The hot winds blew through the savanna’s shimmering sea of grass and stroked Golden Lace's fine striped coat, relaxing her mind and calming her thoughts. The mare sighed in relief to rest in her favorite spot being able to reflect back on her day. A butterfly fluttered out of the tall yellow grass in front of her elegantly drifting in the breeze. It landed on her nose tickling her snout and she let out a giggle and blew it off. It landed on her nose again and she let out a sneeze and sent the butterfly up into the sky. Golden Lace stretched her legs and peered up at the lush Jackalberry tree she sat under, admiring its slim green leaves that gave shade to her tired body. The trunk was thick and sturdy with rough bark that bore a dark brown color. The tree grew deep into the ground with large and well established roots, one of which looked like a leg, sticking halfway out of the ground providing a rounded corner for the zebra to lay against.
Golden Lace was a zebra with elegant stripes and aquatic blue eyes that shimmered with joy. Around her neck were five gold rings that glimmered in the sun and shone like pearls; they matched the ones around her left leg. The rings symbolized a relationship with another, a way of showing her happiness and appreciation of her partner, a way of showing love. She wore them happily every day and they soon became her way of living. They were given to her by the one she loved most, the one that meant everything to her--Shadow Streak. When Shadow Streak gave these rings to Golden Lace he asked her for her eternal love, to be unified with her for the rest of their lives under the Jackalberry tree she rested by. Golden Lace knew only love for Shadow Streak, but that would change soon, for another zebra was soon to enter her life and take her love. She peered down at her belly that had grown quickly over the 13 moons she waited. The belly kicked. It was nearly time.
A deep strong voice spoke from behind her in the complicated language of Savannin that rolled off the tongue gently and precisely. "What should we name the child?" Golden Lace didn't look back, for she knew exactly who it was that spoke. The zebra flopped next to golden lace next to Golden Lace. His coat was a deep grey color that had stripes as black as night that defined his eye color of a deep orange. His ears were pierced with many different earrings that very quietly jingled when he walked. He had five golden rings around his neck that shimmered and reflected the sun’s rays like a mirror, they matched the ones around his left leg.
"I'm not sure," she said in Savannin. “Why not name it after your father?" she asked.
"No, that won’t do... something unique."
"My father?"
"Not that, the foal must be named something that none other shall bear."
A long silence ensued. It broke with shadow streaks voice "Zecora."
Author's Note
Hey guys!
Sorry if it takes me a little bit to get a chapter released I do try :)
The story is going to be a little more serious and hopefully be pretty long, like a novel and plan on implementing all sorts of different unanswered questions about Zecora from why she rhymes to her digging at the ground. Im always open to suggestions and improvements so don't be afraid to tell me whats wrong with it and I do love feedback so enjoy.
Thanks,
-Jeramiah
Chapter 1: In The Savannas
Chapter 1: In The Savannas
The zebra’s small hooves trotted along the dusty ground of the small village with excitement and joy. Her face held eager blue eyes and her mouth would have had a smile if she did not carry in her muzzle a basket full of Flame Lily. She was a small foal and had an adorable little face that gleamed with enjoyment and curiosity. The village she walked through was quite small. Many zebras went through their daily life of simple tasks as she passed along the huts and tents filled with a calm and friendly chatter through the savanna's quiet wind. The streets of the village were small dirt roads that had no specific pattern, for one could easily find their way around the small settlement. Some greeted her as she passed, others just smiled or nodded, but very few ignored her, for many knew the ambitious child (and it was quite a small town and everyone knew mostly everyone.) Other little fillies and colts ran down the dusty streets playing and basking in the sunny, hot day with not a worry in the world. Some she knew, others she didn't and most were her friends. “Hey Zecora! Wanna play tag with us?” One of the younger ones asked. She wished she could play but she was busy and had more important things to attend to. “I need to finish some stuff,” She answered sadly “I’m gonna finish up and be back later.”
