The Master Alchemist

Part 3--Well, crap.

"Is there any chance that we could find the ingredients near here?" Applebloom inquired hopefully. Zecora just shook her head and bit back tears. "Not even a tradin' post?"

"No... this potion comes from the herbs in the Everfree Forest, the key there being forest..." Zecora's breathing came faster.

"So... your momma..."

"She will die without this. Unfortunately, there is not much we can do besides shaking a fist."

"I thought it was convenient that we were coming out here to cure your mom anyways, but this, I mean... I'm sorry, Zecora." Applebloom put a hoof on her master's shoulder in comfort. Half the reason that the duo was selected to be diplomats was because they were goin' into Zebra country anyway--they were there to treat the disease that Zecora's mom had. According to Zecora, that potion was the only cure to it; a jumble of different ground-up plants that had some sort of reaction--'chemical', that's what she called it--that killed the illness. And this was no cowpony's cologne, no, these things were few and far between. The pieces for the Heart's Savior potion were only found in forests, and there weren't many here.

With a ray of hope in her mind Applebllom suggested, "We could send a letter to Twilight! She can get the ingredients, and with her teleportin', she might get here quick enough to save your mom!"

"It won't work," Zecora shot down the idea, "The potion takes time to brew, and there is no way Twilight could find the necessary components in time to keep my mother's condition in line."

"Is she your only family?"

"Yes."

With a depressed sigh, Applebloom realized her teacher did not want to talk about it. They both moved their thoughts away and began picking up the pieces of the caravan wreckage. Ironic that half (actually about a quarter) of their purpose in the Zebra land was to stop raids on fire spice caravans like this. Ironic that the delivery that seemed convenient was ruined by the very circumstances which should have made it easy. Convenience is illegal, she remembered Spike saying that once after being told to carry a heavy load. Irony was cruel, Applebloom realized. Cruelty without reason, the worst crime her society knew. Or cruelty in general. Applebloom idly wondered if some bored god had created them for his own amusement. Another chunk of her mind also contemplated if he was simply lonely. A lonely god, adrift among the stars. Suddenly, Applebloom wanted to meet him, and comfort him from the horrors he invoked in his own world. She shook her head to clear herself of thoughts and focused on the task at hoof.

One of the merchants was directing the survivors with torches.

"Alright, we have to burn the remains. We can't bring it with us and we can't let it block the road," the rough pony moved his callused hooves to direct the burning, and then turned to Applebloom and Zecora, who were piling corpses and wagons into the pyre, a smelly and very unpleasant business. Even though she hardly knew the ponies and zebras she pulled onto the fire, she still felt disgust and sadness.

"Thanks for your help, ladies. Without you, I don't think we'd have made it. Huh. We barely get clearance to come out here and we get raided." The caravan master thanked them. "Shame. These were good guys out here."

"You just wait. It's the bandits that we're out here to solve," Applebloom looked up from the shattered wood stacked on her hooves.

"Mercenaries, then?"

"I wish. We're Equestrian diplomats."  Applebloom responded.

"Bet you love politics, eh?" the pony said with a sarcastically.

Applebloom huffed, "Seriously."

The cleanup was disgusting and the pyre smelled of burned hair and flesh, which made Applebloom's nose twitch. Rain started to pour, causing steam to rise from the flames and muddy the road. Night fell and the moon rose, and Applebloom thought she could see Luna rising above the clouds. The group managed to trudge their way to the next checkpoint, carrying what could be salvaged. At that point, Zecora and Applebloom thanked the caravan master,  stepped back onto the road and headed towards an inn. The duo entered through what looked like a hastily constructed door. Applebloom only had some experience in the field of carpentry, but this place was unmistakeably run down. A bar lined the wall to the right of the entrance, and tables were interspersed around the room. Not evenly, mind you--no, these were haphazardly thrown about. Dozens of patrons filled the area, clogging the chairs, the bar, a pony or zebra could barely set hoof without hitting someone. Even a few griffins were there. This conglomeration again reminded Applebloom of the foreign nature of her expedition. Interestingly enough, the imposing figures of those around her were scarier than those of the bandits.

