Mortal Equines

Good evening everyone (I won’t have it said that I am racist, despite the incident with the Gryphons in the winter of ‘83. It was entirely their fault, race doesn’t come into it). My name, as you doubtless know, is Twilight Sparkle, Lady-Librarian of the fair city of Canterlot. Detailed in the following pages are the accounts of my journey across the Great Hunting Grounds, the discoveries I made, and the friends I found along the way, sometimes in the unlikeliest of places.

But before I dive into a retelling of my 'awesome adventures’ as one friend in particular might put it, perhaps I should explain a little something about my home, as it is entirely possible that by the time this tome is read, the pony way of life may have changed drastically. I have certainly realised by now that our methods of survival as communities is unsustainable, and others are also waking up to the fact.

I am what the people of my world call a ‘Tractionist’. I live in a great, lumbering creation, the converted city of Canterlot; a huge, mobile conurbation. The city is formed of three plate-tiers, like a metal and stone wedding cake, stacked atop the gigantic engine block, or ‘gut’, home to our refineries, smelteries, factories, and, naturally, the engines. Our city is propelled by means of advanced combustion, powering truly massive caterpillar tracks (that easily dwarf a dozen ponies stood atop each other’s backs, as I have personally seen) that haul my home onwards. Nestled at the front of my city are the gleaming steel ‘jaws’, used to capture smaller cities and drag them inside of disassembly.

Now, onto the tiers themselves. The uppermost tier of the ‘Canterlot cake’ is home to the Royal Castle exclusively, with all original wings, including my own beloved library, in accompaniment! Although I myself do not live there, the leaders of the Guilds have their own spacious suites. Flim & Flam of the Engineers Guild, guardians of our engines and the technology that holds us above those who live in static settlements. Star Swirl VIII (the direct descendant of both Star Swirl the Bearded and Star Swirl II, Mobiliser of Cities. Truly, a blessed family line, even if our current Star Swirl is somewhat lacklustre compared to those of the past) of the Magic Guild, although they have long been in bed with one another as the unofficial ‘Magitech Guild’. Lord Fancypants of the Merchants Guild, the current Lord Mayor Regent of Canterlot. Last, but not least, is the honourable Lady Daring Do of my own Librarians Guild. The Navigators lost their places on the upper tier as a sanction for incompetence decades ago, in the ambush of ‘27, but that is a tale for later (Birth and Death of a Town, by Sunny Harvest. I heartily recommend this book... as with all books).

Tier two is home to the nobility of Canterlot (of which there are a lot, some more worthy of space than others). This tier houses countless mansions, private forests and parks for the upper crust of society, and even a lake fed by the Canterlot falls themselves. Access to this tier is restricted to residents and invitees only, except on public holidays. The viewing galleries on the skirts of this tier are second only to the castle balconies in terms of the vistas they allow one to see.

Finally, there is tier three, home (previously) of yours truly. Tier three is by far the largest tier, and home to the most ponies. It is here that the everyday working and middle class families live, where crops are grown around the edges of the plate, in the sunlight, to feed the entire city. Canterlot is a rich traction city, both in monetary and cultural wealth, and it shows. Everypony is well off.

We may not have as many tiers as Manehattan, or defenses as capable as those of Stalliongrad, but our towers are without compare, unique, distinct. Relics from an era in which gods walked alongside us mortals.

...And the gut is the gut. I prefer to stay away from that area.

My story begins in the Autumn of ‘80, the six hundredth year of our glorious tractionist way of life...