Zecora traveled down the main street that passed through the center of the village. Ahead she could see the trading posts, where many accessories could be found from beaded necklaces to herbs and potions. Even zebras who traveled to distant lands would come and barter their goods they raided and scavenged from ruins of forgotten people, zebras who searched for ancient dwellings to dive into or ruthless mountains to discover in hope of earning enough money to continue their adventures and glorious life. It took a particular attitude to own such a job. It required no guidelines or specific talents but rather a fierce tolerance and a knack for danger. Zecora had thought of such a life and sometimes envied the escape from peace but, only sometimes and had more often than not feared it and preferred the one she owned.
She passed through happily, admiring the zebras who presented glorious jewels and treasures to trade for scrolls and tapestries or food and livestock, things they may take home to feed their family and educate their young, things she loved. The trading post was one of her favorite places to travel through, for every day it contained new treasures scavenged from ruins or new clothing expertly sewn by talented zebras. Alchemists would present their bottles of bubbling brews and scented oils, scrolls of their discoveries and recipes for the finest treatments and cures, maps that guided adventurers to glorious sights through unbearable terrain with markings of dragon dwellings or ancient treasures. Others booths held masks and totems with various expressions and meanings that one might hang on a wall or center in a room.
Something caught the young filly’s eye as she wandered through the busy street. It was a booth full of jewelry with many styles and meanings. Many gems and artistic beads caught her eye and tempted her desires. she remembered what she was doing and continued on. Another booth she noticed sold packs that slung over her back and made it easier to carry food and supplies over long distances. They were embroiled with complicated patterns and colors that symbolized many things like enjoyment or knowledge. Zecora might have found one of these useful in her current situation but it wasn't a requirement at the time. Next to that one was another full of carvings, many of animals but some of charms and sigils. All of these interested her but none of them were what she sought.
Near the end of the dusty road was a distant post with a tall and scrawny stag managing it. He had many piercings that shimmered brightly in the reflection of the suns rays and his face held one of curiosity and wonder like he saw interest in the average every day procedures. The stag was the kind of person you would expect to have sad background or maybe mysterious relationships but his expression and enjoyment seemed to tell otherwise. As the little filly aproched his confusion was gone and his skepticism started to show.
Various types of flowers and leaves were dried and hung from the frame of the cloth that roofed the stand. There on the table sat bottles of saps and oils with fragrant smells soothing her thoughts and tickling her nose. Various types of bark were displayed and held many shades of grey and brown, some also holding a smell of potent spice. The foal recognized many of the different types of ingredients but was lost at some, for many were from far away terrain with different climates, able to grow more lush and bright colored plants. The savannas were teaming with wildlife but held much less herbs and lively ingredients. Many tents were full of treasures and supplies but one could not begin to explain the amount of goods the tent stored! Every shelf and table was filled with all sorts of dried herbs and incense. Jars were packed like a puzzle or a pile and scrolls were overflowing out of chests and boxes. The shopkeeper had to step over top of all sorts of books and candles but from the looks of it had seemed to memorize a course he could trail without flaw, casually striding over so many treasures of which others would trip and fall. The booth was quite large for the stag lived with in a large tent behind the display counter but, it would almost not seem that way for the small view one may see from the open flap of the tent had shown a small sleeping roll but piles and shelves full of all sorts of jars and cloths. From the top of the tent hung many bones and beads strung up that would click and jingle as he passed through them. The young filly knew they were wards and charms that protected his tent and influenced his work.
"You come to my tent kin... but what is it a girl like you seeks?" the shopper questioned. The filly a few seconds later snapped out of her wonder of the glorious shop and set down her basket full of Flame Lily.
"Do you sell mint leaf?" she asked in a happy little voice.
"Why yes I do." He answered as he swung around to stick his head under one of blankets that covered the table and draped to the floor. He rummaged around tell he brought out a jar full of greyish green leaves. “Mint leaves... Not commonly used, seems to be more of a... weak herb wouldn't you say?” The odd zebra questioned in a mysterious manner. “Well thats what I need.” Zecora defended. He spoke again. “Ha ha ha! Is it? Why?”
“Cause thats what I was told.”
“eeh... what you were... told?” He spoke, squinting in disgust.
“Yeah”
“Young girl, do you know what alchemy is?”
