Hatred would be Better...
Zecora slowly stirred her cauldron, humming quietly to herself as the mixture slowly bubbled and swirled below. A wondrous mélange of scents rose up from the substance, all varieties of herbs and spices. She pulled the stirring rod out of the cauldron and set it aside, going over to her book to consult it carefully. After a short reading, she moved to the shelves and took up a bottle, bringing it over and shaking a few sprinkles into the bubbling vat.
“Hey, Zecora! What’s goin’ on?” Applebloom trotted cheerfully into the hut, a huge smile on her face.
“Applebloom, my little dove/ I have something you might love.” Zecora dipped a ladle into the cauldron and poured out a quantity of the liquid into a small bowl. “Let it cool a little space/ I would not want you burn your face.” The bowl was settled down on a low table, sized properly for a little filly.
Applebloom blew softly on the liquid for a time and then slowly sipped at it. “Wow! This is delicious! What is it? Some new kinda potion ‘r some kinda cure fer sumthin’?”
Zecora laughed musically and ruffled Applebloom’s mane playfully. “No no, my sweet, I assert:/ It is a traditional dessert.”
Applebloom sipped a few more mouthfuls, smiling brightly. “It’s really good. Could maybe use a few apples. But that’s alright! I don’t think you had many apples back where yer from.”
“No, indeed, back in my home,/ We lived well on baobab alone.” Zecora stirred the cauldron slowly, while she thought back on her old home.
Out on the Grand Veldt, zebras lived well, in good standing with both the Principality of Equestria and the Kingdom of the Griffins. Border squabbles over the exact demarcation of griffin and zebra holdings were infrequent, as zebras had little need to begrudge a few yards, and griffins had little use for the land itself but merely needed some excuse to be noticed. Thanks to the comfortable nature of the relationships, the zebra were free to engage in their lives free of meddling and pressure, though they very often found themselves visited by ponies and griffins, which suited them well; they traveled just as often when they had means at their disposal.
Many zebras lived in grand and ancient stone and metal cities built to hug the edge of desert spaces and near large oasi, while some of the zebras lived in tribal bands of many families, which were all organized around one mare or stallion that was the family head according to the pronouncements of certain soothsayers. The family head was traditionally allowed more than one husband or wife but it was not required. These heads were subordinate to the tribal chief, one selected by the family heads from among candidates determined by the soothsayers. Each tribe was largely autonomous but the chiefs would meet to make important decisions as a kind of council, typically dealing with matters related to territorial rights, inter-tribal justice and matters not controlled by the more formal government located in Maliganuktu, the largest and most ancient of the zebra holdings.
Tribal territories involved one or more smaller watering holes, with a semi-permanent settlement, as well as several other small villages for seasonal or special habitation. They also maintained areas where veldt grass could freely grow, and had their own small stands of acacia and baobab trees. They cultivated medicinal herbs and trees, having a long and strong tradition of natural magic somewhat akin to the earth ponies of Equestria, as well as a great knowledge of herbalism, using native plants and those from abroad.
Technologically, the tribal bands rested comfortably at around the level of Cannonites without the unwillingness to use advanced devices when available, while the city zebras were very much in the range of Griffin Kingdom or modest Equestria. They could feed their people, they could freely travel, and they were well protected from what existed on the Grand Veldt. The tribal groups occasionally enjoyed pony-made or griffin-made objects such as metal cauldrons and lanterns. They also allowed, and encouraged, larger structures from Equestrians and Griffins, including embassies and small towns within their territories and outside the larger political environs of the formal government. Mixing was common, both friendly and more so, and some of the initially-tribal zebras chose to live in the cities, out of the traditional bands.
The young Zecora was born in one of the tribes, who lived in an area close to an Equestrian-settled town. Her family was headed by a mare with three husbands, and she was second born of the mating with the first husband. She was not held up with any special reverence, but she did not lack any love. She was trained in the normal arts. Plant care, cuisine, herbalism, and magic. She was also taught the ways of the near neighbors, the Equestrians, including lessons in the language. As the flow of similar sounds aided understanding, she learned Equestrian with a certain meter and rhyme, eventually making her unable to stop rhyming in order to simply speak the tongue.
Zebras, like ponies, received Cutie Marks, known as Spirit Marks. They were not generally associated with a talent, but rather held to represent something about the zebra's future. They were typically gained at the cusp of maturity, when the zebra was considered an adult. Zecora was no exception. Though young, still somewhat of a filly, her sun sign appeared, leading the tribal soothsayer to cast numerous fortunes and think long on it.
