Rainbow Dash was assaulted with the overpowering scent of exotic herbs as she entered the store. Outside, the world smelled of pizza, baked goods, gasoline, wild grass, and dog fur, all merged together into one sensory cacophony. Inside, everything seemed to host the thick balm of unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant, perfume. Rainbow Dash felt as if she'd stepped over the threshold into a foreign country, rather than stepped off the street and into a secluded little shop.
“Excuse me, dear child, but I sense from you great distress. Would you care to tell me of this mess?”
Rainbow Dash jumped, her gaze leaping from the patterned quilts on the opposite wall to the source of the voice. She could not blame herself for believing she was alone. She hadn't even been certain the store was open before she entered, as the windows were covered from the inside. The only sources of light originated from lanterns mounted on various walls, the flames dancing teasingly over the various wares for sell. She realized that the effect would have been eerie in any other place, yet in this store it gave her an uncommon sense of comfort. It was from one of the few completely dark corners of the room that the voice came from and, as she turned in surprise, a speaker detached herself from the veil.
The speaker was a tall, beautiful African-American woman clothed in a long, flowing red gown. Her hair resembled that of a zebra, short on either side with a mohawk-esque formation cutting through the middle. Her eyes were friendly, brimming with knowledge and motherly affection. Out of all the lovely smells in the store, the best of them originated from her: The scent of freshly-baked bread containing many exotic spices.
“So-sorry to....bother you,” Rainbow Dash stuttered, blushing.
Clearly someone in a store that is open for business expects to be bothered. But something about this woman made her feel as if she should apologize, whether it made sense or not. As someone who did not hand out apologies with ease in the first place, Rainbow Dash was astonished at the effect this person she had never met before was having on her.
The woman laughed, an amiable chuckle.
“Bother me? You have not disturbed me at all. As you can see, the customers have not yet begun to call.”
Seeing as it was quite late in the afternoon, Rainbow Dash wondered if this was a slow day or if customers simply didn't call. She couldn't see it being the latter, for she thought the shop was far too interesting for any sane human being to pass up. It was so incredibly out of place, squashed between a tattoo parlor and a discount clothing venue. A place entitled “Curios”, the sign composed in elegant, sweeping letters reminiscent of calligraphy, seemed the black sheep of the family.
“I-I was kind of looking for......,” Rainbow Dash began reluctantly.
But the woman did not allow her to complete the sentence. She nodded as if she understood at once. She then strode over to one of the numerous shelves lining the walls. This particular shelf contained many small urns with chaotically twisting patterns along their surfaces. The woman chose one of the tiniest of the items and examined it. Satisfied that it was free of tampering or unsightly filth, she walked to the counter and placed the item upon its surface.
Rainbow Dash came forward curiously, her eyes on the mysterious urn and her mind ignorant of its contents. Even she could appreciate the beauty of the urn's design. Perhaps it was because it successfully portrayed a side of her she had always loved passionately: Her athletic side. To her, the randomly twisting lines and swirls represented race tracks that went nowhere and obstacles too treacherous for those faint of heart to attempt. She could see herself in this urn, braving the dangerous whims of the world's most rebellious obstacle course.
“How much?” she breathed.
She hadn't bothered to ask what, if anything, was within the urn. The interior was of little consequence to her. She was determined to purchase this work of art, be it filled with snakes or filled with air.
“It is not the urn itself you require. Within it is your secret desire.”
The woman beckoned Rainbow Dash closer, inviting her to gaze into the urn herself. A multitude of bracelets across her arm jangled at the movement.
“You wear your wants on your sleeve, like many of your type. Zecora knows you want to be the best in everything you attempt. For calming you down and enhancing your skills, the time is ripe. Otherwise the hand of failure surely will tempt.”
The mixture inside the urn gave off the strong aroma of cinnamon and vanilla, blended with a completely alien scent. This alien scent reminded Rainbow Dash of one she knew all too well: Sweat. It wasn't an aroma she liked, nor was it one she abhorred. As someone who exercised frequently, competed in several sports competitions, and jogged every morning prior to breakfast, she was used to this smell. It gave her a sort of comfort, as if everything in the world was only in place if she was sweating.
