” Flurry looked at him doubtfully, but trotted off to do as she was told. Shining watched her go, and then turned to the object of his fear. A rectangular section of crystal, about the size of a large door, had recessed into the wall. The join had been so smooth that it might have remained undetected for another thousand years. Into the threshold, one word was carved. SOMBRA. A few hours later, Celestia stood over that name, gazing down dispassionately at the threshold between the two crystal guards standing sentry over it. “Like a fungal rot,” she muttered. “He always keeps coming back.” A long, noodly body settled itself on her back. “Well, it’s only his name after all. I thought Princess Sparkplug and Shining Amore dealt with him pretty firmly, what with all the wife-tossing and stair-climbing. Blowing up is usually pretty final for anything that isn’t, well, me.” Discord grinned, but Celestia could see that it was forced. “Not to mention, we have his horn, don’t we?” They pulled a sharp red crystal out of the aether and casually wrapped their tongue around it like it was a lollipop. “Mm-mm, tastes like evil in a can!” “Why do we continue to wait?” Luna asked, her voice chilly with suppressed anger. “Every moment of delay is another moment that depraved despot’s plans further themselves.” “We’re waiting on Twilight and Sunset,” Celestia replied mildly. “As I told you the last seven times you suggested we attack. Their train will be another twenty minutes.” “Oh, piffle,” Discord sniffed. “Here, let me.” They reached out an arm and twisted and suddenly held a top hat. Celestia groaned and rolled her eyes. “Not this trick again,” Luna sighed. Cadence, who had just arrived, looked around in bewilderment. “What’s going on?” “Nothin’ up my sleeve,” Discord said, reaching their talon into the top hat. They pulled back, and were suddenly face-to-face with a manticore. The beast roared loud enough to shake the walls. “Hm. Wrong hat,” they said, shoving the beast back in. Then, Discord flipped the hat upside down and shook it firmly. A startled Sunset fell out, followed by Twilight, who landed on top of her with a grunt of surprise. “Behold! The Grrreat and Powerful Discord!” the draconequus crowed, throwing their arms wide. “Charming,” Celestia sighed. “Well, I suppose we're all here, now. Let’s head down.” She made to step through the door, but startled back when a pair of spears crossed in front of her. Discord chuckled. “Oh, this should be good.” Cadence stepped forward, her face grave. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked. “We are thy rulers and we are desirous of access to these chambers!” “Ooh, nice use of the Royal Intonation,” Luna murmured, nodding appreciatively. “Eight out of ten.” “Apologies, ma’am,” said the guard on the right, staring straight ahead. “We were left with orders not to allow entry until his highness had returned.” Cadence frowned. “Shiny? Why?” Twilight’s hoof met her face. “You know why,” she muttered. “He… wished to accompany the expedition,” said the other guard carefully. “I see,” said the Princess of Love, coolly. “Names and ranks, please.” “Cadence,” Celestia frowned. “Privates Olivine and Topaz, ma’am,” said the guard on the right. Cadence nodded. “Promotion to corporal. Both of you. Effective immediately, for following orders in the face of four alicorns and two dracconocci. Shiny, on the other hoof, will be sleeping on the sofa tonight for being a proud, vengeful idiot.” “Hm. I may have to revise my opinion of the fellow, since you speak of him so highly,” Discord said idly. “Speak of the devil, here he comes now.” The assembled turned to look up the hallway, where a white unicorn had just cantered into view, a green crystal mare at his side, furiously scribbling notes. “So, Jade, I would like to push the Reindeerdam delegation back by, say, five hours to give us some time to deal with this crisis.” The mare nodded. “And the delegation from Yakyakistan in three hours?” “Leave that as it is,” Shining decided. “We should have this wrapped up by then, and the Yak diplomats tend to be considerably less patient than—” “Hey, Shiny!” Twilight called, raising a hoof in greeting. His face lit up. “Twiley! I wasn’t expecting you to get here so soon.” He nodded to the mare at his side. “This is Jade Corona, our diplomatic advisor.” Cadence stepped forward, and the commander of the guard faltered. Jade glanced at the pink mare and quickly stepped away from the prince-consort, hurrying away from the brewing marital tempest. “Shining Armor, what do you think you’re doing?” The prince consort stepped back, pinking. “Uh, what do you mean, darling?” “Don’t you ‘darling’ me, Shiny,” Cadence snapped. “We’re all immortal, you aren’t. You’re staying right here, and that’s final.” “I…” Shining muttered. “In case things went sour…” Cadence raised a brow. “I wanted to be with you,” he muttered. The pink princess’s face melted into a smile. “Oh, Shiny. You’re so sweet. You still aren’t coming, and you are still in deep trouble, but you’re sweet. But I’ll be fine, my love. We all will.” Slowly, the two moved towards each other, eyes drooping, lips puckering... Suddenly Twilight frowned.