Zecora promptly asked the innkeeper, "Space for two refugees, please," and tossed him a Zebra coin. The innkeep simply nodded and pointed up the stairs, handing Zecora a key with the number twelve stenciled in. The zebra beyond the counter looked grizzled and as if he hadn't slept in days. And also like he was about to kill somepony.

Applebloom ran off to her master's side. Inside their room in the dark corridor, two beds were spaced comfortably apart. Despite the condition of the rest of the inn, the room itself was not bad. Applebloom watched as her master dropped her saddlebags and cloak and sunk into the bed facing the window. In that moment, Applebloom felt more sorrow than ever, and though she didn't know Zecora's mother, she could almost imagine her looking just like this. Bathed in moonlight, a sigh or a sob racking her body, but silently. The stars shining in the background, casting an eerie, dotted glow on the room.

Applebloom herself sunk into the other bed and drifted off to a disturbed sleep.

The next morning, the sun rose with a flare, shoving its way through the clouds and opening its life-giving heat to the world. The master alchemist and her student broke their fast at the inn, but soon departed for the road to the capital. After all, they had a mission to complete, and a dying zebra to send off. They headed north, the sun to their left and the west, along with the faint and distant smell of the salty oceans. To the east, Applebloom could barely make out mountains that barred the Everfree Forest from the rolling plains and herds of wandering zebra and wildebeest tribes. She actually wasn't sure if Zecora was from the nomadic groups or the civilized parts. But she was also smart enough to realize that her teacher would not want to answer any questions with all of the stress on her.

For hours, they walked, past sand and dirt and dry grasses, stopping at an inn the next night. They continued the same boring travelling, not even talking. Seldom did others pass by--the roads were dangerous now, far too dangerous for the idle sightseer. Another day passed, and with no civilization in sight, the pair made camp. They set their fire to ward off beasts of the night, and sat there for a while.

Then, suddenly, Zecora's eyes lit up.

"Applebloom, look! A Galifrayan mountain flower! One of the ingredients, get the fire ready to cook, we need to be expedient,"

Applebloom rose from her half slumber, "Galifrayan flower? Isn't that one of the things we need for the potion to save your mom?"

"Yes! As I said, prepare a pot of water, fill it all the way, or to your best."

The apprentice ran off with a pot to a nearby stream and filled the cookware with water. She stamped her hoof in anxiety, waiting for the thing to fill. Looking back, Applebloom saw Zecora frantically prancing about, apparently discovering even more of the herbs necessary for the life-saving brew.

Applebloom found it strange that so many of these had appeared right at their camp. It was almost too easy; like someone had set them up.

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced around the area, but saw no one and nothing except a lone tree and a few reeds by the stream on the dry plain.

Soon enough, the pot was full, so Applebloom trotted back with it. Zecora had a frantic look on her face, and told Applebloom that she couldn't find the component, the root of a Laughing Tree.

"Well duh, I mean, it's the root of a tree! There's only one around here, and it's not a Laughing Tree." Applebloom said, as if the answer was obvious.

Zecora pawed around on the ground, much like she had when first entering Ponyville.

"That would make sense, except  for the fact that I also found a water serpent tooth. As I know, of deserted plains they are rather aloof. " Zecora cocked her head to the side in a manner that said, 'You're wrong.'

Applebloom explained her theory on someone having set them up for this, matching Zecora's suspicions. However, neither of them could figure out who would do this. Purposely drop a few ingredients, and leave one out? What was going on?

"Let's get some rest. Sleep on it. Agreed?" Applebloom suggested.

"Agreed," Zecora replied.

They did as they said, and, rotating the watch, they slept. In the morning, a brilliant sunrise woke Applebloom, casting a long shadow of Zecora, who stared off into the distance, in deep thought. Before Applebloom said anything, the zebra spoke.