“Uh, so what is it?” Rainbow Dash inquired, regaining her composure.
“Confidence is not an emotion, as most people seem to confuse. It can be made into any form man wishes to choose.”
That hardly answered the question, but Rainbow Dash was oddly infatuated by Zecora's peculiar way of speaking. She laughed, glancing uncomfortably at the urn.
“Confidence in a bottle. Great slogan.”
Zecora smiled. She quite liked this girl. She had always admired those with strength that extended past the body and into the very soul. But the admiration did not originate from the strength itself. It was the weaknesses that came out so readily when appropriately coaxed. People of Rainbow Dash's type reminded her of the fact that even the most resilient to cruelty or misery were still human.
“You suspect I am deceiving you in a way you cannot defend. But I promise I am not giving you something illegal or anything to that end.”
Rainbow Dash blushed. It appeared this woman was skilled at reading her mind. Normally she would have been unsettled or even wrathful to know someone was invading her thoughts, but this woman was different. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Zecora to be able to peruse Rainbow Dash's mind akin to a novel.
“G-Great collection,” she stammered, uncomfortable. “Where'd you get all this stuff?”
She turned away, attempting to conceal her embarrassment far too late. She walked over to a nearby shelf and tried to engross herself in a jar, waiting for her cheeks to return to their normal hue. She could feel Zecora's eyes following her as she moved. The jar itself served as a good distraction for the girl. Nestled within it was the preserved corpse of a butterfly, its wings a true rainbow of colors. Rainbow Dash had never gazed upon such a wonderful miracle of nature. She would have suspected it to be a clever fake, but she doubted anything in Zecora's store was fake. Even the authenticity of a cherry-tinted tree branch on display did not strike her as something to question.
Zecora strode up beside her. She removed the jar from the shelf and held it up to her face, staring at Rainbow Dash through the glass. The effect, comical or simply disfiguring on some, was neither for Zecora. The beauty of her features remained present through the distorted glass.
“My travels have taken me to places that exist on the edges of your mind. And from each place I capture a little bit of the magic I find. These artifacts are my own and this collection is my life. I collect pain, I collect happiness, and I collect the last remnant of strife.”
She returned the jar to the shelf. Her flowing dress making a subtle whispering sound as she moved, she walked back to the counter.
Rainbow Dash surveyed the shop with more attention to detail. She noticed not only various jars, urns, paintings, and other things of that nature, but also clothing. Garments one would never find in a mainstream local fashion outlet. They were far too strange, too exotic, to appeal to most of today's leather-minded youth. But Rainbow Dash, even without Rarity's love of outfits, could appreciate them. She wandered over to examine a headdress that seemed to be made from the ocean itself. A gentle aqua in color, a veil of milky white descending from the back and two feathers, each a warm crimson, appearing to have been melded into the base itself by unknown means. Rainbow Dash lightly brushed her fingers against the veil. It was unnaturally light, as if made from the finest spider silk. Touching it gave Rainbow Dash the sensation of touching a breeze.
“How much?” she inquired breathlessly.
The price wasn't important. She would have bought it regardless.
Rainbow Dash stared at the headdress, her mind at a loss to explain its presence in her bedroom. Away from the shop, away from beautiful Zecora, away from the magical collection, she was considering the headdress as an actual item, an item she had taken from a store, for the very first time since her gaze had fallen on it. Torn away from the rest of the collection, she saw how ridiculously out of place it was in a bedroom filled with athletic equipment, sports memorabilia, and trophies. An invader in a world devoted to soccer, basketball, baseball, tennis, and a multitude of other athletic pursuits.
What was I thinking?! Was I thinking?
She hadn't even paid money for it, she realized. Zecora had refused any sort of payment, handing the item into the girl's willing hands with barely a word. Thoughts of the urn and its contents had been washed away by the headdress's beauty. But at present, Rainbow Dash was wondering if she had been hypnotized into purchasing a useless trinket. This seemed more suitable to Rarity's character, not the girl who paid little attention to clothes in general unless they were team uniforms.
