Yejide rolled onto her back, tasting the early morning air mixing with the dry plains grasses. White clouds moved through the blue sky, tan stalks of wheat obscuring her vision. No souls were around for at least a mile or her warning wards would have gone off. So she enjoyed her last days of freedom. For today only, she might as well be the last soul on Equus, and she reveled in it.
Has it truly been a year? She asked herself as the wind blew lines through the grass like tumbleweeds through a desert. Yejide stared at her hooves as she raised them toward the sun as if to grasp the yellow ball. But, what had she really learned on this journey? She still had no idea if she was ready for her duty; what would she do after returning to her village?
Her life in the village had not been anything unique, she had tried every job like a proper zebra, knew every function and member of her herd. The last step was to leave on her twentieth birthday and learn just as much about who she was as she knew about everyone else. This year had also been to teach the need for others, how hard it was to live a life alone, to forage, to lack companionship.
Yejide let out another sigh, this quest had not been trying, but instead she felt unshackled by her call to be a shaman’s apprentice. Few were skilled enough with the ancient arts to perform the needed duties in protecting and caring for a village, not just the physical bodies, but also their souls. Rolling over, the zebra got to her hooves and stretched like the hyenas she had spent the better part of a month with, chuffing as she moved. The problem was, there were other aspects to becoming a shaman that still made no sense. She knew the reasons why they rhymed, at least the stated one, but it made no sense as it was too impractical.
The zebra pulled a small knife from its sheath on her flank, covering a large white spot, and used the knife to cut off a piece of grass and stuck it in her mouth to chew; it calmed her stomach’s growling. She wasn’t allowed to eat for several days before returning to symbolize her death and rebirth as a full member of her village. It wasn’t the most fun, but it would be followed by a large feast.
She walked the last few miles through the grass covered plains, ears twisting to check for dangers. Yejide spotted the round, straw covered huts of home and realized she would miss the freedom of being by herself. Not just that though, the freedom to explore, to learn, to not be beholden to a group. At the same time she was happy to be home, to see forgotten friends, to not have to forage every day and to gather extra in case of problems. The ability to discuss new ideas with others.
There was a small circle around the village, a warning to prevent unwelcome visitors. The zebra slammed her hooves against the hard packed dirt, the solid thunk spreading throughout the village. “This is Yejide of clan Uuko. Returning from her journey; she is ready to rejoin the herd and seeks permission to reenter the herd.”
She waited for several minutes before making the call again. “This is Yejide of clan Uuko. Returning from her journey; she is ready to rejoin the herd and seeks permission to reenter the herd.”
There was still no response. She didn’t dare cross the line. If it was properly warded she would be in more than a little pain. And even if it wasn’t, she would risk her return for violating the rules of the Rite of Ascension. The zebra had no idea how her return would be treated, every adult was different and the only ones involved would be her chosen and the one she chose to follow. Her best friend Kullinda, and the shaman Mganga.
An old stallion with his stripes faded walked out of a hut and halfway to her. His chest and back were covered in animal bones to the point his mark was hidden. He stared at her, his eyes boring into hers before turning back around and returning to his hut. He was out for only a few seconds.
Yejide stepped forward, barely stopping before the line. That was Mganga and he just walked away without a word. She inspected her body, maybe there had been some sort of protocol she forgot. The curved knife was properly held on her left hip, the pack on her right hip held all the herbs and natural medicines she found in her journey. She moved the stalk of grass from one side of her mouth to the other before spitting it onto the ground. Could that have been it? She glowered at the stalk, and internally at herself. Did the food restriction extend to consuming anything?
“Long time Yii.” Yejide relished the firm, but soft voice, this was the zebra who might as well be her sister; in youth they had spent every waking moment together. But Kullinda had hit twenty first and had to leave on her journey.
She didn’t realize how much she missed that particular voice, the exploration through the plains as foals, the experimenting with new herbs, the sneaking into the snack shed for a scone. Yejide’s first reaction was to tell Kullinda about her journey, the new things she had seen. There was such a thing as hair of the diamond dog which showed remarkable properties when mixed with Wyrm’s Bane. Or the use of ponyfeathers to restore flight to a griffon.
