//------------------------------// // Koan 9: Gift of the Moon // Story: The Sound of One Hoof Clopping // by Trick Question //------------------------------// Zecora was one of very few sapient creatures to call the Everfree Forest home. As a talented survivalist, she had lived off of the land for many years before finally making contact with the ponies of nearby Ponyville. As much as she enjoyed her brief visits to the village, Zecora found great comfort in the solitude provided by her woodland home. The Everfree Forest was a dangerous place to live. Fortunately, Zecora's training as a shaman and herbalist among the other zebras of her tribe had well-prepared her for her new home. Her extensive knowledge of magical wards, potions, and exotic flora and fauna both mundane and magical allowed her to live in harmony with the forest around her. Her charms were so strong that no magical beasts would dare approach her dwelling: an enormous cypress tree she had hollowed out and enchanted to keep it alive and vibrant, even as she lived within it. Around and within her home stood tribal masks and other curios from her native land. These items had cultural significance to Zecora, but were only worth sentimental value. As a mare of modest needs, she had little use for monetary possessions apart for trade for essentials. Though highly skilled in alchemy, she typically chose not to sell her potions. She preferred instead to donate them to those in need, in exchange for a promise of future kindness in turn. Whether the kindness would be offered to her, or to somepony else, it mattered not. The forest was normally safe to wander during the day, if a pony wisely kept to the marked paths. At night, however, it became very dangerous. Even during the daytime, few ponies besides her friends Twilight Sparkle and Apple Bloom would willingly enter the forest unless the need was dire. Zecora was understandably surprised, then, when late one night in the early Spring she heard hoofsteps coming from just outside her door. The soft echo of a few hooffalls outside of Zecora's door roused her from her evening meditation. It sounded as though somepony was very gently tugging on her door handle. No candles were lit in her home, and anypony seeing the tree might well have assumed it abandoned, or its occupants asleep. Zecora opened her eyes and could see quite well in the relative darkness: one of her windows was open, the evening's Moon was pregnant and bright, and she was comfortable with the inky blanket of night here in the wild. She adjusted her seat upon a bamboo matting, keeping one hoof on her staff where it lay beside her, and focused her attention toward the door as it jostled. Her initial concerns faded when she heard the distinct sound of fumbling hooves. This was no monster, but rather a simple somepony without the common courtesy to knock. Still, it was most unusual for anypony with any horse sense in them to wander this deep into the Everfree Forest in the middle of the night. The door creaked slowly open, and in crept a bedraggled-looking pony covered all in rags. He had a stallion's muzzle, but was short and thin of frame. The rags were pulled tight in strips around his body and face, kind of like a makeshift mummy. Bits of furry pelt poking through the rags were smeared with dark ink or paint. The intruder held a candlestick in one hoof, and a knife in his mouth. "Aaah!" he said, startled as the light from the candle reflected off of Zecora’s deep blue eyes shining back through the darkness. The knife landed on the floor. The pony picked it up with his free forehoof, and reared back onto two legs in an aggressive posture. "Welcome to my home, intruder. Don’t you think not knocking’s ruder?" asked Zecora of her unexpected guest, careful as always to maintain her rhyming vow. As she turned her head slightly to the side, her Mohawk-styled striped mane reflected a mix of moonlight and candle-flame. Even in the dim lighting, it was clear she was no pony. The unwelcome figure's legs trembled. He raised the knife, taking a step closer. "Gimme your valuables," he demanded in a whispery voice. Zecora's hoof tensed against her staff in preparation for a fight, but she suddenly felt a twinge of compassion grip her core. The rogue's nerves were obvious, and anypony willing to rob somepony this deep in the forest would have to either be desperate, or completely insane. "The only treasures that I bring, are brass, in shape of metal ring," she said, pointing to the ritualistic brass rings which covered her leg and neck, as well as her earrings. The thief glanced around the open room in which Zecora lived, and saw she appeared to speak the truth. The contents of the room were wooden masks, clay jugs, simple hoof-made furniture, an iron cauldron, and some small stone and glassware for mixing reagents: nothing that could easily be fenced for bits. Even her brass jewelry couldn't be worth that much. "Well... I guess, hoof over the jewelry," ordered the thief. Zecora frowned. It was not a frown of anger or sadness, but one of pity. "This jewelry is not gold. Besides, it's too hard to pull off my hide," she said, illustrating by tugging on the rings, which held fast to her body. She had grown into the jewelry from a young