“Yeah I do! Its when stuff is mixed together to make medicine!” Zecora replied superiorly. The shopkeeper busted up laughing. Zecora felt insulted, humiliated. She was sure she was right but the more he laughed the less and less she felt so sure. Was she wrong?! He gained to his sense quite quickly and resumed the conversation.
“Girl, alchemy is not simply... throwing things together and getting what you want. It is an art of energy and magic, used to take one path and merge it with another, making it available for use in a variety of possibilities depending on its energetical traits.”
“Can’t I just get my stuff?”
“Do you think I open my shop to any zebra? Only those who have an understanding of my particular merchandise. You know girl, an open mind is an important trait for an alchemist.” Zecora was confused by his tone. He was not angry nor was he rude, he had a tone filled with interest and enjoyment but still impolite, she felt.
"You've come to my booth in search of more I'm sure.”
“I thought you said mint leaves were weak? Aren't you going to suggest something else?”
“Mint leaves are not weak. Every herb has its purpose and all are equally strong and important. I was simply testing you.” He examined her basket and talked more quickly and less direct. “By the looks of that Flame lily, and you needing mint leaves I’m assuming you are using one to counteract the other. Not frost bite for you would need a much more potent ingredient than Flame lily to counteract the damage. Mint leaf is great for us on burns and the flame lily would be best to represent the minor damage....” He looked at her with curious eyes. “There would be one herb you would be missing for such a mix. Aloe Vera oil”
"Yeah! How did you know?"
"Ahh you see, my young filly
You mix a brew, one that I knew
First the mint leaf, to bring cold relief
Then the flame flower, to target burns power
And final you obtain, one not of terrain
The Aloe Vera oil, and bring it to a boil."
Many alchemists spoke in rhymes she remembered. They were not spoken in Savannin, the language she commonly talked in but, she knew exactly what he was saying to her. It helped young alchemists remember recipes and processes they would need. Usually they were taught them at a young age and were taught to only speak in rhymes some were talented enough to speak fluently but rarely without rhyme for it eventually became natural and it was like trying to forget how to walk. "Thanks for the herbs... kinda" she said reaching into a small pouch in the basket pulling out two gems and tossing them to the counter. The shopkeeper chuckled “No need for pay young child. You have reminded me of myself when I was young, and that, is plenty a payment for me.” His mouth smiled widely and the gems, Zecora found were being slid back into her pouch. Her eyes grew wide and surprised “Are you sure?” He nodded. “Thanks alot!” She gathered her herbs and turned to trot off but the man spoke again. "A zebra of your age commonly does not interest herself in such arts. You are a rare type my young child, may I see you again." At that the young child left eager for her completion of her task.
Author's Note
Hey Guys!
The first chapters out! I'll have the second one out pretty soon and I hope you enjoy what I wrote. any suggestions or possible incorporation I encourage, don't be afraid to criticize I love the feed back.
Chapter 2: Bubbly Brewing
Zalika reached up to the top of her shelf to clamp her jaws on the jar she was looking for. It was small and had a deep orange liquid sloshing around as she pulled it out of its hiding place. The mare set it upon the counter behind her and searched the shelves again. There were many medicines and treatments stacked and packed on the shelves along with books and scrolls containing information and instructions on treatments and mixtures for illnesses, wounds, broken teeth, you name it. Zalika rarely referred to the medical books for she could treat almost anything that she encountered off the top of her head. After a few moments of inspecting she reached up and pulled out a bag made of light muslin fabric which she placed it next to the jar of oil.
A little colt sat on the other side of the counter holding his shoulder. He was small and had vibrant green eyes that watered. His coat was covered in stripes, like all other zebras but were abnormally defined with a deep, deep black shade and a very bright white coat. In the right light it would almost look like his stripes were glowing black. Zalika was much taller than the young zebra, almost twice his size. Her eyes were purple and they had stripes that streamed down to her cheek. Her ears that were full of piercing with golden loops and small stubs, her tail was dreaded and laced with beads and coins. She had rings around her neck but they were silvery and gleamed very brightly. They did not symbolize relationship like the gold ones but rather the symbolization of a healer or shaman, zebras that were rare among their people but cherished and respected.
