B.C. (before Celestia)

The Canterlot crystal mine was discovered by some earth ponies in 991 BC (Before Celestia). During the time of the Peg Lords (776-443 BC) the mine switch control with whichever Peg Lord could maintain control.

About 475 BC Sombra gained dominance over the slave trading of earth ponies. As the sole slave provider for the operation of the mine, Sombra soon gained control over the mine itself. His willingness to sell slaves and now crystal to any peg lord made him a major neutral power among the feudal peg lords. His power grew because of his neutrality.

It was about 449 BC that problems stated plaguing the mine operation. Unfortunately it was at this same time that a period of relative peace between the peg lords began. As peace continued, prosperity grew and the demand for crystal increased. Sombra’s wealth increased, but production at the mines fell.

Sombra’s use of earth ponies as slave labor had always had problems with runaways, but now ponies were simple disappearing.

“Pick” was a brown pony with a dark brown mane. He was digging at the wall knowing that the more crystal they could haul out, the more food they would eat. The whip pony was a cruel master, but at least he was fair. Some whip ponies got fat on the slave ponies rations, working their slave gangs to starvation, and starvation brought disease.

Some ponies were pushed too hard; some would escape or try too, only last week 5 slave ponies and their whip had disappeared in one the side tunnels.

“Pick” a call went out

“Over her” Pick answer as he realized it was his crew buddy – 'Shovel'

“These tunnels are getting confusing” said Shovel

“I would swear that there wasn’t a lateral passage back there”

The mountain rumbled, the slaves and their whips were scared. A second team of workers had disappeared. A rumor was spreading that the mountain was hungry.

Pick, Shovel and Whip worked more cautiously today. The new slaves added to the crew were either frighten or resigned to their fate.

A new slave joined the group. Whip named him Digger. The group of 4 would dig out a section and then collapse it and move on to another section. Rooms and hallways would be built and then collapse on purpose least gases would build up that could either explode or suffocate. Whip acquired another pony slave from another team. Whip dubbed him Cart Mule, as it became his function to push carts up the ramp and ride the empties back down.

The team of five broke for the day, ate a high fat meal and crashed for the shift. Outside in the slave camp, most were too tired from long hours to stay up and talk, guards patrolled the perimeter but tonight, they seemed to be more interest in the dangers outside of camp than the possible escape of slaves. It was quiet, too quiet, even the insects had stopped their chirping and other noises.

The lone Pegasus guard on the western fence never saw it coming. His eyesight was sharp, but something tonight seemed off, like an extra mountain or hill on the horizon. He tried to place the hills in his mind but it just didn’t seem to fit. The clouds passing over the moon didn’t help. The shadows cast gave an eerie quality to the landscape. Something shinny reflected in his view. Oddly shaped, it seem familiar but the size was all wrong. The peg wanted the clouds to move so he could see better and he got his wish, but too late.

As the clouds parted the peg began to realize his doom. His mind went into shock and his eyes screamed out the danger no pony would ever hear.

The next day

The mood was restless in camp. All the slaves and their whips were assembled in the main quad. A through count of every slave was completed. The warden for the slave camp, a peg of corpulent status, after a conference with his reg lts, proclaimed a holiday.

The company dining hall became a rumor factory, slaves and whips were at a loss with themselves. Some ponies used the day off to relax and rest. Some took an overdue bath.

Pick and Shovel made a drum set out of some empty barrels. Many ponies leant their voices to songs. Songs about life and grass and hills of green. Songs about home.

The peg guards were acting nervous. Some pegasus had disappeared in the night, and that peg wasn’t the type to do that. Noteworthy was that all his gear was still in the barracks.

The peg guards were on double watch that night and this put every pony on edge. Something was uncharitably wrong.
Pick and Shovel feared something bad was about to happen.

It did, the ground started shaking, smoke escape the mine entrance. Ponies lost their balance and fell. One of the guard towers toppled. The peg guards took to the air. From the sky they could see the earth below quivering like pudding.
There was something moving beneath the earth. It moved toward the center of the work camp. Then burst forth from the ground. This eruption of earth spewing skyward put the pegs into a state of shock. Dust clouded their vision as they sought the source of this salient. The serpentine creature emerge from the dust cloud and snatched a helpless pegasus, snapping it’s back in its gigantic jaws as acidic saliva slipped from the monstrous mouth and splashed upon the hapless ponies half buried beneath the overturned soil.

