//------------------------------// // Zecora Earns Her Stripes // Story: Zecoroota // by Kodiologist //------------------------------// Becora was out in front of her cottage, grazing with her eyes closed and looking about as content as her choleric personality allowed. She was multitasking. Satisfying her hunger while also trimming the grass around the property. Efficient. Pleasingly efficient. Eyes still closed (she had memorized the layout of the lawn already), Becora raised her head and trotted towards the south wall to work on the dandelion leaves sprouting from the foundation. A baker's dozen steps in a straight line. That was the amount she had already calculated would take her from the ending point of the patch she'd just finished to the starting point of the home's perimeter. Head bobbing blissfully, Becora counted ten, then eleven, then twelve soft thumps of zebra hooves hitting the forest floor before she halted on the thirteenth step and dropped her muzzle to ground level. Her teeth closed around an unseen dandelion leaf and her lip curled up in a self-congratulating smile. That smile faltered however, when a fourteenth thump reached her swiveling black ears. It was followed by a fifteenth, sixteenth, and so on. Becora stood stalled in quiet confusion as the sound of her own hoofsteps continued before she concluded there was only one other zebra in Equestria whose canter was identical to her own. Was calling Wecora an "other zebra" too generous? There was a question the black half's empirically-inclined reasoning couldn't parse. "Pleased to say my sayings pleased," said Wecora, "and through my interview I breezed." Becora gave a curt nod of approval. "Apple Bloom is taught," she said by way of reporting her own successes. Wecora looked at the trimmed grass, obviously straining to say something friendly. "Laudable work done on our lawn. The brackish clutter's nearly gone." "Yes." When the two of them had split earlier in the day, neither had managed to say much to one another, instead committing to the princess and the farmhand who'd come to the cottage for help. Now at the end of the day, the existential awkwardness of one pony being bisected into two consciousnesses had finally caught up to the homunculi. Wecora was very blatantly trying to sidestep it by addressing her other half as one would a sibling or old friend. Becora, of course, wasn't the part of their personality that was interested in dancing around the guardian-goyle in the room. "I tidied our house of potion detritus," the black half continued. "Including the Dissociation Draught. There's enough room for us to speak inside." Without waiting for Wecora to assent to the invitation, she pushed open the cottage door and pranced briskly through. Wecora dutifully followed, her pale eyebrows having climbed nearly to her hairline in surprise. "I had harbored expectations after both of our vocations had successfully completed, we would each be obsoleted." "Define 'obsoleted'," Becora's voice came from inside. "Though strange to think, I thought perhaps the space between us would collapse. And if it didn't, then for sure you'd be here working on a cure." Wecora made it inside to see her other half had indeed put away everything their unified self had pulled out that morning. That had been half a day and two separate lifetimes ago. There was no sense of urgency in the house anymore. No unspoken demand that the cauldron be fired up and an antidote for the Dissociation Draught be brewed. In fact, the only drinks Becora had bothered preparing were two modest cups of water waiting on the weathered antique dining room table. "Hospitality," came Becora's invitation as she claimed one of the cups and took a swig. Wecora graciously accepted the remaining drink and sipped savoringly. Speech dehydrated a zebra, and she'd spoken so very much today. "If you cannot define 'obsolete"," Becora reasoned, "you must not feel that you are. Don't argue. I feel the same way." The black half was regarding her drink, not meeting her other's eye. "It is more efficient to be two instead of one. We were beside ourself this morning due to being unable to be everywhere at once. I think that accidental consumption of the Dissociation Draught was… a blessing." A wetness was brimming in Becora's eyes. "This has been a lonely cottage for many years. Never any stallion sharing the nights, nor foals calling for nurture during the day. Just work." Wecora nodded mutely as a ghost of a memory flared: Stepping on a boat departing from Zebrica, waving goodbye to a tribe proud to see one of their own seeking fortune abroad, and lying in bed decades later, wondering how hermitry had become her lot. Shamans back in Zebrica certainly spent their days toiling over their concoctions with no time for family, but at least they had members of the tribe for companionship. Alone in this foreign land, Zecora had no company outside of her clients. And as much as she valued the likes of Twilight Sparkle and Apple Bloom, they weren't kin. They weren't outsiders. For Zecora to find another like herself and have the free time to play hostess… those were hurdles her old knees didn't have the pep to clear anymore. But now, as two partial ponies clinked cups at the end of a very productive day, Wecora sensed a spirit of amiability warming the shared cottage's old walls. "It seems that it has been decided: Together we shall stay divided." Wecora smiled bravely at her declaration and Becora gave a grunt of agreement. Cups clinked again and white half (or rather, the white zebra as she supposed she should begin calling herself now) looked blissfully around the room before taking note of the small sleeping quarters in the corner. "Uncertain certainties need said: Which one of us will get the bed?" Becora tossed a dismissive look at the blankets, then pushed back from the table. "Let's sleep standing," she