Zalika opened the muslin bag and pulled out the dull brown moss that seemed very dry and wrinkled. She set it down and opened the small jar of oil and a smell seemed to burst. It was deep, earthy, and nutty with a light note of weirdness that was hard to place. The potency was strong and overpowered all of the many surrounding smells in the hut. The foal cringed at the scent "Ugh something that smells that bad can’t be good!" Zalika chuckled and spoke but in Savannin "Many do not like the smell of Tamanu, but its effects are many and outweigh the off putting smell." The mare clamped her jaws on the jar and poured it on the moss. Almost unrealistically it absorbed every drop without a problem. Zalika stepped out from behind the counter and trotted over the side of the hut that had a lot more shelves and various materials. One had all sorts of cloths and sponges. She grabbed a roll of gauze and trotted back to the counter were the colt sat speaking while in the rhyming language.
"The Sphagnum moss is like a sponge,
And in Tamanu oil it will plunge.
The Tamanu oil shall reduce the pain,
But its effects shall soon wane."
The zebra scooped up the soaked moss and moved the colts hoof. There was a big painful burn that covered his shoulder and had badly soared. Zalika was surprised the young zebra was as calm as he was knowing it must have hurt very badly. He winced as she placed it softly on the burn and rapped the colts arm tightly in the stretchy fabric.
The gorgeously sewn blanket that neatly hung from the entrance flipped up as a young zebra entered carrying lots of flowers and herbs. Zalika finished tying the bandage "Ahh Zecora, I take it you have the things I asked for?" the young filly placed the basket to the side and grinned. "Yup!" she giggled at the sight of the injured colt. "I wouldn't need to if someone knew what they were doing."
"Hey! You wouldn't be laughing if this happened to you!"
"But it won't." She said to the injured zebra
"You're such a goodie four shoes!"
"Well you as thick as a rhino!"
"Children!" Zalika shouted! "You may choose to fight, or see the good in Stripe Striders mishap."
"Yeah, Zecora-.... Wait good?”
“Sometimes the big mistakes in life are the most important, without them how would you learn your hardest lessons? Rather than teer and cry be grateful it happened.”
. . .
Zalika stirred the boiling water in the small cauldron. It sat on a metal frame placed on a block of stone that had been carved inward to create a stove top were coals and wood could be held and lit. The fire blazed strongly and the amber glowed heating the zebras. The shaman reached into the basket of herbs and pulled out a mouth full of mint leaf, tossing it into the large bowl while making motions with her hooves. Green shimmering smoke arose then swirled mysteriously and the boiling water turned blue. She spoke not of Savannin.
"Now listen here my learning foals,
To what I show you upon these coals.
The ways of zebra most won’t accept,
But only by those not as adept.
They'll come with fear,
And full of hostility
But don't shed tear,
And maintain civility.
They are not your enemy,
Those not of alchemy.
Show them your ways of heal,
And if they reject you, that's their ordeal."
She continued to stir the bubbling blue liquid then snatched the Fire lily to toss it into the cauldron and it turned the boiling mixture purple. It started to steam and filled the room with a spicy mint aroma.
"To cure a burn from fire,
There are herbs you must acquire.
Some far away
Some closer, they lay
First the mint leaf,
To bring cold relief
Then the flame flower,
To target burns power”
She grabbed a bottle and poured it in the mixture
And final you obtain,
One not of terrain
The Aloe Vera oil,
And bring it to a boil.
The mixture lightly subsided but continued to steam. Zecora spoke in Savannin "That's the same rhyme that the zebra at the market said!"
"Yes it is a well-known one for, burns are common. Remember it, and it may come in handy." The shaman trotted around to the front of the hut where the shelves were and snatched a bottle from a large chest then returned. She dipped her hoof in the steaming liquid and the young zebras gasped expecting her to pull a swollen hoof from the seemingly blazing hot liquid but without a flinch. She pulled her hoof out completely unharmed and holding a full bottle chuckling "Do not fret young fillies. The brew is to cure a burn, not to inflict one. What you see is not steam but magical vapor. Now young Stripe Strider, drink up." The colt was hesitant but bit the tip of the bottle and guzzled it down. He set the bottle down and coughed then shivered shaking his head. "Ugh! Talk about a rush!"
