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// Chapter Four - Poison Joke and Poison Truths 
// Story: In Good Hands 
// by StoryWeaverKP 
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Poison Joke and Poison Truths


Man, does your body ache. It is a good thing that Rarity knew that spell for rapid recovery, otherwise you’d have been bedridden for at least a week.

You exit your bedroom to a pleasant surprise, which suddenly turns sour. Rarity is sitting in your kitchen, and the mere sight of her sends your heart a flutter. Usually when you see one another, she beams an elegant smirk your way. Today however, concern covers her face like a thick, oily beauty mask. Her eyes are downcast, and her bottom lip is forming the most adorable pout.

“Rarity,” you ask. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

For a brief moment, a twinkling dances in her eyes once they drift up to meet your own. However anchors drag her mood back down again.

“Oh, good morning, Anon,” She says dully. “How does your body feel? I certainly hope my spell eased your discomfort.”

You grin at her. “Yeah, I’m a little sore, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle.” You pause for a second. “I asked you how you were doing. Is something bothering you?”

An overly dramatic sigh flows past Rarity’s lips. “I suppose I can’t hide my inner most thoughts from you, can I Anon?”

To be honest, Rarity couldn’t really hide her inner most feelings from any pony. Her demeanor, her cadence in speech, and her poise all derived from her inner balance. When she was confident and delighted, it showed in every expression and interaction. And when she wasn’t….

You sit at the table across from her. “What’s up?”

She lingers for a moment before she lets out another loud sigh. “As you know, Big Mac is still very sick, and therefore not able to perform. I have been wracking my mind trying to figure out how to best restructure all the music for the Pony Tones without an underlying base… but no matter what I try, it still sounds lacking.” She lays her head on the table. “We’re going to have to cancel our performance at the festival.”

You frown. “There’s really no solutions?”

Rarity glances up at you, even though her head is still on the table. Her mane covers the table’s surface like an elegant and ornate cloth.

“The only solution we have isn’t possible because no pony has time to get it done,” Rarity replies. “Fluttershy is working on three other projects, I have my hoofs full with a dozen little things, and the other two members are also swamped with obligations.”

“Well, maybe I can do this solution for you all. What needs to be done?” you reply.

Slowly, Rarity lifts her head. “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. It would be dangerous.”

A small degree of fear dances at the back of your throat. “Dangerous? How dangerous are we talking?”

Silence dominates the room for a moment. “Well… it would require you to go into the Everfree Forest to retrieve a rather bothersome plant.”

You place your hands on the side of your cheeks and give Rarity your best mock frightened face. Even your voice warbles with ‘tremors’. “Oh no, not a plant.”

Rarity lets out a slightly amused chuckle that resonates with annoyance. “Did you forget the Everfree Forest is populated by manticores, timberwolves, and other such monstrosities?”

The mocking nature dissipates, and your eyes widen. Ever so softly, you mutter “oh yeah…”

“And that is exactly why I can’t have you traipsing into such a nasty environment.” Rarity placed a hoof of your shoulder. “Just forget it, Anon. It will be okay if we cancel.”

You brush off her hoof. “No! I don’t want you to cancel. You all have been working your butts off for weeks on these routines. If there is a solution, I can do it, no matter how dangerous. I’ll just be careful.”

Rarity winced. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

You chuckle, “How bad could it be?”

She sits back and eyeballs you for about a minute.

“The plant you are going to be looking for is called ‘Poison Joke’,” Rarity said. “We had first encountered it years ago, but we used it again last year.”

A sudden geyser of anxiety bubbled within your stomach. “Poison Joke? Is it actually toxic? Or is it more like Poison Ivy?”

Rarity frowned. “What is poison ivy?”

“Um… it makes your skin itch,” You reply.

“Oh.” Rarity titled her head for a second. “No, Poison Joke doesn’t make your skin itch and it won’t kill you directly.” She rolled her eyes. “You might die from ‘embarrassment’, but it's sort of a practical joke kind of flower.”

The desire to ask more questions pulsates in your mind, but you clamp your mouth shut. Rarity also waits, and when it is clear that you aren’t going to make inquiries, you continues.

“The reason this is relevant is because when Fluttershy becomes exposed to Poison Joke, her beautiful soprano voice deepens to that of a master base opera singer.”

You grin. “I get it. You want me to collect this plant and give it to Fluttershy, who can then stand in for Big Mac.”

Rarity nods. “ Yes, well, that is the best solution if you think you’ll be able to safely venture into and come back from the Everfree Forest.”

You shrug. “How bad could it be?”

***

When you were back on Earth, you had walked on a few forest hiking trails. It wasn’t so bad, and it was even a little peaceful.

This place is not like that all.

Maybe it was the fact that you know about the monsters who live here, or maybe it’s because you know that you’re the only one of your kind in all the world. You have never eaten human meat before, but you have seen plenty of horror movies where monsters do. If zombies, vampires, werewolves, and clowns are keen to get their feast on, then perhaps these monsters would also enjoy the taste of your sweet flesh.

