Granny Smith tells a tall tale.
Free Writer, Grassy, and Iron Ore stood at the platform of the Ponyville train station. It was as if boredom was etched onto their faces with a chisel. Every so often, Free would scratch his mane with his hoof. Grassy shifted around aimlessly, eye-banging a flask sticking out of his bags. Iron Ore yawned; he wasn’t a morning pony. Then again, neither were the rest of them.
“I knew trains could be late,” Grassy said, “but this is just pathetic.”
“We’ve been standing here for five minutes.” Iron said, glancing at Grassy.
“Eh.” he shrugged.
“You know,” Granny Smith said, hobbling up next to them, “there was a time when there wasn’t a train to ride on.”
“Sweet Celestia!” Free said, jumping a bit, “ Give us a little warning when you do that.”
“The point still stands, young'un.” she said, eyeing him, “ You take the train for granted, when you don’ even know how the tracks were laid.”
“Please, then,” Free said, “ regale us.”
“Yeah,” Iron shrugged, “it’ll help pass the time.”
“Alright,” Granny Smith said, tottering to a bench, “ come sit, mah old joints can’t take all this standing.”
“Wait, she’s serious.” Grassy muttered.
“Guess so.” Free replied.
“I kinda wanna hear it.” Iron said.
“Eh, not like we have much else to do.” Grassy conceded.
They took a seat on the bench next to Granny Smith.
“Now the tale starts in Canterlot…” she started cryptically.
It was the 800th year of Celestia’s reign, and Equestria was in the largest technical revolution that the country had ever seen. Advances were being made in every industry, every branch of science. The Starswirlian renaissance was at its peak. The government was rapidly expanding its infrastructure to keep up with the economic growth. Thus, the newest technology was being brought in, and this, of course, was the steam engine. Using magically generated heat, the water was boiled into steam, which powered pistons turning the wheels.
Of course, the Equestrian government had drawn up plans for the rail networks. However, there was one slight problem; the track for said steam engine needed to be laid. The Equestrian government had commissioned the project, but as there were not enough financial resources to pay for the project, the Government had promised land to the workers who finished the lines. Princess Celestia had even taken personal interest in the railways. She often personally observed the work of her little ponies.
But with every great plan, there are bumps in the road. See, several companies that had acquired vast revenues of bits, and bonds, were interested in buying out the government of the railways and the surrounding property--property that was meant to go to the workers upon completion of the line. The head of one company, a Mr. Horseshoe McHooves, even came close to excluding government contractors from the project entirely.
One day, as the rail workers were continuing about their business, a minotaur came up to the camp. He held a hammer in his hands, and he had a smile on his face.
“I’d like to work on the rail line.” he said.
“Since when have you ever worked on a rail line?” one of the ponies asked.
“Since today.” he said slamming his hammer down on a spike, driving it into the ground.
“Eh, what’s your name again?” the pony asked.
“Steel Driver.” he said.
Steel Driver went to work the next day, laying the new track alongside the ponies. The ponies were in awe of his height and strength. Progress increased, but Horseshoe McHooves fought back. He got the government's permission to send a workforce to help in completion of the railroad. The deal was, if he finished it, he could keep the land around the lines.
When the workers heard this, they were devastated. Their future homes were at stake. If McHooves finished the line first, their grueling labor would have been for nothing. And with McHoove’s cutting edge machines, how could he not? When they were three miles away from completing the line, the first of McHoove’s machines arrived. It was a lumbering thing, the newly invented steam drill. It trundled down the tracks, kicking up dust as it went. The machine stopped and the driver handed Princess Celestia an edict from the officials at Canterlot. McHoove’s company was to be in charge of the completion of the line, not Celestia.
Some of the workers were angry; the machines were going to finish the line. They couldn’t beat something that didn’t get tired. The workers were so angry that they tried to destroy the machine. As they were about to dismantle it, a thundering voice was heard.
“Stop!” it cried, it came from Steel Driver, “ We can’t just destroy it, it’s not right.”
“But why, Steel?” one pony asked, “ McHooves is going to take our land, and the rail line!”