Earlier, Rainbow Dash's father, Rainbow Blitz, had asked about the headdress. He had come upon it when, after a courteous knock, he opened the door to inform her that they were having Chinese take-out for dinner. His eyes, normally surveying the mess with distaste, were drawn at once to the room's newest addition. The words in his throat evaporated. He looked at the teenage girl lounging on the bed, eyebrow arched.
“Getting married?” he queried.
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes and groaned at the joke. Although, when her gaze wandered back to the headdress, she noticed that it did resemble an eccentric wedding veil. She wondered if Zecora had worn it at her wedding, if indeed there had ever been one. Her thoughts beginning to stray, she imagined how utterly breathtaking Zecora would appear in a wedding dress. She could picture the tall, attractive woman, attired in pristine white, the headdress upon her head, a bouquet of roses in her hands. Every man and woman in the vicinity, including the preacher, would be envious to the point of seething over Zecora's flawless beauty.
“Rainbow? Rainbow?”
Rainbow Dash was jolted into reality. She was lying casually on her bed, her father in the doorway and her idle gaze having drifted to the headdress.
“I just bought it,” she replied hastily. “I'll return it tomorrow.”
Her father appeared concerned. It wasn't normal for Rainbow Dash to simply drop off in that way, descending into her own thoughts in the middle of a conversation. He looked at the headdress, wondering of its effect. But his eyes told him nothing of significance. While he could admire its oddness, the deepness of its beauty alluded him. Only Rainbow Dash could see that far into its soul. He didn't mention the incident all through their admittedly carefree dinner.
Rainbow Dash knew she wouldn't be returning it. If indeed she returned to Zecora's shop, it would not be to give the headdress back to its rightful owner. It might have belonged among that exquisite collection, yet Rainbow Dash could not envision surrendering it. It truly was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen. She couldn't explain to herself the exact way, or ways, its beauty surpassed all others. It simply did and there was no more to it.
I'm going to keep it forever.
Rainbow Dash looked at the clock. 9 PM was rushing to greet her, she noticed. If she expected to be at practice early, she would have to sleep. Also, upon noticing the time, she realized that she had been staring at the headdress for over thirty minutes. Staring as if hypnotized and thinking of Zecora.
Yeah, I've lost it.
Rainbow Dash laughed, shaking her head at her own behavior. She was amused by the effect of a mere shop.
Ten minutes later, tucked into bed, her dreams altered to show her dark-skinned women in strange headdresses.
Rainbow Dash went immediately to Zecora's shop after school. As it was Friday, she was in no particular hurry to return home. Her father would be at work a bit later than usual, most likely coming back home around ten. Rainbow Dash would enjoy microwaving a frozen pizza and renting a decent horror movie, but for the time being she was not keen to face an empty house.
It was rare to find anyone within the general vicinity of the shop, but when Rainbow Dash approached she noticed three individuals around her own age, two girls and one boy, standing at the window as if attempting to peer inside. One of the girls, whom Rainbow vaguely recognized as one of the many students at Canterlot High, was holding something. However, as the distance between them closed, it became apparent that this group was not customers. The boy and the other girl, complete strangers to Rainbow, were glancing nervously over their shoulders.
Rainbow Dash froze, her eyes moving from the group to the window they were gathered around. When the first girl moved, she could see their handiwork in its entirety.
“Witch” was scrawled in bright red paint across the window. The word, for emphasis, was underlined twice and completed with an immense exclamation point which dwarfed the letters preceding it. Next to the words a round face, its eyes Xs and its mouth a frown, had been added, probably by another member of the group.
A monster reared its head in Rainbow's stomach. Abandoning the backpack slung casually over her shoulder, she charged forward with lightning in her eyes. Her rage was not only fueled by their actions, but also by their insolence. They dared perform this vandalism in the middle of the day, as if they thought no passerby would reprimand them, as if no authority would be summoned, as if Zecora herself would be too affected by their harshness to retaliate.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!”
The girls and boy turned at once to face the one who had shouted. Their startled faces beheld a young female sprinting towards them, her visage alive with the intent to maim. She was rather short and not too threatening in stature, but the undiluted rage clouding her features was sufficient to cause alarm. The male of the group, a whole head taller and far broader in the shoulders than Rainbow, stepped backward with an expression of fear. The girl holding the spray can was the first to flee, dropping the can as she darted away. The boy followed, shoving the girl aside as he ran away. Just seconds before she was to meet her doom, the final member of the group regained control of her terror-stricken legs and followed her two companions in their retreat.
