Intermission: The Forgotten Isle

Far beyond the borders of Equestria, within the Endless Ocean that surrounds the mainland, is a dark, lonely, forgotten isle. It is a dry, infertile isle, full of death and decay. Once, it was full of life, and it rained all year round. But that was long ago. None dare to even step hoof or paw here, for fear of angering the spirits of those that once resided there. Not even the most adventurous or foolhardy of Griffins, Ponies, Minotaurs, or Sirens even think about going to the forsaken island. The land there is charred black, and full of dead, withering plants. The bones of a once proud city lay on the isle, it's previous occupants resting beneath the charred, ashen ground. Once, the city was full of life, but now the isle is dead. It was, and is, an isolated isle. Only two individuals know the history of the isle.

But like all the others, they prefer it stay forgotten.

If one goes deeper inland, they will begin to see the ash and soot covered ruins of the once great city. Nearly every building holds a large, glowing light blue cog or gear at the base or poking out of the walls with smaller gears leading down into the ground.  It is unknown if these served merely as decoration or if they served an actual purpose, as some buildings have gears that are not connected to any other gears. All that is known is that these gears used to turn. Now, they lie dormant. Still. Unmoving. Dead.

The roads, like many others across the world, are cobblestone. However, if one looks closely, they will notice traces and hints of other minerals and even crystals inside. The buildings themselves are sleek and angular, and many stretch far above to the skies. Despite millenia having passed since the downfall of the city, most of the builidngs remain intact, owing up to the great craftmanship of their long dead residents. At a glance, one may notice that most of the taller buildings have windows all along each side. Perhaps the previous inhabitants enjoyed the view. It is uncertain as to whether or not they did.

After all, soot and ashes tell no story.

On the northwest end of the isle, there is a snow-capped mountain, about the same size as the mountain Canterlot rests upon. At the base of this mountain, is a mine surrounded by a now dead forest, once considered to be the more peaceful sister of the ancient Everfree. The mine is full of contraptions and tools, and stretches far into the depths of the earth, almost as deep as the Diamond Dogs have dug. Conveyor belts and minecarts and rail systems criss and cross one another in the chasms. Gems and precious metals can still be seen glittering in the cavern walls and even some in the minecarts and on the conveyor belts. Steel walkways lead even further into the depths of the chasms, seemingly endless. Scattered around the mine are something not found on the rest of the island: skeletons. They are unidentifiable, as they have been crushed and pulverised into bone meal. There are, however, some that are still mostly intact. These scarce few share similairities with ponies and sirens, but these similairities are small and few in number. They are the only clue as to what the natives looked like. Despite the rather evident wealth of the Isle, still none dare to tred upon the lifeless soil, fearing a curse.

Or perhaps, they fear that the same fate that befell the Isle will befall them.

On a hill, farther inland, near the heart of the isle, lies the castle. Like the other buildings, it is sleek and angular, but on each wall are carvings.

One particualr carving, found just above the castle gates, depicts two bipedal beings seemingly being worshipped by slightly larger beings that look like a mix between a siren and a pony. These two beings share striking resemblance to the legendary human of lore. Along the walls and sticking out of the towers are those same light blue, glowing gears. Beyond the gate, past the drawbridge and moat, lies a garden, now dead and lifeless. Once, these gardens were famed for their beauty and rare flora, but now all of them have withered away, leaving only dead trees and bushes. Inside the castle lies the throne room, where two thrones, one made of that mysterious glowing blue metal with gears and cogs making up the back and the other an iron throne with carvings of leaves and forest animals. These thrones are covered in thick layers of dust and cobwebs, thanks to millenia of neglect. Once, these two thrones were occupied for most of the day. Now they have been forgotten. Neglected. Abandoned.

And they will remain that way for millenia to come.

On the mountain, near the snow-capped peak, lies a large, glittering frozen lake. Beneath the hard ice, lay glittering crystals of many different colors and shapes. In the middle of the lake lies a marble gazebo with a glowing blue metal gear as a dais, where many inhabitants made pilgrimage to in the name of their faith. If one were to step on the dais and channel their magic into the gear, they would be transported down, deep below the island where one of the most sacred places resides. For beneath the island is a lake full of large, petrified trees. The water here glitters with minerals, and cascades down sheer cliffs in waterfalls. This, is where one of the most well guarded and most powerful objects resides. The elder sibling of the Crystal Heart, The Acrylic Heart. Like it's sibling, it holds unimaginable power in the form of emotions. And, like it's sibling, it holds the power of love. But, unlike it's sibling, it holds the power to make any wish a reality. It holds the power of hope and dreams. Surrounding the Heart is a glowing, blue metal cog connected to two other gears on either side of it. These gears connect to numerous other gears that cascade upwards through the roof of the cavern, connecting to other gears as they continue upwards. Only a select few ever make it to this cavern, as the shrine that leads to it allows only the most pure of heart with two exceptions. It's creators. The surface of The Acrylic Heart is scratched and marred, unlike it's sibling. None know of how it came to be exactly, only that it was made. Perhaps we will never know. But one thing is certain about the Isle of Tears.

None will remember it.