Lines Are Falling
On the southern edge of the Crystal Empire, a solitary cabin sat in the woods atop a cliff. Its translucent red crystal exterior stood in sharp contrast to the snow-covered evergreen trees surrounding it. Next to the cabin, a wooden pole rose into the cold night air above. From the antenna, a thin metal wire extended down into the woods.
Inside of the cabin, an old, bearded crystal pony sat at a desk, reading a book, waiting for a message to come over the wire. He walked over to the fireplace, where a small flame flickered. He tossed another log into the fireplace, causing the fire to roar to life. The flickering flames reflected off of his crystal coat.
As a train dispatcher in the remote Crystal Empire, he did not have much work to do on a regular basis, though he served a critical function when he did. He was responsible for relaying track conditions to stations further down the line. If the track was covered in snow and impassable, or if a boulder had fallen onto the track from the mountains, or if a train was passing in the other direction, his job was to relay the message to the conductor by telegraph. Since there were no pegasi, the weather in the Crystal Empire managed itself, and was unpredictable.
The telegraph was a fairly new invention, and as such, this was the only line. It was also the only way for the Crystal Empire to instantly communicate with Equestria. The journey took two days by train, or one by pegasus flight.
As he sat reading, he heard incoming dots and dashes over the line, and paused from his reading to listen to the message.
“F R O M V A N H O O V E R T R A I N L I N E W H A T I S C U R R E N T C E
T R A C K S T A T U S S T O P”
The crystal pony gazed out of his window. From this high up atop the cliff, he could see down into the valley below, where the track ran through. The train track was clear for miles, which was rare for this time of winter. He had not recently received another request from a train to come in the opposite direction, so knew that there would be no trains using the track to go the opposite direction.
He busily tapped out a series of dots and dashes on the telegraph machine, relaying his reply to the Equestrian conductor.
“T O V A N H O O V E R L I N E T R A C K S A R E C L E A R P R O C E E D T O
C E S T O P”
He waited a few moments before he heard the conductor’s response.
“A F F I R—”
The old stallion paused for a few moments. Something had interrupted the conductor’s message. Puzzled, he decided he would have to go outside and inspect the line. The dispatcher grabbed a lantern from the shelf and lit it, walking outside.
A frigid blast of air hit the dispatcher in the face as he walked into the woods outside of his cabin. He walked around towards the back of his hut where the telegraph pole stood. As he glanced over to it, his eyes widened in surprise.
The line was snapped. One end of it hung from the pole, dangling, and the other end sat in the snow. Perhaps it had worn out, or was frayed. He brought the lantern over to the wire to inspect it. It was a clean cut.
His heart skipped a beat as he noticed a set of hoofprints next to the line. The dispatcher looked at the hoofprints, following them until he saw that they led to the trees, only a few yards away. Against the dark trees, he could see the silhouette of a pony illuminated in the pale moonlight. The dispatcher could make out that he held a pair of wire-clippers in his hooves.
The shadowy pony looked directly at the dispatcher.
“Hey! What are you doing?” the dispatcher called out to the pony, his voice quivering slightly.
The shadowy pony turned around. He stood in place for a moment, and then slowly walked towards the dispatcher.
“Listen, I don’t want any trouble,” the dispatcher said, nervously backing up towards his cabin.
The pony continued walking towards him, not saying a word. The dispatcher backed up more, dropping his lantern to the ground as he hit the back wall of his cabin. He stood, petrified, as the pony walked up towards him. He gulped, wondering whether he should run or stand and fight.
The shadowy pony reached a hoof over to his back, where he wore a saddle. He reached in and retrieved a small metallic object which glinted in the lantern's light.
“Is that…” the dispatcher gasped. “Listen, bud, don’t do this! I’ll do whatever you want!”
The pony rose the revolver up towards the dispatcher’s head. He paused for a few moments.
“Very well,” the pony spoke.
The dispatcher breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you so much. You can have all my money, all my—”
The dispatcher fell to the snowy ground as a boom echoed through the woods. The shadowy pony calmly placed his gun into his saddlebag, turned around, and walked off.
“Funny running into you, Soarin!”
The blue pegasus turned around to see Spitfire standing behind him in the street.
“Oh, Spitfire? Hey, I’m just here in the Crystal Empire on leave.”
“Same here. So, have you come to see all the scenery?” said Spitfire. She motioned with her hoof towards the grand Crystal Palace which stood in front of them. It towered into the air, piercing the clouds above, shining bright over the Crystal City. Its light blue exterior glistened in the morning sun.
“Well, that’s part of it,” said Soarin.
