Fallout: Equestria - Group Anthology - 2016

Zenya, Zola, and the Iron Beast

by Gamma Deekay

Listen up young ones, and gather close. For today, I have a special story for you all. It is about the history of our tribe. Both how it was, and how it came to be as you all see it today. So pay close attention, and let me tell you about the great warrior Zenya, and why it is after the first rain of every year, we cast our gazes to the north across the barren sea. And why we still rebuild our village every year on the following day.

Long ago, on the outskirts of the of our great zebra tribe, sat a small ‘city’. It was so far away from the rest of our striped tribe in fact, that it shared itself with the colored ones. This ‘city’ as they called it, was built by a great sea of water, and the huts there were large and full of wonders beyond imagination. It is said, that even though there was great conflict between the colored ones and our people, this ‘city’ flourished and grew.

Then came the day of the great fire, when the sun itself cast down and cleansed the lands around us. It boiled away all the water from the great sea, and turned all the hills and valleys it gazed upon to ash. It even took away the frozen rains of winter, leaving only the warm, dry air all year in the fire’s wake. Though, our ancestors were smart. They knew that one day, the great fire would come to cleans the world. So before it came to pass, they built us the great tomb to live in for a short time.

It is there that both our kind and the colored ones took shelter during the great fire. And when the days of the great fire had passed, our people’s emerged from the tomb born again of these ashen and barren lands. However, even though the conflict had not been between our ancestors and the colored ones of the ‘city’, the colored ones decided to leave us and return to their own lands. As they left, they promised that one day they would return with more fantastic wonders to help our ancestors. Only, once they disappeared over the ashen hills, they were to never be seen again. Now, my children, we are all that is left in this ashen world. But, that is not the end of our story, only where it begins.

With the great 'city' unfit to survive in, our ancestors used its remains to build our village. They chose to build here, in the remains of the once great sea for the reason that it's soil was still fertile unlike the ashen hills around us. And for a time, there was peace in our survival.

However the dried sea that had once proved fertile enough, began to dry and crack. Not even our tools were able to turn the soil enough to grow much at all. Each year it became harder to grow what food our people needed to live, and our ancestors began to pray to the gods for a miracle. After that very winter had passed however, on the day after the first rain of the year, the iron beast came to answer our prayers.

The beast came from the north across the barren sea. It came billowing a great storm of black clouds and fire. Our ancestors attempted to bargain with the beast, unable to stop it from advancing across the open barren sea. They tried all manners of persuasion, yet none sated the beast. So the elders of our ancestors gathered up the tribe and as much of their belongings as they could, and took them back into the tomb, sealing it up yet again. Three days and nights passed before they opened the door. And when they did, something disastrously wondrous had happened.

The village they had built had been set to ruins. The great beast had destroyed every home without a single one spared, even selfishly taking some of the metal objects that our ancestors had used to build the village. Once it was sated with the destruction, it had again left to travel back across the barren sea. However, the beast did not just bear destruction to the village. For you see, the beast was a lumbering, terrible monster. The beast was so heavy, and it's feet so numerous, that the tracks it left churned and tilled the barren soil in it’s wake, creating a wide fertile plot in which to grow another year’s food in.

“I bet you I could take it on!” Young Zaki interrupted my story with his outburst. The other foals giggled at the young colt.

“Hush now little ones, and let me continue.” I childed before trying to remember where I had left the story.

The elders of our ancestors realized that the terrible beast had in fact answered their prayers. The metal it took from them was the tribute required for this wondrous act, and as such, was forgiven. Our ancestors rebuilt their village around the tracks that the great beast had left. And so they had lived for another year in peace and prosperity. Winter came, and winter left, and soon the first rains of the year came to pass as well. That is again when the great beast and it’s storm of fire appeared again from across the northern barren sea.

Again, they pleaded with the beast to stop. ‘There is no need for another miracle’ they called out to it, only for the beast to yet again ignore them. Understanding that the beast must be deaf to their cries, they knew that the could not stop what was to come. So, as they had before, our ancestors gathered up the villagers and their belongs. Again, they sought the safety of the great tomb, and sealed the door.

