//------------------------------// // Strangers in a Strange Land // Story: Violet Edge: Ace Prosecutor: Turnabout Buttons // by Magic Step //------------------------------// The zebra camp outside of Lucktown honestly looked better kept than the town proper. Their wagons were brightly and freshly painted with stylized flowers and birds. In between the wagons were strings of colorful banners- no, on second glance they were just clotheslines, draped with tie-dyed material. Zebras were swarming around a boiling cauldron dipping in cloth to wash; children ran around splashing in soapy puddles. It looked like a communal laundry day. Violet Edge felt a similar twist of not belonging that he felt when he arrived at Lucktown. But this was different. Because all the zebras had bright smiles on their faces. Some children ran up to him chasing a bunny. When they saw the small party of ponies, they stopped cold and backed off. A zebra filly shouted over her shoulder, “Mabhiza!” As one the zebra tribe turned to look at Violet Edge and his motley crew. A few stopped working, but most kept on, as if trying to prove the presence of strangers didn’t really bother them. Violet Edge suddenly worried that strange slang words might be the least of his problems. A strong young zebra stallion handed the scrub brush in his hooves to the mare next to him, then approached the party. “Hello there; I see you’re not from Lucktown.” Violet Edge blinked. He hadn’t expected such perfect grammar. “Oh sorry, do you not speak this language?” The zebra punched Violet Edge in the shoulder and threw his head back in a wild laugh. “Ahaha, I’m messing with you. I was born in this forest; we’ve been here a long time.” “Really?” Violet Edge raised an eyebrow. “Indeed; Wuchenjeri taught us that we must move when we are driven, but no one in Lucktown seems in a hurry to drive us out.” The zebra stuck out his hoof. “I am Vakashinga; what brings you to our home?” Everyzebra was so happy and nice looking and Violet Edge didn’t know how to ask the pertinent question. “Do you guys, like, make voodoo dolls here?” Adorabelle piped up. That solved it. Vakashinga’s expression was blank. “Voo.. do? Sorry?” Violet Edge gritted his teeth. “They’re… um… a work of black, uh, zebra magic that we’re trying to trace the… source… of…” Vakashinga’s countenance darkened. “I don’t know what you expected to find here, but we have nothing to do with black magic. Our tribe’s been through enough; find another zebra herd to harass.” “It’s not like that!” Maybe Violet Edge could salvage this. “It’s just that we know for sure the dolls came from Lucktown and no one in the town is willing to talk to us…!” Vakashinga was still glaring. “I have no idea what dolls you’re talking about.” He slowly breathed in and out, then forced a smile onto his face. “But try Nhoroondo; she’s the lore-keeper. If there’s some… distant dark legend buried deep in our past before any of us were even a twinkle in the gods’ eyes…Nhoroondo would know it. She’s in the wagon with bulbadews on it.” “Thank you for understanding.” Violet Edge bowed. “Don’t mention it.” Vakashinga turned back to the mare he’d been with before. The four ponies made their way to the indicated wagon; Violet Edge tried to ignore the angry stares. “That was... unfortunate,” Lyra commented. “I’m sorreeeee,” Adorabelle whined. Violet Edge sighed. “We had to ask sometime; we’re not here for pleasant reasons.” Violet Edge climbed up on the tree stump by the wagon’s beaded curtain entrance. He knocked on the wood on the wagon side. A choked sort of laugh came from inside. “You silly ponies. Ring the curtain.” Violet Edge studied the beaded curtain, then, feeling like a dope, he randomly waggled some of the strings. The beads clicked together, making pleasing rhythms. “Come in, come in!” the voice they’d heard before said. Violet Edge pushed the curtain aside and stepped up into the wagon. The walls were covered in tiny torches the size of candles, glowing with purple flames; the floor of the wagon was carpeted with dried flowers. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling. The room was clearly only half the size that the wagon was outside; another beaded curtain was on the far wall, probably leading to sleeping quarters. This room looked like a receiving room/kitchen, with clay jars along one wall and an iron pot with contents that appeared to be bubbling, despite not being above a flame Violet Edge could see. There was also a low table on a thick plush rug. A zebra mare with a long mane in a strange fluffy bun was sitting at the table, grinding something in a mortar. She looked up and her mouth formed an O. “I’ve gone to see unicorns, but this is the first time one has come to see me.” She beckoned Violet Edge closer. Violet Edge approached carefully. “And how about diamond dogs?” Gumshoe leapt through the curtain and skittered on the floor, his claws clacking on the slippery wood as he slid next to Violet Edge. The mare’s eyes sparkled. “We wandered in the mountains when I was young, though you are the sweetest smelling of your kind I’ve ever met.” “Thanks…?” Gumshoe tilted his head. Lyra and Adorabelle sat behind Violet Edge. “Quiet the party you have here. What makes such a prestigious group seek out poor old Nhoroondo?” “Vakashinga sent us here.” Violet Edge glanced at Adorabelle, who looked ashamed and did a lip-sealing motion. “My name is Violet Edge; this is Lyra Heartstrings, Adorabelle, and Gumshoe. We are from Canterlot law enforcement. We traced a certain… kind of dolls from this town, Lucktown.” He paused. “Understand, I