"There are few that would know the components of the cure. The disease itself is rare; and those who catch it, well they do not fare. Among those ponies who might understand it, there are even fewer who have the resources to counteract it. You remember Voraloxle?" Zecora turned her head towards her apprentice, who nodded.

"Yes. In securing this potion, he would be the best."

"So you think he came here, knew we were going to camp here, and set the pieces here for us? It sounds fishy to me," Applebloom was skeptical.

"Perhaps. Do you have a better idea, Applebloom? No, I assume." Zecora said.

The two packed up the camp, planning to head to what Zecora called a hideout of Voraloxle's.  It was in the capital city, packed in between the crowds. But they still had a long journey ahead of them. A few hours down the road, the pair reached a bustling town. It had walls of stone. Towers were spaced along the line, which appeared to form an octagon. Well, almost.  It was haphazard at best; even in the best places, it looked ready to collapse. However, among Zecora's many lessons about the world was that many things were not as they seemed. Perhaps this rickety, wobbling village was very strong. The guards on the turreted pillars looked the part. They wore cloth almost everywhere, which appeared an odd decision to Applebloom in the desert heat. From her distance, maybe a hundred meters from the walls, they looked to carry spears and bows; bows were an odd choice. Applebloom knew Applejack had a shotgun. Why not use firearms like that? While hooves were more dextrous than they seemed, a bow would be difficult to hold and fire properly. Of course, they had been used in history, so it was certainly possible.

However, Applebloom drew her thought away from the strange armaments of the guards to the front gates. The master alchemist and apprentice approached, and all Zecora had to do was pull back the hood of her cloak. This prompted the two gatesmen at the entrance to send a signal to buddies beyond the wood. When they pulled cranks, the gate opened.

Soon, Applebloom and Zecora were moving through the crowded town. It looked primitive, even for a desert town. Buildings were mostly of adobe and sandstone bricks, abundant resources in this place.

While pushing their way through the people and the market, Applebloom heard several screams. Zecora also turned in the direction of the sounds, which came from off to the left. Quickly, the duo dashed towards the area. It seemed, at a glance, that everyone had backed off to let a few customers into a market stall. However, upon closer inspection a robbery was seen taking place.

The largest thief, an imposing zebra, yelled at the shopkeeper. "Where is the book? I know you have it!"

"I-I swear, I don-don't know w-what you're talking about!" the victim sobbed, covering her head. The mare ducked as the zebra smacked one of her potions from the table.

His companions tore into the stall, throwing vials and books and all manner of exotic goods to the ground. Zecora and Applebloom only then managed to push through the crowd, along with a few guards they had found along the way.

With lighting speed, Applebloom tackled the smallest enemy, driving blades deep into his--or was it a her?--torso. The masked face's eyes widened with shock, and then closed forever. Zecora swept the big one off of his legs, and then poured a poison down his gullet. It was surprisingly quick and effective, despite the oddity of the attack. The third thief was simealtaneously attacked by two spear-wielding guards and the now free Applebloom. After several vicious cuts and stabs, he hit the ground.

The quaking mare rose on her hooves, still shaken. She had a blood red mane and tail, with a contrasting blue body. Zecora approached her.

"It's okay, friend. If I may ask, what is your name, crimson mane?"

"Asura Alverci. Thank you, uh-" the pony said.

"Zecora is my name, Asura. It was not a problem. Now, can you tell me what those folk were after?" Zecora indicated the fallen bodies.

"They kept talking about a book... Velnar..Velnish.. Velnishar, that was it! I don't know why they thought I had it." Asura's breathing slowed.

Zecora patted the pony's shoulder, and left as the guardsmen took over from there. Velnishar was a vaguely familiar name to Zecora. She'd have to ask Voraloxle about that too. Heaving out a sigh, she realized she would owe and owed that pony far too much.