Another three days and nights passed before they opened the door. Again, they opened the door to find that their village had been destroyed, and more metal had been taken. Like the time before, the beast’s tracks had tilled the soil. It was then that our ancestors started to understand this cycle of destruction and renewal. It was soon named the great cleansing, and was taught to the young ones of then that it was something to be respected, rather than to be feared.

“Why didn’t our ancestors fight the beast off?” Zhi, my grand daughter asked, interrupting me for a second time.

“Because, my child, we were not a tribe of warriors.” I answered softly. “Now please, I know you have many questions, but I will ask you to be silent until the end of the story.” To this, I received many nods from the young ones.

Our ancestors learned that every year after the first rains had come, the beast would come from the barren sea to cleanse the village. Every time, they would have less to rebuild the village with, as the beast required it’s tribute. Our ancestors took what little more metal they could find from the great ruins of the ‘city’, but it was a meager amount. The elders had worried that eventually, our tribe would have so little left to rebuild, that they would have nowhere left to live. They ordered that we keep our population in check, as to make what little we had last for as many more winters as possible.

It was when I was but your age, little ones, that my sister and I had very little left that we could call our own. Only the heirloomed tools of our ancestors were our possessions, and a simple shack that fit the just the two of us. Zenya and I worked hard every day to tend to the land we had. Even though the two of us had very little to call our own, the one thing my sister never lacked, was an empty mind. In fact, she was always burdened with far too many wonderous ideas...

“Zola, may I ask you something?” Zenya turned to me, her hooves still working the moist dirt to harvest the Ginseng roots we had grown that year. The sun was heading for the horizon, and nightfall would soon be upon us.

“Yes, Zenya?” I spoke through the basket I carried in my muzzle. I was far too young to work on the harvest, but after the planting of last fall, sickness had claimed our mother and father. So I worked just as hard as my sister to grow and harvest what we needed for the tribe.

“Do you ever think the elders are wrong about the great cleansing?” She asked, staring off across the Barren Sea. The great plume of smoke crackled with fire, even from the horizon. Today had been the first rain of the new year, and once we finished here, we would follow the tribe into the great tomb.

“No, Zenya.” I answered. It was unwise to question the wisdom of the elders. All we knew about the world, we learned from them because they were who had learned from the elders before them. The mysteries of the ancient world had been lost to the rest of us, and only they could decipher the odd writings of the colored ones.

“Do you not think it unfair?” Zenya asked as she pull up more roots. “The elders say that the beast is generous. That it gives us the soil in return for the metal we offer it.”

“Is that not true? Or how it has always been?” Setting the basket down, I looked at my sister in dismay. “Would you have us be greedy and risk enraging the beast? You know that greed is a poison that saps away all we as a tribe have left.”

“Zola, we have so little now that we can barely survive.” My sister pointed to our meager shack. Most likely come tomorrow, we wouldn’t have a place to live at all. “Those who brave the ‘city’ return with so little, still the beast claims more after every winter. Is it not greedy to take until our tribe has nothing more to give?”

“What do you propose?” I offered, diligent to get to my own task of harvesting our crop. “For more almost two hundred winters, our tribe has survived the cleansing of the village. We will continue to do so as long as we can.” I had some days wondered just why Zenya could not understand and be grateful for what we had, rather than wanting for more. “You have heard the stories. There is no other offering the beast will accept.”

“Then we offer it death.” Zenya spoke with such conviction that I was taken aback by it. “If it can till the soil, then in death, we can learn how it does this. We can use the legs to till, and any other pieces of it for the benefit of us all!”

“You cannot kill the beast!” I had little knowledge about if it were actually possible, rather, I did not wish for my sister to be slain by the beast in her foolishness. “We are not warriors, Zenya. We grow what we need and we are happy with that. The cleansing is something to be respected and enjoyed.”

“Well I cannot do either of those any more!” She spoke back with fire blazing in her eyes. I had never seen Zenya so stubborn before. She was a mare possessed, bent on an outrageous idea that things could change.

The chimes of gathering rang out across the air, halting my sisters rage. The beast had finally come over the horizon, and it was time for the villagers to head into the great tomb. Quickly, we gathered what crops we could into our baskets and prepared ourself to leave our humble home forever. Zenya however, took a moment to gaze upon the beast as it approached.