“Um, guys?” Everyone glanced at her. She pointed to a piece of paper, almost perfectly preserved, attached to the wall. “I think there’s a note over there…” She trotted over. “Twily,” Shining groaned, slumping back in exasperation as the mood dissipated, “there is a time and a place for—” “It’s written in modern Equish!” she gasped. Sunset frowned. “I thought the Crystal Empire vanished at least three hundred years before that became commonplace.” she said, trotting over. “It did,” Cadance agreed with a short nod. “What does it say?” Celestia inquired, peering over her former students’ heads. “Just ‘Wait for us’.” Twilight replied. “And there’s some kind of wind instrument over here on the floor, made of plastic and some kind of ribbon, neither of which were exactly common in the Empire when it disappeared.” Cadence frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would either of—” She was cut off by the sound of galloping hooves echoing from down the stone corridor. A tan stallion came into view first, followed by an off-white unicorn. The two guards blinked, unsure of what to do, but quickly crossed their spears across the pair’s path. “Right, hi,” the Doctor said, “Guards, dismiss! This is where it gets complicated.” There was a long, awkward pause. Shining nodded. “Go.” There was a longer, more awkward pause. “What he said,” Cadence said. The guards went. Their commander scowled. “What in Tartarus is going on here?” he snapped. “You’ll wanna sit down,” said Sweetie Belle. “This is going to be a long story…”’ Much earlier… Rarity hummed faintly as she levitated first one bolt of cloth and then another, eying them critically. Teal or violet? Teal or violet? Which would work better for the base of the dress? Bonk. On the one hand, Fleur’s white coat went well with practically anything, and with her grace and poise she could make a dress made out of paper bags look good. Bonk. But she refused to rely solely on her client’s own innate talent for beauty. This dress had to make the mare look even better than she already did. Bonk. Which, considering that this was the most famous model on the face of the planet, was no easy feat. Crash! Rarity’s ears perked up. “Sweetie?” she called. “Sweetie Belle, what was that?” No reply. Rarity sighed, setting down the strips of cloth and trotting toward where she had last seen her little sister. The sewing room was neat and tidy. That alone was enough to arouse Rarity’s suspicions. “Sweetie Belle?” she called, stepping into the room. “What was that crash I just heard?” She glanced around. No signs of destruction. No sign of a guilty little sister, either. Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled open the door to her gem store. Nothing unusual there, apart from a slight depletion of rubies. More likely to be Spike than Sweetie. Next, she tried the fabric stores. Still noth— Wait. That red cloth was gone, as was the blue trim. “Oh, Sweetie,” she groaned, glancing at the row of sewing machines. As she’d feared, one had fallen to the ground, still chattering, cloth wrapped around it in a mummifying tangle. Rarity inhaled sharply and let out her breath in a long sigh. “Sweetie Belle, get out here this instant,” she said sternly. A cupboard swung to with a creak. A red rubber ball bounced out gently, and a very sheepish-looking mare looked out. “I think I might be stuck,” she admitted. Rarity sighed, but there was a smile behind it. “Hold on, darling, I’ll have you out in a jiffy.” She grabbed her sister’s hoof and pulled. Sweetie squeezed out of the claustrophobic space. In the open, it was unsurprising how the younger mare had managed to squeeze into the tiny space. Sweetie Belle had a model’s body. Her barrel was slight, her legs were thin and limber, and she could contort impossibly. Rarity could only attribute this to all the exercise her little sister had gotten as a filly. Unfortunately, modelling did not seem to be