A Pony's History of the Snow Ponies and Thestrals, and their Role in Equestria Today

Chapters

I: An Introduction to Snow Ponies and Thestrals
II: The Great Dark Mark
III: On Democracy

I: An Introduction to Snow Ponies and Thestrals

A Snow Pony, to those living in areas other than the slums of Manehattan, or the freezing tundras of Northern Equestria is a crude statue of a pony made of snow. To those in the know, however, it is the name of one of Equestria's forgotten tribes. We are a humble race of hard workers, who help to ensure the safety and productivity of Equestria, just as the other tribes do.

A Snow Pony is similar to an Earth Pony in that they have solid bones, and no wings or horn. They make up for it with their adaptations to extreme heat and cold, notably their thick fur, neutral coloration, and padded hooves, which resemble snowshoes.

Snow Ponies find work in many fields. In coastal regions in the north, they are largely fisherponies, and are renowned for their ability to withstand the cold during ice-fishing season. In the tundra, they can be found hauling sleds loaded with commercial goods across vast distances, in much the same way as many Earth Ponies haul wheeled carts filled with supplies or commodities across Equestria's countryside. Snow Ponies also notably organize into militas in ethnically homogenous villages or neighborhoods, which is a practice unique amongst the tribes. This is probably because they are in fact barred from entering service in the Royal Guard. In the industrial districts of some larger cities, like Trottingham and Manehattan, they can be found working in factories, foundries, refineries, and other such places, where they have garnered a reputation as hard workers. Why is it that Snow Ponies have acquired this reputation, however? Furthermore, why do they take such a militant demeanor in their own communities? This requires a deeper dive into their history and culture, as only Snow Ponies such as us can give you.

This will be explored in greater detail in later pamphlets. For now, it is time for us to introduce the Thestrals, or Bat Ponies, as they are more commonly known. The Thestrals are even more elusive, than the Snow Pony, owing to their nocturnal habits and dark coats, but much more widely known, owing to their appearance, their distinctive sounds, and their conspicuous presence in Princess Luna's Royal Guard.

The Thestral is most similar to a Pegasus, having hollow bones, and wings, but is dissimilar in that its wings are fleshy rather than feathered, and its ears are longer and more jagged. They have the fascinating ability to echolocate (which is a topic that science textbooks will be much more informative about, as we do not have the time nor inclination to disuss it here), by producing an eerie sound, which they are known by.

The Thestrals have always been loyal to the Princess of the Night and have only recently become more well accepted in Equestrian society, as a result of her return. Still, there is much work to be done.

Contrary to popular belief, Thestrals commonly seek gainful employment, and usually do so through the so called "Dark Market," a parallel economy which employs the bulk of Thestral society, and involves, directly or indirectly, large portions of Equestrian society at large. By contracting Thestrals through the Dark Market, firms can ignore many employment regulations, and divert attention from their company if the activities performed are extralegal. Many a Thestral will tell you of how they or someone they know were forced to take the rap for a crime they committed in the service of an employer who got off scot-free by plausible deniability.

The Dark Market's actual activities range from simple manual labor in mines to the manufacture of weapons (often illicit) and the trade of controlled substances. This is a state of affairs which has developed as a result of prejudice on the part of common ponies, and neglect on the part of governing authorities. If Bat Ponies are to be meaningfully integrated into Equestrian society, the Dark Market must be dissolved.

Toffy Marble set down her quill, satisfied. She relaxed her neck from the strain of writing with a quill in her mouth. It had taken a lot of effort to get to this point, from scouring libraries to interviewing laborers, but it would soon all be worth it.

"Knowledge is power." She said to nopony in particular. Looking out the window of her annex of the tenement dwelling her family had near the docks, she saw something peculiar swooping through the midnight sky. A Thestral shrieking out its echolocation and carrying a bag overflowing with bits. Toffy had been so caught up in her work that she hadn't even noticed all of the commotion outside! Evidently, her father had, and he was gathering her little brothers into the annex and telling them to remain calm.

As she surveyed the situation, Toffy slowly got a sense of what was going on. The first Bat Pony she had seen was not the only one. Around a half-dozen were swarming around the nearby bank. One was huge, having almost fluorescent rose-pink wings and a dark grey coat. He carried two bags of stolen lucre in his front hooves, hugging them against his chest, and another in his mouth. His mane was fierce and wild, and a dull shade of pinkish-red. He flung the bag in his mouth down to another Thestral who was swooping under him, and the second caught it on his back. The towering one cried out another mighty shriek, screaming:

"The Forgotten Tribes will rise!"

