Prologue: Legacy of the Past
Disease
Disease has had a lot to answer for in the history of man, slowly and silently shaping and culling populations for eons. In many stories and tales, mystical illnesses have killed whole species, raised the dead, and altered the planet irrevocably. Such is myth, or fantasy. Yet many such stories hide a truth hidden just as well as the viruses they concern.
In mid-July 2024, returning from the fast-growing state of the Democratic Republic of Congo, a plane carried a person infected from a disease, named Zaire, after its point of origin in the deep jungles surrounding the Congo river. Zaire is a particularly virulent illness. It is likely to kill around 83% of those infected, and appears as simple flu or malaria initially. Yet any contact with an infected person, even simply being nearby them, is likely to result in transmission, and after a few days, the sufferer will have died of large scale internal hemorrhaging, multiple organ failure, and widespread tissue necrosis. This plane landed in France. Within 96 hours, 75% of France was on the point of death. At the end of the week, all contact will France, Germany, Spain and Italy was lost.
Much of the rest of the rest of the world suffered the same fate. In the final hours of humanity's reign as ruler of the earth, the only countries reported to be virus-free were Madagascar and most of the small Pacific island nations. By the end of the decade, the estimated population of the world had dropped below 2 million. The US was hit worst, after France, and the populations of both had been entirely decimated. Not a single person was thought to be alive in either of the countries. Africa, South America and Asia, with their developing infrastructures and poor living standards, were wiped completely. Northern Europe fared slightly better. Russia was rumored to have hidden away it's ruling elite and super rich, and the rural nature of Scotland, Norway, Finland and Siberia and eastern Russia could have saved some areas, isolated from danger, though any small communities left would have declined quickly. The same could have been true for Canada. Humanity was on the brink of extinction. But not quite gone.
The world moved on, and life went on. Many species, mostly mammals, were also decimated, and fell into extinction. In this global interim period, new species began to appear from sub-groups of those gone before, especially places that caused the rapid mutation and change of those animals living there...
After a scant 400-500 years, an equine sub-species began to evolve at a prodigious rate, with greater intelligence than their forebears. Over the decades, they slowly began to harness the powerful natural energy localized to their pastoral heartland. This primordial force, shaping and altering, lifted this equine race, these ponies, to dominance, allowing them to start controlling and guiding the land they lived. This land, of temperate climate and warm weather, had something other places didn't. Magic.
As Equestria, as it became known, grew, its ponies grew civilized and industrious, their way of life powered by this magic, powered by especially potent places, though why this was remained unknown to the ponies. And thus was modern Equestria born. Yet the secret of their magic was still hidden, as all who tracked its origin burned themselves out with the potency involved.
How ironic that the location for the end of humanity would rebirth the next superpower race. As France had spiraled so rapidly into decline, it's love for nuclear reactors proved its downfall, and thus, the radiation smothered death-zone was the magical nexus for the world. Murmansk and the surrounding tundra became the Crystal Empire; Stalliongrad sprung up over ancient Pripyat, and across the ocean, Manehatten grew from what was 3 mile island.
Yet the legacy of that bygone world has never affected Equestria. The cities lie buried, the people dead, and nature's scars have healed. However, all it takes is an inquisitive explorer and delver to stir up the past like mud and filth from the bottom of a crystal clear stream.
Author's Note
More chapters to follow soon!
Southern Zebrica, 21.4.1003 A.B, 9:37 AM
A distinctive pony in a pith helm and shirt strode over the land, leading her group of porters, lackeys and scientists through the long grasses of Southern Zebrica, taking in the sights and sounds of the fresh morning of the savannah. Such expeditions were dangerous the unprepared and the inexperienced, but to a veteran explorer, adventurer and archaeologist such as Daring Do. this kind of trip was her day-job. Their target lay to the west, on the edge of the rainforests that marked the edge of the known world. No pony or zebra had ventured past the gloomy darkness of the jungles and reached a far side, either turning back, ragged and exhausted, or never returning at all. Thankfully, entering the Southern jungles was not on her itinerary. They were headed for Akabukke, a small village scant miles from the jungles, to investigate black creatures, spotted on the horizon, heading out from the forest regularly, only to vanish away at the sight of the ponies.
<:>
Daring sighed, gazing back at the stretched out line of her party, struggling on along the dirt paths after their 3 day journey, On the opposite horizon lay Akabukke, glimmering in the heat of the Zebrican day. As the first walkers arrived at the brow of the low hill she was on, one called out sharply,
“I say Miss Do, how far did you say this village was? All this heat is unbearable.”
“Not far professor, only 3 miles.”
Professor Woodknot, despite his Canterlot bluster and overbearing manner, was a seasoned research zoologist, with experience both in the field and the lecture theatre, and technically the head of the expedition. His light green coat blended into the landscape, making him less conspicuous than his group of research students and fellow academics. Their sweat bodies and dirty coats belied their lack of experience with anything other than the city, as they shambled along behind the line of Zebra porters hired to carry supplies and equipment.
The hardy Zebricans came next, barely hindered by their heavy loads. As they past her, she marveled at their strength and fortitude. All of them stood taller than her, stronger and leaner than any stallions back in serene Equestria. Their black and white stripes, though so distinctive up close, worked well as camouflage at a distance, breaking up their outline, turning them into fuzzy grey shapes in the long grass. As they walked by, their leader approached her, a wiry stallion by the name of Zezune with small tribal bells and totems interwoven into his shaggy mane.
