The Curse of the Verse

Chapters

From The Zebra's Mouth
To the Warlock's House
A Wizard's Treachery
Studies of Alchemy
A Gentle Breeze
Cutie Mark Grief
Manticore Tears
The Kindness of Strangers

From The Zebra's Mouth

Many years after Shadow had finished his work as an agent for Princess Luna, he often found time to just wander through Ponyville and talk to ponies. Really learn about their lives, where they had come from prior to living in Ponyville and exactly how they got there. To be able to simply sit and listen to others talk made Shadow feel at ease after years of being on edge. It was a part of retirement that he did so love.

On one such day, Shadow found himself walking the winding and unkept path to Zecora's home in the Everfree Forest. He watched the trees for predators as he walked but today seemed to be a lazy day for everyone. The ponies in town had moved with a slow contentment that was uncommon from the usual hustle and bustle, and the same seemed to be true even in the forest. Twice Shadow happened across creatures nearly twice his size, that he could not readily identify, but they seemed uninterested in him. They would eye him as he walked, but, perceiving no threat from him, they let him pass undisturbed.

As Shadow followed the path, he recalled the stories some of his friends had told him. Fluttershy's fall from grace, Pinkie's rock farm family, and even Twilight's first few days in town. He found each story fascinating. Though, not every story he heard was a happy one until the very end. Ponyville seemed to have a magical aura all its own that made the residents thrive. Love and happiness was always around. Shadow was unsure if this was the small town mentality or simply a greater cause of ponies wanting to be a part of something greater, with none of them realizing that they were what made it great.

Whatever it was, Shadow liked Ponyville, and, over the years, he had earned many friends. None so strange as the one he now ventured to see. Zecora was a strange pony by nearly any standard. Beyond just being a zebra, she was an earth pony who specialized in a very specific type of magic. Shadow had once called it black magic and she had been quick to correct him.

"Just because a horn I lack, does not mean my magic is black," she had said.

Shadow had rarely inquired further. Her business was her own and he respected her privacy.

Today, however, Shadow would inquire about her past. Although he had never asked her, he was all but certain she had a troubled history. Something about her demeanor made him think she was almost as traveled as he was. And a journey as long as that would undoubtedly have a few bumps.

As he reached the clearing that contained her cottage, he smiled. Her home always looked so inviting in the midst of these dreadful woods.

Knocking gently on her door, she answered in her usual fashion, "A visitor on this beautiful day? Please come in and have a stay." Her voice was cheery.

Zecora had always liked Shadow. He was intelligent, with a mind for the world, and kind hearted. Two traits that she considered paramount among friends. She beckoned him inside and closed the door behind them. Offering him some tea, which he kindly accepted, Zecora sat with her friend.

"So what brings you to my home this day? A walk in the woods or are you astray?"

Shadow chuckled. Her rhymes always made him laugh. "No, Z, I'm not lost. I came to see you. I just wanted to visit for a while and chat."

"Then I'd best brew some more tea for us. And what is it you'd like to discuss?" Zecora rose from her chair and began to gather dishes to make more tea.

"Well, I'd like to hear about, if you're willing to share, how you came to live in Ponyville. Or at least on the edge of it."

Zecora paused as she made the tea, nodding her head slowly with her back to him. "It is not a story I often share. But I will tell it, if to hear it you care."

"I've always cared to hear it, Z. I just haven't always had the time." Shadow sipped at his tea. A surprisingly sweet blend.

"It is good that you have extra time. Have you ever wondered why I speak in rhyme?" Zecora sat at the table once more and refilled Shadow's nearly empty cup.

Shadow nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't. I just figured it was something that your people did. I never thought it was very strange, though. I find it rather pleasing to the ear, in fact. But I remember a day, years ago, when I didn't hear you speak in rhyme. It was just one sentence but it stuck with me."

Zecora smiled faintly. "The day you speak of, I remember well. It was just a week after I finally broke the spell."

Shadow furrowed his brow. "Spell? What spell?"

Zecora shook her head. "Not just a spell, a horrible curse. That forced me to speak in rhyme and verse. It was cast on me when I was a foal. I made removing it my life's goal."

"But you said when you spoke to me that you had broken the spell. If you aren't forced to speak in rhyme anymore, why do you continue to do it?"

Zecora sighed. "Early in life we form habits we often never break. It's much more important when you're life is at stake."

"Are you saying since you were a child that you were forced to rhyme or you would die?"

Zecora nodded, the grief in her face was clear.

"So how did it all happen?"

After a deep breath Zecora spoke clearly and without rhyme, "I suppose I should start from the beginning..."

To the Warlock's House

Despite what you think, my people do not speak in rhyme. Some may, because they have been cursed as I was, or because they simply choose to, but it is not something that is a common occurrence.

The curse that was cast upon me was done so by an angry shaman. He was angry because a certain curious filly had wandered into his home without his permission.