“Zenya, we must hurry.” I spoke, eager to join the others inside the great tomb.

For the time being, she had sought to listen to reason, and joined me. With our baskets weighed down with food, we were the last to reach the shelter. I remember the elder standing outside, waiting for us to enter so that he could seal the door. I prayed that Zenya would not be foolish enough to pursue her earlier thoughts, but she was more stubborn than any of our tribe.

“Elder, may I ask you something?” She spoke up.

“Perhaps inside, yes.” The elder spoke with a reverent tone, his clouded and unseeing eyes searching for Zenya before him. “Hurry now, into the great tomb, for the beast approaches.” He said, pointing up to the faded words above the great metal door that read Bomb Shelter. I had no idea what the strange glyphs meant, but that was why he was the elder. He had been taught the old ways, and we had not. “Only inside will we all be safe from the great cleansing.”

“Why not kill the beast?” Zenya asked with all the softness as the thin metal walls we had once used for our home.

The elder was not mad at the question as I had presumed he would have been. Instead, he only laughed for a moment. “My child,” He spoke softly, “the beast was said to have a skin of iron, crushing claws, and a heart made out of pure thunder. It has lasted longer than we have, so it must be eternal, young one. I am sorry, but the beast cannot be felled.”

“But I am sure that we should we try…” She began, only to be silenced by a crack of thunder from the beast’s storm as it approached.

“Young one, it is beyond your grasp to comprehend why our ancestors decided to continue the cleansing. But I do understand it.” The elder raised his voice as he spoke now. “You shall listen to me, for I have the wisdom granted by those before me to guide our tribe on the correct path. Now you may enter the tomb with the others, or stay to face the wrath of the beast. Make your choice now, for the door must be sealed in but a moment.”

Either a gift of madness or a favor from the gods, that was when when Zenya truly gained wisdom beyond her years.

“Then I will prove you wrong.” She spoke, dropping her basket and fleeing back towards the village.

“Zenya!” I cried out, wanting to stop her.

You see, young ones, I was burdened with a great choice. Either go inside and abandon my one and only sister to live with the others. Or, I could stay and bear witness to the true form of the beast before it took the lives of my sister and I with the unending fires it spat.

My young ones, you must never underestimate the bond that beckons you and your families together.

Casting down my baskets, I chased after my sister. The elder offered nothing more to say as he sealed us outside of the great tomb. At the time, it had seemed like our fates had been set, and that my sister and I would join the village as tribute to the great beast. However, as I had said, my sister was often burdened with wonderous ideas.

“Zenya, wait!” I cried out as we galloped back to our small home. I did not know what she had planned, but I was adamant that she was making a mistake. “Zenya, we have to seek shelter!”

“No, I can do this.” She muttered as she tossed out all of our farming tools. “We can kill the beast and free our tribe from it’s greed!” Throwing down our Heirloomed hoe, she snapped the old iron head off the shaft. It was then that she grabbed one of our other heirlooms in her fetlock and brought it up against the shaft. The faded writing on the blade was as worn as on the tomb, but mother had said that the elder translated Cosmic Knife to mean blade of the stars. Only a few had been gathered from the ‘city’ over the many winters, and it was one of our most prized possessions to survive the many cleansings we’ve had. Using what little rope we had as well, she took our one and only star blade and affixed it to the end of the shaft, forging a crude spear.

The crack of thunder from the approaching beast made the air itself tremble. I was afraid, more than I had ever been in my life. Yet, my sister only grew more determined. As I looked toward the beast, I finally gazed upon it’s true form.

Large and round, it looked like the biggest kettle you can imagine had been flipped upside down, and the iron skin it wore was blacker than the ashen hills surrounding the barren sea. It’s feet were like an endless stream of metal pouring over itself as it moved. Two massive horns sat perched upon the top of it, spewing fire and smoke high into the air. A pair of razor claws as big as the largest zebra hung from under the kettle bottom. Finally, set in the center of it was the heart, and indeed it was made of pure thunder. It shown with a brilliance akin to the sun, and arced lightning across it’s skin with great cracks that nearly shattered the air itself.

