An Old Zebra's Tale

by Arreis Of Avalon

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Zecora, Twilight Sparkle, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1521

Zecora tells Twilight an old fairy tale.

Zecora tells Twilight an old fairy tale that holds more truth than Twilight knows.

Entirely based on the English Cover of "Witch Hunt" by JubyPhonic.

Published 2015-09-06 15:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-06 15:10:02 UTC

Witch Hunt

Zecora hummed to herself as she poured another ground herb into the bubbling cauldron. The scent of berries filled the air. She sighed, smiling. “A lovely aroma, if I do say; though where is Miss Sparkle with the hay?”

She looked around, curious as to where the mare had gone off to. Just on cue, Twilight trotted in, a bag full of peculiar looking blue hay held aloft with her magic. “I have the final ingredient, Zecora.”

Zecora chuckled. “Thank you, Twilight, for this boon. That hay will complete this sweet perfume.”

Twilight chuckled, setting the bag down gently. “Anytime, Zecora.” She sat, sighing contently as she was off of her hooves. “Though, I was wondering why you had me fetch things for you today. Usually you ask Applebloom to help you with potions.”

“While little Applebloom is brave, other company, I do crave. You will face the Everfree, so my help today I asked you to be.

Twilight smiled. “Thank you. It’s always nice to talk to you; I feel like every time I see you, I learn so much more about Zebrica.” Zecora grabbed the hay and began adding the last ingredient to the to the now pink and tan potion. Twilight watched her carefully. Zecora began to hum again, muttering under her breath in a language foreign to the mare. Twilight tilted her head to the side. “Zecora? If you wouldn’t mind my asking, what is that you’re singing?”

Zecora glanced at Twilight and smiled. “T’is a song of my people and the trials we face; this song is a fairy tale to your race.” She put the bag down near the cauldron, sitting. “This song is one dear to my heart and soul; it is now a story told to a parent’s foal. Would you wish to know this ancient tale from long ago?”

Twilight nodded quickly, eyes shining with curiosity. “I always want to know more about where you come from! Do you mind if I take notes?” Out of thin air, Twilight poofed her notebook and pen out.

Zecora chuckled, shaking her head. “Feel free to take notes, and listen well; this story is a very strange one to tell. The song derived from this is sung to fillies and colts and other’s young. The tale, on the other hoof, is blunt; please know I mean you no affront.” Twilight nodded, listening intently. Zecora nodded and began.

“Long ago, in a far off land, there lived a prince whose life was grand. Every mare loved him dearly, but he never loved them back sincerely. This unicorn prince was rotted inside, until one day, he went with great stride to a nearby, quaint little town, where he ran into a mare with a simple red gown.”

“He apologized swiftly to the mare as he laid eyes on her face, fair. He was quickly surprised to see, she was, in fact, a Zebra like me.” Zecora chuckled warmly as Twilight furiously scribbled notes. “The name of these ponies remains a mystery, forever lost to the pages of history; but their names do not matter in the main scheme of things: love, not names, is what this story brings.”

“You mean they fell in love, just like that?” Twilight asked, a bit surprised.

Zecora nodded. “They had truly found love at first sight; their joy made the prince’s dark heart light.” She frowned softly with a sigh. “But the tale sadly does not end here, because a friend of the prince did overhear. This friend, a green unicorn mare, loved the prince as well - yet her cowardice and timidity, she could not quell.”

“Oh my… So they both loved the prince?” Twilight rubbed her chin. “Interesting… What happened next?”

Zecora closed her eyes softly. “The green mare prayed to her Gods that the prince would love her, against all odds. Yet as she grew more and more jealous, her attempts to thwart love grew overzealous. Finally, she devised a scheme to take, the love of the prince using truths that were fake.”

“She lied to the prince?”