I was quite the adventurer in my youth. I had a thirst for knowledge that could not be quenched. Every day I would wander off in a new direction and not return until I had found something new and exciting with the world. My mother would often scold me for going off alone and so far from our village.

On one such adventuring day I found myself in a forest, not unlike the forest outside my own home. As I wandered through the forest I kept my eyes wide open and stayed alert. Not because I feared the animals but because I did not want to miss anything the earth chose to bless my presence with.

Only after wandering into a clearing that contained a small shack did I stop. I recognized this home. The adults in our village had often told the tale of the miserly old warlock that lived in a cottage deep within the forest. One of the elders who often spoke of the warlock had found his home on accident and drawn a picture of it for everyone to know and avoid.

I remember staring at that shack for several long minutes. I was frozen with indecision. I had one part of my body telling me to continue with my adventure. I had not come this far only to turn home without a new experience.

But my fear kept me rooted in place. It's hard to think your parents would lie to protect you, as a child. You take their word as gospel because they have the wisdom of age, and you simply know no better. And my parents had always told me that if I ever encountered this warlock to turn and run and never look back.

As I stood in place, my mind whirling with what I should do, I had an epiphany. If the eldest man in the village had seen this warlock at a young age and the warlock and been an adult then, surely by now he must be either very, very old or have passed on from this world. Logically, that made quite a bit of sense. Even now, years later, I cannot find fault in my decision to press on.

So, I moved forward, the hair on my neck stood on end as some of my fears could not be quelled. I had been told a great many things about this pony, most of which were tales of just how evil he was. I know today they were not exaggerating.

As I reached to door, I knocked. I did not know what that would accomplish. If he was alive I merely alerted him to my presence. If he was dead I would simply feel foolish. When no answer came, nor sound from inside, I pushed the door open slowly, not crossing the threshold. As if staying just inches from the inside would save me if some magical attack or demon came charging at me.

When nothing came and the inside of the home was revealed I finally stepped inside. It looked like a normal home. It looked like the home I lived in. I began to relax and explore the dark interior.

I remember seeing a great many small idols scattered around, some hanging from the ceiling, some sitting on tables, others scattered on the floor. There were lots of books as well. The titles varied from the mundane to the extraordinary. Some were written in languages I could not comprehend.

As I slowly wandered through the home, I came upon a great black pot with a bubbling green liquid inside it. This was the first sign that the warlock was still alive. I sniffed the concoction and recoiled as the stench burned the inside of my nose. I was becoming greatly uncomfortable and simply leaving this home felt like a great idea.

As I turned to leave though, the doorway through which I had come was blocked by a great black figure. He was taller and wider than any pony I had ever seen or have seen since. His eyes glowed an eerie orange color, and they stared directly at me. Not knowing what to do, I backed up, out of fear; when I hit the great black pot behind me it tipped and spilled onto the floor and the figure rushed forward, trying to save the concoction as it poured onto the ground. Seeing my opportunity before me, I rushed out of the home.

As I passed him and ran outside I heard his yell at me to stop. I had no intention of obeying but my own body betrayed me as my hooves began to slow and eventually stop all together. Despite my mind screaming for my legs to move, they remained stationary. I knew this had to be part of the warlock's magic.

I heard him walking from behind me, his hooves were heavy upon the ground. I felt certain I could feel the earth beneath me shake with every step he took. When finally he reached me, he walked in front of me and just stared. His eyes were mere slits, but I could sense a rage seething just below the surface.

I cowered as low as I could. Wanting to be anywhere in the world except where I was at that moment. I prayed that I would wake up in my bed and that this would only be a nightmare that I could forget. But nothing like that happened. His presence was real and I was in great danger.

I'll never forget the words he spoke to me. Simple rhymes that, at the time, I thought harmless. He said, "From this day forth, to pay for your crime, your gift, and curse, will be of rhyme. For every word not set in measure or meter, your life in the balance, your health it will teeter. The words you speak will never be terse, or else you will die, from the curse of the verse."

-----

Zecora shuddered and paused in her story. Remembering that fateful day was clearly taking a toll on her but Shadow waited patiently, unspeaking. He wished to comfort her but also knew she was a very independent mare that, while appreciative of the compassion, would not like having him, or anyone, that close.

When finally she appeared to recover and poured them both another cup of tea, Shadow quietly asked, "So what happened next?"

"I awoke in my bed at my home," she said.

"Wait, so it had all been a dream?"

Zecora shook her head. "Not by a long shot, my detective friend. I had been found unconscious and was now on the mend," she smiled in spite of herself, the rhymes came so naturally she had trouble not speaking with them.

A Wizard's Treachery

"So when you woke up in your bed at home, what happened?"

"I awoke early the next morning. My mother was at my side, stroking my mane. When she saw my eyes open she shed her first tears since I had been brought home."

-----

She said that I had been found at the edge of that horrid forest and that I was lucky to be alive. A traveling merchant had seen me lying on the road and had transported me to the nearest town, which was my village. When she asked me what had happened, I told her I could not remember. After I spoke, I coughed mightily.