age, and there was no easy way to remove it. "Maybe you just don’t wanna take it off." Zecora's suspicions were confirmed, however, as the figure took a step backwards toward the door. This fellow clearly didn't have the heart to harm her for a little brass, and perhaps he also had the sense to realize the well-built and agile zebra mare would knock him cold if he tried anything. She smiled softly and let down her guard, standing up. "If I could pull them off with ease, I'd gladly let my rings be seized,” she said. "You’ve come too far to leave with aught. You may take anything I've got," she offered, rearing up with her hooves spread wide to indicate the expanse of her home. The burglar paused for a moment in disbelief. He looked around for something, anything of value, and spied Zecora's heavy brown cloak, which he grabbed and wrapped around himself. It couldn’t be worth much of anything, but at least it would provide some warmth. Returning the knife to his mouth, he turned about and cantered off on three legs without so much as a thank-you. Zecora trotted up to her open door and stepped outside into the cool night air, watching the light of the robber's candle disappear into the woods. It was unseasonably cold for Spring, but here in the Everfree, the clouds moved of their own volition and weather was unpredictable. The loss of her cloak was unfortunate, yes, but it was only a material possession after all, and such things could be replaced. Living simply had long ago taught her the fleeting nature of physical things. Looking upward, she saw the beautiful Moon above, and thought of the poor pony who had stolen her cloak simply because she had nothing more of value to offer him. "Beautiful Moon, up high tonight, who bathes the forest in your light. Too bad you're far above my head; I'd offer you to thieves instead," she said to herself with a smile, thinking what a fine present the Moon itself would be for such an unfortunate, wayward soul. Just then, the zebra heard a soft clopping sound come from above, and quickly wheeled about, expecting the thief's accomplice. Instead, she saw a tall and dark horse-shaped figure, wings spread, delicately balanced on a high branch of her tree. It was Princess Luna. Her magical mane and tail flowed and glimmered in the darkness like a galaxy of stars, and against the twinkling backdrop above it was difficult to tell where Luna ended and the night began. "Thou... pardon me, you are the one named Zecora, I understand," spoke the Princess, her voice strong and confident even when she tried to soften it. "You are a strange and generous equine indeed," she continued. "I bore witness to an unusual pony wandering about the woods in the middle of my Night, and so I followed him to this place. Prior to hearing your eloquent poem just now, I was to pray if you should like your cloak returned from the ruffian. Yet, you seem to be at peace with your loss." Zecora nodded, bowing, and smiled. "My Princess; thanks for your concern. But I'll be fine, I do discern," she insisted. Luna nodded her head and looked up to the Moon with a bright smile and misty eyes. "It is truly beautiful, is it not, Zecora? Perhaps the best part of my job is being able to give it up to all of Equestria, each and every evening. Whether a pony be noble or knave, all receive the same gift, if only they choose to look upwards and see it for its beauty. The Moon judges not the hearts of ponies: it is simple and good to all, like water, or fine grass. There is something special in that, I find," she said, her voice growing wistful. "Something noble in that which is good to all creatures, without regard for their virtue or station." Zecora nodded, and stood there admiring the beautiful Moon above with the Princess, in silence. After a couple of minutes, her flanks grew chilly in the night air. She then turned back to face her second guest of the evening, who remained steady on her delicate perch. "It is quite chilly, out, for me. I must retire to bed, you see. I thank you for your lovely Moon, and hope again to see you soon," she said, bowing with a smile. Luna smiled back, hiding a blush beneath the umbra of her cheeks. "Good night to you, Zecora,” she said. However, before Zecora could re-enter her home, Princess Luna turned her horn to the sky and began to cast a spell. As her horn glowed a soft blue in the darkness, thin ribbons of night sky and soft strands of moonlight above her appeared to come alive. Drifting downward to the zebra, the wispy strands of darkness and light twisted and weaved themselves together, gradually forming a dark, shimmering fabric in the shape of a cloak. After a few moments, the ethereal cloth fluttered to the ground at her hooves. The zebra lifted the strange gift to her eyes. It was very warm and soft to the touch, and it sparkled ever-so-slightly as it moved. She looked up to the alicorn princess in order to thank her, but the words, or perhaps the rhymes, would not come to her lips. Princess Luna merely grinned at her dumbstruck friend. "Now you have something nice to offer the next thief who so rudely troubles you," she said with a wink, and quickly launched herself up into the sky with powerful wings before their closing conversation could become awkward.