Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I have a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally.
9th of July, Africanter, 1623
The village sat, quiet. The mares gathered water atop their heads, with one hoof placed around the woven basket. They walked up the dirt path, their striped flanks beaded with sweat. The sun was beating down in waves, like a rainfall in April. Woven huts dotted the plain-like area. A stallion with a gruff expression paced outside a hut, waiting for his mare; who was expecting much. She had been in labor for over 3 hours, screaming in agony. Helpers dashed in and out of the hut, gathering herbs and rags, even woven baskets full of crystal water. The stallion was riddled with anxiety, beads of sweat dripping off his forehead as the Africanter sun baked him.
A loud shriek filled the air, and the stallion perked his ears; breathing heavy. A caretaker poked her head out of the hut, and nodded with a small smile. The stallion let out a sigh of relief, and trotted into the hut. He saw two young zebras in the mother's cradle. He grinned, and patted their heads.
"A colt, Touko! And, a filly. . ." The stallion studied the small mare, her teal eyes beamed up at him. She cooed and reached for him, her hooves stretched high like the branches of a tree.
"Ah. . . I shall name them under the stars tonight. For now, it is colt and filly." The mother smiled and nuzzled her husband.
That night, the stallion took his two foals in hoof, which was quite difficult. He took them to a top of a barren hill. The stallion set the colt down, making sure his tightly wrapped rags didn't create a mess. He held the filly up to the stars.
"Behold, the only think greater than yourself, Zecora."
The small filly stirred, and reached for the stars, her eyes sparkling as the balls of gas floated in the night sky. He set his filly down with care, and reached for his son; repeating the ritual. He named his son Taako. After the rituals, he sauntered back down the hill into the dimly lit village, settling down for the night. Now aware of the capture of half of his civilization the next morning.
10th of July, Africanter, 1623
The morning was quiet, as the sun rose and the mares tended to the water, gathering the cane by the bank, and also water. They followed the same paths, as the stallions worked in their fields, cutting down the grains and such. They watched the mares bring the cane and water, bearing the village's needs. Everything was normal, every pony knew their business in the life of the village. The father of Zecora and Taako sent them out to capture a hunt for a feast. He also sent another mare, who was trustworthy to his son and daughter. The three set out, walking through the thick banded forest.
Taako trotted forward, telling the two mares he'd scout a head, seeing if much prey was out. He galloped through the bushes, leaving the two to talk amongst themselves, about the crops and Zecora's father, thinking about finding a stallion of their own soon. Suddenly, Taako burst through the bushes with a shortage of breath.
"Strange creatures! Odd colors!" He gasped, sweat dripping from his striped forehead. The mares glanced at eachother and guffawed. Taako flushed with rage and protested they come with him their selves. Believing he was making the story up, then followed the stallion nito a thicket, where he pulled the branches away to reveal strange creatures caging other zebras, and putting locks around their necks.
"Firespark! Ah, we've been cagin' up some ziggers here. Ready to ah'sell at the auction." The pony who was presumably Firespark grinned, and nodded.
"Good, they'll make fine slaves. Hah, Zegroes." The two laughed as they walked around, checking the zebras in locks.
Zecora scrunched her muzzle and ran back to the village. A distant shrieking filling her ears. She felt faint, and burst through the bushes, pinned down by two foul smelling ponies. They locked her neck with a big metal ring, and threw her over into a pile of her kin, who were standing, but tightly packed. Taako and their friend were captured also, and thrown into the crowd. The creatures yelled at them with harsh, impulsive smelling voices.
"You ZIGGERS will be transported to the South! There, you'll be sold to slave-owners!" This is all they said, screaming into the faces of the Zebras.
Everyone was in chaos, wondering why they're being stripped from their home, and taken from all they've known. The strange ponies took out thick leather whips and began to beat the Zebras, shouting for them to move on, and follow the others in front. The zebras began to walk on slowly, the whips gaining sharp pains on their flanks and lower backs, some even groaned in pain, but these strangers forced them on, as they boarded ships and were packed into the slave gulley.
Once the ships began to move, Zecora and Taako had a bad feeling. What would become of them and their friend? Especially. . . the other Zebras. They were kept here day and night, in sort of a crawling position, but squatting. No one was allowed to turn, look up, or do anything that involved a large amount of movement. You could turn your head a bit, but you couldn't speak to others either.