Zecora nodded once more. “Her plan went well, almost without a hitch; she convinced the prince the zebra was an evil witch.” Zecora rose her hoof as Twilight began to speak. “Now, hold thy tongue, for the tale still goes on; the unicorn mare wanted the zebra gone. She requested the witch be burned alive at the stake, at dawn, when the entire town was awake.”

“B-Burned alive?” Twilight’s eyes were wide. “That’s so… it’s unbelievable. Why would somepony react so violently over something like love?” She gulped. “P-Please, keep going.”

“The zebra was tied tight to a cross,” Zecora continued, “tears falling from her eyes due to loss. ‘If I pray, who will hear,’ she said, ‘I’m drowning in their cheers’, and her love watched in pain, his love to be slain.”

Zecora took a deep breath. “‘If my love was just a curse,’ she said, ‘then I have only tears for us to shed. So let me burn, burn out bright, and may the flames burn up your spite’. With these words that she called out, the prince began to feel his doubt.”

“But the unicorn mare now believed all her lies; she tied the zebra up all the way to her eyes. ‘We will do what we must,’ she lied; ‘let it all turn to dust,’ she cried. The zebra wept as the skies grew grey; there were no Gods to help her find her way.”

“‘I can’t believe all the fools I see,’ said the zebra tied up on the tree. ‘Can’t you see the lies she spread, she only wants our true love dead!’ Yet despite all she said, on deaf ears fell her pleas; the flames were set and as they rised, the embers drifted in the breeze.”

“D...Did she die,” Twilight whispered, her voice dreadfully quiet; she didn’t want to interrupt the story, but she had to know.

Zecora allowed herself the smallest of smiles. “As the crowds screamed for penitence, the zebra shouted now: ‘my love, how could you, my death, allow?’. With a sharp cry and burst of light, black wings burst from her back; the flames died from her wing stroke and the ropes she wore grew slack.”

“The zebra was indeed a witch, yet no more evil than I; but the wings she bore had grown black with sorrow as her love for the prince did die. Like a flame, burning bloody red and tearing through the sky, she said, ‘tell my story to the wind, how the jealous ponies sinned, and how I rose into the sky, on this day how my love died, and how the rain will wash away all the tears that I did cry’.”

“Through the clouds, she disappeared, and the rain smothered the flames; and still this tale is told, though we’ve forgotten all the names. The lesson held in the tale still holds true today; a rumor could spell death, or worse, so be careful what you say.”

Twilight let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I… Is that a normal fairy tale for you?”

Zecora nodded. “This tale with many others is truth to Zebra kind; the morals of these stories must be kept in mind.”

Twilight nodded. “That was… an incredible story, Zecora. Thank you for telling me it all.”

“You expressed curiosity to know; I merely wished knowledge to bestow.”

Twilight chuckled. “Well, you certainly gave me a lot to think about.” She glanced outside. “It’s getting pretty late. I should probably get home; Spike’s probably done making dinner by now.” She turned back to Zecora. "Thank you so much again for the story, Zecora.”

“I will tell my stories at anytime, if you’re certain you can stand the rhyme.”

Twilight laughed. “I think I can handle it.” She smiled. “There’s almost something magical about the way you rhyme, Zecora. It was a pleasure hearing a tale in such a new way.” She smiled and trotted outside. “Just tell me if you ever want my company again!”

Zecora waved goodbye and closed the door. She began to hum the song of the story once again, glancing at the potion. It still needed another hour to simmer. She thought to the song. Her smile faded as she trotted to her bedroom.

She trotted to the wall and ran her hoof over the black feather there. “These tales are true to my kind still today,” she whispered. “I know better than my name to betray.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Look at me, still recounting the tears; my anger has faded, after so many years. I let go of the past so long ago…”

She glanced back at the door and smiled slyly. “But I do not think she is ready to know.” She chuckled. “Now for a drink. My throat is dry now, I think.”

Author's Note

For anyone who doesn't get it yet, Zecora is the witch.
Just couldn't get this outta my head. Unedited because college and time management.