Sweetie’s destiny. Nor, indeed, did anything else. The now twenty-year-old still had yet to get her cutie mark; the last of her friends to do so. It wore on her like friction on fine silk, though she did try her best to hide it. Rarity smiled slightly. “Trying for a sewing cutie mark?” she jibed playfully. Sweetie blushed. “Well… not exactly. I just kinda… outgrew my old Crusader’s cape.” Rarity’s face fell. Ah, yes. The cruelest twist of fate against her sister. The poor dear was almost the last of her friends left in Ponyville, apart from Apple Bloom. The rest? Scattered across Equestria, studying whatever their various destinies had led them to. But there weren’t many colleges willing to take an unmarked pony at this age, no matter their social connections. Even Twilight hadn’t been able to budge them. And now, the poor dear really was more alone than ever she had been, adrift and lost on a— “Rarity?” The elder unicorn blinked. Her younger sister was staring at her oddly. “You kinda drifted off, there.” “Did I? So sorry. You were saying?” “I was just asking when mom and dad would be back from their holiday,” Sweetie said. “I mean, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen them— not that I don’t like staying with you,” she added hurriedly. “You and Spike…” Rarity chewed her lip. Their parents had been touring the globe for a rather… lengthy period, and while Sweetie was quite old enough to stay in their house while they were away, it had been decided that that would result in either three daily meals of takeout or a pile of ashes with an address. “They’re in the Crystal Empire, currently— or so I am inclined to believe,” she said after a moment. “Likely, they’ll not be back for quite some days yet.” “Oh.” Sweetie’s face fell and Rarity’s heart sank. Then, something occurred to her. “Sweetie.” “Yeah?” “Whatever is stopping you from visiting them?” Sweetie paused. “Huh?” “Well, we have a mutual friend with a time machine, after all,” Rarity said. “If you want to see our parents, you might as well ask him to take you. It would, I think, be a lovely day trip. When’s the last time you saw the Crystal Empire, hm?” “Not since Spike—” she cut herself off, suddenly remembering that the dragon had bought the Crusaders’ collective silence after that event. “No, wait, that’s something else. Never.” Rarity raised a brow, but chose not to press her sister further. That would be reserved for her fiance. “Well, that settles it. The empire is far too lovely not to see at least once. Go along to see the Doctor—” she glanced down at the tangled mess on the floor. “After you clear all this away.” “Alright…” The autumn wind had a bit of a bite to it today as Sweetie trotted up the high street toward the Doctor’s repair shop, currently run out of the back of the Doo-Turner household. Eventually, perhaps, he could move to grander quarters, but with a TARDIS in tow, he scarcely needed more than a broom closet. Normally, the shop was quiet, though some days hammering and the noise of power tools could be heard. Today, however, there was a Sound. Sweetie could hear it clearly from three houses down, a faint humming noise. Suddenly, there was a screech like bending metal, and the unicorn’s ears flattened back in fright and pain. She hurried on to the house, where Ditzy sat reading the paper and eating a muffin. “Hi, Ditzy!” Sweetie called. “What’s with all the racket?” The pegasus made no reply. Sweetie tried again, a little bit louder. “Hi, Ditzy! What’s that noise?” Again, no response, aside from the flipping of a page. Concerned— had the mare gone deaf?— Sweetie Belle poked her in the wing. “Gah!” The pegasus shot bolt upright, dropping her paper and her muffin. The latter, she caught before it hit the ground. “Oh, hi, Sweetie Belle. What’s up?” “What’s that sound?” Sweetie asked again. Ditzy frowned briefly. Then her mouth fell open in an ‘o’, and she hurriedly dug the cotton balls out of her ears. “Sorry,” she said. “He’s just found an old hobby of his, and he’s trying to pick it back up.” There was another hideous screeching, and both mares winced. “He’s a little rusty.” “What’s he doing, grinding metal?” “No, no. Playing the recorder,” Ditzy said, rubbing at her ear. “Anyway, what’s brought you here, other than the completely justified noise complaint?” “Um… I was wondering if the Doctor would take me to the Crystal Empire for the afternoon.” The grey mare’s face lit up like a Hearthswarming candle. “Oh, that sounds like a great idea,” she said. “Please, go and ask him. Fast, before somepony riles