//------------------------------// // 24 - Jealous Gods // Story: The Other Side of the Horizon // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// There is some debate about the most dangerous place in Equestria. The Everfree Forest is a popular choice, perhaps the most popular one. Between a mother Ursa and her cub is another. Among those who know of it, within several miles of the Flamecano on the brink of eruption. There’s also anywhere Celestia and/or Luna can find you after you try to hurt their little ponies. In recent years, however, a new contender has sprung up: between Twilight and one of her friends in trouble. Twilight didn’t knock the door to the bar off its hinges, but she still went through fast enough that it slammed into the wall hard enough to leave a dent, bounced back, and hit Stormwalker on the nose after she tried to follow Twilight through. She surveyed the situation in an instant: an all-out brawl between two groups of zebras, trashing every object available, and right in the middle was Applejack, currently dive-tackling a zebra across the bar. Unfortunately, there was so much going on that Twilight couldn’t recognize any of the zebras. One of the fighters, big even by zebra standards and with a face dripping lightly with soup, pulled herself out of the crowd to glare at Twilight. Short, broad knives were strapped to both of her front forehooves, one of them flipped out and ready. She pointed at Twilight with the deployed knife and growled, “This doesn’t concern you, missy. Leave now, and we won’t follow.” Missy?! Twilight nearly exploded. Instead, she lowered her head, pawed at the ground, and said, “Not a chance.” A shrug. “You asked for it.” The zebra charged, roaring a war cry. Twilight instinctively backpedaled and threw up a shield as the zebra lunged with a knife. The moment the knife hit the shield, Twilight immediately felt the tingle of grounding. But she also felt the equal and opposite tingle of earth magic pushing back. The shield didn’t budge, and the knife, rather than ripping through like it was butter, bounced off like it was rubber. Satisfied, Twilight dropped the illusions on herself and Stormwalker, as they weren’t much use anymore. Less than half a second later, in what was probably a record of some kind, the zebra’s roar had turned into a quizzical “huh?” as she looked at her rebounded knife had turned into an extremely high-pitched scream of terror as she saw Twilight’s shield and new form. The zebra staggered backward, tripped, landed hard on her tail, curled up into a ball, and quietly squeaked, “Mercy.” Actually squeaked, considering her voice had gone up at least two octaves. In spite of the (lack of) volume, it was like a pin dropping; everybody in the bar suddenly stopped and turned to look at Twilight and Stormwalker. Half of the zebras twitched, as if in shock. Before it could start up again, Twilight grabbed everyone (except for Applejack) in her magic and lifted them a few inches off the ground, just enough for them to not get a grip on the ground. Much gasping, screaming, and helpless flailing of limbs ensued. “Twilight!” Applejack flopped over the bar and darted between the floating zebras to Twilight. Her legs twitched, like she wanted to hug Twilight, but she couldn’t do that without breaking her concentration. “What’re you doin’ here? Y’all alright, sugarcube?” “Someone out here’s trying to kill me,” Twilight said. Applejack blinked. “…Oh. Um…” “Look, I’ll tell you later. It takes a lot of focus to keep all these zebras up without them smacking into each other.” When everyone had eventually calmed down, Twilight cleared her throat. “Okay,” she said, “I came here to meet some people. Obviously, some of you are not those people. So let’s find out which of you are those people and which are not. And let’s make it quick, shall we?” She didn’t add that she wanted to make it quick because independently holding up almost two dozen separate zebras was taxing on her control. One of the zebras cleared her throat; Twilight recognized her as Idube, and before she could start talking, Twilight lowered her to the ground, and released her. “Sorry,” said Twilight. “That is fine,” Idube said as she shook herself off. “You are speaking in Zebran.” “Translation spell.” Idube cocked her head. “So…” Her voice changed, becoming more fluid, less stilted. “…can you understand me like this? When I speak Zebran?” “Yeah.” “If you had a translation spell,” spoke up one of the zebras — spoke up Zecora — “then why did you bring me, pray tell?” “Sorry,” Twilight said, releasing Zecora, “but Livingstone ran into the right people