She said I had likely wandered into the forest and run through one of the poisonous plants the forest hosted. She made me stay in bed while she went to make some tea. When I thanked her I coughed again, this time harder than the first, and it lasted longer.

She left me in my room and I thought hard to try and remember what had happened. I couldn't remember anything after walking into the forest. It was all just a blank spot for me. I decided my mother was right, that I must have come into contact with one of the poisonous flowers within the forest and only wandered far enough back out to be seen by the merchant. When my mother returned with the tea I thanked her once again and again I coughed and wheezed.

She told me to lie down and get some rest. The tea had been a mixture used to cure many poisons, so hopefully it would help my body fight the poison and I would be well when the morning came. This time I just nodded in response. It seemed every time I tried to talk that I would be met with coughing so I figured it best to forgo it for the time being.

And so I slept. I slept for what felt like days. My head was filled with vivid dreams. Many bright and vibrant colors, and creatures and ponies I could not identify. I dreamt of a mighty ship on the ocean, of an elderly zebra standing by a large block pot.

I saw ponies that were not zebras. I had never seen someone who was not like me before and I remember being fascinated by their solid colored coat and mane.

I saw a forest, but I did not recognize it; it was similar to the one I had been in the day before but it was different, more green. And then I did see a forest I recognized, the brownish-green trees standing in stark contrast to the desert surrounding it. I saw myself on the road walking into the darkness within and I tried to call out to stop myself but I could only cough.

Then I was back at the warlock's cottage. Inside it. I could see the door open slowly and my own silhouette stood in the frame. I wanted to run and push myself away, to tell myself to run and not look back. I did not know why I felt such fear of this place but I knew only evil lived within.

As I watched myself slowly walk around the home I kept glancing at the door, silently urging myself to leave. And then it was too late. The enormous wizard blocked the light filtering inside from the door and I watched his great black pot spill onto the floor. Heard his scream once more and both myself and the me in the dream bolted for the door and outside.

All at once my dream self stopped, she looked panicked, looking at her hooves as if you will them onward, tears forming in her eyes. The wizard approached slowly and I backed away. Even in my dream I was frightened of him. He rounded my dream self and spoke his curse.

"From this day forth, to pay for your crime..."

-----

"You don't have to say it again, Z." Shadow spoke softly, he did not want her to relive the pain a second time.

"Yes, I do!" Zecora's voice was filled with a mix of anger and conviction, which caught Shadow by surprise. "If I am ever to be truly free of this curse I can never allow myself to forget what led me to it's wrath. I cannot forget the words that forced me to live a very different life."

"I'm sorry..." Shadow knew of nothing else to say.

Zecora repeated the chant again before returning to her story.

-----

As the wizard finished his curse, I watched as my hooves came free and I stumbled to the ground. As quick as I could, I was back up and running for my village. I followed, and could see the tears streaming down my face as I ran. I felt the fear grip me once more and I could hear myself speaking as I ran.

I was repeating, "This can't be real. This isn't happening."

With each utterance, I would cough just a little bit, and then a little bit more, and then with force. When I finally made it to the edge of the forest I was coughing so badly that I collapsed on the ground. But I could see I was not unconscious. I laid on the ground for several minutes, struggling to breathe. My eye were wide with fear, tears continued to flow, and I felt as if I was watching myself die.

-----

Zecora paused again and closed her eyes.

Shadow could see her shaking from the remnant fear of the memory and this time he did embrace her. He held her, feeling her shake into him and she truly needed the comfort. This was the first time in a long time she had relived that fateful day in her own words.

When they parted Zecora thanked him with a subtle nod and let out a deep sigh.

"So what happened next?"

"I awoke in my bed at home."

Shadow chuckled softly, "Will this be a recurring theme?"

Studies of Alchemy

When I awoke this time, I could hear the warlock's words clearly in my mind. I began to cough as I sat up mumbling the rhyme to myself.

When my mother heard my coughing she came to check on me and I told her about my dream through my coughs. I told her of the wizard and what he had said. Her eyes had widened at the mention of the warlock and she told me to repeat exactly what he had said.

When I finally stopped coughing again, I took a deep breath and spoke the rhyme to my mother. As I finished, I felt my health begin to return. I could breathe easier than moments before and my lungs no longer burned. But when I told my mother how much better the rhyme had made me feel the coughing returned.

It was then she told me to remain quiet while she went to fetch the local shaman. He didn't have the most powerful of magic but his knowledge of all magic was unmatched.

And so I sat on my bed, trying to think of why the rhyme had made me feel better. I thought about the words of the curse for the first time and found myself wondering if the rhymes were what had helped.

I spoke the curse aloud once more and felt myself beginning to breathe easier. I said it again and felt like my normal self. Thinking I had it worked out, I spoke normally and began coughing once more. Then I spoke a rhyme that was not the curse and felt my lungs again fill with air.

So that was the trick. Rhyme with every sentence and feel like a million bits, or talk normally and, perhaps, die in a coughing fit. I felt like this curse would not be so hard to beat. Surely the shaman would know of a way to reverse it and I would be back to normal in no time.