“Kay, you came! Is everythi…” Her voice trailed off. When Kullinda had completed her journey the year before she had become a protector; she, who would take on the evil to protect the herd. The leather armor fit her as it snugly covered her entire body including the face, leaving the original owners teeth at the bottom of her muzzle. Her stoic eyes just stared at the returning zebra.
“By request of Shaman Mganga, you have been denied reentry into the Uuko herd. Your only belongings shall be what you have on you from your trip. Any items left in Uuko will be placed into storage until Mungu Tayari grants you reentry, you die, or are forever banished from these lands. You will be provided with no food, no shelter, no stay. Nopony will be allowed to see you off and if you attempt forceful entry…” Her old friend let the threat- no, promise- trail off. Her eyes seemed vacant, as if Yejide were nothing more than a bug, not even worth looking at.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. This was her home. Her family. It wasn’t the loss of the books she had memorized, but what they symbolized; most were gifts from the herd. Her family didn’t want her - didn’t need her. She had to think. There had to be something.
“What are the charges?” Yejide glared, she could not lose.
“No charges. The elders have spoken. You did not fulfil your duties. You are not ready to return. There is no job here you could take.” Kullinda whispered, but her mouth didn’t move. “There was a set response you could have given. I am sorry. He said you do not yet know what it means to be here, that you are not ready. May never be ready.”
Yejide snorted, blowing air through her nose. She was ready to yell her reply, to make her old friend understand. But she had taken a big risk in passing on anything. A violation like that could lead to banishment. “I have spent the last year getting ready.” She hissed, she felt her lips receding up her face. “I can become a shaman.”
“Yet you do not rhyme.” It felt like an accusation, a stab in the heart.
“Because it is stupid and pointless.” Her voice raised on its own accord. “How is anypony supposed to learn if nothing is ever said?”
“That is why you are not ready. Your mind is still thready.” The voice was low and gravely.
Yejide instantly took a knee, that was the voice of Shaman Mganga.
“Now leave here and embrace your fate. Lest this one’s life you desecrate.”
She knew who the shaman was pointing at. Yejide wanted to argue, wanted to yell, to fight. She moved up to stare him down, and stopped.
Mganga normally had hard round eyes, some said he was actually blind, yet his movements had begged to differ as he had snuck up on her. But today they were different, different even from when he had exited his hut. They looked no different, just as black and just as small. But, somehow, Yejide felt a sense of loss from them. She wasn’t the only one losing something.
The now homeless zebra stumbled, bumping into the old stallion, ignoring her friend. One last thought struck her and she removed the bag from her right hip, unbuckling the straps on her leg, and tossed it to her friend. “I collected these for the herd anyway.”
Kullinda reached her muzzle down for the small leather satchel only to have it pulled away by Mganga. “We cannot accept this gift. Not from someone set adrift. This will aid you while you travel. Lest another life be allowed to unravel.” And her old teacher tossed the bag back to her.
Yejide laid it across her back and walked off; the last thing she wanted was to remain here. She looked at the sky, figuring which way to travel. To the east stood mountains and the potential for more herbs. To the west stood desert and death.
“If redemption you seek. To the west you must peek.”
Taking his last parting words as a sign to enter the Saddle Arabian Desert, Yejide set off.
***
Yejide looked back at the vast desert, glad to be out of it. A feeling of loss spread through her body, not of home for that had passed, but of something else. Something just out of reach.
She had forgotten a waterskin the first time through and had to turn back. As a bonus for her efforts though, she now had dried meat in case of emergencies. It wasn’t her favorite food, quite the opposite, but it traveled well and provided much needed energy. It also reminded any who lost their way just how precious life was.
Her mane and tail had grown long in the past year and a half, whereas they had both been shaved off in the past, now they covered her body; she had taken to braiding them just so the hair stayed out of her way. Yejide turned to the forest, another unfamiliar area which stood out in stark contrast as light brown sand met dark green ferns. At the border the two just blended together.
The zebra made her way through, large paths cleared through the trees, something bigger than her used them regularly; something with two legs and a lot of weight. Yejide moved off the path and into the denser forest, it would make her slightly harder prey.