once we got into Kulikulu, and if I’d known we would find a translation spell, I-” Zecora chuckled. “Oh, no, that is perfectly fine. Now you don’t need me all the time.” Idube helped Twilight sort out the good zebras and the bad zebras. Everyone was varying degrees of beaten up; a few zebras on both sides were limping slightly (no broken bones), and a lot of Idube’s zebras had at least a few cuts (no stab wounds, though). The attackers were corralled into the corner and Twilight whistled up several streamers of magic to tie them up. But then… “So, now what?” Twilight asked her group. “I mean…” She looked over her shoulder for a second. “We can’t just leave them here, but-” “Can’t we question them?” said Applejack. “They were here for me, so we should find out who hired them or whatever. Then we can, I dunno, get the police or somethin’ and let them worry ‘bout it.” “Rrrrright,” said Twilight, smacking herself in the face. “That’d be the smart idea, wouldn’t it? Oh, and…” Her horn glowed, and several sparkles drifted over Applejack, swirling in winds that weren’t there. “There. Now you can understand zebras, even if they don’t speak Equestrian.” “Uh. Thanks,” said Applejack. She took a few steps back to get out of Twilight’s mane and started looking at her hooves, as if a translation spell would change their appearance. Twilight took a deep breath, swallowed, turned to the captive zebras, opened her mouth, and had her groove ruined when she was tapped on the shoulder by Stormwalker. “So, um,” Stormwalker whispered, “I’ll just, um, just stand behind you and try to look intimidating, since, um, you seem to have it under control.” “You do that,” Twilight muttered back, waving her off. She’d just been settling into the zone, and to be interrupted right then… But oh well. The zebras in the corner still looked scared. Twilight paced back and forth in front of them, giving them her best death glare. It must’ve worked; they all tried to shrink into balls. “You,” Twilight said eventually, “have attacked my friends. I do not like it when people attack my friends. But we can still solve this peacefully if you answer my questions. Is there anyone who can answer for all of you, so we can make this quick?” Several of the zebras made squeaky-toy noises in fear. One zebra wiggled a little until her head was a few inches above the others, and said in a voice that was trying (badly) to be brave, “I- I am.” It took a few seconds of moving zebras about, but Twilight had soon plucked the zebra (who turned out to be the same one who’d “greeted” her once she entered the Bonde Baa) from the mass and dropped her on the floor in front of her. She didn’t add any magical restraints. She didn’t need to; the zebra made no attempt to even move. She lay on her side on the floor, shivering, staring up at Twilight with wide eyes and shrunken pupils. Well, when you were questioning someone, you could go worse with having them almost petrified in fear. This may or may not have been off to a good start. “And your name is?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m…” The zebra swallowed. “I’m Isosha.” “So, Isosha,” said Twilight, “exactly why were you attacking my friends?” She spread her wings and pushed enough magic into her horn to start it glowing. That ought to look nice and menacing. Isosha quailed and curled up on the floor even more. “We- we were paid. We, we’re mercenaries and- and one day some abada came up and asked us to capture a pony. Her, as, as it turned out.” She pointed at Applejack. “And, and it seemed like an easy job, but then she warned us about you, but then she said it was only a slim chance we’d run into you, and she said if we did see you you’d fall to certain weapons, and she gave us these-” She held up her front leg, displaying its stowed knife. Her voice started speeding up. “-and she said they’d work like nine times over and then you came and they didn’t work and you can move the freaking sun and I tried to kill you and they didn’t work and oh ancestors please don’t kill me!” She shielded her head with her forelegs and curled up so tightly Twilight was sure she was risking breaking a few ribs. Okay, that was a bit much. Actually, no, it was a lot much. But she could work with it. Twilight frowned. “But how’d you know Applejack was here? Kulikulu’s a big city. She could’ve been anywhere.” “The, the abada, she gave us th-” Isosha pulled her head from her ball. “Mizigo,” she said to the zebras, “show her the tracker.” One of the zebras on the outside grumbled. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Is-” “Mizigo, show her the tracker.” “Seriously, Isosha, you shouldn’t just give it up like th-” Isosha’s voice was growing high-pitched. “She wants to see the tracker. Show her the tracker.” Mizigo raised his voice. “Look, maybe you’re different, but I don’t betray my employers just because someone scares me a little.” “This,” hissed Isosha, “is different. Just for starters, she’s a shapeshifter.” “Shapeshifters only exist in fairy tales. I don’t bel-” “Look, I don’t believe in fairy tales, either. But I believe in what I see with my own two eyes, and she was a zebra when she walked in here before sprouting wings and a horn! She’s a shapeshifter!” Twilight bit her lip, doing her best to not correct them. It was just an illusion, not full-blown shapeshifting; it was an important distinction. But as long as they believed she could shapeshift, they’d believe she could do more stuff she couldn’t actually do, and they’d cave more easily. “And, and look at you!” continued Isosha. “You’re tied up with a rope made of energy! She stopped a knife with a shield made of energy she summoned from nowhere! She’s not just a shapeshifter, she’s- It’s- I mean, just-” She hit her head a few times. “And did you forget that she can move the sun? I’m lucky she hasn’t decided to start digging around in my mind for what she wants!” Yeah, they’d cave more easily. Twilight didn’t know any sort of mental magic like that; the idea of casually breaking open someone’s mind, the place they should have complete privacy, and rooting around in it made her skin crawl. But, hey, if it made Isosha more likely to talk, she wasn’t going to speak up and correct her. Mizigo looked at Twilight, nibbling on his lip. When he spoke again, a hint of doubt had crept into his words. “It’s the… It’s the sun,” he said slowly. “That abada was… was probably exaggerating.” “Oh, it wasn’t an exaggeration,” Twilight said brightly. Try to sound casual, she told herself. Make it sound like it’s no big deal. “I moved the sun just two evenings ago. If you want, we can go outside and I can move it again so you ca-” “See? See?!” said Isosha, pointing a shaking hoof at Twilight. “She can do it! I told you I’d seen something! I told you!” “I…” mumbled Mizigo, “I still th-” Isosha exploded and got right in Mizigo’s face, nearly bellowing out her words and spraying his face with spittle. “Oh, I’m sorry, do you want to piss off the sun-moving, shapeshifting demigod? No? Then for the love of all that is holy, shut up and give her the stupid tracker!” Demigod? That was a new one. Mizigo cringed. “Alright,” he snapped, shaking his face. “Just…” He wiggled his legs to see how much free space he had. “Give me a moment to get it out.” He began working a hoof towards a pocket. Turning back to Twilight, Isosha flashed the rare smile that can only come when one thinks themselves completely, utterly screwed. “I am so so so so so sorry but he can be a bit boneheadedly loyal at times and I would’ve given you the tracker first thing if I’d had it but I didn’t so I couldn’t and I swear it’s not my fault PLEASE DON’T TURN ME INTO AN AGAMA!” She held her grin, hyperventilating through her nose. Twilight had to stop herself from asking what an agama was. It’d kinda ruin her mystique if she didn’t know what she was supposed to be turning her hapless victim into. She also had to stop herself from assuring Isosha she wouldn’t do any turning of anybody into anything, for much of the same reasons. She settled for giving Isosha a disdainful look that made her squeak again and hop a foot away. “Here- we- go,” grunted Mizigo. A small glass orb popped out of his pocket, which he nudged toward Twilight. She scooped it up and looked at it. Inside was a cluster of lights, pointing out from the center in lines. Most of them were pointing off in a seemingly arbitrary direction, but three of them were pointing to the ponies in the bar: Applejack, Stormwalker, and herself. The one aimed at her was more than twice as bright as any of the others. “The, the abada gave us that,” said Isosha quickly. “She said just ignore that one clump and follow the other one. And when we went out, there was only one. So we followed that.” Twilight sent a quick pulse of magic through the orb to find out the structure inside. It was just a basic tracker for magic concentrated in living things. Of course, with Applejack one of the only magical beings in Zebrabwe outside Kulikulu, it would point only to her. The exception was the cluster that was probably pointing at the palace, with its abadas and ponies. The range was a bit large, but that could track Applejack in the Serembarti with little difficulty. “I see,” she said, tucking the orb