I sat on my bed thinking of rhymes to words until my mother returned with the shaman.

The first words the shaman spoke to me were, “Do not speak unless you have a sentence to rhyme it with.” I nodded, having just figured that out.

“The curse you are under is a rhyming curse. Each sentence you speak that does not carry a rhyme will begin to constrict your lungs. Which is why, when you spoke to your mother without rhyme, you began to cough. That was the spell constricting upon your lungs and forcing the air from them, little by little. Nod if you understand.”

Rather than nod I spoke, “I understand your words just fine, but is there a cure in line?” It was not a perfectly timed rhyme but the curse did not specify that all of the rhymes had to sound good, simply that they were spoken.

I will never forget the silence that followed my question. I looked to that shaman with such hope. That he would know of some cure, no matter how ill tasting the potion, he would have the cure. I remember feeling my hope slip away as he remained silent, looking evenly at me. I remember my mother’s face becoming more and more distraught.

“I’m afraid I have never found a cure for this particular curse. The warlock in those woods is one that few ever dare to venture to find. His powers are greater than any we’ve ever encountered and his heart is as black as coal. He does not care for anyone. The curse he placed on you was actually an act of mercy. Most never see the village again after encountering him.”

My heart was crushed. If the wisest of ponies in my village had no cure, what hope was there? Would I simply be forced to rhyme all my life or would I be forced to remain silent in the absence of suitable rhymes? The mix of emotions made my head swirl.

I was filled with anger, a rage, aimed at the warlock for his twisted sense of mercy. I felt as if I wanted to crawl in a hole and die, that my life would be worthless now. I was angry at myself. It was my own curiosity and adventuring that had gotten me into this. I wanted to lash out, to break something. But I simply sat there on my bed, staring at the ground, listening to my mother cry.

I felt hopelessness. No other feeling can compare to how utterly awful that feeling it. And so I asked them to please leave my room, with a cough.

For two days, I neither slept nor ate nor drank. I wanted to die. I simply lay in my bed, curled into as small of a ball as I could manage, wishing myself away. Wishing myself to be dead. Wishing to be cured of this curse. But my wishes did not come true. But on the morning of the third day, I was struck with an epiphany.

All curses, all of them, were given a way to be repealed. This was done so that an alchemist’s actions could fight a magician’s words. And this is true of all curses. Any curse you may be able to cast with that magical horn of yours, can be washed away by one of my home remedies.

Many ponies know of great wizards like Star Swirl the Bearded, but few know there are alchemists of equal power to combat any spell they may cast. Celestia herself even asks me to work on alchemical remedies to new spells she learns.

And, as a child, I knew only that every spell I knew of had a counter to it in the form of an ill tasting potion. The morning of that third day, that thought consumed me and I could not let go of it. Every spell had a potion to counteract it, except the curse placed upon me? My mind could not accept that.

So, I sought to learn. I went to our local library. I asked the librarian, with another cough, for a book on potions and remedies for spells. When she produced it, I sat in the library until almost their closing time, just reading.

From the single book, I learned a great deal. I learned that not everyone can be an alchemist. It’s takes a special mind and a measure of patience. I learned that even seasoned alchemists can mess up any potion with just a tiny slip. I learned what I told you, that all spells have an alchemical counter. All of them.

Once more, I began to hope. Hope that someone might know of a cure to this terrible curse. Hope that I might be able to find them and live a normal life. And as powerful of an emotion as hopelessness is, being filled with hope, even the smallest glimmer, is the best feeling in the world.

“So that started you on a study in alchemy? But I thought you said the shaman in your town didn’t know of anyone that could fix this curse.” Shadow said.

Zecora smiled. “Indeed he didn’t. But that shaman had never ventured far from our village. He was wise from books, not from experience. He had never read of a cure for the curse. By the laws of magic, a cure must exist for any spell cast. This one, however, is a well-guarded cure for a well-guarded curse.”

“So where did you go to find it?”

“A great many places, my friend. The first of which was to a forest outside of Zebria.”

“How far was that from your village?”

“Nearly 100 kilometers.”

“That’s not so bad.”

Zecora shook her head. “Perhaps not for an adult, but I did not want to wait until I was an adult.”

Shadow’s jaw dropped slightly. “So you went as a filly? When did you leave?”

“Within a week.”

A Gentle Breeze

"So how did you make it all that distance as a child?"

"I had help. My community rallied around me with support when news of my condition spread. Some felt fearful that I would try to transfer the curse to them but most knew better and helped out in little ways. Like asking yes or no questions so I was able to nod or shake my head instead of speaking."

-----

With their help, within a week's time I found transport with a traveling trader headed in the direction I needed to go.

My mother had made it clearly known that she didn't wish me to go. Several times I'd had to convince her that my quest, while dangerous, could not stop until I had found a cure and made it more widely known. The reward was well worth the risk.