up an angry mob or something. If you can, try to make sure he loses the thing before you come back.” There was a series of sharp, short honks, and both mares winced. “I will,” Sweetie promised. Ditzy rolled her eyes back in her head. “Princess Celestia tells me he used to play the spoons, too. At least percussion wouldn’t have been so… so…” “Out of key?” “That, yeah,” Ditzy agreed. “Have a nice trip!” It was an obvious dismissal, but Sweetie couldn’t fault her for it. The dreadful screeching was already wearing on her last nerve, and she’d only been hearing it for five minutes. What it could do to somepony over the course of hours was not something Sweetie wished to contemplate. So, she smiled as honestly and kindly as she could, and scarpered off to the backyard. Ditzy smiled faintly after her, and with a sigh of deepest relief, shoved the cotton back into her ear. The door of the TARDIS hung open in the warmth of the afternoon. Sweetie smiled up at the big blue box and gave it a gentle rub. “Hello, you.” It might have been her imagination, but just for a second, the light on top of the old police box flashed a bright sky blue. Sweetie grinned, and then trotted over the threshold. Immediately, she winced. However loud the music was outside of the box, it was even more amplified inside. She opened her mouth to complain, but then she saw the Doctor. He sat, cross-legged, atop one of the console panels. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling broadly as he blew into the plastic instrument. He was, in a word, happy. Sweetie smiled, enamored. Gently, she closed the TARDIS door behind her. The Doctor’s eyes flew open, and the music stopped abruptly. “Oops,” Sweetie said, pinking slightly. The Doctor set down his recorder, still smiling. “Well, hello there, Sweetie Belle! What brings you out this way? Not here to complain about the noise, I hope?” “Well… wait. What?” The Doctor snorted. “I’m fully aware that my musical skills aren’t exactly at their peak, thanks much.” Sweetie Belle cocked her head. “So why…” “Why bother? Well, I enjoy it! Brings back good memories. Anyway, I’ll never get better if I don’t practice.” “That’s true,” Sweetie concurred. “What were you remembering?” The Doctor’s face drooped slightly. “Old friends,” he said simply. “And some… old faces. So, what’s new with you?” “Oh, uh, not much,” Sweetie replied, her voice jumping a few intervals. “Er, I was just wondering if you were up for a little trip?” The Doctor brightened. “Oh, I’m always up for that. Whither shall we wend? The Asteroid Archipelago of Abraxos Alpha? Somnia, the central silver city of Sillivant? Perhaps the massive misty mountains of Minerva Minor?” Sweetie Belle giggled slightly, warmth spreading over her features. “Those all sound good,” she agreed. “I only really want to visit the Crystal Empire, though. Surprise my parents.” The brightness and sparkle in the Doctor’s eyes faded. “Are you sure? I could show you the, the… Oh! Orion Amusements, home to the largest and fastest virtual roller coaster in its galaxy! Plus, it has great fried pizza.” “I bet Button would enjoy that,” Sweetie said, reflecting. “Or Scootaloo.” The Doctor’s smile faded. “Right. Yeah. You want to wait for them, then.” “Of course! I wouldn’t want to leave any of them out.” The smile was back as quickly and abruptly as it had left. “Right! Crystal Empire, eh? Brilliant place, isn’t it? So SHINY.” It would take a finely trained eye to notice the change in the Doctor’s smile. It seemed, on the surface, to be as real as any other. There was deep, legitimate emotion in his eyes. A closer examination, however, showed not a happy sparkle, but a faint, tearful glimmer. “Allons-y.” He pulled down on the demat lever. All Tartarus promptly broke loose. Sweetie Belle let out a piercing shriek as she was flung off her feet by the swiftly tilting ground, smashing into the railings on the sides of the platform. The Doctor said something that was probably a Gallifreyan swear word, grabbing on tightly to the console. Red lights flashed, and in the distance, vast bells tolled out a warning. “Doctor, what’s going on?” Sweetie yelled. “Cloister bells!” the Doctor shouted. “They only sound in the direst sort of emergency!” “Like what?” “Like the end of the world, or at least the end of the TARDIS!” “...Is there anything I can do?” “No — Yes, actually. Hold on tight!” The Doctor jerked down on a series of levers and pulled the demat switch again. The entire ship shuddered and then flipped like a shirt in the laundry. Sweetie screamed again