“Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui. Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui. Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui…”

The unending chant rolled through the dark forest. Daring Do stood before the fractured monolith, staring into the shadows between the trees. Vague shapes, ebony against charcoal, shifted just beyond the feeble, flickering light of her torch, melting away whenever she tried to look closer.

Hoofsteps in the darkness bade her to turn around. Daring Do watched as a line of mares in vivid green cloaks approached her, wide smiles on their faces as they continued the chant. Amongst the troop of nuns were several ponies in filthy clothing, dancing around the sisters as they crowed their chant in between howls and laughter.

“Where…where are you going?” Daring Do asked, but the sisters and their charges just moved around her, continuing their intonation as they entered the circle of menhirs and laid themselves down upon the slabs of stone. And Daring’s blood ran cold as she noticed the daggers sheathed to their belts.

“Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui. Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui.”

The last of the sisters passed her, then paused and turned back. With a comforting smile, she raised a hoof and dreamily extended to Daring, beckoning her on.

Daring took a step forward.

Then another.

Then another.

Her heart hammering in her throat, Daring tried to stop herself, but her hooves continued onwards. She fought every step, every movement, she tried to pull away, but the nun beckoned her again, that serene smile still plastered on her face. Daring glanced at the stone and saw that the x-shaped pupil was tracking her movements; she thought she saw delight in that unnatural carved eye.

“MICCA AHUIZOTL CHIXTOC TEMIQUI! MICCA AHUIZOTL CHIXTOC TEMIQUI!”

The chanting of the prostrate nuns and the dancing lunatics had reached deafening volumes, every syllable hammering into Daring’s head. Her hoof extended as if connected to a puppet’s string and took the extended limb.

A great roar hammered through the air, making the trees shake. It emerged from the shadows, drool cascading from its bared teeth, eyes alight with malice. With a hungry growl, the Beast lunged at her with its hind paw…

Daring Do jolted awake in her sleeping bag, gasping for air. The dim light filtering through the canvas informed her that it was early morning and a glance around proved that no intruders were within her tent. It still took several moments and many deep breaths for her heart rate to return to its normal pace.

Shaking her head, Daring Do grabbed a canteen, guzzled down a long drink, then exited the tent into the hazy half-light of a forest dawn. Zecora was the only one awake, standing on one hind leg before a lazily crackling fire, forehooves clasped in apparent meditation. Yawning deeply, Daring headed for the latrine ditch, the memory of the dream still clinging to her mind.

When she returned, Zecora lazily opened her eyes to behold her. “Ụtụtụ ọma,” the zebra greeted her.

“Morning,” Daring nodded, taking off from the ground to retrieve the cooler of food that they’d hung from an overhead tree. Bringing it back to the ground, she dug around to retrieve coffee, eggs, bread, and hay bacon while Zecora stoked the fire to a stronger blaze and grabbed a pan and kettle from their equipment. Soon, the scent of cooking breakfast filled the air, making Daring’s stomach rumble in anticipation.

The sound of a zipper announced Caballeron’s awakening. He yawned and blinked blearily, scratching at the ever-present stubble around his jaw. “Of course you wake up once the food is ready,” Daring teased, scraping the first serving of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast from the pan.

“Don’t flatter yourself, amiga,” Caballeron countered. “You’re no cordon bleu chef.”

Daring stuck her tongue out at him as Twilight and Spike emerged from their tent. “Sorry that my culinary education doesn’t meet your exacting standards, Doctor!”

Everyone gathered around for breakfast. Daring tried to keep her focus on the taste of the eggs and bacon, but her mind kept drifting back to the dream; again and again, she heard the faint echoes of that damned chant in her ears.

“Professor, you seem to be most preoccupied,” Zecora’s voice cut in on her thoughts. “Tell us, friend, what is on your mind?”

Daring rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “Just…had a weird dream last night,” she admitted. “I think I’ve had the Verdant Sisterhood on my mind.”

“As have I,” Caballeron said. “I’m still wondering how the Sisters knew of this place, or why they felt it so important to come here.”

“These sisters, I’ve heard you speak of them before,” Zecora frowned. “Perhaps it is time you tell me their lore.”

Daring and Caballeron glanced at each other, and Daring took a slow, preparatory breath. “There was a monastery in the Whitetail Woods about two hundred years ago. It was occupied by a group of charitable nuns,” she explained. “They took in and cared for insane ponies, but one of them…convinced the nuns to start worshipping some kind of deity called Ahuizotl.”