I remember my sister turning to me, not a single drop of fear in her vivid violet eyes.

“Zola, you must seek shelter.” She offered with a kind smile. One too kind for what she knew was to come of her battle. “No matter what happens, you must carry on for our family.”

“I cannot leave you!” I had whined, but deep down, I knew I could not stop her. “I do not want for you to die.” For as much as I had argued about greed, I was now the one who wanted more than any zebra who had ever lived.

With only a kiss to my forehead, and without another word, my sister left me. Spear clenched in her muzzle, she galloped head on toward the great beast. I wanted to do as she said, I had wanted to flee. However, if it were to be the last moments that I ever laid eyes on her, I wanted to see her fate with my own two eyes.

That night, as the sun hid below the western mountains, my sister met the beast in combat. The massive claws and heavy weight of the beast were no match for the speed of Zenya. Light on her hooves, she nearly danced around the cumbersome attacks the beast offered. Each swing she made with her spear, the beast roared and breathed gouts of fire from the twin horns. Each attack which landed, scouring only silvery lines across the dark black skin.

Then, with a great swing, one of the claws hit Zenya and tossed her through the air. I had remembered that moment being cold as I watched her tumble across the dirt and dust. The beast, though slow, had skin too thick for her. And though Zenya had been deterred, she would not relent. Rising to her hooves, she hefted the spear and charged the beast again.

I still to this day do not understand what possessed her with such strength of will. Our tribe had always been one of peace. None of us had known the ways of the warrior, nor the fury that Zenya held in her eyes that night. Still, my sister lept upon the beast with nothing left but the intent to end the tyranny it had held our tribe under. With a single downward stroke of her spear, she drove it into the blinding lightning heart, and tore it asunder completely.

The beast cracked like thunder all over, and great waves of fire washed over it from the now glowing horns. In these death throes, I lost sight of my sister. With a boom that rivaled only the ones on the day of great fire, the beast cleansed itself in a blinding ball of flame. In the final cleansing, I was burned across my body and thrown to the dirt in agony.

The tribe had heard the roar from inside the great tomb, and the elder had unsealed the door at great risk. However, they found me still clinging to life near the burning carcase of the once feared beast. Though injured, I had lived through the terrifying encounter. However, my sister had not.

Still clinging to what remained of the spear, she had perished in the final cleansing the beast gave. The village mourned her passing with great wailing cries, offering prayers to help usher her spirit into the ever after beyond the ashen hills. Her charred body and spear were carried far into the great tomb to be laid to rest with our ancestors, and an offering by the tribe was set by her side.

However, as the days went on, and the corpse of the beast was stripped for all that was useful, the wisdom of my sister had shown to be true. The many feet of the beast formed much better plows than we had used for generations. Other parts of the corpse helped to gather more water, while others helped to cook our food. Overnight, we went from having little to share between us, to more available to take than each of us could ever have dreamed of. Zenya was a hero to us all, and will be remembered as such for all time.

Though the beast had been felled, the tribe felt it still needed to be honored for what it had given us over the years. The day after the first rain, the elder ordered each and every home to be dismantled and rebuilt again to appease the spirit of the great beast, lest it return again another year.

As much as her death weighed heavily on my soul in the following moons, I only found myself filled with laughter. The tribe said I must have gone mad that night, an illness caused by the beast when it was felled. However, I laughed not out of madness, but joy. My sister had the wisdom to challenge what our tribe thought was fate, and she had won. With the beast felled, our tribe could now prosper and grow as it once had after the time of the great fire. And for a time, that made me happy.

However, after the next winter had passed, and the first day of rain came for us. I looked out on the horizon and waited for another beast to come for us. I longed for another beast to approach, to threaten us again so that perhaps my sister might return to us yet again. That night I fell very ill, and the elder had told me I had almost fallen into the eternal sleep.