“Get back here!” Rainbow screamed, her ire rising at their cowardice.
She seized the can of spray paint and hurled it toward the fleeing teenagers. It fell just short of hitting one of the girls. Clenching her fists, she was preparing to go after them and break each of their noses in turn when the door to the shop opened.
Zecora stood in the doorway, her face impassive. If she had been lured out by Rainbow's scream, she showed no adverse effect to it.
“They were vandalizing your window!” Rainbow Dash announced at once.
She pointed a finger, quivering with anger, at the culprits just before they vanished from sight. A part of her, although a part that was steadily dying as the minutes wore on, wanted to pass over the explanation and pursue the villains. Being outnumbered was of little consequence. She didn't mind experiencing a painful beating if she could deliver a worse one to return the favor. This would not be the first or second time in her life that philosophy had come into play.
Zecora glanced at her window, her expression mostly unchanging. She did not seem bothered to find it, as Rainbow Dash had stated, vandalized. Perhaps slightly surprised, but not bothered. She turned to the seething girl and spoke in that calming, deep voice of hers.
“Come inside, my dear Rainbow Dash, for tea and all you are inclined. I feel there is something on your mind.”
Speechless, Rainbow followed Zecora into the shop. She was led past the burdened shelves, the unique scents, the display cases, and the counter itself. Zecora took her into a back room, accessed by a door virtually invisible to those who did not know of it. The room was small, but Rainbow could not refer to it as “cramped”. If anything, it was a cozy room, occupied by two brown leather armchairs, a rug made from the skin of some unknown creature that resembled a furry insect, a coffee table made from glass the color of moonlight, and a portable stove for making tea. Rainbow Dash sat down in one of the armchairs and watched Zecora lift a steaming kettle from the stove.
“I do have something on my mind, but that's not important,” she uttered hastily. “Aren't you going to do something about those assholes who ruined your window?”
Zecora laughed, a sound as warm and sharp as a cup of morning coffee.
“Rainbow, you needn't be in such appall. Those were only children after all.”
The rainbow-haired girl snorted in contempt at the description, crossing her arms. She took the mug of tea offered to her with an expression of dislike.
“Children? Oh puh-leeze. They were my age, maybe even a little older. Definitely not kids.”
Zecora sat down across from the girl with her own tea. She closed her eyes and held the mug underneath her nose, inhaling the temperate fumes. She could smell lands in those fumes, places few people had ever dreamed could exist on this planet. And when she closed her eyes and absorbed the balm, she could see these lands as clearly as if she was there. A moment passed, then Zecora opened her eyes and smiled at Rainbow.
“They were children nonetheless. Their minds are too empty to warrant your aggress.”
Rainbow was not satisfied, but she sipped her tea and said nothing more about going after the vandals.
“Were they serious?” she uttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “Witch”? In this day and age? What is this, the 1920s?”
While Rainbow somewhat believed in magic, witchcraft was a completely different subject. Witchcraft, as it was understood in books and other media, was complicated potions, incantations, and old women chanting over bubbling cauldrons. She would be foolish to describe Zecora as anything of the sort and was shocked that such primitive labels still existed.
Zecora took a sip of her own tea. She could taste islands in this tea, isolated yet thriving. Islands that were miracles. Islands that could be found, but only if one was looking for them.
“You wanted to ask me about my travels, from places far to places wide. You wanted to know the secrets of this world you call “outside”.”
Rainbow Dash was yet again unnerved, but only for a second, about Zecora's ability to read her mind.
“Well, yeah,” she admitted with a shrug. “Where did you find all this cool stuff? I must really be flunking geography.”
“Where does one find any treasure, small or big? I only had to look. You only need the will to dig that cannot be found in any book.”