Zecora’s eyes widened at the name, then narrowed as her lips drew into a thin line. Daring paused to swallow the last pieces of her eggs.

“We found a book they left behind, a journal,” she continued. “It said that they were all going into the Forest to look for some…stone ruins for some reason. It ended with a sketch of an eye.”

She got up and headed into her tent, retrieving a copy of the transcript from her tent. She brought it back to the campfire, flipped to the last page, and passed it to Zecora. Zecora’s eyes widened once more as she saw the illustration of the tri-lobed eye, darting from the binder to the stone and back again. She flipped back a page and began to read the transcription herself.

“Whatever the connection between this site and the Sisterhood, we must discover it,” Caballeron said eagerly, chartreuse eyes shining with anticipation. “It could give us so many answers about them, about Thicket, about the Ahuizotl!”

“Answers that you might not like,” Zecora said grimly.

Everyone else around the campfire stared in surprise, both at her tone and the fact that she had not spoken in rhyme. Zecora looked down at the copy of the Liber and closed it, her face drawn into a serious frown.

“The Ahuizotl is more than a mere beast,” Zecora said. “Long ago. it served as a priest to evil ndi mmuo, invisible beings that falsely presented themselves as gods. You know them by many names: Discord, Tirac, Tantabus, Grogar, and hundreds of others in many different tongues. The good arusi and their followers clashed with the Ahuizotl and its cultists, the battle going back and forth between them, both in this world and in the worlds beyond.

“In time, the good arusi were able to defeat and imprison the false gods and establish their benevolent rule over the world. The Ahuizotl was broken and left defeated and without most of its power, but it had one escape: it hid itself in a secret tomb to wait until the world was ripe again for it and its masters. Dead, but dreaming.

“Since then it has called out in dreams and visions to the weak-minded and the immoral, trying to set the stage for its return.” She glanced down at the Liber. “These nuns were swayed by the beast. Whatever they did here…it cannot have been good.”

“Well, I’m convinced. Let’s get out of here!” Spike said, hopping up and grabbing his knapsack.

“How do you know all this?” Twilight asked, grabbing Spike’s tail in her magic without looking at him. “We all looked extensively through our libraries and found very little about the Ahuizotl.”

“I learned from my teacher, who learned from her teacher, and down the line for centuries,” Zecora answered.

“Interesting,” Twilight said, jotting down notes.

“Interesting?! Twilight, did you not hear the part about completely insane ponies worshipping a monster?!” Spike cried.

“Spike, it’s just a legend…er, no offense, Zecora,” Twilight added hastily in response to Zecora’s frown. “A connection between these legends is interesting, surely, but it’s not a reason to panic.”

“Agreed,” Caballeron declared, standing. “While I respect your people’s history and stories, Señora Zecora, there is an important discovery here and I will not allow ghost stories to stop me from finding it.”

Zecora closed her eyes and took a breath. “My intentions you misunderstand,” she said placidly. “In your way, I will not stand. Whatever secrets in this forest dwell, I intend to uncover as well. This story I told merely to inform and to hopefully serve to warn.”

“Bien,” Caballeron declared, placing his dishes aside. “¡Vamonos, we have work to do!”

Zecora passed the binder back to Daring, but her eyes were focused on Caballeron’s back, her mouth drawn into a doubtful frown.

“Hey, ease off,” Daring hissed. “He’s got an ego, but he’s no lunatic.”

Zecora glanced at Daring but turned away without saying anything. Daring put the binder back into the tent and grabbed a shovel.

The group returned to their task of locating, excavating, and documenting the fragments of the stela that had been scattered across the ground. Every example of the alien script, a swirling alphabet of artistic loops, swirls, and zigzags, was carefully photographed and recreated in Daring’s sketchbooks as the hours wore on. The sound of the forest continued around them in the distance, a continual chorus of bird calls, rustling leaves, and the occasional distant roar that caused them all to freeze, staring into the shadows between the trees before slowly returning to their tasks.

The sun was already past its zenith when they paused for a late lunch. Daring spread the sketches of the fragments out on the ground before her, frowning as she arranged them like a giant jigsaw puzzle.

“Almost got it…” she said, tongue between her teeth. She shifted a couple of pieces, paused to study her work, then grinned. “Done!”

Everyone gathered around to study the drawing, witnessing the story that the illustrations told.

The first picture showed several quadrupedal creatures standing around a set of standing stones, all of them holding torches. Each of the creatures had a short, pointed tail and two branch-like horns on top of their head. Above the stones hovered a bizarre shape: what looked like a crab with two pairs of bat-like wings extending from its back, with the tri-lobed eye in the center of its body.