The tradition for Spirit Marking was to send the new adult on a journey, to see the world as far as they desired. Most joined other tribes on the veldt. Some went to the cities. A few went into the griffin and pony lands. Almost all came back. Because of the nature of the mark, Zecora was told she MUST make her journey to the pony lands, where the sun rose and set. Her tribe prepared her for the journey and wept to see her go. But not too strongly. They, after all, assumed they would see her again someday.
That had been years ago.
The Everfree forest was a wonderland of herbal ingredients. The climate of Equestria, in the section around Everfree, was mild and far more agreeable than the veldt. Water was plentiful, food was varied, and the citizenry was… But everything else was wonderful. Her journey of learning was never made with a built-in time period. But there was always the assumption it would not take too long.
Zecora remained in Equestria because she felt unfulfilled. She didn't mind the avoidance and uncertainty; those not near the borderlands had hardly any experience with zebras. She found it almost unbearable because the environment was right, and still she felt incomplete. She was there for some purpose, and she would find it no matter what.
She found it the moment the little filly came to her hut, unafraid, and questioned her. It wasn't just the little act of kindness the filly showed after an explanation of what had happened. It wasn't merely her sweet features and willing eagerness to help in her endeavors. The moment they met there was almost the feeling of a connection, an imperceptible pull between the two. She did nothing more than mentor, but followed the lead Applebloom gave. She was smitten too. It was almost more happiness than she could have hoped.
"Zecora? Zecora?" Applebloom broke her from her reverie, nudging at her chest softly. "Kin ah have some more?"
"Of course you may; and eat it well./ I'll give you some to take,/ So when you hunger yet again/ You may freely slake." Zecora ladled out more of the sweetly-flavored broth, and lovingly rubbed Applebloom's mane as the filly ate.
"Mmm. Yer talkin' is always so purty, Zecora. Ah wish Granny Smith could hear ya. Ah jes knows she'd like it."
"That, I fear, would not be wise, passing under her tired, old eyes./ Let all this go and drop to the floor; we need not think on it any more." Zecora returned to stirring the cauldron, leaving Applebloom to eat. And think.
Applebloom kept her word, she said nothing to her grandmother, despite her great desire to do so. But Granny Smith was a shrewd lady. She could see that Applebloom was happier than she had been in the time before the meeting with Zecora. Applebloom was also more often seen to walk off to the Everfree Forest and return after many hours, following doing her chores as quickly with as much quality as was necessary and no more. Finally, there were strange smells and the sound of bubbling all around, strange plants being cultivated in window boxes or hanging in drying bunches in Applebloom's room, the mark of a budding herbalist.
The evidence added up in Granny Smith's mind. Only one being in the Ponyville area knew much about herbalism, and they happened to live in Everfree. And that kind of happiness, well... That was what Adam Apple had done for Eugenia before she was a Granny. Applebloom was in love. In love with a zebra. She knew just what to do with the little filly...
"Kinfolk..." Granny Smith rose to her hooves at dinner one night, looking seriously around the table at her grandchildren. "Ah have come to the realization that one of our lil comp'ny is in love." The three grandchildren looked at each other. Applejack looked confused; Big Macintosh was sweating despite his calm face; and Applebloom looked very worried.
"But, uhh... Granny, y'know ah'm in love. We have Rainbow Dash here every week fer one feast 'r another. T'aint much of a mystery." Applejack looked at her grandmother with a tilted head.
"T'aint you ah mean, mah dear. It's..." Granny raised a shaky hoof and swept it slowly. Big Macintosh was sweating buckets as it passed over his, his expression almost cracking. But the hoof did not stay and instead passed to Applebloom and settled there, shaking lightly with her natural palsy. "Our litt'lest one. Mah other dear Filly Fooler. She's been spending time in the forest, learnin' the ways a' herbalism, and fallin' in love with that zebra out there."
"G-granny! Wait! Ah kin explain..!" Applebloom stood up on her chair, eyes wide and worried.
"There's no explainin'. Ah knows what we gotta do..." Granny Smith inhaled strongly before breaking her stern look into a huge smile. "We's gotta have us a lil soir-ee fer this Zee-cora an' make her feel welcome in our lil clan."