“Maybe your stupidity is taking its effect.” Zecora rudely giggled
“I think I'm having withdrawal from your face!” Zalika glared angrily at them both and contained the urge to burst.
"Medicine is not known for taste. Its effects should work quickly." The colt started to jitter as it coursed down his throat and his belly started to feel a tingly cold sensation. The liquid surprised the filly, for it was icy cold without a sense of warmth and had just came off a blazing fire.
"Uhhhh hu! I-is-s it me or did it just get c-colder in here?"
"The side effects aren't as pleasant, but after some time they shall subside."
"H-hey uh-h, I h-hate-t to be the one who-o breaks it t-to you but I-I think y-your f-f-fire is broken."
Zecora slapped her hoof to her forehead "You ostrich brained gazelle! You can't break a fire!"
"My dad broke a-a f-fire once!"
"You are such a liar!"
"Children! There is no need to fight, heat will not work with the magic’s chill for it is unnatural." Zalika interrupted
"Ha! Told you so!"
"Shut up eg-g head!"
"All of you!" Zalika once again shouted. "You are here to learn. If you choose not too you should leave." The mare paused for results. She was growing very impatient and the young zebras were pushing their limits. "That's what I thought now, it is getting late and we haven't even started our next lesson. We have a lot of catching up and the next lesson is on culture, one of our biggest subjects! Clean up and we shall start." The small zebras moaned and sighed "Come on Zalika, what about the magic? We haven't even talked about it, just things like animals or bugs." Zecora complained. "Shamans are not performers!" She snapped
"But-"
"No buts! Everything I teach has its purpose whether its the taste of dirt or the color of the sky. Now... I want you to clean up this mess and we shall start the next lesson, it is a long and you will need to study. Am I clear?"
Both zebras nodded and started to clean without a word. Wow, Zecora thought. Another six hours on history and life! Why couldn't they just start making cool brews like their mentor and stop traveling around town for her errands, constantly dancing around the big picture... Magic. She was growing very impatient and her short attention span was biting at her every minute, wanting to know more about alchemy and not being able to get any chance to use it at all.
After they bottled the rest of the brew, labeled them and tidy up the small room in the hut they had cooked in it was time to sit down and torture themselves through another one of Zalika's lectures on zebra this and zebra that, ooh look at this pretty grain of dirt! Lets learn how dirt is made! Stripe Strider was in a sour and cold mood. His tolerance was well gone and sitting his rump on the dusty cloth in the front of the brewing room for yet another lesson was not all too motivating. He was bored.
“ Yes, yes I can see you're all very ‘excited’ to be here.” Zalika announced in front of the drowsy pupils. “Well, you better wake up because this lesson is the most interesting one yet. Any of you guys heard of a Pony before?” She was more intrigued than usual at the mention of the word pony. “Oooh!” Stripe Strider excitedly added with a large grin on his face. “I bet its some breed of DIRT!” Zalika's happy expression at the Stripe Strider's misread sarcasm dropped into anger. “I can’t wait to get started...” He finished in a bored and rude tone, slouching back down. Zecora failed to hide her laughter. “You think this is FUNNY!?” Zecora stopped with timid wide eyes. “All you do is complain about not learning about magic and now that I mention a type of people that revolve their whole lives around it you mock me!” Both zebras eyes grew in excitement “Ha ha ha ha, Yes that's what I thought... lesson over!” She sneered.
“What!?!” Stripe Strider hollered. “We weren't on the mat for more than a minute and were DONE!?”
“Oh I’m sorry, did you suddenly gain interest in my lessons? Consequences are tough aren't they? Maybe you’ll hold your tongue next time you speak.”
The fillies left the room huffing and puffing with anger and disappointment and the mentor laughed at her accomplishment successfully teaching the lesson without a mishap. Not one single thing had went wrong, just as she predicted.