under her wing. “And what about the abada? What can you tell me about her?” “Not much I’m sorry!” yelped Isosha. “When, when she visited, she had this- this spell that turned her all black, like a shadow or like she was absorbing all the light that fell on her. I couldn’t see any facial features or colors on her.” Hnng. Unfortunate, but to be expected. Someone ordering an assassination or kidnapping usually wouldn’t be so stupid as to meet with the people they were hiring as themselves if they had the option to not be themselves. On the other hoof: abada. That pointed things toward Mtendaji a little bit more, but she could’ve just been using a messenger of some kind. But even if she was using a messenger, it strengthened the connection to Imayini a bit more. It was the only group Twilight knew of in Kulikulu that had abadas. Isosha was still rambling. “And even if she hadn’t done that, I couldn’t describe her. All abadas look the same to me,” she mumbled. Still tied up, Mizigo spoke up from the zebra cluster. “That’s racist.” “For the last time,” yelled Isosha, whirling on Mizigo, “it’s called the cross-species effect, and it’s been scientifically proven, and it means abadas can’t tell zebras apart either, so shut up!” She twitched and zipped back to Twilight, grinning that “oh crap” grin. “I’m sorry, but-” “Isosha’s right,” Twilight said blandly to Mizigo. Truth be told, this had always been a bit of psychology that fascinated her, but she couldn’t start gushing about it in front of her prisoners. Being an interrogator sucked. “Any given person is more likely to tell apart individuals of their own species than another species. I assume you’ve worked with abadas more often?” Mizigo shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.” “The cross-species effect can be overcome with experience, as you learn to identify different facial and body features. So you might be able to tell abadas apart, but she really can’t. And it’s not her fault.” Isosha looked at Twilight like she wanted to hug her, then run away screaming at the top of her lungs. She settled for a cough and a look to the other side of the room. One last thing. “The abada…” Twilight began. “What did she say about me?” “She, um, she said you, you were like super-powerful,” Isosha spouted, “and she said she saw you move the sun. And some people said that was impossible, but I could’ve sworn I’d seen the sun wiggle a little when she said she’d seen you move it, so I had an open mi-” “She saw it personally?” said Twilight, taking a step towards Isosha. “Yes!” squealed Isosha, trying to scramble away without getting up. “She said she was at this political dinner where you said you were going to move the sun and then you did and that’s the truth I swear!” She curled into a ball again and ducked her head underneath her forelegs. “But she said that in the end you were an ordinary pony underneath it all and the weapons she gave us ought to cut through your magic and make you harmless but then they didn’t and-” Twilight let Isosha babble. Ordinary pony underneath it all. It rang in Twilight’s ears, calling up a memory that was a lot closer than it felt like. That was the phrase Mtendaji had said to her in the medical wing when she’d first woken up, wasn’t it? The abada who’d hired these zebras being at the dinner already steered the investigation a lot towards her, but there was still the possibility, however slim, that they could’ve been lying to try to frame Mtendaji for it (even if that made things a bit complicated). That phrase, though… No one else was around to hear it who made sense: only her guards and Spike (out for obvious reasons), Uvivi (out for saving her), and Mhate (out for various reasons, such as freely talking about grounding). And, after seeing your target move the sun, it sounded like a mantra you’d keep saying to reassure yourself that they could be killed. She’s an ordinary pony underneath it all… She’s an ordinary pony underneath it all… Technically, Twilight still had no concrete proof that it was Mtendaji. But by now, it’d take an awful lot to convince her it wasn’t. “-knew I should’ve gotten more info,” said Isosha, “and she was probably being overconfident an-” “Quiet,” said Twilight. “I’ve got everything I need.” Isosha stopped and peeked from behind her legs. “Really?” she said quietly. “You’re done?” Twilight nodded. “I’m done.” Her horn shimmered, and the line of energy around the zebras reached out to ensnare Isosha and draw her back into the group. She didn’t struggle, and actually looked a bit relieved that she didn’t have to deal with Twilight anymore. Idube was talking even