The Poison of Passion

Alright, now you’re getting finicky again. You should have found that silver tulip ten minutes ago! And there’s no sign of it anywhere.

“Maybe we missed it.” you suggest, “I mean, it’s pretty dark here in the Everfree Forest. It always is. Maybe we just walked right past it.”

“If we passed the silver tulip, we’d know,” your friend replies, “You see, this mythical flower can… glow.”

She draws to a halt, her eyes blinking at something beyond the trees. Something bright. Something glowing.

“Is that it? The flower we seek?” she gasps, “I told you we wouldn’t miss its mystique!”

Despite the anxiety that surrounds you in this forest, the sight of the mature and wise Zecora trying to hold back her excitement was just endearing. Cute, even.

“Ladies first,” you chuckle, “You’re the one with the basket after all.”

Your friend gracefully takes the lead, pushing away the last few bushes between you and the object you both sought.

And there it is; the silver tulip, nestling in the middle of the black stump of an ash tree, marking where the lightning had struck days and days ago. Its gentle white glow lights up every tree, bush, rock and vine of the forest. And best of all, it lights up a certain zebra.

The glowing source of light causes each and every piece of her jewellery to glisten, but none of them compare to the twinkling in those bright, wary eyes of hers. Despite walking through a forest of monsters and menaces, she’s just as pristine as she was when she left her hut. Each hair of her mane is still in place, bristled upwards, only adding to her height, and furthermore, her beauty. Her lips are perfect too, curled up in a gentle smile, be it from finding what she was after, or simply seeing you smile as well.

She’s absolutely gorgeous.

“Our treasure is found,” she beams, “We’ve done our duty. What do you think of this glowing beauty?”

Okay, screw it. You have something to tell her, and you’re going to tell her right now.

“Yeah, it sure is beautiful, isn’t it, Zecora?” you divert your gaze towards the silver tulip itself; you’re finding it nerve-wracking to look into her eyes any longer, “It’s almost as beautiful as you.”

There. You’ve said it. You hear her gasp a little. For all of her wisdom, serenity and knowledge, she’s never been one for taking a compliment in terms of her beauty. But if you didn’t tell her now, you never would have.

“I… I, um, don’t know how to respond…” she stutters, “Are you just being polite, or are you… genuinely fond?”

“No. I mean it. You really are.” You never take your eyes off the glowing plant, for you fear Zecora may be giving you a look of confusion, or even disapproval. All the same, you keep spilling your true feelings, “Trust me when I say this, Zecora, I… I love-”

Something’s not right. Something’s very wrong. You’ve been here before. You’ve seen this all before.

It’s right behind her.

“What-? NO! ZECORA, GET BACK!”

It all happens so fast. A flash of sharp, white teeth appear just behind Zecora’s back. So many teeth. A threatening hiss was the only warning it was going to give before pouncing.

You grab Zecora. You hold her close, covering her with your body and your wings, sheltering her from the incoming attack. In that split second, you see the attackers; several heads, all of them in the form of marble-white cobras. At least four of them. Their neck combine lower down, ending in a single tail.

This isn’t four cobras attacking you. It’s a single four-headed beast.

A rush of pain shoots through you as a pair of fangs penetrate your neck. If you hadn’t jumped in front of Zecora at the last moment, it would’ve been hers.

Another bite, this time on your lower crest, sending another sting through your spine. And another on your hind leg. And a fourth and final snap of jaws on your left wing. You yelp from the pain of its many vice-like jaws, but no matter what, you keep Zecora safe.

Once you’re certain that she’s safe from the monster’s onslaught, you throw yourself onto your back. You feel a crunch as one of the snake’s heads is crushed beneath your sheer force. The other three heads hiss in agony, releasing their toothy grip on your flesh.

Before they can recuperate for another attack, you pick up the monster’s tail with your own bared teeth, and swing it with all your might into the nearest rock. Another crunch from another one of its heads. You keep swinging the snake around, hitting it on a tree until the third head stops responding. And finally, you throw it onto the floor, crushing its final head under a rear hoof, grinding it into the dirt.

And just like that, it’s all over.

Ignoring the rapidly spreading throbs where you had been bitten, you turn to the zebra. Her jaw’s dropped at the sight of your actions.

“First the… stony-chicken thing… and now that!” you croak playfully, just as your legs start to weaken, “I don’t think much of your neighbours, Zecora!”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your legs give in. Your stomach retches. And you collapse on the spot. A moment later, you choke and vomit.

Well, so much for telling her your true feelings and being all tender and loving in front of the magical glowing flower. Now you’re writhing on the ground, in searing agony, in a pile of your own sick. Well done. Smoothest romantic confession ever. Dumb ass.

Without a second’s hesitation, Zecora’s hooves roll you onto your stomach. She doesn’t take long inspecting the bite marks - Argh, that one hurt! - before trying to pick you up and hoist you onto her back.

“Four bites, four! From a Lernaean snake! We’re heading back now, before it’s too late.”

“What… are you doing?” your voice is so rough it can scarcely be heard. You grunt in pain as she settles you on top of her. “Get that flower. It’s right… there…”

“Your life’s more important than some glowing plant!” her voice shivers. She’s panicking. Or trying hard not to. “Flowers can grow somewhere else. You can’t!”

It took a moment, in your blurring mind, for what she was trying to say to sink in. Poison.

She’s already galloping at full speed through the forest, each bump and scrape making you feel more and more nauseous.

“You're going to be alright, just hold on to me tight! I know the antidote’s recipe, just stay alive! Stay with me!”

You do as she says, holding on as tightly as your feeble body can muster. You’re so weak your wings droop pitifully either side of you. You don’t want to fall off. You don’t want to slow her down.

You don’t want to die. Not like this.

The temptation to conserve your energy… to close your eyes and sleep, just for a little while… it’s overwhelming. But so is the fear of never waking up.

So you try to keep your eyes open. Every now and then the feeling of Zecora rushing through some trees or leaping over a bush jolts you wide awake, but only for a few scant seconds at most.

Your vision starts to cloud over. The only sound you can hear is your friend’s frenzied galloping, accompanied by the occasional fearful whimper. Poor Zecora. All she wanted was a pretty flower. She doesn’t deserve this.

She doesn’t deserve a stupid fool like you. Just close your eyes and get it over with. She’ll be better off spending her life without having to stick her neck out for you.

The noise of your surroundings fade. The dull, poisonous pain grows numb. Your tired eyes and your hazy mind welcome the incoming black.