//------------------------------// // II - Winds of Zebrica // Story: Zebrabwe's Secret // by GMBlackjack //------------------------------// The South Luna Ocean was just as blue as any other ocean. Travelers who spent their lives traveling the seas might be able to tell the difference between them simply by tasting the water, but to most, there was no distinction from one ocean to the other. Once you were far enough away from land, it was just… blue. Endless blue in every direction. Rather drab and uninteresting when compared to the varied patterns offered by land. A single pale red airship drifted over these waters, seemingly motionless against the featureless ocean waves. Rest assured, it was moving along at a brisk pace, but the only indication of this was the wind brushing against the ship’s pointed front. Numerous fins sprouted off the main dirigible in crescent-like arcs, ironically giving the ship the appearance of a stylized sun from the front. The cabin hung from the massive ovoid, small, even for a ship of this size. Then again, it didn’t need to be very big, for it currently had only three passengers.  Zecora the zebra sat in one of the six chairs behind the captain’s console, gaze directed through a window at the water below. Her face was tense, but level. She was thinking deeply about something none of the other passengers would have been able to figure out.  Not that they were trying. “Aight, I got us on the course ya set,” the captain said, stepping back from the airship’s wheel. She was a yellow earth pony with a short red mane. “Don’t need t’ mess with it ‘till we see some land. I’m trustin’ ya that it exists.”  “Rest assured, we will find our land,” Zecora said. “Though you might be disappointed by all the sand.” “As long as it don’t mess with my girl’s engine, we’re good with as much sand as ya can fit on my wrench.” “Do you not have many wrenches within your ship’s trenches?” “Yah. Wouldn’t be Torque Wrench without ‘em.” “It always amazes me how pony names come to be. Such truthful words before you’ve even grown into your herds.” “And ya rhyme every sentence like a mad poet,” Torque retorted. “I think we’re even.” “Thank you again for taking me on this voyage at the start, I was beginning to think home and myself would remain far apart.”  “I ain’t never seen another zebra, must be real far away.” “You ‘ave never seen anozer zebra?” the third and final passenger gasped - a griffon who, somehow, was growing a mustache out of his beak. “You do not know what you miss!” “Well I’m talkin’ to one now, ain’t I?” “No, you are talking to a griffon.” Torque narrowed her eyes. “...Why are ya here again?” “I am GUSTAVE le GRAND!” “...Am I supposed to know who that is?” Zecora shrugged. “Know I do not, but my mind is so full, its memory can rot.” Gustave puffed up his chest. “I am ze great griffon chef! My delicate talons create only ze best pastries! Such as my legendary Eagle Eclairs!” “Eagle Eclair…” Torque tapped the ground with her hoof. “Hey! Ya were that bird sellin’ me that cookie that exploded in my face!” “T’was not a cookie!” “Oh, right, it exploded in my face, cookies don’t do that!”  Zecora held up a hoof. “Please, this will be a long flight, engaging in a fight will only worsen our plight.”  Torque rolled her eyes. “I can always throw him out. He can fly, he’ll be fine.” Gustave’s eyes widened. “Oh no no no no no! I ‘ave not engaged in ze wing exercises for… years. I would drown!” “Yipee,” Torque deadpanned.  “The world would never recover from the loss of my confectionary genius!” “I’m goin’ out on a limb here and sayin’ ya ain’t world-famous.” “I… am going through a rough patch.” Gustave tapped his claws on the ground. “I seek ze legendary cooking skills of the Zebras to invigorate my own!” Zecora nodded. “Our delicacies are highly intricate, I’m sure our ways would be a good fit. Our inner spark drives our potions through our stomach’s motions. Food of many kinds light up our lives, with our magic we make the best with our knives.” “...So what you’re saying is I need to learn zebra magic?” Zecora facehooved. “Such a feat is impossible, but luckily the information is transposable. What we learn from cooking with magic can keep you from making food tragic. We can start now, if you wish, for I am no stranger to that kind of dish.” “What? A traveling zebra, master of cooking!?” “I learned before I began wandering. Now come with me, we must begin making our pud-” “Aw, Celestia, no!” Torque shouted. “Ya ain’t startin’ a cauldron in my girl’s cabin!” Zecora stared at her. “We’ll go with something simple to start. The humble sandwich is an easy art.” “Oh.” Torque tapped the ground. “...That’s fine.” “Sandwiches are peasant food!” Gustave hissed. Zecora smirked. “If you can’t prepare the simplest food well, then failure is where you are doomed to dwell.” Gustave gulped. “Sandwich. Sandwich is a good place to start.” “Make me some, will ya?” Torque asked. “I’m right starved.” “There will be enough for all, for the sandwich I make will be quite tall.” “...Now I’m really interested…” The airship continued onward into the light of the rising sun as its passengers learned the art of Zebrican sandwiches.