//------------------------------//
// Chapter 12: The Valley of the Shadow 
// Story: For the Good of Equestria 
// by brokenimage321 
//------------------------------//

	As the little party drew closer and closer to the mountains in the distance, Celestia noticed that the landscape began to change. First, they were little pebbles in the road; then rocks by the wayside; and, eventually, entire boulders—not stones, like in Equestria—but crystals. Delicate pastel colors, glowing faintly, even in the sunlight. Celestia stopped to examine one briefly, but at Andradite’s harrumph, hurried to catch up. 
As the sun began to set, they reached a small village of wooden homes and thatched roofs. Here, the name of the village—”Mohs”—was carved into a tall, lilac crystal standing by the path. Andradite puffed out his chest a bit. “And finally,” he proclaimed, “We have reached Crystal territory proper. This is one of our more recent colonies, and I think you’ll agree—this is a wonderful little town.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And you will have your first taste of true Crystal hospitality!”
Celestia tried to ignore him. She was having a good look for herself. The townsponies stared wearily after the little entourage, their coats showing only the briefest glimmer. They had a hollow look about them, like something was… missing. And, the crystals—they were beautiful indeed, but more than one of them had sprouted into a building or through a wall. Celestia glanced at Luna, and saw the same, worried look on her face.  
“...yes,” she said slowly. “Let’s enjoy your… hospitality.”
Andradite, for the first time in the trip, consented to let them stay in a tavern. He demanded the biggest meal and the best drink be served for him and the Royal Guests—and, though the innkeeper and his wife brought them gleaming crystal plates heaped with food and crystal bottles of wine so red they shone like rubies in the light—as far as Celestia could see, no money—no gold, no gemstones—changed hooves. She bit her lip. Perhaps this was simply how their economy worked…?
But one thing she couldn’t explain away was their hungry eyes. Not directed at her—but at the mounds of food on their plates. She could feel the weight of their gaze as she lifted her fork.
Celestia took two bites—careful to avoid what looked like chunks of rock-hard crystalline corn—then declared herself full. She rose, slipped a couple Equestrian bits from her bag and slid them under the edge of the plate, then, with a glance and a smile at the innkeepers, she nodded significantly to her barely-touched plate. She stood, then walked upstairs.
Mercifully, their room didn’t have proper bedsteads—she wouldn’t have been able to fit if she’d tried—but instead, a pallet of loose straw. Celestia spread out her bedroll and laid down, listening to her stomach rumble. 
Half an hour later, Luna knocked and pushed her way inside. She raised an eyebrow at Celestia. “Andradite was looking for you,” she said. “He has some kind of music arranged for us. He called it a, um… a flugelhorn?”
Celestia shook her head. “Tell him I’m tired.”
Luna nodded. “I already did.” 
Celestia nodded her thanks. 
Celestia hesitated, then turned and shot a spark of magic at the door, and the bolt slid into place. She sighed, then turned to Luna “Did you notice?” she asked quietly.
Luna laid down on the other pallet with a heavy sigh. “Notice what?”
“The ponies are hungry,” she said.
Luna was silent for a long moment. “Yes,” she said finally, “yes, I did.” 
Celestia closed her eyes. 
“The fields seem to be growing okay, though,” Luna added. 
Celestia looked up. “Fields?”
Luna nodded. “It’s a decent-sized farming community, looks like,” she said. “Didn’t you notice the fields on the way in?”
Celestia shook her head. “No—but did you see the crystals?”
Luna glanced at her. “Crystals?”
Celestia nodded. “Everywhere. Almost looks like they’re eating the town alive.”
Luna went quiet. “What should we do?” she said, finally.
Celestia shook her head again. “I don’t know. But something strange is happening.” She sighed. “I guess we just do what we can—at least until we figure out what’s going on.”


* * *


“Your Highness,” Andradite called.
He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs as she descended. She had to admit—as much as she was starting to despise him, the early-morning sun did wonders for his coat. “Yes?” she responded. 
He bowed. “A word, if I may.” 
Celestia frowned, but stepped aside as Luna came down behind her. He followed her with his gaze until she rounded a corner, then turned his attention back to Celestia. “Your Majesty,” he repeated, “I believe you dropped these.”
And he held up the bits she had left on the table the night before. Celestia’s eyes went wide.
If he noticed, he did not react. “I know it was an accident,” he said, “but I would hate for you to leave the wrong impression. That meal was given out of the goodness of their hearts, and, if you were to attempt to pay for it—why, it would be simply the gravest insult to their generosity.”
“Of course,” she murmured, taking the bits. Well. That was one question answered. 
“And you will be pleased to know,” he continued, “that the remainder of your meal has been properly disposed of.”
The breath caught in Celestia’s throat. “W-what?” she whispered. 
“It’s an old Crystal tradition,” he continued, almost nonchalantly. “Food prepared for royal lips is simply unfit for common ponies. As such, any remainder is burned after your meal.”
“...burned?” she repeated, still breathless.
“Of course,” he replied. “We wouldn’t want to risk profaning an offering made to royalty, now would we?” he paused, then stretched that same, fake grin across his face. 
“Now,” he began, in soothing tones, “I know this isn’t how it’s done in Equestria, but you must understand—we are a proud and ancient Empire, and we have traditions of our own.” A glint of steel shone through the smile. “And you wouldn’t want to offend our traditions now, would you? You don’t want to risk your negotiations, after all...”
Celestia gritted her teeth. “No,” she replied. “No, I wouldn’t.”
Andradite nodded. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad we’ve reached an understanding.”
And with that, he turned and followed after Luna.