She began to miss the plains and savannahs of home, the familiar ground and wildlife. Knowing what watering holes had which creatures and mineral deposits. She felt woozy from a lack of salt. A bush off to her left rustled for a second, stopping just before her eyes could focus on it.
Yejide pulled out her small knife, a splotch of blood she didn’t remember on its blade and handle along with bits of sand. The taste of life and metal filled her mouth, blocked by the sense of urgency. IF these are pack hunters than standing here will doom me. If it is a single predator I have a chance only if it cannot surprise me. She took one last look around, another rustle behind her. The zebra turned just in time to catch the hint of white feathers and green serpent tail.
She ran through her memory of animals, but nothing fit the bill. The inkanyamba was never so small or so far inland. Impundulu came with storms; a rockodile did not have physical scales. She had smelled the air to no avail. There was only one plan, she ran.
Her hooves made crashing noises through the lush vegetation and dead branches. Eyes and ears alert. She knew every predator would now be alerted to her presence. If Yejide saw a thick group of vines she would cut them and jump through blindly.
She stopped and many yards later, waited for whatever was trailing her to make the mistake of jumping through the bushes at an armed and trained zebra. And she waited. Nothing came through the brush after her. In fact, it was completely silent except for the sound of chanting.
Chanting? She listened closely. It was an older version, something the zebra hadn’t heard since she was a foal. Yejide followed the sound, still watching for predators. Before long she came across a large tree, there were windows and a door set into its trunk, but the tree was still alive. It even looked like the tree had been hollowed out.
“What kind of magic is this?” Yejide muttered as she walked around the tree, it was like nothing even heard of. Outside by a second door stood two masks, masks that most homes had. They represented ‘hello’ and ‘welcome.’ Following customs, she stamped her hooves outside the door.
“This is Yejide of clan…” She had never done this as just herself.
“This is Yejide seeking…” All she wanted was some company. For the past two years she had been alone. There had been others to visit and talk to, but while Saddle Arabians had a unique view of the world and unique practices, they would never have been able to understand her; she who was without a home. That home, that herd, gave one an existence. If this was a zebra and it followed formal law, then she would never even be granted an audience.
In the end, she had to try though. But, what would she say, how would she greet the home? Those griffons, how did they ask to enter? They were supposed to live around here somewhere. Although I am not sure where exactly here is. Andalusian Mountains?
The chanting was still going on inside, she recognized the rhyme. ‘Monday’s Child.’
“Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child works hard for a living,
Saturday's child is loving and giving,
But the child who is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonnie and blithe and good and gay.”
“If you are going to enter, though do not expect a zebrikan mentor.” The voice called out.
Yejide jumped back, she had lost herself in the old rhyme.
“Do not jump with a start, instead take it to heart. With this brew some help I could use, before you ask, your problem is easy to deduce.”
Yejide glared at the door, it was a shaman, a female shaman in the middle of nowhere. A roar could be heard elsewhere in the forest.
The zebra entered and immediately felt at home. This was the place of a shaman, one with deep spiritual connections. What is she doing way out here?
This new zebra came out from behind a golden cauldron and started gathering ingredients; pointing to others for Yejide to grab and prepare. There were more ingredients than the young zebra had ever seen; so many new materials. The one that grabbed her attention most was also the one the shaman was asking for. The spring green stem moved up to an orchid-colored heart-shaped petals that folded against each other, with auroelin sprigs sticking out of the bloom.
Yejide watched the shaman work. So many years of experience could be seen in the new shaman’s work, on the level of Mganga. Slowly the concoction condensed into a pure white liquid which she then bottled, cleaned out the cauldron and started on another potion.
“Zecora is thy name, to not ask is a shame. Knowledge and Wisdom are never the same. If one is just given the answers they seek, the mind becomes lazy and the soul becomes weak. Rhymes serve to force the young to think, and the shaman to learn and then to critique. Slow thoughtful movement is the life I bare, the better for knowledge and experience to gain and share.”
Yejide stood and stared at Zecora. Not even Mganga was that good at predicting what a zebra would do or was thinking. How could she know? The outcast blocked out the world as she thought, barely noticing the concoction hardening in the pot. She ignored that it was in rhyme, this was the first time anypony had made a comparison between knowledge and wisdom.