II: The Great Dark Mark

Killjoy squealed with delight as he offloaded a bag filled with loot onto his compadre's back. He and six picked ponies had just picked over the Royal Bank of Manehattan, and were escaping to their headquarters. As he banked into the sky, flashing his grotesque sinewy wings for all to see, he saw the few ponies foalish enough to be out this late in this part of town recoiling in horror. He faintly heard screams, which had been sounding off ever since the improvised explosive device they'd planted had rocked downtown Manehattan, but they were largely drowned out by the whooping shrieks of his goons. As he gloried in his moment of triumph though, a mare caught his eye. A simple but elegant one, with blemish and beauty. As all the ponies around him either whooped for joy or screamed in terror, she was silent. She was staring at him.

"For many moons now we have plotted. Though many abandoned us when the Princess returned, the faithful remnant..." Killjoy paused and looked around, acknowledging everypony in the brashly firelit grotto, "remained true. We doubted that Luna's return would see the enfranchisement of our kind, and we were right." The fire illuminated his face even as the smoke from it trailed all around his massive stallion's form, obfuscating it somewhat. He paused again, for the dramatic gravitas of the moment, but found himself thinking again of that mare. Why had she been so puzzled? Surely she could just rationalize it as another Bat Pony criminal, right? No, she hadn't. She had seen the real him. Shaking off these troublesome thoughts, he continued his speech before the thirteen ponies who made up his organization.

"It is, and has always been our call, the call to action. We are ponies not of vain words, but great deeds." He spoke with a fire in him that rivalled the one burning before him. "Until now, our deeds were small, but today we have accrued the capital to expand our operations extensively." He paused again for a cheer to rise from the ranks of his ponies, and it did. "When I was barely a stallion, and I founded this solemn brotherhood with my kin and friends, we were reduced to provocative graffiti, petty theft and arson to get our point across. But we dreamed, and we knew that one day, targeted assassinations, bombings, and like today, bank heists, would be our fare." Another cheer went up, and he paused to allow it.

"It was that day, brothers, that I received my cutie mark," he flew up into the air, flying circles over the fire, just avoiding scraping his wings on the ceiling of the grotto. He pushed out his flank for all to see his cutie mark, a solar eclipse. "And so it was that day, that this organization was dubbed for it. The Great Dark Mark!" Everypony cheered loudly now, and he flew back down to his seat.

This speech had been important to rally the newer members, who had observed the heist of the Manehattan Royal Bank but not participated. They were conscripts, really. Fresh, but untested. They were also uneducated about the Mark's history, and that had now been rectified. Killjoy hefted two money bags, one in each front leg, and spilled them out around the fire. Bit coins had originally been made from pure gold, but with the return of Princess Luna, a durable gold-silver alloy had replaced it. The fire was bright and hot, but not enough to melt the newly minted treasure. He dumped two more bags in this way, and then, over the course of nearly a minute, twenty more. Nearly the entire floor of the grotto was covered. He addressed the assembled Thestrals and Snow Ponies again.

"Take of this share whatever be your need. We are professionals now. There is no need for side jobs unless they help our mission directly." The only mare in the cave, a Thestral single mother of three cheered loudest of all. Her cutie mark was a paintbrush covered in red paint, symbolizing her talent for using art to make bold statements. She had been working odd jobs as best she could, because in a town like Manehattan, only inoffensive art pays. She had been his most active participant by some measures and was jumping for joy at no longer needing to work herself to the bone to support her foals. Her name was Lilac. A Snow Pony stallion in the corner, who was the only one of his tribe in the Great Dark Mark, was called Victory. He was the strongest of the group, save perhaps Killjoy himself. His mark was a net full of fish. Fishing had been his occupation until recently, when cheaper workers had been brought to the docks from the countryside, following recent agricultural advances that saved labor. Victory had made it for some time as a dockworker, but it hadn't been the life for him, and he'd been subsisting on saved money for months now.

Killjoy thought of his brothers, his blood brothers, that was, as his comrades tossed about heaps of coins and showered each other in them. How Ecstasy and Gutfire would have loved to be here for him. Too bad they were instead serving lengthy, but pleasant sentences in the Equestrian criminal reform program. Killjoy would visit them, and update them on the situation on the ground as often as he could. They in turn, would update him on their efforts to establish a chapter of the Great Dark Mark in the prison system.

He spared one more thought before joining in on the whooping chorus that echoed out in the cavern. He spared a thought for that mysterious mare. Why had she been focusing so intently on him? Her eyes had been filled with so much. With curiosity, but not a morbid curiosity, with desire, which was something that frankly made Killjoy uncomfortable, and with, most confoundingly, understanding.

III: On Democracy

Toffy Marble thought over the previous day's events as she twirled her quill in her mouth. Why had that Thestral paused when he saw her? What were those hard-to-read emotions in his eyes? Why did that slogan he had called sound so familiar? The last question, at least, she was able to satisfactorily answer in time. It appeared to be a common graffiti slogan of Manehattan Thestrals who were disgruntled with the current order. Suddenly inspired, she put quill to paper, and began to write.