“So Daring, you will up uphold the promised price of 1500 bits? I heard that a mare of renown such as you will always honour her agreements.”
“I don't remember the price being that high, this is a simple march across the grasslands, not some migration through the desert. No other guides I've seen would command such a high price.”
“Ah, you do not see, Miss Do. The jungles are an accursed place for Zebra. We are not made for it's tangled paths and crawling creatures, and there is no easy way for one to take back from a frontier town such as this. All of my good stallions fear the jungle, and the people of Akabukke are a hardy race, perhaps foolhardy.”
“Whatever you believe, I didn't ask you to take us into the jungle, and I'm certainly not paying for it. The most I'll give you is 800.”
“For all of the hungry porters? You must be joking, Daring. They need hay and drink after a long trek, and enough to tide them over till more work. I must insist on over 1000....”
The sound of their haggling trailed off through the humid air of the savannah, baking under the blazing midday sun. The convoy wound ever on and on, slowly but surely towards Akabukke. Encompassing half the horizon, the jungle cast an imposing sight on the land, the towering trees and bright greenery contrasting with the flat, drab grasslands. Inside, the rainforest's ecosystems had remained unchanged for millennia, despite the collapse of humanity beyond it's borders, and many things of the past were still very much alive in the ancient jungles of west Africa.
<:>
Soft sunshine slowly brought Daring round from the realm of dreams, cascading in through the thin curtains on her small room. Through the windows, the small dusty streets of Akabukke were bustling with zebra, many already buying food for breakfast, or setting up their stalls of wares, with all manner of strange and inconceivable items, ranging from gourds to hair pieces.
As Daring groggily recovered from the previous day's trek, she gulped down some water and headed outside into the heat of the day. Pushing her way through the tight alleys and streets, she marveled at hardiness and pride of the Akabukkeans. All of the zebra there, both stallions and mares, were tall and strong, and carried themselves confidently, often eschewing the complex tribal fashions of cosmopolitan zebra for simpler, more practical vests and pouches. Thankfully, the myth that Zebra spoke purely in rhyme was largely untrue, only practiced by their most wise Shamans and learned aristocrats. She stocked up on all sorts of supplies for the research base, from food to spare tents and ropes. They would be needing them in the rough and ready nature of fieldwork.
Akabukke was fueled by the research and exploration that went on around it, and none of the residents paid Daring any notice in her traditional pith helm as she wound her way into a small coffee-house, to meet up with the rest of the expedition members. The six-pony team that she would be looking after were lounging inside, busily discussing all sorts of things scientific, arguing over this theory or that speculative claim, thoroughly in their element. She wandered into the midst of them, stopping most of the idle chatter. The professor looked up to her.
“Ah, Miss Do, you've arrived. I trust that all the preparations are sorted, and the gear packed?”
“It is, Professor, everything from the sandwiches to the tents. We'll set of this afternoon, when the sun drops a little.”
“Good, now the reason why I got all of you together here is to give you a much more detailed brief about what exactly we'll be doing over the next two weeks. For your benefit, Miss Do, I'll summarise the situation first. For the last few months, there have been sightings of thin, long-limbed black creatures on the borders of the jungles here every few days. Most times, it's nothing but a glimpse, yet on rare occasions the animals venture out a short way, onto the savannah.
This is so special for a few reasons. The first being that nothing remotely similar has been seen anywhere in or around the known world. Second, the remote observations suggest the creatures are highly sociable animals, capable of some form of communication with each other. One zebra guide, who got slightly closer than the rest, even claims to have seen tools and basic garments. We can only speculate whether they are truly sentient like ponies, gryphons and dragons. With the help of Miss Do here, our plan is to get high-quality observations of their biology and interactions. If they seem to be approachable, maybe even contact. Any questions?”
One of the scientists raised a hoof, a grey hued stallion with a combed brown mane.
“How exactly are we planning on observing them? Are we using hides, telescopes or anything else? I assume not magical sensors, since this even more of a magical dead-zone than the rest of Zebrica.”
“That is correct, Hereditary Trait, magic won't be of any use here. I hopefully plan on using both methods you suggested.”
Everypony else stayed silent.
“Well, now you all know all there is to know about this little sortie, I suggest we prepare to go. Chop chop, there's lots that needs doing before we leave...”
<:>
Later that evening, Daring pitched camp with the rest, setting up her tent on the edge of the rest, facing the tall, imposing jungle miles to the South. All sorts of research gear and scientific kit was already set up, measuring the local climate out on the savannah. She wandered through the campsite, stepping over the mess of guide-ropes and bags that were obstructing her path, up to a small rocky outcrop that offered shelter to the camp from the constant wind of the plains. Making her way up the side, she reached the top, looking over the surrounding land, Woodknot stood there too, observing the slowly fading sunset, casting red and pink swirls into the dusky clouds.
“Nice night, Professor.”
“Isn't it just. Though Daring, I was wondering what you thought of our plans for this expedition.”
“They seem perfectly fine to me, I don't see anywhere things would really have any chance of going badly wrong, for sure.”
“Your confidence reassures me, but the fact is, is that whenever these jungles are involved, ponies start going missing. I didn't particularly want to scare the others, but the Royal Scientific Society asked me do organise this venture partly to see if there was any connection between the creatures and the disappearances.”
“I see what you mean, but even so, we'll be spending almost all of our time away from them, so I highly doubt anything they might do would affect us.”
“True, true. Perhaps I should sleep on it, think about it afresh tomorrow.”
He trotted down, leaving Daring stood atop the outcrop, in the ever-darkening Zebrican night.