There was her blank flank, her lack of proper calling to enter the home, her long disheveled mane, maybe even having determined the ingredients in her bag. But hermits were a rare thing for zebras to become due to their need for community. The only times they would do that were in the pursuit of knowledge or running from something. This Zecora had not been banished; at least she didn’t have the mark of one.
“Do not misconceive, but it is time for you to leave.” Zecora said, breaking up the solidified mass and grinding it up in a small mortar and pestle. “You are needed in another place, if your future you wish to face.”
Yejide saw the sun lowering outside. She would have to leave soon. Where should I go? Where can I go? The world is so large and I still can’t understand. The markless zebra opened the door and stared at the dark forest, already she could hear predators up and about.
“The world it grows yet do not fear, pay close attention to that which you hold dear.”
Yejide closed the door to those finals words, the forest looked like a different world than it did during the day. Shadows were deep as a yellow spot moved through the black. A slight rustling of leaves and snapping of a twig off in the distance. The zebra breathed through her nose and mouth to get a better scent, the forest had become so pungent with the smells of death and life for the unfamiliar to parse them.
She pulled the knife from its sheath and held it as she moved slowly through the verdant brush. She took a wide path around a patch of cobalt blue flowers, afraid they were the infamous plant poison joke. Brightly colored plants were always to be avoided, even predators avoided them. She lost track of time unable to see the moon’s path.
Her mind kept going over the words, the rhymes and meanings slipping. Again, rhymes were inefficient, if they couldn’t be discerned quick enough; whatever they contained was lost. What possible use could they have? Yejide did wish she could have stayed in that hut, or with some company. Being on her own was wearing on the zebra. It was only now she realized how much. Alone, afraid, and mad. She did what she could to shove every emotion aside, hesitation led to death.
As she continued to wander the forest, around what she hoped was midnight. Yejide heard a rasping breath close by shallow and small The zebra crouched low and listened, taking rapid tastes of air. There was nothing else she could sense, there may have been a snake off somewhere but she couldn’t tell. The creature sounded like it was injured. She debated whether to help, maybe put the thing out of its misery as it was clearly dying.
She rounded the tree slowly, hesitant from a trap. There were plenty of creatures that would act weak to lure in prey and others that would use injured prey to catch something bigger. The trees were unmarred; bark intact with no loose strands. No limbs were bowed from excess weight; the foliage looked unmoved except for weirdly oblong footprints.
Yejide needn’t have bothered; lying against the tree was the dying creature, a product of its own stupidity. The creature had long arms and legs like a dragon,
The creature gave a weak cough, blood with gold flecks dribbled from his mouth. The auviper’s poison worked fast, turning whatever it bit into pure gold.
Yejide turned to go, but she heard the thing whispering; not just whispering, but whispering in a language she knew.
“Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.” Its voice cracked, pleading. “Please don’t leave me. I know I’m dead, no one survives the King Midas Snake, But I don’t want to die alone.”
She turned on the creature; it shouldn’t have been able to see her. She finally understood ‘wisdom’ and it filled her with fury. There are things you cannot fight against in this world, the flow of time and the creep of death. Knowledge is useless against such forces. It is a wave crashing against a rocky shore. Everything has its time and- The idea of hopelessness and just casting others off.
“Oriṣa-Binrin no!” Yejide spat, at herself, the creature, Mganga, and the world. It was true, there had never been anyone saved from such a toxic poison, it worked too fast and the damage couldn’t be undone. But it was still alive. She approached, using her hooves to check the gums and teeth; she had to know what kind of medicines it could take. Omnivore, it has the canines, incisors, and molars. Good, it can eat anything, now just to hope the herbs aren’t poison to it. Knife still in her mouth she held the leg down and made a quick slice across the flesh, the blade was sharp enough to face no resistance as it cut. Blood trickled out, and with any luck some of the poison would go with it.
The creature stared at her in shock and the trickling blood. “What the hell are you doing?” It tried to back away on its hands, being against the tree kept it from moving.
Yejide replaced her knife. “It is to pull out poison. What creature can be so stupid?” She pulled out some itse and chewed it into a paste then placed it on the puncture marks. It left a green texture through her mouth; the paste quickly took on the color of the creature’s skin, in moments the thing was unconscious. Itse was a wonderful plant found at the bottom of rivers, an analgesic.