“Are those…deer?” Daring asked.

“Incredible. I always thought they were just a legend!” Twilight gasped.

“Thicket!” Caballeron cried, looking ecstatic. “We have it at last, legitimate proof of not just a new culture, a new species, but a settlement within the Everfree Forest itself! This will rock the archaeological world! Our names shall be remembered forever!”

“Hold off on the press conference, Cabbie,” Daring said. “We’re not finished here.”

“Are we just gonna forget about that thing?” Spike asked, pointing at the winged crab-beast.

“What are they doing to it?” Twilight pondered.

“Looks like some kind of ritual…” Daring said, pointing to one particular deer that was wearing a heart-shaped amulet around its neck. Their antlers, which were larger than most of the other deer, appeared to be glowing, and they were raising their forelegs up towards the flying monster. Thin chains, also glowing, were attached between the monster and the stones.

“Looks like they’re binding it to the stones,” Daring commented. She frowned at the hieroglyphs that surrounded the illustration, mentally comparing the script to her mental library and failing to identify the language. “Argh, what is this language? If I could read it, then we’d understand more.”

“Perhaps there are some clues in this image of a torch here,” Caballeron said, pointing to an etching of a torch on the left side of the stone. The picture was accompanied by several smaller pictures of what appeared to be herbs and plants, with instructions to combine them into fuel.

“I do recognize a few of these plants,” Zecora said. “Here is rotgrass, for keeping away ants. This is nightkiss, and the deadly dust pea. These are all native to the Everfree.”

“The torches appear to be important to whatever they’re doing,” Daring observed, turning her attention back to the ritual. “Here, look at this one.” She pointed at one deer, who appeared to be thrusting their torch at an extended tendril of the beast. “It’s like the fire is…hurting it, or repelling it.”

“Perhaps it is time we turned our attention to the menhirs themselves,” Cablleron posited.

“Right. Let’s get the camera set up while we still have some good lighting,” Daring said, rising.

The rest of the afternoon was spent taking careful photographs and sketches of the standing stones, with some initial observations that included Twilight sweeping the granite with a variety of spells before declaring that they were devoid of any latent magic that she could find.

“So what’s so special about these big rocks?” Spike asked, helping to haul the camera tripod for another shot. “They look to me like they just placed them down wherever.”

“The larger stones form a rough circle, which can be used to focus magic within it,” Twilight explained. “A circle like this is one of the simplest of magical constructs: it can be as simple as a circle drawn with salt or chalk, or something massive like this, which was probably needed to contain a great deal of energy. The flat stones within are probably for directing the flow of energy within the circle. All this just proves that the deer who built this must have had intricate theories of spellcraft! We’re already learning so much!” she squeed in delight.

Zecora, in the meantime, was sketching the work in Daring’s open sketchbook. A contemplative frown was stuck on her face, her brow furrowed. “These be the locks, these be the walls,” she mused, seemingly to herself, as she looked from the flat slabs to the standing monoliths. “Within the beast waits until someone calls.”

“Zecora?” Twilight asked. “What’s wrong?”

Zecora frowned at Twilight “My stories you don’t believe, Twilight, so I won’t cause a scene or a fight. But the size of this circle great power implies; we should be cautious if we are wise.”

“Zecora, I didn’t feel any magic within these stones,” Twilight reassured her. “But…you’re right. A stone circle as large as this would mean that it was used for powerful magic. We should be careful regardless.”

“Twilight? You’re sure that there’s not a monster trapped in here?” Spike asked nervously, glancing at the ground.

“Spike, if there was any magic or anything within this circle, my detector spells would have picked them up,” Twilight reassured him. “We have nothing to worry about.”

Spike looked unconvinced, but he resumed his work, setting up the tripod for Daring’s next shot. Daring crouched over the camera, glancing over at Zecora while fiddling with the knobs. Zecora glanced up from her sketch and frowned back at Daring. Daring cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the camera.

“Get some shots of the horizontal stones next, Daring,” Caballeron suggested as Daring took her photographs.

“Right. Twilight, I’m gonna need some more light on this,” Daring said, turning the camera around and looking through the viewfinder.

A grinning skull stared back at her from the slab, resting at the head of a body clad in a verdant robe. Daring gasped and leaped away from the camera, her heart leaping into her throat.

“Professor Do? What’s wrong?” Twilight asked.