On the day I left, my mother embraced me tighter than ever before. She wept tears of sadness and pride. She did not want to see me off on my own in the world but she took pride that I had the courage to embark on my journey.

I still remember waving to the crowd that had gathered to see me off. Some of the vendors gave me food to take with me and one of the fillies in my class had made me a good luck bracelet to keep me safe.

It was more of my village than I had ever seen gathered in one place before. All for me. All to wish me well. I knew as the cart I was one began to roll away from them that I would not stop until I had completed my quest to be rid of this curse.

For three days I rode that cart. Along a dusty trail in the middle of nowhere. Looking around for the forest that would be my landmark. In a sea of sand, I was on lookout for my new land. And for three days I saw nothing but sand. I began to ask the driver if he was sure we had gone the direction of the forest and he assured me that by noon of the fourth day I would be rid of his rickety cart and be on my way into the forest I so desperately sought. By the morning of the fourth day, I could see he was right.

The forest we approached bears many of the tallest trees in the world which, even from great distances, are easily visible. The closer we ventured the wider my eyes got. Nearly every tree was bigger than any of the homes in my village. They were much wider, and stretched high into the sky, the great leaves combining in a canopy that blocked nearly all sunlight.

As the driver of the cart stopped us just short of the edge of the forest, he gave me a wary look that I returned. Neither of us wanted to see me walk into this place alone. Both fearing I would never return. As we sat in silence, I felt something in myself harden. If I was to ever complete my journey I had to be unafraid. Cowardice would not serve me well. Only courage would see me through to the end.

"Are you sure this is where you want to be?" the stallion had asked me.

I remember nodding and furrowing my brow with as much determination as I could muster. "I would rather take the risk, and perhaps die, than to sit at home and never try."

With that, I grabbed my small pack, hopped down off the cart and began my walk into the forest without looking back.

The stallion and his cart lingered for a moment. He did not want to abandon me, should I change my mind. But as I walked farther on, I heard him shout, "Good luck!" and then turn to leave.

As I walked in silence I watched all around me, wary of what may be within the forest. What was once curiosity had quickly turned to fear of the unknown. I did not have a specific direction to be heading in this forest. I knew only that somewhere within was a shaman that, I hoped, could help me.

-----

"How did you find her in such a big forest?" Shadow asked.

"I didn't."

"You mean you went all that way and it turns out she wasn't even there!?"

Zecora chuckled softly. "No, my friend. I did not find her because it was she who found me.

“I had been walking for what felt like hours when I happened across a manticore. Normally, manticores can be skirted without issue. While territorial, they will only attack when they feel threatened."

"Then why would it bother you? A manticore can't be that threatened by a filly."

"Because this particular filly stumbled into the back of the manticore." Zecora laughed as if the memory of near death tickled her. "He jumped twice as high as I did and whirled around, roaring as loud as he could, but when he saw me he stopped and looked almost apologetic at having scared me."

Shadow's raised eyebrow and incredulous look asked the question for him.

"The manticore I bumped into was tame. Or at least as tame as a manticore can come. Moments after his roar, a zebra burst through the brush next to him and looked around frantically for signs of danger. Seeing only me, she pushed the manticore gently."

-----

"Don't be so jumpy, Manny. Almost gave me a heart attack," she said, before turning to face me. "Now who exactly are you and what're you doing startling the dickens out of manticores in a forest?"

"I could use your help, that I could. I'm looking for a shaman who lives in these woods."

The zebra flashed me a smile before standing on her hind legs and leaning against the manticore proudly. "Well, then you've stumbled into the right manticore. This here's Manny, and I'm the shammy you're looking for. What can I help you with?"

"I've been.."

-----

"Wait, stop. Did she really talk like that?"

Zecora nodded.

"She sounds like Applejack."

Zecora's face went blank, as if her mind had never made that connection. "Yes, I could see this zebra and Miss Applejack being related. Zebria was the cradle of civilization, after all."

Shadow laughed. "I guess no matter how far south you live you still have southerners. Sorry to interrupt, what happened next?"

"I explained my situation in a mix of poorly timed rhymes and when I finally got my point across, she was all too happy to help. She escorted me to her home and gave me a small room as my own. She assured me my time with her would not be short but she would do her best to teach me all that she could and help me find a cure."

"What was her name?"

"Vikalli. Her friends called her Viki. Though she once lamented her only real friend was Manny the manticore, who could not speak."

Cutie Mark Grief

"How long did you end up staying with her?" Shadow asked taking a sip of his tea.

"Six years," Zecora answered calmly.

Shadow nearly spit out the tea. "Six years!? It took her six years to help you find a cure!?"

Zecora stifled a laugh. "No. It took her five years to teach me everything she knew and the sixth we spent searching our minds for a cure and testing all the potions we could come up with."

"I suppose none of them worked," Shadow said, wiping his mouth.

"You suppose correctly."

In the time I was with Viki she taught me everything she knew and I was never more grateful of a single zebra than when I knew her. Her teachings not only started me on the path of alchemy I now walk, but they also allowed me to earn my cutie mark. That is a day I will never forget and will always be indebted to her for pushing me to be my best.