For the citizens of Manehattan, Trottingham, Vanhoover, and other cities which are more densly populated and less sanitized than the likes of Canterlot, graffiti is a common sight. This has become even more so as urban populations have swelled, and political tensions have heightened following the return of the Princess of the Night.

One of the more common sentiments expressed in political graffiti has been observed to be a feeling of betrayal by Princess Luna. Many Thestrals believed that her return would herald a new beginning for their kind, and a recognition of their status as a tribe of ponies. Aside from a few token concessions, like the inclusion of Thestrals within her guard, Luna was unable (or unwilling, many say) to affect meaningful change.

This brings us to this pamphlet's topic: Representative Government. A representative government is a revolutionary idea, as nopony has lived under one since before the ascension of the Princesses. Indeed, even the democracies which did exist in those days were often illiberal at best.

One might object to our assertion that nopony has ever lived under a truly representative government for thousands of years by pointing to municipalities which choose to elect a mayor. While this is indeed a great boon to the ponies of Equestria, it is not enough. The only officials we see elected tend to be those with cutie marks focused on organization and leadership, while common ponies may as well be excluded from political office. Beyond this, there is an ever-swelling class of bourgeois nobility and pseudo-nobility, especially in large cities, which have formed sprawling slums and suburbs filled with workponies in order to support the ruling class. Snow Ponies and Thestrals have been especially prominent in these tenement districts.

It is for this reason that we propose two documents to be outlined. FIrstly, a charter for the rights of all ponies, including the forgotten tribes. Second, a charter on the rights and duties of nobility.

The rights of all ponies must include freedom to speak critically of the government, freedom to peacefully assemble, freedom to vote in local government and run for local office, and freedom from compulsory service based on one's cutie mark.

The charter of the rights and duties of nobility is to outline firstly the procedure for stripping a house of its land and titles, and secondly, a duty for all nobles of age to complete, lasting at least ten years. Nobles will be compulsed to enter service in one of three branches. Equestria lacks diplomats, as the only ponies studied in rhetoric are the parasitic nobility and pseudo-nobility. As such, diplomatic office is to be one of these branches. The second, seeing as Equestria's guard formations lack an experienced officer cadre, ought to be ensign postings. The third should be a bureaucratic posting.

In this way, all ponies will have their rights protected, and all nobles will be made to serve their interests.

Toffy Marble set down her quill and folded up the parchment. She placed it into an envelope and brought it downstairs.

"Hey dad." She said, smiling like a filly. "I finished the second one!" Her father, one Snow Marble gazed approvingly at her, and took the envelope in his mouth. He set it down on a table so he could speak to his daughter.

"I'm proud of this project you've started. I'll just look this over, and then I'll send it off to the presses." The two nuzzled, and Toffy went outside.

Stepping outside, the chill of suburban Manehattan hit Toffy. She was going on one of her normal trotting routes, which led out of the city, and into the woods. It was a chill day, and the sky was gray, as it so often was here. Perhaps if democratic reforms could be instituted, the public could have a say in the operations of the weather patrol.

Lost in thought, she trotted, watching the tenement slums by the docks fade, giving way to a meagre industrial park, and finally, to tall, unkempt grass. She was not traveling along any major roads, as those areas were quite well manicured, but simply cutting through the sprawling city, and making exodus from it along an unbeaten path. Night began to fall once more.

Killjoy sprang from his upside-down sleeping position, taking flight within the confines of the narrow cave he dwelt in. The night air hit him full on as he exited the cave network, flying towards the embrace of the sky. One day, when he was but a colt, he had tried to journey all the way to the stars. He'd passed out after getting so high he could hardly breathe, and then regained consciousness just soon enough to control his descent to the ground. His peers, who had always maligned him for his tribe, his coloration, and his verbose manner of speech had cheered him that day. He had relished in that praise, and strived to acquire more ever since.

As he rose into the sky above the outskirts of Manehattan, he thought again of those stars, how they had captivated him. It was auspicious that his cutie mark should be of that great star of Celestia, the sun, being eclipsed by darkness. In time, all of Equestria would fall into primal darkness indeed.

Killjoy realized that the air was getting thin, and was not eager to repeat the experiment of his colthood, so he leveled out and began to glide on his fleshy wings. He made a great circle all around the spires of downtown Manehattan, and surveyed that bank he had brokebn into the previous night. It was still a burnt-out ruin, of course. A pang of guilt struck him when he realized that ponies had died in that explosion. It was no help to the cause to worry though, so he banished it.

Sweeping over the suburban tenements by the docks, he saw the corridor through which he and his stallions had made their exodus of the city after the robbery. With curiosity, he wondered again of that mare who had watched him. Banishing that thought too, he flew out to the city limits, and kept going, back to the grotto from which he directed the Great Dark Mark. Then he saw her.