Thousands of trees surround you, and it creates a somewhat relaxing haze of browns and greens. That’s misleading though, for while you are enamored by the splendor of nature, some terrible monstrosity could be sneaking up on you any moment.

Your heart thuds in your chest, and your palms become a little more slick. Even your back starts to get a little moist. There is no path, and so you are stepping on grass, sticks, leaves, and other such things. Silence is your only companion.

You are the only human in Equestria, perhaps the only one who has ever been here, and to the local fauna, you must be a bizarre oddity.

How are you even supposed to find this Poison Joke, anyway? All Rarity said was it is a deceivingly pretty blue flower.

A sudden voice stops you in your tracks.

“Oh my! This cannot be! Do my eyes deceive?
 Amy? Is that you? I want to believe!”

A sudden chill slithers up your back, and you turn around. The voice sound so close that you co-

You step back as a strange pony peers up at you with observant eyes. The pony’s eyes are blueish green, and her coat is light grey with darker grey stripes at various places. Her mane is a tall, 1980’s style punk mohawk.

The pony creature squints.

“Wait a moment, you are a man!” she says in a husky, thick accent. “Is that you Brad? Or are you Stan?”

You step back again. “W-what? My name is Anon.”

She tilts her head, and her eyes take on a pensive sparkle. The pony nods a second later.

“Another one has come at last.
I confused you for another from the past.
Forgive my inconsideration,
I am Zacora from the Zebra Nation.”

“Wait, you’re a zebra?” You ask.

She frowns. “Why are you saying it like zee-bra? How strange.
It is pronounced zeh-bra. It's only a little change.”

“Oh….” a wave of heat flows through your cheeks. “Zebra. I didn’t know this world had zebras.”

Zacora smiled. “This world has many strange things, indeed.
Some things are locked away, while others freed.
What brings you into the forest today?
You are far where most ponies stay?
Is a risky walk what you are seeking?
Or is there something else that has your interest piquing?”

You reply, “I’m seeking a flower called ‘Poison Joke.’”

Zacora tilts her head again. “A strange boon to be hunting for,
what has caused this peculiar chore?”

“Oh, well Rarity needs it to make Flutt-” You start to say.

Zacora’s eyes light up. “Flutterguy! Voice as deep as a valley,
Ponies collect to hear her sing, as if it's a rally.
Your quest is wrought with good intentions,
So its location I’ll be glad to mention.
Follow me, to the spot I shall take you,
We are looking for patches of blue.
But be careful not to touch its petals,
For it you do, the flower meddles,
Your greatest trait will turn to a curse,
The changes are somewhat terse,
After a night of sleep, you will see,
You might be different as different can be.”

“Thank you,” You say. “I appreciate you helping me.”

She simply nods and starts walking down a somewhat trampled path of grass. Perhaps she uses this trail often enough to mark her way.

Silence drifts back around you, and a twisting set of quandaries demands to be spoken into creation.

“Um…. Zacora,” you ask.

She stops and glances back at you, waiting for you to continue. No sense in wasting rhymes for clarification, you suppose.

“So… have there been other people like me in Equestria before?” You ask.

“Why yes, of course. Many in fact!
There have been so many that I have lost track.”

“Well, then how come every pony treats me like I’m strange?” You ask.

For a moment, Zacora’s delight falls from her face, and she beams a sad frown at you.

“Some of your kind are wonderful, others … are not,
That is a bitter lesson that we pony folk were taught.
When things go sour, and they always do,
Precautions are taken to cover what is true.”

A wild tingling flares within you. “What do you mean, cover what it true?”

Zacora replied, “The first time it happened, I fell under its sway,
What ever memories I had of certain folk refused to stay.
I knew something was off from the tinglings I felt,
But it was too late, the damage was dealt.”

“The first time what happened?” You ask.

The tension in the forest amplifies, and it’s harder to catch your breath.

Zacora glances about warily. She licks her lips and speaks in a whisper.

“A great magic wave sweeps through the world,
And a sort of mental erasing is unfurled,
The first time I didn’t know what was taken,
After the second, I became quite shaken.
When the wave came again, to rob me of my thoughts,
I coated myself in arcane draughts.”

You frown. “What’s a draught.”

Zacora eased her head back for a moment. “A draught is like a magic potion,
Only I made it thick like some massaging lotion.
I smeared it on my coat and closed me eyes,
When the wave passed, I was  not compromised.”

You move over to a small hill beside the path you two are traveling on. Your legs give out under you, and you sit on the grassy patch. Zacora sits next to you.

“So…” you start to say. “A magic wave of energy swept through the land and made the other ponies forget about the other humans that have been here?”

Zacora nods.

You wince. “You said some humans are wonderful, but others are not.” You swallow hard. “ What did the bad humans do?”

A brief moment of noiseless drifts between you two.

Zacora says very carefully and meticulously, “There have been broken hearts and bitter wars, ponies have become hunted victims, and insatiable whores,
Kingdoms have crumbled, and defenses were braced,” she pauses.
“But multiple times, this all has been erased.
And destruction had become undone,
Everything was the same, except for one.
A creature was missing from memory and from existence,
Equestria continued with its relentless persistence.
Some of these creatures I did call friend,
And others I fought against to the bitter end.”