“And the other part?” asked Spitfire, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, just getting away from it all. Ponies back home, you know, that sort of thing,” Soarin replied, somewhat sheepishly.
“Ah, well hopefully I don’t count as one of them,” Spitfire chuckled.
“No, no, not at all,” Soarin clarified, smiling.
“Well, we should do something. You been to see the Crystal Museum at all?” asked Spitfire.
“Nope,” said Soarin. “Though I wouldn’t have pegged you as the museum type.”
“I’m not,” Spitfire chuckled. “I wondered if you were.”
Soarin paused for a few moments. Then, he responded, “What do they even have there?”
Spitfire paused, putting her hoof on her chin. Finally, she exclaimed, “I have no idea!”
They both laughed, and walked off together.
The Crystal Museum was located inside of the Crystal Palace itself, on the top floor. Dozens of tourists walked around, looking at the crystal sculptures, jewelry, and paintings behind glass cases. Crystal pony guards stood by some of the displays, keeping a watchful eye over them.
“The Crystal Museum was erected during the time of Sombra,” said the tour guide. Spitfire and Soarin followed him as he led a tour group down the hallway.
The tour guide motioned around to various items. “Sombra had an insatiable appetite for amassing wealth, power, and crystals. Sombra’s slaves built this museum to house the crystal hoard that he amassed during his rise to power. There are thousands upon thousands of items that he plundered from tombs, libraries, galleries, and homes during his conquest of the Empire. These artifacts span from the earliest cave-dwelling days of crystal ponies, to the Warring States era, to the Artistic Revival paintings made during the hundred year peace before Sombra. Many are priceless, and all are irreplaceable.”
The tour guide pointed towards a wall. There were many gorgeous watercolor paintings of crystal ponies, sunsets, trees, and mountains. On the opposite wall, glass cases with crystal sculptures of ponies stood. They looked exactly lifelike.
“How on earth did they chisel those?” asked Soarin.
“Beats me,” answered Spitfire.
The guide continued, “Besides satisfying his greed, this museum had a secondary purpose for Sombra. He despised the crystal ponies making any art that did not glorify him, and wanted to demoralize the populace by keeping all of the art to himself and depriving the ponies of their history. Sombra had no respect for our history, as he was an invading unicorn from Equestria. He was to be the past, present, and future of the empire. All else was to be wiped from the page of time. This museum was only open to one pony: Sombra.
“Now that he is gone, however, this museum still stands, but is now open to the public as a monument to the artistic expressions of our people, and as a testament to our resilience even in the face of tyranny.”
The pony concluded his speech. All of the crystal ponies and tourists in the audience clapped. A few of the crystal ponies had tears in their eyes.
“Man, that’s heavy,” sighed Soarin, a somber look on his face.
“Totally,” Spitfire replied.
They walked around, gazing at some of the art for a few minutes.
“Hey, what do you say we grab a bite? I’m kinda hungry,” Soarin suggested.
“Okay. But I can’t eat any of that crystal fruit crap. Makes my stomach ache. I don’t know how those crystal ponies can handle it,” said Spitfire.
“They’re resilient in the face of tyranny, remember? What’s a little stomach ache to them?” Soarin chuckled.
“Well, their tolerance for pain must be higher than mine,” said Spitfire. “I'm a military pony, so that’s impressive. Let’s go over to the train station; I heard they have an Equestrian restaurant over there.”
“As long as they have hayburgers,” said Soarin.
Soarin and Spitfire sat at a table in the train depot, eating their hayburgers.
“I can’t believe we’re eating Equish food in the Crystal Empire,” Spitfire said. “How uncultured of us. What kind of tourists are we?”
“The non-masochistic type,” Soarin mumbled through a mouthful of food.
“Now arriving: the Vanhoover Line from Equestria,” a voice spoke over the loudspeaker. Spitfire and Soarin gazed out over the platform, twenty yards away. The whistle tooted as the train came to a stop.
“Good thing we got these burgers when we did,” said Spitfire. “Otherwise, we’d have had to wait in line behind all these fresh arrivals.”
“Yup,” said Soarin.
“Welcome to the Crystal Empire, folks!” the conductor called. The doors to the train opened as the tourists filed out.
“I just hope they don’t all go to that depressing museum,” said Soarin.
“Eh, it’s not so bad. It’s a testament to their resilience, I guess,” said Spitfire. “Though not exactly a really fun time, either. We’ll have to do something fun later, like—”
Suddenly, a tremendous explosion ripped through the train. Glass shattered and flew into the platform. The blast knocked Spitfire and Soarin onto the floor. Terrified screams pierced the air as smoke rose from the destroyed husk of what was once the Vanhoover Line from Equestria.