I had been with her for nearly a year before she allowed me to try my hoof at making a potion. You see, potion making can be a very dangerous profession. The wrong ingredients at the right time can cause a number of catastrophic consequences. The most serious of which being death.

When finally it came time to try my hoof I found that I wasn’t nearly as nervous as Viki. She was worried that something would go wrong, as even she still made mistakes from time to time. I remember laughing when she offered to hold my hoof as we worked on the concoction.

“Just be careful is all.” Viki moved to the opposite side of the swirling green mixture, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring slowly.

When she indicated the correct time I added each of the ingredients without incident and when I added the final ingredient and the potion was finally ready, I took a small vial and filled it.

“Do you think this will do the trick and remove that which makes me sick?” I remember hoping with all my might that it would.

Viki had hesitated before answering, biting her lip nervously, “I’ll be honest, little Z. It’s a long shot. That potion is pretty simple to remove a curse like the one you’re under. It’s not unheard of, but don’t get your hopes up too high.”

I knew in that instant that the potion would not work but I kept some small hope that it would. While we waited for it to cool, I just stared into the now motionless liquid in our large pot. Something about adding the ingredients had seemed so easy. Even without Viki’s prompting I felt that I would’ve been able to make the potion on my first try.

When it came time to test the potion, this time I did accept Viki’s offer to hold my hoof. We had grown close in that first year and she seemed more like an older sister than a teacher to me. She too hoped that the potion would work, despite its slim chances of doing so.

“And so, hoof in hoof, I drink the first of hundreds of potions. I almost gagged from the foul taste.” Zecora smiled at the memory.

“And it didn’t work,” Shadow said quietly.

“Indeed it didn’t. I didn’t know it hadn’t worked at first. I had to test it with a sentence that didn’t rhyme.”

“Thank you for helping me, Viki.”

And I coughed.

I nearly cried when it started. I just wanted my hardship to be over. Viki held me close and comforted me until I had my emotions under control.

“Thank you for helping me to begin this path of alchemy. I guess we’ll have to try again in another day… or three.”

Viki laughed at my rhyme. “We’ll try again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until we’ve tried every potion we can think of, we’ll keep trying. But there is good news from this failure.”

I let my face ask the question. Viki answered me with only a point to my flank, where my cutie mark had appeared.

“Shadow, do you remember the day you received your cutie mark?” Zecora asked.

“Sure do. One of the worst days I’ve ever had, actually.” Shadow answered bluntly.

“Then you will understand why I felt my heart break when I realized that my special talent would be making potions. From that moment, I knew that my life would be filled with potions and that the cure I so desperately sought would be out of my reach for years to come.

“My cutie mark is a constant reminder of the curse that plagued me for many years. I am probably one of the few ponies who detest their cutie mark, Shadow. I am pained every time I look at it.

“And, at the same time, I am happy of the path my life has taken as a result of that curse. I would’ve never seen as much of the world as I have if I hadn’t been cursed. I would not have met all the wonderful alchemists and wizards I know. I would not have moved to Ponyville to meet stallions like yourself. I would have been in Zebria in that village for my whole life. And for that, I am forever thankful to a terrible curse.”

Shadow sat quiet. Thinking on what Zecora had just told him. “What would you have wanted to do if you hadn’t been forced into alchemy?”

Zecora was speechless at his question. “I.. do not know.”

Shadow looked around the hut and smiled. “I think you would’ve been an artist, Z. You make some very neat looking things.”

Zecora looked around her home as if she had never given her ornaments a second thought. “I think I would have liked that cutie mark.”

“So what happened after you got your cutie mark?” Shadow asked, trying not to get too side tracked.

"After I earned my cutie mark we spent the remainder of my years with Viki testing more potions. As I said before, I cannot tell you how many horrible tasting potions I have downed in my time."

"So did you leave when you had exhausted all your ideas?"

Zecora shook her head. "No. I likely would've stayed with Viki until we found a cure."

"So why did you leave?"

"I was left with no choice."

Manticore Tears

"The attack came in the middle of the night. I don't know if we had been an intended target or if the marauders simply decided we were one when they happened upon us. What I do know, is that in one night I felt my whole world collapse," Zecora paused. "Have you ever seen a camel, Shadow?"

"Once. He wasn't the kindest fellow I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"That is because most camels are nomadic warriors. They live to seek glory in battle. Dying in combat is considered a great honor, and many will fight to the death just for sideways glances or a misspoken word. They are a terrifying people."

As I said, I do not know why these camels decided Viki's hut warranted a full on attack but that night, for whatever reason, it did. They came in a densely packed group, yelling and screaming, setting the forest around the hut on fire so as to force us outside to escape the flames that would eventually surround us completely.

Viki, however, had prepared for an attack like this, long ago. She forced me to duck into a secret room she had hidden under a rug, while she donned a belt full of vials, each filled with a different colored liquid.