You don’t say anything for a great while, and to Zacora’s credit, she just sits there waiting. Maybe she’s thinking about what consoling words might settle the troubled storm that brews within you. Maybe she is reflecting about the other humans who she had met before. Maybe she was savoring the beauty of the forest. You didn’t know.

“So even your friends got erased from people’s memory?” You ask.

Zacora nods. “Reality has been rewritten many times, I’m afraid,
The dead restored, the land reworked, and peaceful times replayed,
I’ve seen what’s to come in the next few years already,
I’ve lived through it before, so I am steady.”

She holds up an old, worn charm around her neck. The cord had been created from vines or twine, and the actual charm had been carved from what looked to be ivory or bone. Little etchings covered the sides of the circular shape, and a small blue gem sat within the middle of a carved out alcove in the ivory.

“This has taken the draught’s space,
It keeps my memory in its place.”

You ask, “So I can understand why the bad humans had to be forgotten, but what about the good ones?” A sudden sickness festers in your stomach. “You said things ‘always’ go sour?”

She nods.

“But why did they have to be erased?” you ask.

Zacora replies, “I do not know, and I wonder,
What could have been ‘their’ grievous blunder?
But that's not the question we should be asking….” she stops and stares into your eyes.

You finish her thought. “Who cast the spell?”

She smiles and tilts her head.

“Oh, right…” you pause and give a quick mental consideration. “Who is the one doing the ...casting? Wait… that doesn’t rhyme. Asking.... masking, …. Casking…. Basking…”

She places a hoof on your shoulder and smiles. Zacora doesn’t say anything, but her eyes radiate with a certain degree of sympathy.

“Am I destined to be forgotten too?” you ask.

Zacora shrugs. “ I wish I could give you more insight,
Just keep living well, rather than cringe in fright.
Whoever cast the spell, it's unknown to me,
But they altered the world, most powerfully.
Keep an eye open, and your ear keen as well,
Otherwise you might find yourself in Hell.”

Immense terror smacks you across the face, but then Zacora laughs.

“I’m just kidding about the last line,
I’ve been told my humor is quite refined.”

“Yeah,” you say in a flat voice. “Very refined.” Your mouth is quite dry, so you swallow a little to moisten your throat. “Is there anyone I can ask about this?”

Zacora frowned.  “My advice is quite simple, don’t,
Like the answer, you won’t.
To darker places your quandaries will lead,
And your fears are the things you will feed.
Savor the moment, before the storm arrives,
To rush it will endanger many lives.”

“Before the storm arrives?” You wince. “What do you mean? That it is unavoidable?”

Zacora replies, “This and that should never mix,
And yet it has happens through cosmic tricks.
Unseen forces will start to gather and swell,
And soon they shall be apparent as a bell.
You don’t know it, but you are a sign,
A tiding of things far from fine.
And yet the prophecy is not absolute,
That is why the pony folk have not been resolute.
To judge one for the another’s impending sins,
Is how the evil ones will win.”

She paused before getting up to her hooves.

“Each one of you is watched with a careful eye,
Could you be the one to make so many die?
Or are you just here by chance?
Here to savor life’s curious dance?
Trust me, Anon… just laugh and live,
I must cut this short, please forgive.”

Without saying another word, Zacora trots off  in the direction you two had been going. She doesn’t look back, but at least maintains a slow pace long enough for you to catch up.

Your mind is a buzz, and for some reason, you can’t find the words to pierce the air. Humans have been here in Equestria? More than Zacora could count? How have you not known any of this? Was there a means of getting home?

Your stomach gurgles. Whoever casted the spell must have had princess level-

A certain purple alicorn flashes in your mind.

Before you can manifest that thought into a question, you and Zacora come to a small patch of beautiful, blue flowers.

She stares up at you. “Be careful not to touch the petals,
Or in your life these flower mettle.
Fluttershy only needs five of these,
Though, take as many as you please.”

Slowly, you reach down and ease your hand to the flowers. Each one peers up at you with a deceptive splendor, and they are all asking for you to bend down to sniff them. Your forehead starts to sweat a little as you grab one of the flowers by the stem.

With great precision, you manage to pluck about ten of the flowers. As Zacora had mentioned, you only needed to get five, but what if Rarity or some pony else messed up on the mixture. It was better to have a little more than necessary, right?

Thank God you actually brought a bag with you. Casually, you throw the flowers into the bag and then turn back around.

“Thank you, Za-”

You’re standing alone in the grove, and the zebra is nowhere to be seen. However, you do notice a small collection of sticks making an arrow in the grass. The arrow points toward a barely visible path that has been overrun with grass.

“I guess, I’ll go that way,” you say softly to yourself.

As you walk along the path, the conversation between you and the strange pony, er… zebra echoes in your mind. A great chill wiggles inside you.

“Okay… first thing’s first. Step one… get out of this freakin forest,” you say. “Step two… drop off the Poison Joke.” you swallow hard. “Step three… Twilight.”

Coming soon… Chapter 5 - The Audience