don’t mean to accuse you or your tribe of anything without evidence, but I’m required to follow every lead I have.” Nhoroondo narrowed her eyes. “Go on.” “Have you… ever heard of voodoo dolls?” Nhoroondo rocked back on her haunches and stared at the ceiling. “Can you explain the purpose of these dolls?” Violet Edge nodded. “They’re works of black magic that are made to resemble a particular pony, and when harm is done to the doll… harm is done to the pony” “Ah, those.” Nhoroondo closed her eyes. “Long ago, when our tribe broke off from our warlike parent tribe to follow the peaceful ways of Wuchenjeri, we wandered through the Zebrica plains. There is a story told of another zebra tribe we met and narrowly escaped from, a tribe lead by a monster who kept his subjects prisoners with demonic dolls. That was the Voodoo tribe; we observed there would be no peace for us if we stayed in their territory and made our escape.” “How long ago was this?” Violet Edge asked. “My great-great-great grandfather was just a colt.” Nhoroondo smirked. “We have lorekeepers for a reason, so our tribe will have long memories, and so we never walk the same dangerous road twice.” “...oh… like, obviously not related to the crime today…” Adorabelle said. Violet Edge studied Nhoroondo’s face. She could easily be lying to protect the tribe. If only he could be certain… ...if only he had somepony who could tell him… But you threw that away, didn’t you? Violet Edge shook his head. “You didn’t… keep anything about how to make the dolls, right?” “No good could come of that!” Nhoroondo shuddered. “Did any of your tribe learn how to make dolls at the time, though?” Violet Edge pressed. Nhoroondo sighed. “...The herd moves as one and is remembered as one; I only know where we travelled, not what actions individuals took. But I will say, if anyzebra did learn and remember the method of making voodoo dolls, they never used that information.” Violet Edge’s shoulders slumped. “Well… thank you very much for your time.” Lyra pushed forward. “Do you remember another unicorn that visited almost a year ago? A mint green one like me?” Nhoroondo shook her head. “I would certainly keep record of something like that.” Lyra’s eyes started misting. “I've... been praying for any way to find my brother again, and... you’re just the kind of pony- of zebra he would have liked. He could listen to stories about history for hours, and his eyes would shine with wonder…” Nhoroondo set her pestle gently on the table and stood up. She came over to Lyra and gently placed a hoof on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I could not help you more.” “Maybe…” Lyra sniffled and forced a smile. “No one in Lucktown is willing to talk to us… would they talk to you?” Nhoroondo rolled her eyes. “Any exchange of culture is repulsive to them. They come in secretive groups to consult Poresa, the tribe’s healer- nothing more.” She paused. “That’s not strictly true. There… there was one. My former apprentice, Nyaya… she caught the eye of a stallion from Lucktown.” “Where is Nyaya?” Lyra asked. Nhoroondo’s smile was bitter. “Her spirit is forever at the party of the gods.” Lyra lowered her ears. “I… I’m sorry.” Nhoroondo waved her hoof dismissively. “We miss her, but we do not mourn; she had time to drink the Tea of Virtues, so she is in a happy place.” “She had what now?” Adorabelle asked. “What about her lover?” Violet Edge asked, cutting Adorabelle off. He didn’t want to waste time learning about religion. Nhoroondo’s expression grew steely. “He… tried to follow Nyaya. It’s… not my place to speculate if he made it or not, but the villagers… blame us… collectively.” “This place is miserable,” Adorabelle muttered. “Adorabelle!” Violet Edge snapped. “But it is!” Adorabelle wailed. “Everypony is mean and spiteful or starving and being kidnapped and dying and how can ponies live like this right next to Canterlot where everything’s so pretty and smart?” “You don’t get out of your gated community much do you?” Gumshoe asked. “You know what I meeeeean,” Adorabelle sniffled. Nhoroondo watched Adorabelle thoughtfully. “I do not know how much of a rush you are in… but I would like to invite you to our midday meal, if you’re willing.” Violet Edge shook his head. “We couldn’t impose…” “...could we?” Lyra asked Violet Edge. She sounded weary. The investigation was wearing down the two mares; Violet Edge supposed they could spare some time. Personally he was uncomfortable accepting charity, but Nhoroondo seemed genuine in her offer. Violet Edge nodded. “Fine then.” He swept a bow. “We would be honored to accept.” Nhoroondo chuckled. “Very well Violet Edge; I will introduce you to the others.” *** While some of the zebras were wary about the small party of ponies, Nhoroondo’s acceptance of them clearly carried a lot of weight. The tribe was all around more welcoming than Violet Edge had expected them to be, happy to smile and introduce themselves. Lunch was communal moss soup made in another cauldron that bubbled without flames. A smiling stallion ladled out servings first to all the children, then to the guests, then the tribe’s adults. Then everyone brought their meals to sit around colorful blankets spread on the grass. There was no silverware and everyone drank straight from their bowls. Gumshoe didn’t hesitate before lapping up his share, but the prim and proper Canterlot unicorns looked at each other for a while. All the other zebras were bending down to their bowls on the ground and gulping, so using telekinesis to lift the bowls to their mouths, which felt more natural, would