Silence reigned for a long while. Applebloom still looked worried, rather than relieved. But both Applejack and Big Macintosh looked incredibly confused. That was not at all like the Granny they knew. "Uuhh... Granny? A git-together fer Zecora? Y'd actually do it?" Big Macintosh had seen Granny in her flush period longer than his sisters. He knew her ways better, if only slightly, than Applejack, who was just as flummoxed. "That's a bit, uh, surprisin'."
"Well now why 'r y'all looking so surprised? Y'look like y'never seen a happy granny tryin' t'keep a mare innerested in one a' mah kin."
"Well, now, Granny, that ain't it." Applejack broke in, looking at Big Macintosh. She knew what he was getting at, even if her knowledge was more vague than his. "But she ain't like Rainbow Dash, y'know..." Applejack loaded her words with as much innuendo as she could, to avoid calling the old bigot an old bigot to her face.
"Well what d'ya mean, dear? She's jes like yer Dash. She's an upstandin' mare with a good job AN' her own property. Landowners are good fer our standin'. Are y'all worried about the age? Bah! Why, back home in mah day y'had these spring-summer matches. Younger mares 'n stallions matched up with th' older fer the status and because they had th' feelin' in their hearts." Granny considered the objections for a moment and then said, "Wait a minute, d'y'all mean because she's a zebra?"
Applejack and Big Macintosh looked between one another, Applebloom finally looking confused. "It's jes not common in the family, is all..." Applejack began, eyes daring rapidly towards the wall that once held the picture of her cousin Braeburn.
"Bah! What's not t'like? She not only goes in easy t'hybridize, but them zebras has their own Cutie Marks. Why, they's jes like real ponies!" That last statement brought another confused look from Applebloom who didn't understand what had happened. She had been worried about going over the top as things had been with Rainbow Dash. Meanwhile, Applejack and Big Macintosh shared a very, very worried look. That was the kind of statement that had most concerned them.
“Zecora? Ummm… Kin ah talk t’you?” A few days later and Applebloom was in Zecora’s hut once more, pausing in her lessons on herbal preparations to regard the zebra with slight trepidation.
“Of course you may, little one./ Be not afraid and loose your tongue.” Zecora ruffled Applebloom’s mane, smiling down at her.
Applebloom scratched lightly at the dirt floor of the hut, in a passing imitation of Zecora’s own digging. “Well, umm… You know how ah said ah wanted Granny t’hear y’all talk real purty?”
“My dear, I said it was not a good idea;/ To not make her mad is panacea.” Zecora adjusted Applebloom’s mane, looking out the window in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres.
“Why does everypony think she’ll be mad? Big Macintosh and Applejack thought she might be mad too. But she’s not mad. She did what ah didn’t want her t’do. Ah wanted t’find the right time so’s ah could ask her t’listen to you alone. But she’s goin’ plum crazy agin, wants t’have a great, big to-do with you as the guest. She goes crazy about romancin’ cuz she wants us all hitched. Ah mean… Ah likes that she likes you. But ah didn’t want anythin’ t’be big and fancy. But no. She’s talkin’ ‘bout you ownin’ land, and bein’ all good fer me. And she says yer special; not like cousin Little Strongheart, because you gots yerself a Cutie Mark, and she says that makes y’all like a real pony.”
Zecora stiffened when she heard that statement, especially since it dropped so casually, so innocently, from Applebloom’s mouth. That was what cut so deeply. Applebloom was a genuine innocent. She didn’t understand what she was repeating from her grandmother. Such a terrible thing to do to such a sweet filly. “I understand, and I must attend./ Tell the day; I’ll try to make a friend.”
Many days later, after one of Granny Smith’s frighteningly efficient party planning sessions and a flurry of cooking and decorating, the initial get together was ready, and lacking only the guest of honor. She finally emerged out of the Everfree forest, trotting grandly and breathing slowly. Zecora was done up in her Grand Veldt best, wrapped with a colorful cloth in sky blue and leaf green, her golden neck bands and bracelets polished perfectly. Her mohawk was wrapped in a high, stiff cloth hat. She balanced a tray on her back, containing a carved representation of a baobab fruit as well as a few small figures of zebras in traditional masks. When she saw the part set up for the greeting she sighed and trotted slowly up to Granny Smith, who was in her rocking chair. “Greetings great mare and granddam of Applebloom./ It is a great pleasure to be brought here./ Your great and generous favor I do not presume,/ Only know that I hold her dear./ I want you to know I appreciate your toil/ And honor your family, workers of the soil.” She turned slightly and offered the tray of objects. “As a token of esteem I offer you these fine wood carvings made with care in my homeland./ May they bring you joy and bring me to mind when they on your mantel stand.”