Unfortunately, now she had to drag the thing to that patch of poison joke. The shirt at least gave her a grasping point. The thing wasn’t heavy at 120 pounds, but it got stuck on so many branches, the clothing worked against the zebra. Yejide let his body drop and ponyhandled him onto her back. It was easier going and soon they were at the treacherous plant.
She hesitated; poison joke had a nasty sense of humor that couldn’t be predicted. Even a slight touch would cover a pony in pollen and let the magic infuse the target. It worked like a neurotoxin and spread through the body instantly, but it waited for the target to sleep and would then use their magic for its own purposes. The cure was also a very hard thing to find, next to impossible without a large supply and time.
Yejide trampled the blue plants, thoroughly covering them both in pollen. It would hurt later, probably hurt a lot. But it should counteract the auviper’s toxins for a time, death wasn’t funny. She laid him out, hoping it was a he by the broader jaw, and felt for magical currents in his body. They were so faint, it was as if this thing didn’t use magic like all other life did, that would explain how he was still alive and would make her job harder. The coloration has spread, his skin taking on a golden sheen.
Slowly the poison joke was working; she could feel the magic eddies if she concentrated. It was turning the gold into pyrite, forcing the gold to attack itself and not the host. If there was just a bit of silver she could have made a wrap to block out ambient magic.
Yejide realized the auviper would be mad at the lost meal, pulling her back off to see exactly what she had to work with. She picked up each item and placed them into a ceramic bowl. Soil from around her, the stuff from which all life springs. A bit of the plant from Zecora’s, having remembered it as heart’s desire to fulfil her wish. Wyrm’s root to absorb gold, a byproduct of their journey eating various minerals. And finally, she pulled out the knife, making an incision across her hoof, the creature didn’t have its own magic so this would have to be used to connect them.
Yejide stirred until it became a mass of paste. Theoretically this could work. Theoretically it could also kill. The soil would provide a basis for life to spring from the blood and travel through his body carrying her wish while the Wyrm’s root finished off the gold poison.
She took a hooffull of the concoction and shoved it in her mouth, the taste of blood causing her to retch and force the zebra to her knees. That was one taste she couldn’t stand, even with the hyenas. Yejide gathered her will, there was no way this would defeat her, not after struggling and fighting so save his life. Spitting a small amount onto the leg wound, she rubbed it over; glad the creature didn’t wear full length pants.
The next step would be the more vital. She moved up to his head, rechecking his mouth, checking the throat, checking his pulse and that he would stay asleep. The zebra pressed her lips against those of the creature; they had a chill while his mouth contained an intense heat. Slowly Yejide used her tongue to move the concoction into his mouth, working her hooves along his throat, forcing him to swallow. After the third bit she felt him respond, his lips moving. She ignored his motions and finished forcing the medication into his system.
She sat back and waiting, pulling off her waterskin and swallowing what medicine remained in her mouth. It needed to connect them. Now all she could do was lie down and wait, hopefully come morning the thing would still be alive.
***
Yejide rolled onto her back. The scent of life and the fight for survival filled every sense. She was connected to the world like never before, stretching her legs toward the sky. A soft breeze causing the poison joke to wave in the crisp morning air. Soft snoring could be heard from deeper in the patch, the creature was still alive. It had woken up just long enough to give thanks and say it was a researcher from some country called Earth.
It had been a crazy night, the auviper had tracked them, Yejide had barely woken up in time to kill it. But, there was a sense of peace she had not felt before, it was profoundly more than during her journey.
Mganga was right. I would be a horrible shaman. He has to decide what is worth spending resources on, who is more important to the community and who to save in a disaster. Or worse, in an epidemic who gets saved. That is not me. The realization came to her during the long night. I am too much the fighter. I could have died, poisoned myself, fallen into a trap. All on being able to do the impossible. Buck wisdom.
Yejide looked at her flank, it had caused her to freak out during the night until she realized it was the joke. The funny thing was, it led to her discovery. There, where her mark would go was the sign for BANISHED. A ball of fighting snakes, a creature that would kill itself and everyone else they were near.