The Everfree Forest; a place that some ponies fear and most avoid without good reason. A realm of unnatural magic and unknown forces that twists the forest to its own will and not even the magic of the Princesses of Equestria can control. Wild beasts roam its dark corners and even the plant life itself seems to have a mind of its own. Why then would anypony go there, let alone live there?
And yet for one pony, or rather one zebra, it was a home away from home; a reminder of a land long lost to her. For Zecora the Everfree Forest was much more than it seemed and for that she would always be grateful.
But what, you might ask, was a zebra doing so far from their homeland of Zebrica? Indeed it was true that zebras tended to be nomadic, moving from place to place along the great plains of their homeland…but they tended not to leave the borders of their land and rarely did they travel alone. In fact they were so rarely seen in neighbouring countries that many ponies of the world didn’t even know what they looked like.
For Zecora this had been the sad truth and fear had surrounded her arrival in Ponyville all those years ago. Still that was all water under the bridge and Zecora was now a frequent sight in the quiet little town now. But even despite this she missed her home and would have given anything to return to it…but for Zecora that was one wish she knew would never come true.
A tear formed in the corner of her eye as she remembered the events leading up to her departure. One little mistake, a mistake that should never have happened…a mistake that even if she was forgiven and welcomed back to her home, her heart would never be able to forget. The rules of the plains were very strict on such events and there was only ever one punishment for her crimes.
Zecora quickly stifled her tears and turned her attention back to the potion she was crafting. It had been her emotions that had caused her mistake all those years ago…she couldn’t allow them to do it again. Carefully she mashed up the green berries in her pot, expertly separating the seeds and discarding them. Despite this she paused for a moment to check the pulped up mass of fruit for more…even a single seed left in the mixture could be disastrous.
Next she transferred the pulp to a bowl of simmering water. As the fruit hit the surface it began to froth, the fruit instantly reacting to the water as the water itself began to turn a pale green colour. She watched the mixture simmer for a while and then quickly pulled it from the heat, dunking the pan into cold water to cool it and then pouring the liquid into another container through a sieve.
The new liquid was a light yet vibrant green colour that seemed to sparkle with its own radiance. Zecora though wasted no time in flaking a number of dried leaves into the mix and watching as it turned a golden brown colour. She gave a small sigh of relief; all that was left to do now was to boil off the liquid.
Returning the mixture to the stove she set it simmering slowly as she looked around the room. Her vision roamed across the various artefacts scattered around the walls. Each mask, jar and pot had been lovingly replicated by herself over the years to mimic those she had been forced to leave behind. There was only one item in the room that was an original, a single mask that hung in the centre of the far wall. It was much cruder than the others that decorated the walls, its creator evidently not as skilled as Zecora in the ways of crafting, and yet it held more memories than anything else in the room.
How could she have let it happen? How could she have been so careless? A moment of daydreaming had sealed not only her fate but the fate of him too. She could still remember his face; his pleading eyes crying out for help, his dry tongue lapping aimlessly at thin air…his shaking hooves clinging to her coat as realisation crossed her face.
It shouldn’t have happened like that! It was supposed to be a blessed occasion, a union of two hearts that would stand the test of time and lead her tribe to prosperity. But most of all it was supposed to have been a commitment between two who loved each other and had vowed to spend ever last living moment they had together.
She had already accepted her fate long before the verdict came from the tribe elders. It hadn’t been intentional and yet she couldn’t undo what she had done…banishment was the only response to such events. But it wasn’t the banishment that hurt the most…it was the fact that the one she had loved and had sworn to live and die for…had been killed by her own hoof. Killed by one absent minded moment and a dash of the wrong tree pollen.
Her eyes darted back to her simmering mixture. The water had boiled off now and the dried remains of the leaves she had added starting to crisp slightly in the pan. With haste she pulled it from the stove and tipped the dried leaves onto a small cloth pouch. She studied them carefully for a moment before giving a nod and pulling back. It was acceptable, perhaps a little over dried but it wouldn’t affect the end result.
Paranoia…it was something that Zecora battled with daily. It had been her own brew that had caused all her pain and yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop. She was a master at her craft, a zebra that had been noted as being a powerful healer and mixer of potions not only her own tribe but others as well. None had praised her craft more than him…no, that was a lie…there was one other.
Zecora cast her eyes back at the dried leaves. It wasn’t much but there was indeed one other being that showed genuine appreciation and wonder at her craft. At first Zecora had been a little suspicious of her words, she herself was powerful and knowledgeable too…but her words weren’t false and with each visit Zecora had found herself feeling more and more at ease.
Even now with her new role in Equestrian society she came by every week to sit and talk with her. Many times she had suggested that Zecora should move to Ponyville but each time the zebra had refused to which the pony had only nodded in understanding. Not once had she asked why, not once had she pried into Zecora’s life or sought reason to why she was here. Given this pony’s nature that in itself was an impressive feat.
One day she would tell her, one day she would have to shed light on her past and the dreadful sins she carried on her shoulders. But for now both of them were comfortable in each other’s presence. Zecora was hesitant to wonder if there was more than simple friendship holding them together, she herself had to admit that she felt more than a simple feelings emanating from herself. And yet if those feelings were reciprocated would she be able to accept them? Would she be able to put aside the fear and sadness that haunted her mind…and would she be able to finally tell the full truth about her life? No, for now it was simply friendship…for now…
A sudden knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She turned just in time to see the door opening and a purple coloured pony walking into her home. She wore a smile as bright as the sun and despite the wings and horn that were evident on her body she looked more down to Equestria than any other pony in town.
“Hello Zecora, just stopped by to pick up my favourite tea, is it ready?” she asked merrily.
“That it is my dear princess, do forgive the room, it is quite a mess,” replied Zecora in a musical tone.
“That’s alright, you should see my library…Spike filed a few books in the wrong place and I had to rearrange the whole place…then I got called away to Canterlot and never got it finished, there are books everywhere!”
Zecora smiled to herself as she started to wrap up the dried leaves in a neat parcel.
“A messy home can be quite a sight, although I’m sure that you can put it right,” she replied as she handed the parcel to Twilight, “But at least tell me you can stay a few, it has been some time since I last saw you.”
“Of course, there is so much we need to catch up on…and your herbal tea is simply amazing.”
Zecora gave a small sigh…maybe one day…