be conspicuous. Violet Edge decided that being a gentlepony meant taking the same actions regardless of the situation and used telekinesis anyway; the mares copied the zebras at first, but Lyra switched back to taking sips. Or pretending to, anyway. The soup tasted like spicy dirt. Violet Edge swallowed his mouthful as fast as he could only for his stomach to protest at being used in such a cruel manner. “Well?” the zebra mare sitting across from Violet Edge asked, a mischevious grin on her face. “V-very… flavorful.” Violet Edge forced a smile. “It’s a little… strong,” Lyra said. “Yeah, isn’t it great!?” Gumshoe glanced up, the fur around his mouth turning a matted green. “Mmmm, I love it,” Adorabelle cooed. Some of the adults chuckled. “Just wait for the apprentices to bring the chingwa around,” the first mare to laugh at Violet Edge said with a wink. “It’s good for those with weak stomachs.” Violet Edge must have unconsciously given her a cold look, because her next laugh sounded nervous. A few minutes into the meal a dozen teenage zebras paraded out of one of the carts, balancing trays on their heads. The trays seemed to stay in place without them making any apparent effort to hold their heads level. One went to each blanket and knelt in the center to let the dining ponies to reach. On each tray was a warm brown loaf of dense, earthy-smelling bread. At each blanket every zebra turned to look at one of the oldest zebras in their group. At Violet Edge’s blanket it was Nhoroondo. Nhoroondo and the other older zebras stood up and swished their hooves over the loaves, and they fell into neatly cut slices. Adorabelle gasped and clapped her hooves. “It’s like a magic trick!” “It is magic,” Nhoroondo said with a smile as she sat back down. Violet Edge had once gotten a book on zebra magic from the Gifted Unicorn Academy library but ultimately found it too confusing; nopony had ever made a thorough study of zebras from a unicorn’s perspective on magic, and zebras didn’t know how to explain their own magic in terms that meant anything to ponies. The oversimplified version he came away with was that while unicorns worked spectacular effects but then were tired out, zebras could do little, menial things without limit. Violet Edge waited until all the zebras took a slice of bread, then levitated a slice of bread to his mouth and took a small bite. It also tasted like dirt. At least this dirt wasn’t spicy. The texture felt oddly spongy. “If you don’t mind me asking…” Violet Edge said. “Go on,” the mare who kept talking to Violet Edge said. “...You don’t have familiar ingredients that grow here, right? How does this compare to what you usually eat?” The mare chuckled. “Chingwa is whatever makes a suitable dough, water, and a little cooking magic.” “Wow, no yeast?” Adorabelle took a huge bite of bread. “That’s what we were practicing today,” the apprentice holding the plate of bread said. “You guys are so cool~” Adorabelle finished the rest of her bread in two bites. Lyra and Violet Edge exchanged sheepish looks. Though they didn’t know each other as well as they each new Adorabelle, the look was all they needed to express understanding… that Adorabelle had no idea how condescending she was sounding, and nothing good would come of pointing it out. “What grain do you have… here?” Violet Edge asked. “Before we could buy potatoes from Lucktown in exchange for charms,” the mare said. “Now they will not talk to us, so we’ve been using swamp grass.” Violet Edge tried to keep from throwing up. The zebra mare tittered at him again. Violet Edge was done being the center of attention and settled into passively listening while he attempted to eat a polite quantity of food. The swampy bread did help the pain from the spice; so did the fruity milk drink the apprentices brought at the end of the meal (with a note of explanation that turning water to milk was also part of their training). Adorabelle of course continued chatting obliviously about anything that caught her eye, from clothing to the construction of wagons. When the apprentices were done serving food a number of the teenage males showed off their parlor tricks for her while she clapped in glee. Lyra and Nhoroondo talked about Tree Trace. Violet Edge wished she’d stop hurting herself. “Can I finish that for you?” Gumshoe poked at Violet Edge’s bowl. Violet Edge sighed. Well, he did hate wasting food. “Sure.” Gumshoe slurped the bowl clean while Violet Edge tried not to notice. The other zebras were having conversations sliding between Equish and their native zebra tongue. They seemed relatively comfortable having outsiders in their midst now. When the time seemed right, Violet Edge cut into the conversation Lyra and Nhoroondo were having. “Would it be improper for us to say goodbye now?” Nhoroondo shrugged. “We will be having our midday rest soon, so it’s probably for the best. Good luck on your journey, and I’m truly sorry I could not help you.” Violet Edge stood to leave, but as he looked at the tribe sitting together, something occurred to him and he turned back. “According to some of the Lucktowners who would talk to us, there’ve been several young stallions disappearing in the town, not just Tree Trace. Has anyzebra ever gone missing from your tribe?” Nhoroondo shook her head, then stopped, and her eyes widened. “Kusuwa…” Violet Edge’s ears swiveled forward. “That’s a member of your tribe?” Nhorooodo nodded. “I think… you should talk to him. He is in Poresa’s wagon; I will give you his midday meal. Tell them I sent you.” Violet Edge bowed his head. “Thank you very much.”