as the TARDIS, for a brief moment, turned upside-down, leaving her dangling toward the high ceiling below. The room actually seemed for a moment to twist and warp like a funhouse mirror, and Sweetie Belle could feel the impossible sensation of having her limbs drift away in the nonexistent breeze. And then, as soon as it had started, the turbulence was over. Sweetie Belle clung to the railing, her breathing shallow and her eyes wide. The whole affair couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, but at the time it had felt like hours had passed. “Spatiotemporal distortion,” the Doctor said, apparently reading her mind. “Dreadful business all ‘round. At least it was a uniform stretch. Trust me, you don’t want to see what happens on the border of two timestreams. Very nasty.” The tall unicorn hoisted herself to her hooves. “What just happened?” she whispered. The Doctor chewed at his tongue. “Good question,” he replied slowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that there was some entity deliberately sabotaging us…” Sweetie swallowed hard. “However, in this case, I’d say that it was just normal equipment failure,” the Doctor said, his tone much lighter. He reached out a hoof and tapped a series of three lights on a brass plaque. With a hiss of steam, the panel rose into the air, revealing a complex system of wires and lights below, along with what looked very much like a deformed stick of chalk. “Whoa. What’s that?” Sweetie asked, staring. The Doctor exhaled through his nose. “The drift compensator,” he replied unhappily. “Keeps the time winds from buffering us too much.” “Time… winds? Do you always do that? Just take normal things and tack on ‘time’ in front of them?” The Doctor’s mouth curled up slightly at the side. “I have no idea what you mean. Anyway, the Time Lords designed this to keep the time winds from buffering their time ships. All the energy is refocused through this carefully time-shaped timestone. Unfortunately, all the time-stress has ruined it. Last time this happened was in Times Square. New York nearly had twenty New Year's Eve celebrations at once.” Sweetie rolled her eyes, smiling. “Alright, so get a new ‘timestone,’ then. You’ve got a backup right?” The Doctor bit his lower lip and suddenly became very interested in the machinery. Sweetie Belle stared at him sharply. “You don’t have a spare?” “I didn’t think I’d need to worry about it for another few hundred years!” “Well, that’s why you think ahead!” “I —” the Doctor took a deep breath. “Alright. There is a bit of good news. As it happens, ‘timestone’ really was just a joke, what I need is actually basically just quartz crystal, extremely common on Gaea. The tricky part lies in shaping it, but guess where we’ve just landed?” Sweetie Belle lit up. “The Crystal Empire! Oh, Doctor, that’s perfect!” “Isn’t it just,” the Doctor agreed, raising an eyebrow. “Now, I expect it’ll be a tad chilly out. You’ll want to fetch out a nice jacket or something from the wardrobe, I expect.” “Alright! I’ll be right back,” the unicorn said, trotting off. The Doctor watched her go, and the smile slid from his face. “It is perfect,” he muttered. “Why is it so perfect?” He rubbed the TARDIS console absently. “What are you playing at, old girl?” The Doctor had a number of senses beyond the usual five. The temporal sense, of course, was among the most easily recognized. However, over the years, he’d also managed to develop a sense of present danger, a sense of deja vu, and, among others, a sense of humor. Just for a moment, the old ‘sense of being watched’ tickled at the back of his brain and he spun around. Just for a moment, he thought he saw a brilliant blood-red light flash behind him, but there was nothing there. The warm, welcoming, and woody interior of the TARDIS suddenly seemed subtly menacing, like a gingerbread house in the deep dark forest. A cold shiver ran down the Time Lord’s back, like the bitter, biting winter wind, but he shook it off. No. This was his TARDIS, his home. If he wasn’t safe here, where would he be safe? He looked long and hard at the central console. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was staring back. Deep inside the innermost workings of the TARDIS, which no being could access, let alone survive, a deep crimson light illuminated the wires and gears and sundry gizmos which ran the timeship. Occasionally, the air was rent by lightning, snapping and crackling like breakfast cereal in a circuit breaker. Nothing could possibly survive in this environment. And yet. And yet.