The pegs swooped in to attack the beast, but the sheer impossibility of the monster’s size stunned some pegs into useless awe. Only its head and neck had breached the earth, now, as its claws and shoulders breached the earth in an eruption of more earth and rock did the pegs even began to gauge the monsters true size.

“Dragon” went the chorus of frightened voices. “Dragon!” vented the small chorus of voices still able to respond. Most ponies were too bewildered by the cloud of dust and falling rock or the unstable earth to even contemplate what the word ‘dragon’ meant. All they know is that if they stay where they are, they would die. Many tried to flee, no longer heedful of their slave masters or the enclosing fence. The beast had now partially emerged from the earth, crushing buildings and ponies, it snatch up in its yawning mouth with razor sharp teeth the last of the annoying pegs.

The monstrous beastie’s tail broke the surface of the earth and swept both fence and ponies into its immediate area to make consumption easier. If any pony had the mental calmness to consider the dragon’s great size, it surely required an entire herd of ponies to sustain. Clearly hunger had prompted the beast to attack the slave camp. There the dragon found a ready meal with little resistance, except for a few crunchy pegs in light armor.

Before the dust had even settled, the massacre was finished, the ponies were devoured and the monster plunged back into the earth as if taking a dip in a pond.

A raven fluttered overhead, trying to understand the dust and earth cloud. All was quiet now and the bird’s keen eyes told it that there was little left to feed upon. But curiosity won out and the bird circled a few more times looking for some scrap. The raven knew that this place wasn’t like it had been. The guard towers and buildings were gone. The sounds were all gone as well. A fine layer of brown dust and earth covered the wreckage. Only the ants frantically rebuilding their nests showed any sign of life to the dark predator. Was it hunger that gave pause to the blackbird’s sense of loss?

A small mound of dirt showed some movement and the raven dived directly there for a chance at a meal, and then aborted its dive, realizing the size of the mound.

A pony covered in dirt and mud roused himself from within a broken rail cart. Pick had hid himself in the cart by accident as the earth quake had rolled him into the rail cart. There by sheer chance had he escaped the feasting of the dragon. However, Pick did not escape unharmed, his ribs ached and his ears rang. Pick was too dizzy to stand and his stomach churned, not from the carnage he had witnessed, but instead from his ringing ears. Pick only manage to raise himself out of the dirt and dust for a moment before collapsing and losing consciousness.

The raven circled overhead. It could be patient. It knew what death looked like. It would only be a little longer.
Several hours passed and other birds of opportunity also circled. The pony below had not moved and the raven knew that if he didn’t act soon the bigger vultures would be dipping in to dine soon.

As the raven dove down to some nearby rubble, the lone pony remained motionless. The blackbird cautiously hopped closer. It studied the broken pony. Was it still living? Yes, the raven could hear Pick’s wheezing and irregular breath. Now the raven calculated if the distressed pony would put up a fight. The raven knew to strike at the eyes first to determine if there would be any fight left in the collapsed form.

It hopped closer. The sharpness of its beak flashed clear and threatening. The distressed pony groaned and the raven took to the air with a shrill cry. Still the fallen figure remained motionless while the blackbird joined the other circling birds.
The sun bleached down late into the day. Again the raven was the first to drop down and test the stricken pony. Fueled by its hunger, the raven hopped closer than before. Pick’s wheezing breath was shallow and accompanied by a slight gurgling sound.

Like a dart the sharp beak snatched at the eyelid. Flesh tore; blood speckled the raven’s bill. The doomed pony made no response. Pick has lapsed into comma. The blackbird’s beak tore into the eye and plucked it out. The other birds overhead began a slow circling decent. The shadows of the bigger birds worried the raven and it took to flight with its juicy prize. The vultures called to each other with congratulations as they lighted upon the ground. it didn’t matter to them if the pony was only half dead.

The raven circled the former slave camp still tasting the milky fluid within the now swallowed eyeball. Its sharp eyes noticed three shadows on the horizon coming this way. With a perverse satisfaction the dark wing predator gave a warning cry to the vultures, who reluctantly paid heed and abandoned their meal, for now.

Three ponies in dark cloaks galloped into what was left of the camp. They were following a swirling green mist pointing the way to the lone survivor. They gathered around him as one began chanting some type of song, and then another joined in.