Granny Smith looked closely at the offered carvings while she slowly nodded her head. “Applebloom was right. Y’really DO know how t’talk purty. All rhymy and all that. Oh and these little carvin’s ‘r lovely. Looks like a… little, odd-shaped apple. And these lil things here. Are these yer zeeaboo gawds an’ such?”
“Granny!” Applejack ran up from a short distance away, trailed by Big Macintosh and Applebloom. “Now, y’all know we don’ use words like that anymore. Welcome t’our humble homestead, miss Zecora. It’s a great honor t’have y’all here.” Applejack shook hooves with Zecora, smiling far too widely and lightly sweating as she did so.
“Eh? How’s that? Well shoot, what am ah supposed to say? Zig-zee? Zeeba? Zeeb?” Granny enumerated all the words she could while her older grandchildren looked scandalized. Applebloom was confused, and Zecora just stared, disbelieving.
“Jes say ‘zebra’, Granny. Or Zecora. Let’s… get to the feastin’ and games, yea?” Applejack quickly led Zecora away from Granny Smith while Big Macintosh took her tray of carvings to be set aside on one of the set tables.
“Big Macintosh, what’s got y’all so upset?” Applebloom looked up at her brother, eyes huge and curious and begging for answers.
“T’aint nuthin’ y’all needs t’concern yerself with.” Big Macintosh walked off, carefully leading Granny Smith while Applebloom lagged behind, still confused.
Away from the more “proper” food tables set with sit-down meals were tables of small morsels beside traditional games like horseshoe toss, hay bale throwing, barrel slalom and target bucking. Granny Smith settled herself into a second rocking chair placed in the vicinity of the games. “Now ah’m not sure what sort of games zee… ZEBRAS play. But ah thinks y’all’ll like our little selection. They’s good fun! Like that there horseshoe toss. Now ah knows that you zebras ain’t had much experience with horseshoes ‘n’ suchlike, but they’re not so hard t’work out in the game.”
None of the grandchildren interrupted. Those that had a mind to were simply flummoxed by the audacity of what they had heard. Zecora, as before, looked entirely disbelieving. Applebloom, for her part, was already dragging Zecora over towards the horseshoe range. “Come on, Zecora! Let’s throw a few and see how we do.”
With Zecora and Applebloom out of earshot, Applejack sidled up beside Granny Smith and tried to look very friendly. “Now, Granny, ah knows that y’all has been around a long time and ah knows that y’gots yer ways about ya. But… Jes try to hold back all that talk ‘bout how zebras act ‘r’ what they kin do ‘r’ what they know. Ok? It’ll jes make it a whole lot easier.”
Granny Smith looked a little bit indignant, shaking slightly more than usual. “Don’t you talk t’yer granny like that! Ah knows what ah’m doin’! Now let me do mah job. Ah’ve had no complaints from yer mare. Go on, then. Get to th’games an’ such. We gotta keep the zig-zee interested in Applebloom.” The older mare settled comfortably in her chair, not noticing the horrified looks passing between the siblings as they walked away.
The games went off without a hitch, mostly because Granny Smith was sated far enough away that she couldn’t make comments that were noticed amidst the cheering and playing. Zecora, despite her attire, excelled at the barrel slalom, and did reasonably well with horseshoe tossing and target bucking. Her strength wasn’t enough to do well at hay bale tossing, but the Apple grandchildren could see her skill was in agility. During that time they had been enjoying little bits of food like fritters and small tarts, and went to the snack tables whenever a game was over. After a rather close barrel slalom race between Zecora and Applejack the quartet went to the table again. “Whew! That there was some kinda race. Ah expect it outta Rainbow Dash but ah gotta say, miss Zecora, y’all got some legs on you.”
Zecora smiled and nodded to Applejack. “Thank you Applejack my friend,/ I thought I had you at the end.”
Applejack laughed softly. “Rainbow Dash thinks that too. But she’s surprised all the time when ah…”
The whole party stopped when they saw the snack table. Granny Smith was there, working a knife through the tough rind of a cantaloupe, smiling her gummy smile at the approaching youngsters. “Ah thought ah’d cut a little fresh fruit. Zeebs like muskmelon, right? Oh! And ah saw you runnin’ with mah Applejack. Ah guess it’s true y’all zeebs are fast.”