But what happened that night was no illness, but a miracle in disguise. For that night I met my sister again in my dreams. She told me that I needed to be strong for her. For there were yet other beasts to slay out across the barren sea, and far beyond the ashen hills. That we were not alone in the ashen world, and that one day, she would return clad in the skin of these beasts to lead the colored ones back to us like they had promised so long ago. The next day, I had told the elder of what I had foreseen in my dreams, and he too agreed that it must be a divine prophecy.

“It has been many winters since then,” I spoke out at the crowd of wide eyed little ones around me. “but this is why still tonight, the night after the first rain, we as a tribe look out to the north. We are watching and waiting for one of two things. Either for a great storm clouded beast to come for us across the barren sea. Or, for the foretold return of Zenya, the savior of our tribe.”

“It is not real.” Zayana, the oldest of the mares scoffed. “It is just a story they tell to keep us afraid of leaving.” She may be strong headed, but she carried a spirit like my sister had inside, even if she didn’t believe it. “There are no beasts out there at all. We would see them!”

“If Zola said it happened, then it did!” Zhi answered Zayana with a sharp shout that only served to rile up the others.

“Now, now.” I ordered out, calling the young ones to quick attention. “If it is one thing that the both of you understand about this lesson, is that both of you are correct.”

“I do not understand.” Zhi looked at me with eyes as clouded as mine had been all those many winters ago.

“Zenya had the wisdom to question what she was told. She understood that a renewal of the mind is just as important as the renewal of the soil we grow in every year. It is the responsibility of each and every one of you to continue to question things on this day more than any other.” I had done my best to teach the tribe this lesson every day since the old elder passed on many winters ago. I may not have had the gift to act as Zenya had against the beast, but I too only wanted our tribe to grow to be more than we are.

The quick hoofsteps outside of my home drew a gasp from the young ones. Zuri, my son, entered with sweat beading from his brow and a smile across his face. I was concerned, and quickly made sure to hush the young ones from interrupting whatever news he brought.

“Mother, it has happened!” He shouted, nearly unable to hold in his excitement. “Come, come! You must see it!”

Without another word, he turned and tore away from my home. The excitement for whatever he spoke of spread like fire among the young ones. Each of them got to their hooves and galloped out after him, leaving me to my own pace as I stood up. My legs had grown feeble over the years, and the old burns across my body make it painful to even walk across the village anymore. However, the excitement had sparked from him into me as well. I felt my soul itself pull me forward and out of the great iron cauldron that I both called my home, and had once been the outer shell of the great beast.

Stepping outside, I felt my very breath draw from me. There, clothed in red and silver painted iron skins of the beast, stood five outsiders. One of them stepped forward, removing the iron mask they wore to reveal the striped face of a zebra mare underneath.

“Not good with old language.” The mare spoke slowly, bowing reverently to me. “But we come in peace. From place far named N.C.R.” As she spoke, all I could see was my sister in this mare. Her purple eyes did not hold the same fire as Zenya, but they were just as strong and determined. “We come to help.”

With that, the other iron clad warriors removed their helmets, revealing the colored ones of old. Upon gazing at them, I broke down and wept with joy. It must have greatly confused the outsiders, however I had never dreamed to see this day. Two hundred and twenty winters our tribe had survived, nearly fifty since Zenya had saved us all. I still could not claim to be as strong as Zenya ever was, but I had proven that I had the strength to do as she asked.

Our tribe had survived the great cleansings of so long ago, only to be free’d of them by my sister. Now, with the incarnation of her return, it is time for a new cleansing. Different than the ones of old, instead, this was to be a renewal of ourselves as a tribe. Tonight, I can finally return to my own family in peace, knowing that my sister may now rest easy on the ever after with a new day tomorrow for those she left behind.

I know not what tomorrow’s renewal holds for our future, as the outsider’s have much to teach and share with us. However, of one thing I am sure. Our future is to be a story for another time, and from another elder. With my vision having come to pass, tomorrow I must make my own son the elder of our tribe. I have taught him all that I was taught, and it is time that I returned to the great tomb of our ancestors and joined them on their great journey beyond the ashen hills.

I am not afraid to die, for death is just another part in the cycle of renewal. And while I may be gone, our tribe will continue to grow stronger through each new year's renewal. Zenya knew this better than any of us, and I know that she waits for me to the north, just beyond the ashen hills.