Before closing the door, she gave me a tight hug and told me to stay hidden until morning. I could barely answer before she shut the trap door and left me in darkness, save one candle that I had lit. I have wished on many occasions that I had gone with her, to live or to die by her side.

I don't know what happened to Viki that night but when I opened the trap door in the morning I was surrounded by the remnants of the hut. Everything was black and smoking and small fires still burned in a few places. As I looked to the forest, I noticed several things out of place. The first of which was a group of bushes that were completely encased in ice. The second, a group of trees that had been knocked over, almost as if by some tremendous wind. Another tree with holes peppered in the trunk and leaves.

As I wandered the effects on the trees and other plant life become more and more varied and more and more dangerous looking. There were, however, no bodies. No camels remained and I could not see Viki anywhere. It was as if she had vanished and left only this bizarre trail for me to follow.

Returning to the now smoldering hut, I stepped back into the room I had spent the evening in, with the sun in the sky, I could use it's light to see the room more clearly than when I had only a candle. What I found left me wondering if Viki had been planning to send me on to another alchemist all along.

One wall of the room had a large map on display, it was a map of Zebria and some of the surrounding area. Far north of Zebria, past the nations of Camelu and Cervidas, East of Equestria's Seaddle and Northwest of Fawntaine of Cervidas in the middle of the forest along the Tempest Coast, was a small green circle with an X in it. With the word, Rekazi, written out beside the X.

I studied the map for a long while before removing it from the wall and folding it up. As I went to place it in the saddlebag I found a not from Viki

Dear Big Z,

If you're reading this, then something happened to me before I was able to finish teaching you. But don't you worry. Ol' Viki always had a plan for you. Follow this map and head for the Tempest Coast. In the forest along the coast you'll find a pony with a light blue coat and a pointy purple mane. His name is Rekazi. He's going to continue your training. Be kind to him when you arrive. He's not fond of us zebras, and he can be mighty grouchy at times, but he'll be able to teach you far more than I ever could. Stay safe crossing Camelu and Cervidas. Steer clear of everyone in Camelu, but let yourself relax in Cervidas. The Cervidaens are just about the nicest and most timid folks you'll ever meet. Don't worry about me. I've got enough wits about me to be able to handle anything that might come my way.

-Your teacher and friend,

Viki

P.S.: Don't feel compelled to take Manny with you when you go. He's grown pretty fond of you and I imagine he'll want to come with you. Your call.

I read the note three full times before setting it down so my tears couldn't stain it anymore. The only friend I'd known in six years was gone and now I would have to cross two countries to find a new teacher. To say I was distraught is a drastic understatement.

I packed up everything else Viki had left for me: another note containing detailed directions to find Rekazi; a few potions, all labeled with what they were, mostly emergency things to escape from danger; and a few other essentials. I walked slowly back up the stairs and into the remnant of the hut and looked around.

Much to my surprise, Manny was waiting for me when I reappeared. He sat at the edge of the clearing of trees and stared at me with sad eyes. Manticores may not be able to talk but they are very intelligent, emotive, and perceptive creatures. He knew what had happened to Viki, perhaps he had even been with her in her final moments. I'll never know. But he knew that I would need him now and he was here to help me.

As I approached him, he lowered his face to mine and nuzzled me gently, one of his large tears wetting my mane a bit. It was a sad day for the both of us.

"A debt to Viki, I will always be owing. What do you say, Manny? Think it's time to get going?" I fought back my tears while speaking.

Manny nodded sorrowfully and lowered himself down, offering to carry me. I climbed onto his back and before I could even think of what to say to him, he took off to the north. He already knew where I needed to go and he was going to get me there as quickly as he could.

The Kindness of Strangers

Manny ran for three whole days, resting only at night. Until then, I'd had no idea manticores were so well built to travel.

On the third day, the deserts of Camelu gave way to the hills and valleys of Cervidas; the change in scenery was drastic and immediate. I have, to this day, never seen anything else like it. The rolling deserts of Camelu stop almost completely at once and give to the hard dirt and grass of Cervidas.

When we crossed the border, we stopped to rest at a stream flowing nearby. Manny was more than willing to take a break. He was a powerhouse, for sure, but even the strongest tire if you work them too long or too hard.

Sitting on the bank of the stream, Manny drank while I let my feet soak in the water to cool off. It was then that we noticed a terrified Cervidaen staring at us from across the water. Her eyes glanced from Manny to me, as if she wanted to warn me of his close proximity.

I smiled at her and patted Manny gently on the side. "My friend may look quite big and scary, but rest assured the truth is to the contrary," I said to her.

Many times during my life of rhymes I've been given strange looks and this one was no different. She cocked her head at me, momentarily forgetting Manny. She was trying to figure out the rhyme. A look of surprise crossed her face, she took my meaning of him being harmless and nodded lightly, not fully accepting me at my word.

"Where did you two come from?" She asked from across the water. I had to strain to even hear her.

"Zebria is where I make my home. Manny joined me, so I was not alone."