* * *


Breakfast that morning consisted of a similar spread—a positive mountain of food, on almost a full-size serving platter. Celestia actually saw the cook lick his lips as he set it down. Celestia tried, she really did—but she realized, after her fifth bite, that she genuinely wasn’t hungry. The “thank you” she whispered to the innkeeper as she slipped outside was met with a blank stare.
They walked through Crystal territory for two more days before approaching the mountains. Every morning and night, it was the same—too much food, too little hunger, with empty eyes watching her push the plate away. She stayed up one night for one of the flugelhorn performances, but excused herself in short order; she couldn’t stand the weight of the stares.
Finally, they left the last village behind, and found themselves nearly at the foot of the mountains. Another half-day’s walk, and their path began to climb. The road got narrower and rockier as it worked its way upward. Soon, the greenery of the world below gave way to tough grasses and tiny, starlike wildflowers. The trees were thinner, too, the oldest among them twisted into alien shapes by the harsh winter snows. And everywhere, the crystals, growing from the living stone, blue and pink and white, shedding the palest glows across the scene.
As the path changed from dirt to loose cobbles, loose cobbles to flat stone, Celestia, despite herself, began to smile. This country, harsh though it was, had its own, stark beauty;  she almost wouldn’t mind visiting again later on—after the Empire joined the Alliance, of course.
She shook her head at the thought. No. Too early for that. Too many questions, still—and not enough answers. 
Finally—after what felt like hours of chasing switchbacks up the side of the mountain—they reached the crest of the pass. 
As the valley spread out below them, Celestia gasped. Luna limped up alongside her, and her jaw fell open. Andradite, with a vicious smirk, gestured grandly at the expanse below. 
“Welcome,” he boomed. “To the Crystal Empire.”
The valley below stretched for fifty, a hundred miles, a bright, almost emerald, green. Patchworks of farms and pastures lay like a thick quilt wherever you looked. And, in the very center of the valley, shining like a jewel, lay the City.
The City. It was like something out of a dream; at least five or ten miles across, it was perfectly circular, and made entirely out of glowing crystal. And, in the very center, hundreds of feet high, stood a tall, crystal spire, glittering in the joyous sunlight.
It took Celestia almost a minute to find the words. “It’s… beautiful,” she said, finally. 
“It is, isn’t it?” Andradite said—and, for the first time since Celestia had met him, it seemed like he meant it. 
Perhaps it was the view—or, maybe, it was the fact that they could finally see their destination—but the descent was easier than the climb had been. And there, at the foot of the mountain, where the path gave way to a proper, paved road, waited a carriage for them—carved, of course, of glowing crystal, with thick pillows lining the interior.  
“Thank you,” Luna said wearily as she climbed in. 
Andradite nodded. “Of course. Now that we are in the Empire proper, it wouldn’t do to have you walk all that way.”
Celestia frowned a little, but climbed in beside her sister, who, it seemed, was already dozing off. 
Celestia sat quietly for the duration of the ride. Andradite, of course, kept up a running commentary—taking pains to point out the clever irrigation and pest control measures they had taken—but Celestia tuned him out. Instead, she took a deep breath of the clean, fresh, late-summer air—already bearing the slightest chill of winter—and watched the farms roll by: fields of crystal corn and wheat, trellises thick with shining berries, thick root greens and melons. 
And, as she watched, she found her mind wandering. Think of what a kingdom like this could do for the Alliance—a defensible valley, almost limitless fields… why, with all this, we could—
She shook her head. No. She was not here to plunder the Empire. She was here to extend friendship. Help them to join the Alliance, if possible; if not, at least open some kind of trade. Even if she couldn’t convince them to join, it was never a bad thing to be on good terms with such a powerful ally.
Celestia gazed back out at the fields again—and noticed, for the first time, that there were ponies working them. Lines of ponies, pulling weeds, or picking fruit, and—Celestia’s eyes went wide—and ponies in armor watching them carefully. Two or three per work crew. At the sight, Celestia clenched her jaw.
By the time Luna stirred again, they were almost to the city itself. When she finally opened her eyes. Celestia smiled. “That help any?” she asked. 
Luna stretched painfully. “Not really,” she groaned. “But that’s not what’s important now, is it?”