Rainbow was intrigued. She'd always considered adventurers, explorers, and such to be fictional characters meant to awe with tales of their fabricated exploits. The concept of traveling the world, collecting souvenirs from the farthest reaches of the oceans, seemed to only belong in novels about Daring Do, her favorite heroine. When she was younger, she had believed she could live that exact life when she grew up. Then she reached the age of thirteen and promptly abandoned her childish dream of being the next Daring Do. But Zecora was most certainly real and Rainbow could not even imagine doubting her words.
“Isn't that dangerous?” she pointed out excitedly. “I mean...aren't you constantly in danger, if you travel all over the world by yourself?”
Zecora's smile was slightly pained this time around, as if memories of past torment were coming back to her at the innocent question.
“You are the kind to always seek a thrill. But is it as fun when the danger is very much real?”
The answer, if it could be thought of as one, forced Rainbow to hesitate. Adventure flowed in her veins as hot as blood. She thought of danger as something not to avoid, but to actively pursue. Fighting off hordes of malevolent villains was her vision of an ideal day. However, Zecora's question had made her pause to think about this fantasy of hers.
“I can handle it,” she responded at last.
Zecora nodded, as if she had expected this answer and could not be bothered to object.
“Why do you travel by yourself, anyway?” inquired Rainbow Dash curiously. “Don't you have a boyfriend...or...or something?”
Blushing and flustered, she took a mighty gulp of her tea and nearly choked on it. Something about Zecora was effecting her in a way she both liked and hated. Speaking to her, being near her, was nothing like being in her soccer team's championship or taking a difficult test. If she had to make a comparison, it was more like having her first kiss under the bleachers after a basketball game. Awkward, rushed, but oddly nice as well. But this was only a light comparison, the best she could have done if asked. Spending time with this exotic, beautiful, enchanting woman was something she could never truly put into words.
Zecora shook her head.
“I travel alone because it is my want. What need have I for companionship to flaunt?”
Rainbow stared at her feet nervously. She reminded herself that she was a success in every sport she tried, praised by young and old alike, able to beat grown adults in races, and hailed as the best athlete at Canterlot High. For her to be this apprehensive over a mere conversation was foolish. In fact, the very first time she had asked someone on a date, she had gone directly to the point without hesitation. She hadn't even blushed or given any signs of being unsure. Therefore, it was ludicrous for her to be this way when she was only talking to Zecora.
“Do-doesn't it get...lonely?” she asked, her cheeks burning.
Zecora placed her tea mug on the coffee table. Her smile had vanished, leaving behind a look that, while still holding warmth, was not quite as serene.
“Our conversation comes to an end. I have no more of my time to lend.”
Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to protest, but for once closed it instantly. She placed her own mug on the table, nodding in agreement. She thanked Zecora for the tea and promised to visit again at some point during the weekend. She didn't specify a date, as she had many things planned, but imagined she could squeeze a brief visit into her agenda.
Rainbow Dash was nearly to her house when it occurred to her that she did not like tea.
Saturday and Sunday passed and Rainbow Dash did not visit Zecora. Things, usually little things, kept appearing in her way, distracting her. Friends came to visit, trips to the movies were planned, new opportunities for training surfaced, homework was suddenly given top priority. Anything and everything happened to keep Rainbow Dash away from Zecora's shop. While she enjoyed most of her leisure time during the weekend, at every interval between activities she would think of the shop and the woman who owned it. But always, by the time she was prepared for that visit, something happened to deviate her from her path.
On Monday, Rainbow at last found time to visit Zecora. It was rather late in the day, but she didn't fear the shop being closed. Her agenda was clear and she was confident she would be able to at least catch a glimpse of the woman before it filled up again. As she approached, she noticed that Zecora had cleaned up the vandalism, leaving the window as if it had never been touched. This, an assurance that her friend cared about the shop, made her smile.
“Hey Zecora, thought I'd......”
Rainbow Dash stopped, one foot over the threshold, the words frozen on her lips. She stared around at what had once been "Curios". In the time she had been gone, it had turned from a museum of all that was strange in the world to a naked shell of itself. The shelves had been emptied and the display cases were vacant. All of the wonderful items, the clothing and the masks and such, were gone. The only thing that remained of the shop's past was a single jar on the counter, containing a butterfly with rainbow wings.
