My papa told me years ago: "Mare and stallion alike will always fight for supremacy". Supremacy I learned was not as black and white as my papa once had tried to teach me. Supremacy is to the victor; no? Supremacy of power, of pleasure, of right and might. It is the decoration that those with potential wear as they stand above the streets. Supremacy, melted down, is a fine, glittering gold. Gold that singes the hoof tips as you dip them into its velvet-like embrace. Much like the supremacy it so richly mirrors.
My mama told me when I was young: "Those without horns are no better than serfs. Those without wings from the serfs are as good as dirt". Dirt is to be spit on. At least that is what those that loom above the dirt believe with their pompous arrogance. Mama was right with her words, sadly. We do not have to accept this though. The unicorns and pegasi? They are fearful creatures. They hide within their shrouds made of clouds or magic. While us below? We hide within the dirt. Within the earth. The earth that hides many great powers within.
My grand-papa shared with me his wisdom once: "The sea, the winds, and even the heavens share one mighty trait. They fight a mighty battle against the earth from sunrise to the end of time". Do you not understand? The sea beats against the land. But does it kneel? The winds slice against the face of the world. But does it cry? The heavens pelt against the stone with hail and rain. But does it beg? No. The earth never gives into defeat. Why? Because it is not supremacy's gilded gold. No. It is humility's unbending silver. Firm, strong, and proud. Something those with supremacy cannot hope to understand.
My name is Silver Bit. I live within the proud Crystal Empire among the beaten and weathered Earth Ponies within these harsh times. Much like the fires, we must stoke ourselves daily; so as to prevent the heel of oppression from crushing our worn bodies. But, it strengthens our resolve... Not all of our resolves, if any... But mine will never break. It will never bend. It will never give. My resolve is mighty... Like my forge.
Yes... The forge. The forge is of my own design. I brought it into this world under the visions I suffered from above. Onto me, the Makers imparted visions of hope. The visions of a whole world bathed in earth's ever giving life. A whole world not made of stone or of wood or even of mud... But a world made of the earth's most powerful and strongest craft. Stones unlike any pony kind has ever seen. They are not dull or ridged; these stones are beautiful in color and smooth to the touch. They're stronger than gold and even silver. This... Is metal.
Metal. Earth's greatest gift to pony-kind. Pure, raw metal... Something those with supremacy cannot come close to mastering. Why? Because it comes from the dirt. From the earth... From mettle. Mettle breeds metal and metal bolsters mettle. Or, so I have dreamed... In truth, the forge has not been used to make anything of great use as of yet. In fact, it has only been used once... At the cost of my front hooves. I broke down earth itself with my mallet for hours. Sweat dripped from upon my brow and salted against my tired eyes as the hours drove on. But, in time, the earth yielded to me its first secrets. Not gold or silver... But something new. Something weak, shifting, and chalky at my first touch... I named it tin and copper.
With these two, I worked them together; melting them down into one another to form a new form of metal itself. One that I came to call Bronze. I spent days forming the cast I wished to mold my first work of metal into. It was that cast which I poured the first collection of bronze I had made... However, when I did that, my front hooves were burnt to a crisp. The village screamed with my wails of pain as the bronze poured into the cast which I labored over. I watched from pain filled eyes as metal, earth's newest and most beautiful gift, formed into something of my own design. It spent hours of cooling, weathering, and testing before I finally removed my creation from the cast.
That marked my first creation... I named it Welding Claw. Bronze, unshakable, and made so I would never have to burn my hooves again... It was the perfect invention.
Now... when I have my own children... My own kin... I will share with them my knowledge: "Mares and stallions can never be trusted... But the earth can. Ask the earth for anything and it will provide for you. Ponies are deceitful and prideful. But steel? Metal? Metal you can always trust". I do not really believe that myself... But, it's only a hope that words like that will inspire the next generation to make a metal world. A world made from the earth's riches. A world that the unicorns will envy and the pegasi will seethe over. A world made from the labor of the Earth Ponies that will tower over all the rest. Not for the sake of pride or the need to crawl out of the gutters... But to bring hope to the other races "in the dirt".
For now, as I stand before my forge; smock against my breast, tongs within my muzzle, and claw holding firm the red hot of a forging art; I tell you this: No one race is weak or strong. It is the power to see the deepest reaches of anything's treasures that makes us all really mighty. And that, deep-deep-deep-deep down... Is true supremacy. Knowing how to equal out what makes us different.
We're all much like the ore beneath our hooves. Cold, ridged, filled with secrets and unfounded potential. The potential to create or the potential to destroy. To build or to deconstruct. To forge or to melt away. No single ore shaped the same; each one holding many different minerals and cuts to it. Both flawless and damaged even at first glance. What may come from it not a pony could say for certain, no?
But, all the same in that each and every ore--pony--was at one point brought into the world by another's work. Everything has a start... Everything has a story... And sometimes, that story is only there for the build up for an even greater tale...
Author's Note
Do you want to hear Silver Bit's story?