Again her eyes narrowed, processing the rhyme, beginning to wonder if it was on purpose. "Who is Manny?"

I chuckled softly and pointed to the manticore on my right, who was smiling and doing his best to look friendly.

The Cervidaen shook her head at us. We did make something of an unbelievable duo. "I would like to invite you to my village but I'm afraid your friend would cause something of a ruckus. Without being rude, could I ask him to remain hidden from sight while you are near?"

Manny nodded at the Cervidaen. He was an expert at staying out of sight.

Still, she gave us both a wary look and motioned me to follower her. With a quick jump over the stream, I joined my new friend on a short walk to her village.

As we walked, I explained my plight with the least confusing rhymes I could think of. She seemed to understand and assured me that she would try to ask yes or no questions. When we reached town, however, I was aware that I would be asked many difficult questions in the hours to come.

You see, when ponies or Cervidaens hear hoofbeats, they assume they are made by their countrymen. Seeing a zebra appear from your peripheral, can cause quite a few questions to pop up. None of which, are yes or no. The odd looks however weren't followed by immediate questions.

The Cervidaens are a timid people. They are fleet of foot, soft spoken, and do their best to avoid trouble at all costs. The bravest of the Cervidaens become their politicians and town leaders.

A pony like Rainbow Dash or Applejack would be revered by them. They could only wish for the courage or ferocity of our friends. Even Fluttershy would easily be granted a town to govern.

I later learned that the deer escorting me into town was their mayor and her name was Lin.

"So how long did you stay in that town?" Shadow asked.

"Only for a few days. I wanted to let Manny rest but we both knew my destiny lay elsewhere."

"That reminds me, how much ground did Manny cover in the three days in Camelu? I know manticore are fast, but three days to cross a country?"

Zecora moved across her hut and returned with an old map. "This is the map Viki gave to me when I left her hut," she pointed to a medium sized country filled with yellow and orange patches. "This is Zebria, and this," she pointed to a long slender country just north of Zebria that appeared to be completely desert, "This is Camelu. As you can see, it is not a very tall country. I do not know the exact distance but Manny covered what would take a well equipped group nearly two weeks to cross."

Shadow craned his head, studying the map from all sides. For as slim and slight as Camelu looked, the camels that lived there certainly made up the difference. Always large and imposing. He nodded in appreciation. "That's quite the impressive jog. And you didn't run into any camels at all?"

Zecora's eyes dropped for a moment. "Not in Camelu, no."

"What do you mean?"

Zecora sighed. "The attack came on our second night of slumber. Camels, for all their loud, intimidating nature, are somehow able to be nearly as light hoofed as the deer they stalked that night. We never heard a thing until their entire tribe was on top of us.

"As the shouts of camels rose and the screams of frightened deer filled the night, I rose from my bed and donned my meager belongings. The mayor, whom I had been staying with, quickly told me of the fastest escape route from town. Where most of her town would be headed within minutes.

"You see, Cervidaens are one with nature. The make their homes in light tents and travel often. The town we happened across would've only been there another week at best. They do not stay in any one place longer than necessary. Instead they choose to explore the forests they inhabit and see as much as they can."

"So, they had just stopped to gather supplies or something and you fell into their laps? That's pretty lucky for you, Z."

Zecora bowed her head solemnly, "Yes, lucky for me but rather unlucky for the deer I met."

Shadow's smile faded. "Were there any casualties?"

Zecora shook her head, looking up to meet Shadow's eyes. "Thankfully, no. Normally, when camels decide to attack the deer will quickly gather what they can and dash off into the forest. This night, however, the deer barely had time to grab their things before the camels were turned away."

Shadow scratched his head, "Turned away? How would they..? Ooh. Manny?"

Zecora grinned wide and nodded, "Manny."

As things outside our small tent began to seem catastrophic for the deer and I, a great roar caused us all to stop in our tracks. Even the camels. They turned, this way and that, trying to figure out where the sound came from. Finally, Manny leapt forth from the forest, landing directly in front of the tent I was in.

I could see several of the camels immediately lose their will to fight. They had all heard of manticores, fewer had ever seen one, and fewer still knew if they could even be killed. One brave soul among them seemed to pick this opportunity to prove his worth to the group. Manny never even let him get close. One more powerful roar in the camel's direction and he immediately turned tail. As did his compatriots.

Manny chased them from the village and the deer and I slowly emerged from our tents. Everyone was murmuring. Of course, they too knew of manticores. But they had never seen one defend one their villages before.

I turned to the mayor amidst the murmurs of the crowds and said my goodbyes. I wanted to be out of the town before Manny came back. I thought his presence would cause a bit more of a stir that his saving of the village. She shook my hoof and wished me luck. Telling me that the place I sought lie to my Northwest.

I exited town silently and met Manny not far into the forest. He looked concerned as I approached. I was quick to reassure him that his actions were exactly the reason I was glad to have him with me. I hopped onto his back and we rode off into the forest once more.