Horrified, Rainbow Dash dashed through the empty shop. The door to the back room was ajar, beckoning her. She went through it, expecting to find a note from Zecora, as often happens in fiction. But, to her relief, she found the woman herself, hunched over a suitcase. She was not attired in the red dress she had worn the other times Rainbow had seen her. She was instead wearing a thick, long-sleeved blouse and a pair of loose pants that seemed to be made from zebra skin. At Rainbow's entry, she looked up from her packing.
“Ah, Rainbow Dash, I knew you would come. Your devotion beats to the sound of my drum.”
Rainbow ignored the words. The shock of it all, seeing the shop stripped bare and now Zecora obviously preparing to leave, was sending her head into a spin.
“You're...you're..going?” she burst out. “This...this shop....”
“.......is nothing but dust and dew. At the corners of the world, a life waits for me anew.”
Rainbow wasn't usually one to cry, but she was having trouble holding back her tears. It was illogical, she knew, to be this emotional over someone she had known for less than a week. But Zecora was far from any person, man or woman, she had ever known for weeks, months, or years. The way she looked at her, as if she could see every crevice of Rainbow's soul, every road of her being, made her feel as if she had known her since the very day she was born. She had smelled the most amazing places imaginable in that little shop. She had tasted lives and people she would have never thought to be real in that tea. To be torn away from all that so abruptly was almost murder in her eyes.
“I want to go with you!” Rainbow pronounced suddenly. “Every adventurer's gotta have a sidekick, right?”
Zecora closed the suitcase, the sound radiating in the otherwise silent room. She stared deep into Rainbow's eyes, a sad smile on her face. She glimpsed a bit of herself, a bit of her own spirit, inside this girl. It surprised her to remember she had once been of nearly that exact character, except perhaps less naïve.
Rainbow turned a deep shade of rose as Zecora gently brushed a hand across her cheek.
“We are not a match the stars have chosen to make. You must remain until it is your destiny's turn to wake.”
Rainbow didn't know or care what Zecora was referring to. She was too focused on her dismay to give the words more than a single thought.
“It's my age, isn't it?” she guessed bitterly. “Look, I'll be eighteen in a few months if it bothers you. It's not like I want to marry you or something. I just want to...come with you.”
The many bracelets Zecora wore on her arms jingled against one another as she cupped Rainbow's face in her hands. The girl was not sobbing, but Zecora could still see the tears running down her cheeks, even though they were not physically there. Rainbow would not cry, she was certain. Rainbow would remain brave, her eyes dry and defiant, until the end. The ways Rainbow reminded her of her younger self were beginning to pile up. Smiling with less sadness, Zecora leaned forward and pressed her lips to Rainbow's own.
Rainbow Dash was bathed in Zecora's scent, the one he had adored from the moment it wafted across her nostrils. But it was her taste that made the deepest impact. Rainbow Dash could taste a thousand lost civilizations, a hundred forgotten lands, and the many years of a life spent exploring them. She tasted everything she'd ever seen in her fantasies, every late night Daring Do novel, and every adventure she'd always wanted to have. Zecora was somehow all of these things, breathing her own soul into the other girl. And the kiss did not feel unexpected. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. All of the protests and all of the questions melted in the heat of it, leaving Rainbow Dash floating.
Zecora withdrew after a full minute. She stepped back from the dazed girl. Once again, she gently brushed her hand across Rainbow's cheek, staring into her rose-colored eyes. Her smile was no longer sad. It was much the same one she had worn the very first time she had seen Rainbow.
“We will meet again, after the magic has returned to its serenity. Only then will you know your identity.”
Suitcase in hand, she walked past the frozen girl, out of the back room and out of the shop.
Only one thought existed in Rainbow Dash's mind. Only one single thought came to her as she stood there, unmoving and staring at the space Zecora had once occupied. When she had bought the headdress, she had later wondered about where and when she would ever have cause to wear it. But now, it came to her exactly when she would don the beautiful headdress.
In her bedroom, between an autographed baseball and her favorite Daring Do novel, the headdress waited for the day of Zecora's return.
Author's Note
I'm sure I screwed up Zecora's way of speaking, but this is literally my first time writing about her, let alone writing dialogue for her. Apologies for some of the messier attempts at rhyming.
