How Zebras Got Their Stripes
The campfire burned in the center of woodland clearing, illuminating the three smiling and laughing fillies and two mares around it. While some of the mares wore uniforms, all the foals had on green hats and sashes with badges adorning them - chiefly a bronze one of a filly standing proudly on their hats. It was the filly scouts annual camp out in the Whitetail Wood, and aside from smores and campfire songs, they were anxiously awaiting their story tellers for the evening. From a nearby path a third mare came happily trotting over.
“So, we’re doing something a little different this year.” a pudgy mare with a yellow coat, red mane and tail said, smiling as she approached the group. Her orange eyes glittered from the fire, “Instead of the usual stories, I asked for some exotic friends to come tell us one of their culture’s stories.”
A groan came from across the campfire. “Come on, Holiday, I was looking forward to telling some of my best ghost stories.” a pale blue pegasus with a rainbow mane was the one complaining, her niece's hero and honorary big sister Rainbow Dash. Holiday had to stifle a chuckle when her own wife Lofty responded by elbowing her in the side.
The other pegasus, Lofty, was far bonier than Rainbow, and had a voice that betrayed her years of cigarette use. Holiday had finally managed to make her quit, but not until she convinced her it would set a bad example for Scootaloo. “Yeah we know how that ends, tell ya what, you switch with us on nightmare duty and we’ll think about it.” She joked, making their niece blush a bit. Holiday knew the orange filly was about to protest she had gotten over that, so she spoke up first.
“I think you’ll like this. I asked those nice zebra siblings who moved to town to tell us one of their stories.” She smiled, “Oh! Here’s one of them now!” She pointed to the trail where a zebra stallion with pulled back dreadlocks, green eyes, and a colorful sugar skull necklace walked towards them. He was a tall stallion with a muscular build, his tail was pulled up by a blue ribbon, and he flashed a charming smile to each of the mares in turn - which got Rainbow blushing a bit and the fillies giggle at the adult’s reaction. “Zul’ten, I’m glad you could make it!”
The stallion grinned wide, “Non-sense, it is my pleasure! As to share a story is always a treasure.” He wore saddle bags, which he sat down as he joined the six of them, “Though, I fear you’ll have to accept my narrative skill. For my dear sister has fallen quite ill.”
Holiday frowned at that, “Oh, poor thing, will she be alright?”
The zebra nodded with a reassuring smile, “She merely has a common flu. She’ll be better with rest and the right brew.” He smiled over to the fillies, “I hope you’re ready, little ones, for an ancient tale. One I find never goes stale.”
“What are you telling Mr. Zul’ten?” The orange filly asked excitedly, “An ancient Battle, Zebra Empires?” Her wings fluttered at the thought of how awesome that could be, but the zebra just chuckled.
“Nothing so violent. I think if it was they’d rather I be silent.” He grinned and nodded to the chaperones.
“Nah, that sounds cool.” Rainbow added with a smirk getting a laugh out of the group.
Still when it died down Zul’ten continued. “The tale I tell is two fold - though it is worth more than gold. For this is not only the story of why zebras come in four types.” He lifted a pouch of powder, balancing it on one hoof and pulling the string to open if with his mouth, “But also how we got our stripes.” He then blew the powder into the fire, causing shapes to rise from it that finally formed images.
Far away is a realm where spirits dwell - where we go when we lose our mortal shell. There lie the creators of zebra, elephant and gazelle. But we start before that when one viewed her world as a cell.
We know this being as the Matriarch. To her this world was stark. Though she had regency and was a monarch - soon her thoughts, they did turn dark. This world was sad and dull, she had to remark. It just lacked a certain spark.
So brand new subjects she did create. New children to bring joy to her forlorn state. To be here favored was their fate, but her happiness did soon deflate. They were static, unchanging, more jailed inmates. Just like all spirits who did predate. But her cause would not abate. For her children, she needed a gate.
In the spirit realm, they would be safe and aglow. But she made them akin to dough. Experiences were needed to mold them, but she could only woe. For this realm was ruled by status quo. However the solution she did know. Her children needed form to grow.
She gathered volunteers and gave them form, opening the way to this mortal world. This gate was treacherous, spirit wind whipped and whirled. Soon their directions became all twirled. In different directions they were hurled. Marks appeared where the winds swirled. Patterns of black on white fur unfurled.
Still they pushed on, undeterred. A powerful soul leading each herd. These spirits called out, their voiced stirred. The hearts of the zebra had been spurred. Soon one got out, then second, then third. Soon the last had moved forward.
Soon we found ourselves in grassland. Though not together, some in mountains, jungles, and beach sand. Still our mother smiled as we proved what we could withstand. Her plan complete, it would be grand. But the other spirits failed to understand.
She was empowered by our physical form. So to the idea they began to warm. Soon they created their own swarm. They followed our paths so suffered no deform. Some were friends, some came like a storm.
The lions are vicious, hateful foes. The gazelle are graceful and strike a pose. The hippos greed and rage grows. While the elephant shows repose. The hyenas they do impose - and the cheetahs bring us woes.
We hurt, we fight, they scratch and bite. But we do not fall quietly into the night. The Matriarch does not ignore our plight. Ten years of paradise is our right. Then when our soul is once more alight, a body awaits that’s black and white. We push through the wind to that first light, and will show this world a Zebra’s might.
The shapes of fiery zebras and aliens faded from the smoke as Zul’ten’s story ended, and he smiled to the fillies and mares who had watched it in awe. He chuckled at that, “It has been a while since I told that story. I apologize if I embellished it’s glory.” He shrugged and gathered up his saddlebags.
“That was really pretty.” The young white pony he knew as Sweetie Belle finally said.
“Uh, pretty AWESOME!” Rainbow interjected as she and Scootaloo talked about some of the more action filled parts of the story. The zebra only chuckled and turned to leave.
“Oh! Zul’ten, it’s late would you like to spend the night in our camp? We have an extra tent, just in case.” Holiday had stopped him with a friendly smile to give the offer, but he shook his head.
“I would normally agree with cheer, but I need to check on my sister dear.” Of course he had not gotten far down the trail after leaving the camp when a voice came from a tree.
“You always play that up so much, dear brother.” A feminine giggle followed that statement as a second zebra walked onto the trail.
He smiled towards her, “And foals eat it up like no other.” He said, continuing down the trail.
“Did you have to pick rhyming for you spirit pact?” She said back with a smirk, hey gray mane and braided tail bouncing a bit as she trotted to catch up to him and lean against him.
“I did, as a matter of fact.”
“Stop rhyming with me.”
“It is fun you know. But also no.”