Daring looked back at the stone slab, which was devoid of any corpses. She sighed and ordered her heart to return to its normal place in her chest. “I’m all right,” she said with a forced grin. “I think a bug bit me.” She casually glanced behind her, swishing her tail as if to chase off any errant mosquitoes, then returned to the camera, trying not to brace herself. Thankfully, no skulls were looking back at her through the glass and she took her photographs without any further incident.

By the time they were done with the initial surveying, the sun was well on its way down, and shadows were stretching across the ground. As the song of birds and insects began once more, most of the group retired to the campfire, where Spike set to work crafting goulash. The scent of the bubbling concoction made Daring’s mouth water as she set once more to studying the image of the stela.

“Hmm…there are repeating symbols and double symbols, so it’s probably an alphabet instead of hieroglyphs,” she mused, scribbling down notes. “And knowing some of the plants' names is a clue…of course, the deer might have different names for them…hey, Cabbie, come over here and let me pick your brain on this,” she called to her colleague.

Caballeron was busy searching through the ground with a sifting screen, running the dirt through the metal screen in search of any clues, working by the light of a lantern. He frowned up at her. “That stela is not enough information to translate the language of Thicket, Daring,” he said. “Our time would be better spent searching for additional clues here.” He pulled another shovelful of dirt into the screen and began sifting it again.

Daring sighed and returned to her own work. After another fifteen minutes, though, she was forced to cede defeat and got up to stretch her legs. She spotted Zecora balancing on one leg some distance from the fire, her eyes closed and front hooves clasped in front of her. Daring strolled over to the zebra and sat down next to her.

Zecora opened up an eye to greet her. “My professor friend, I am not blind. There is something on your mind,” she said.

Daring glanced over to make sure that Spike and Twilight were occupied with preparing the dinner. “Level with me,” she said quietly. “You talk like we’re messing with shit we shouldn’t, but you aren’t trying to stop us or anything.”

Zecora lowered herself back to four legs. “As I said, I’m not going to try to stop you; I have my own reasons for wanting to uncover the truth here,” she admitted. “I simply understand that there are risks to studying secrets like this.” She glanced away. “Great risks.”

“So you really think that there’s a monster trapped in these stones?” Daring whispered.

“I can’t say for sure,” Zecora answered. “But you saw that stone.” She raised an eyebrow. “And you’ve been dreaming of those nuns, haven’t you?”

Daring tried to repress a shudder as the grinning skull flashed before her face. “...yeah,” she admitted.

Zecora nodded. “I’ve…had similar visions,” she admitted. “A place like this can leave…echoes.”

Daring frowned. “I’m not sure I’m ready to believe in…ghosts,” she said.

“You’re at least open-minded about it,” Zecora said. “Which is more than can be said for some,” she grumbled, shooting a glance at Twilight.

Daring paused to gather her thoughts, rubbing her hooves against the night chill. “What do you mean, risks?” she asked.

Zecora’s mouth twisted as she turned away, as though she were trying to swallow back an answer. “If you don’t know what you’re doing…it can cost lives,” she admitted quietly.

“Something bad happened back at home, didn’t it?” Daring pressed.

Zecora stiffened, then closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “It did,” she said simply, anger and hurt weighing down her tone. The statement made it clear that the subject was not up for discussion.

“Amigos. You should see this,” Caballeron called. Daring internally sighed in relief.

The others gathered around him and stared at the object sitting amidst the dirt and pebbles on the sifting pan. Daring felt her stomach drop as she identified the pale yellow items. At first glance, they might be mistaken for oddly square-shaped pebbles and a round, smooth stone.

But they all knew better. A set of teeth and a kneecap sat on the sifting screen, revealed to the sun for the first time in almost two hundred years.

Author's Note

Dun-dun-dunnn!

To be honest, I hadn't originally planned to connect this story and the previous story; they were both meant to stand on their own. But while I was finalizing Whispers of the Whitetail Woods and working on this, the idea to fit them together fell in and it worked! I'm really proud to connect them like this, and I'm excited to show you more of what I have planned!

Zecora's been an interesting character to write. I did want to carry over the "wise mentor" archetype that she was meant to be in the show, but I had to be careful not to make her too wise and powerful, and to make sure that she had some flaws.

Oh, and her not rhyming? I knew from the start that I couldn't have her rhyming constantly, because I'd drive myself nuts having to write all of her dialogue in rhyme, so I decided that if she needs to say something important and get info across quickly, she'd drop the rhyme. For all of the Season 10 comics' flaws, I do appreciate them showing that Zecora (semi-)canonically is willing to speak normally if need be.

Anyway! Now that we've gotten to the real twist, I hope that you're fully invested and looking forward to more!