Dinner was a slightly formal affair: salads heavy on apples, vegetable soup, barbecued carrots and broccoli, funnel cakes and apple pie. Through it all Granny Smith was filled with comments. Her flowery compliments and positive comments were all tainted by her casual usage of improper terminology and assumptions that were wild generalizations, everything from physical traits to social myths. Applejack and Big Macintosh could barely eat, they were too busy looking horrified. Applebloom ate only a little bit, but that was because she was watching Zecora. The zebra looked fairly stoic, but there was some hurt behind her eyes, and that bothered the young filly.
The gathering ended with some square dancing, with Granny Smith calling the moves and Zecora gamely following along, under the pall of, “Don’ worry ‘bout nuthin’ kinfolk. Ah hears zebras ‘r’ good at dancin’.” Though Applebloom had fun do-si-do-ing and promenading with Zecora, she could see the hurt behind her eyes was worse than before.
“Well, that was yer first Apple Family soir-ee. Ah sure as HAY hope it ain’t yer last. Ah mean… Ah wanted it t’be. But ah also know yer good fer mah lil sis. And Granny’s gonna want y’all wined and dined. So… Oh miss Zecora, ah hope Granny didn’t scare y’all off.” Applejack hugged Zecora tightly and seemed unwilling to let go.
“I must admit it was strange./ But there was nothing I would change.” Zecora smiled an insincere smile and returned Applejack’s hug.
“Ah’m gonna walk Zecora back home and stay the night. Is that alright, sis?” Applebloom looked up at her sister with a cheery, energetic smile.
“Yea… Yea, Applebloom. That’s probably best. Go on then, keep miss Zecora company.” Applejack nodded her head towards the forest and smiled as the pair walked off.
The trip through Everfree was a strange one. Applebloom excitedly bounced around Zecora for the first half of it, chattering animatedly about how exciting things had been and how special she felt, being the center of attention this time. She stopped abruptly, however, when she realized that Zecora wasn’t responding to anything she said, and seemed to be deep in thought, considering some kind of sad thing given the look in her eyes. As soon as she realized that, Applebloom put a halt to her bouncing and walked as quietly and seriously as Zecora.
Back at the hut, Zecora quickly shed her attire and slumped down before the fireplace, not even bothering to light it. It was Applebloom who brought logs one at a time and stuffed dried moss into the crack, igniting the whole thing with some flint and steel, as she had been shown. “Zecora? What’s the matter? Y’all never leave the fire out like that. And y’seemed so sad durin’ all of that hootenanny, when all we was tryin’ t’do was make y’all feel welcome.”
Zecora smiled, a little of the sadness leaving her as she regarded the innocent filly. “I know with many questions you burn,/ but it is not for little filly’s concern.”
“But ah’m not jes a lil filly! Granny threw a party! That means yer special. And it means ah’m special an’ growin’ up, cuz that party was jes like the ones we have fer Rainbow Dash! Ah may not have a Cutie Mark but ah knows when sumthin’ is wrong. AJ an Big Macintosh kept looking at each other an’ bein’ embarrassed whenever Granny said her funny words. But ah didn’t even unnerstand them. Why was everypony actin’ so strange?”
Zecora bent down, and tenderly kissed Applebloom on the forehead. She had to look at the filly, who was growing by leaps and bounds with every lesson she and the Cutie Mark Crusaders learned, and with every day that passed. She couldn’t be protected from the big, bad world. What little of that big world was bad could take root in a little one and grow up big, strong and poisonous. Like a gnarled, infected tree. There was little remaining from bad times. But she had heard the stories, and had seen a few who were still so terrible. The words cut to the heart, because they came from somepony who believed them. “Listen well to what I assert:/ Careless words can truly hurt./ Your heart may be unspotted pure/ But your listener cannot be sure./ Learn this well and never stray…/” Zecora leaned in to hug Applebloom tightly. “Never drop innocence away.”
Applebloom was confused. She just didn’t understand what had happened. The funny old words meant nothing to her, and she didn’t know how they could make her siblings nervous, or Zecora upset. And to some degree, on some level, it didn’t matter. It was enough to know that they did. That was innocence. Never knowing what made something bad. Only knowing it was. She had no need to learn the why. It was enough that it made those she loved upset. “Don’t y’all worry none. Ah’ll never be like Granny. Never.”
The End