as Twilight turned back to her. “If that’s enough for you, I’ll send someone out to find the police, a-” And then the door to the bar burst open and another group of zebras poured in, strapped into repeating crossbow harnesses. “Police!” the first one bellowed around the trigger in her mouth. “Fr-” She cut herself off almost immediately as she looked over the bar and the various equines inside. She sighed, removed the trigger from her mouth, and slowly slackened her bow. “We’re tardy, aren’t we?” “I… I think so,” said Twilight. She glanced at Idube, who shrugged. “Tardy for what?” “We received numerous reports of an armed gang making threats here,” said the cop, “and I presume that’s the gang?” She pointed at the bound zebras in the corner. “Uh…” Twilight looked at Idube again, who nodded. “Yeah, they are.” The cop sighed. “I feel ridiculously incompetent.” To the zebras behind her, she yelled, “Slacken your bows, mares! This area is non-hostile.” The police quickly set about restraining the mercenaries once Twilight released them from their “rope”. As they did that, their leader, Officer Mapurisa, started talking with Twilight. “So, um, Princess- Your proper title is Princess, right? I apologize, it slipped my mind.” “Princess, right, but just call me Twilight.” “Alright, Pri- Twilight. I realize I technically can’t keep you from leaving here, but I was hoping I could ask you a few-” Idube stepped in. “She wasn’t here when the gang first arrived, but I was. I can give you more information than she can.” Mapurisa shrugged. “If that’s simpler. I suppose you can leave, Pr- Twilight.” “You should go,” Idube added to Twilight, “if only to get off the streets. They’re after you, not zebras. We’ll be fine, and we’ll get those carts to you by tomorrow noon at the very latest. Later this evening, most likely.” “Alright,” said Twilight. It felt a bit strange to just be leaving — it was the exact opposite of what she’d do in Equestria — but Idube had a point. “We’ll see you later, then. And Idube? Thanks for getting Applejack and Zecora here safely.” She looked down and nudged a broken bottle away from her hoof. “Relatively speaking.” Idube waved a hoof. “It was nothing.” Zecora was nursing a sore leg (she could still walk just fine, though), and Applejack and Stormwalker seemed to be held captive by a zebra grilling them about how pegasi could walk on clouds. They all seemed happy to get going once Twilight suggested it. “I’ve already seen enough of this place to last me a lifetime,” said Applejack. “It probably would be best to get going as soon as possible,” said Stormwalker. “Obviously, we won’t be in danger if we’re attacked-” She glanced at the corner where the mercenaries had been held. “-but it would still be unpleasant.” “And right now,” said Zecora, “I’m not at my best.” She placed some weight on her bad leg and twitched slightly, but that was it. “I think I am in need of rest.” She took a few more steps just fine. “All I need to heal my wounds is a simple, good, long snooze.” “Glad to hear you’re okay in spite of your leg,” said Twilight. “Tell me if you need any help, okay?” She put her hoof on the door pedal. “Um, uh, hey.” A zebra cautiously poked her head out from behind the bar and said quietly, “Um, uh, I’m, I’m, I’m the, uh, the bartender, and I, I was just, uh, y’know, just wondering if, if you were, uh, gonna just, just gonna leave it all like, all like this, or if, uh, you were gonna, gonna pay for it, and, and, and how I, how I should… I’llshutupnow.” “Oh! Sorry. Don’t worry, I got it,” said Twilight. How could she forget the way the place had been so thoroughly trashed? Her horn started glowing and the pieces of a broken table lifted into the air, surrounded by a lavender haze. Each piece found its proper place and the table fused back together. Twilight immediately went to work on the next table. Every zebra in the place (except for Zecora) gasped and took a step away from Twilight, staring at her display of magic. As she went down the bar, repairing every bit of damage she could find, Twilight smiled at the bartender. “Sorry about that. But it’s been a weird week for me, and I guess it followed me here. I hope I’ve gotten things fixed up for you.” The bartender’s ear twitched as she looked over her spotless establishment, then she suddenly grinned broadly in a “You know what? I don’t care anymore” sort of way. “Yeeeeaaaah. Greeeeaaaat. Thaaaanks.” She grabbed a bottle from behind the bar, popped the cap off and took a loooong drink from it. Slamming the bottle down, she yelled, “If any of you cops need a drink when you’re done, the bar’s still open!”