12th of July, Ponyville, South; 1623
Today the Zegroes were going to the auction block, to be sold and paid for. They were like property. A chair, or a table, which would be sold over and over. The ponies that took them from their home got meat skin and painted the grease around their lips, and fed them well. They wanted the zebras to look healthy so a good trader would come along and buy, hopefully paying a months worth of bits. Zecora, her brother and their friend were put on separate areas, but luckily, were all bought by the same stallion; John H. Hilton. Yes a weird name, but anything's possible. They had to walk to the plantation, sleeping in unprotected woods while nearing their destination. After what seemed an eternity, the plantation came into view.
While the owner rode in a buggy, the zebras walked, with cuffs around their hooves. Since only three were bought, it was easier to maneuver. The "parade" neared the plantation, and other zebras game into view, picking cotton and other plants. Once around a turn, and near a house, the money bag John got out, and took the cuffs off. He told the three;
"OK, you will work with your other fellow ziggers. You will pick the cotton, the grain, feed the cows, the chickens, and so on. You may go mingle now, but if you do it overtime; I'll whup ya!" He laughed, his bulbous belly shaking as he sauntered into his grand house.
Taako and Zecora perked their ears, and a flood of other Zebras came towards them, studying them all.
"What's yah name?" a dark gray one inquired, focusing her soft gaze to Zecora.
"Zecora." She replied shyly.
"How about I call you Zebbie for short? I'm Missy!" she smiled. Taako was nicknamed Tay, and their friend Troye. They thought it was beautiful for a mare. They all showed the new zebras around, and a small filly gave her purple scarf to Troye, who thanked her for the gift.
Not soon after, they had to begin work, which was picking the cotton, milking the cows and cutting the grain. Cotton was a big plant that every plantation had, huge fields that were as wide as the eye could see. Though, the Zebras didn't know this. They weren't allowed to learn much, only that they were born to be slaves of the rich. Zecora, Taako, and Troye got used to the work, like it was natural life, but something wasn't right one warm July evening. John called Troye up to a shack where she slept, and closed the door.
The lantern dimmed, and strange screaming noises emitted from the small house. Zebbie was becoming worried for her friend's sake. Inside this shack, was something repulsive going on. John, a stallion of 3 foals, was impregnating Troye on purpose, who was only 15 at the time; underaged to even go into labor. This repulsive stallion did this because he liked to seed fine zigger mares, as he says. That man was disgusting, grotesque and painful to Troye.
13th of July, Southern Ponyville; 1623
That morning, Aunt Cassy; one of the elder mares was caring for Troye, who was destroyed. Her love glands were in pain, and she felt like she was being murdered that night. Cassy told her that;
"...zigger mares were expected of this, to some owners who were stallions. They'd seed them because they was fine," she'd say. That day, Troye was in a bundle of pain, and couldn't work. She spent the day in her bed, with Cassy dampening her forehead and tending to her "wounds".
That day, Zecora was called to the shack she slept in, and the door closed. Lanterns dimmed, and John told her he was going to seed her. The mare refused to touch him. John growled, and snapped at her.
"Now, your zigger friend cooperated." Zecora frowned,
"Maybe because she didn't know what was going on, mister John." Zebbie rarely talked in rhyme, but it became a habit.
John had to do this by force, so he pinned the helpless mare down and began to seed. He always did this to "fine" mares. It was aggravating. Cassy had to take Zecora into care also, which both now had to stay off of the work fields; to recuperate from John's seeding.
Zecora wondered how Tay was doing, or Taako. The first few days had went wrong with Troye and Zecora. Already given the pain of birth at an under age. Zebbie began to feel this wasn't normal. . . there was something wrong here.
Zebras shouldn't be slaves to creatures like this.
It isn't right, she just knew it.
Author's Note
I hope I'm not being racist posting this type of content. I just was curious. Chapter 2 will be longer.
I plan to make this a long length book-ish. If school won't poke me in the ribs and throw HW into my face.
I'm thinking about making the story from a perspective of Troye, in her eyes, as in 1st person. It's just a thought.