“Then I’ll challenge the machine!” Steel said, “ If I can finish the line by sundown, then we keep our land. If the machine does, then we leave.”
“But that’s impossible, Steel!” Celestia cried, “ The end of the line is three miles away, and there’s a mountain in the way! It could take months!”
“It’s worth it for our dreams.” He said, turning to the pony driving the machine, “ What do you say?”
“Oh, I do declare,” the driver said, leaving the cabin, it was none other that McHooves himself, “but if I win, there has to be one more condition. You, Steel Driver, have to come work for me.”
“Deal.” Steel said.
“Steel!” Celestia said, “ If he wins, he’ll not only own the land, he’ll own you!”
“I know, Celestia.” he said, turning to the crowd of workers, “ We’ve worked too hard to step down this close!”
With those words, the ponies galloped to set stakes for the two racers to hammer in. began to take a ready position. Celestia stood in front of the two. Wordlessly, she sent a beam of magic into the air. When it boomed, they began.
The steam drill hissed as McHooves fired it up. Steel began to slam his hammer down on stake after stake, driving them down in single hits, advancing with speed no pony had seen before. But the steam hammer was just as fast, rolling the down the length of the track, seamlessly slamming down stakes, overtaking Steel. As Steel fell back into the dust of the machine, the crowd’s faces fell. But then, his hammering increased, and in a puff of dust, Steel Driver began to burst out of the cloud, hammer strikes ringing like bells. He overtook the steam drill once more, the crowd singing and chanting all the way. Then at last, Steel’s hammer came in contact with mountain.
“Steel wins!” the workers screamed and cheered.
The crowd was prancing and shouting when McHooves and his steam drill rolled up. Then they realized.
“It’s not sundown yet…” one of the workers breathed.
The steam drill began to hammer it’s way into the mountain. Steel sank to his knees, defeated. He slammed his fist against the mountain, silently cursing it. Then, Celestia trotted over, nudging the hammer into his hand. She turned his head to all of the dirty, tired workers. There were some whistles. A unicorn threw Steel his hammer. He grinned, with a renewed strength, and taking a hammer in each hand, began slamming them into the mountain face. Each strike creating new divots in the rock. The crowd renewed their cheering as he burrowed his way in. They rushed around the side of the mountain. Meanwhile, inside the mountain, Steel’s hammers began to glow because of the friction made by the rock. He was right beside the steam hammer now, it’s own hammers also glowing.
Then on the other side of the mountain, there was a huge explosion of rock dust in front of the crowd. The crowd held their breaths. Out of the dust, covered in dirt sweat, and hands covered in bloody blisters, was Steel Driver. He stepped out of the new tunnel, hammers triumphantly held high. A blast was heard, and Horseshoe McHooves stepped out covered in rock dust.
“You win.” he spat, “ I’m a pony of my word.”
McHooves left, the crowd cheered. Then Steel collapsed, exhausted. Now here is where the story differs. Some say that Steel died that day, the feat of strength leaving his body broken. Some say, that he lived out the rest of his days on his promised land. However, his feats became legend and legend became myth. And maybe, just maybe, deep down in the hallways of the royal palace, lies a hammer. A hammer that moved mountains.
“An’ that is how the ponyville rail line was made.” Granny Smith finished.
“I got one question.” Free spoke up.
“Yea, Sonny?” Granny Smith replied, “ Speak up.”
“How do you know all this?” He asked.
“Well, I was there.” she replied.
“How?” Iron Ore asked, “ You’d have to be over 200 years old.”
“A true lady never reveals her age.” she smirked, tottering. “ And good gentlemen never ask.”
“I don’t believe it.” Grassy said.
“Me neither,” Free said, “ but I like that version of the story.”
“Yeah,” Iron said, “ I’m gonna have to remember that.”
The train puffed up to the station.
“Well, guys,” Iron said getting off the bench, “ train’s here.”
“Yeah.” Free said.
“Let's go.” Grassy said.
Author's Note
Hope you enjoyed the story. Feel free to murder me on grammar in the comments.