suggested. "Outside." Wecora nodded and followed. Another ghostly memory surfaced. Back in Zebrica, all tribesmares slept standing shoulder to shoulder on the plains, safe and warm together. Living alone in Equestria, Zecora had of course adopted the local custom of solitary bedrest, with all the sheets, pillows and blankets it entailed. And while that method certainly had its merits in a colder climate like this one, now was a chance for her to nuzzle and be nuzzled under the stars by another zebra who understood the gravity of the ritual. It had been a long time since Zecora had slept communally. A very long time. Anypony passing the Everfree that night would've certainly turned and ran at the striking, omen-like figures in front of the cottage near the outskirts: Two mohawked equines, one so dark she nearly disappeared in the gloom and the other so pale she practically glowed in the starlight, stood deathly still beside each other till morning, heads on one another's shoulders, twin tails tenderly interlaced in an alternating black and white pattern that was almost mistakable for a zebra's stripes. Wecora woke up when the morning newspaper hit her in the face, and her ensuing whinny of surprise roused Becora too. "My bad," Derpy's call came from somewhere above, but neither of the half-zebras paid her any mind. They were more occupied with the discovery that it had rained last night, drenching and chilling them both down to their middle-aged bones. "Ins-s-s-side!" Becora spat through chattering teeth. "N-now!" She staggered numbly in the direction of the cottage door. Wecora followed, stopping only to retrieve the damp newspaper lying in the grass. By the time she hobbled in, Becora had shoved the empty cauldron off its burner and was cursing miserably in Zebrican as she rapped her flint-tipped hooves together trying to get a fire-starting spark. Shivers were hindering her success, though. Unable to wait for warmth, Wecora pulled a duvet off the unused bed and wrapped her soaking shoulders with it. "Tinder," Becora demanded, pointing at the newspaper still in the other's teeth. Wecora nodded and leaned forward to present the paper. But as her eyes passed over a headline, she dropped it and froze. Becora looked back. "What's the matter?" "The flames I sought to help defuse burn all the hotter in the news." "What?" said Becora. "We're trying to start a fire." She dropped the flint and steel and came over to take a look. There on the front page was a picture of Wecora, her brow furrowed, a faint smile of knowing wisdom on her lips, as Canterlot burned furiously in the background. The headline read "SCHOOL BLAZE: Twilight Defers Questions to Dismissive New Press Liaison". Confusion reigned in Canterlot today as the monarch zipped away the moment she stepped off the 2:00 train from Ponyville, telling your reporter to direct all questions on the ongoing School for Gifted Unicorns incident to her new press agent, Zecora. Zecora, a hermit of the Everfree Forest known locally as an 'evil enchantress' and believed to have played a central role in the Ponyville plunderseeds disaster, proved uninterested in explaining what exactly was happening at the School and unserious in general, replying to straightforward queries with cryptic riddles and poems.… "Who does she think she is, trying to show off at a time like this?" remarked local stage magician Trixie Lulamoon… "What did you do?" said Becora, goggling. "I did my best." said Wecora, pulling the comforter more tightly around herself. "As for the rest… you see the libel printed here. Like ponies past, he cries in fear." "Yes, the 'enchantress' stuff, etc. But are these quotes accurate?" Becora pointed at a couplet with an accusing hoof. "I spoke the words: I told the truth. Do you suppose they sound uncouth? He may've wanted answers fast, but many hasty spells were cast." Wecora stared hard at her other half. "To understand, one contemplates. Slow learning preps us for our fates." "You… pompous, pedantic blowhard!" Becora sputtered. "All you had to do was give the reporter straight answers, but you were too busy sounding clever. If you want to help ponies, you need to be concise, direct, and—" "Uh… Zecora? Zecoras?" A poncho-clad Apple Bloom was poking her head through the door, which neither homunculus had thought to close. "Am I interruptin' again?" "Never mind that." said Becora. "Come in. I was just making a fire." Apple Bloom closed the door. Her bow popped out as she flipped off her hood. "I'm in big trouble. We just took a math quiz this morning." "Trouble?" said Becora. "I bombed it! And Miss Cheerilee talked to me and, and wanted to know how come I did so much better on my homework, and I told her about how you helped me and… and she said what you did wasn't really helping." Becora was aghast. "But we…" "And how could you say what you did to Big McIntosh?" said Apple Bloom with sudden anger. "Now he's all mopin' around ashamed of himself and avoidin' me. I just wanted him to share! I didn't ask you to say those things!" "The wise advisor speaks with tact." said Wecora to Becora, with a raised hoof. "She knows how others will react. She doesn't force her own belief, but gently guides towards relief." Becora started to say something defensive, but was interrupted by the door being tossed open again. In came Twilight Sparkle. She dispelled a magical umbrella and was quite dry, but the Zecoroota could see a few patches of her burnt fur hastily covered by cosmetic spells. The Princess's eyes were also tired. Very, very tired. "Hello, everypony. You've seen the paper by now, huh?" She looked around, at Wecora clutching the duvet, at Becora standing tensely near an unlit fireplace, and at Apple Bloom looking small and dejected, her poncho still dripping. "Where did you two… you know what, never mind. Not my business. Listen, white Zecora, things… didn't work out so well yesterday. I'm sorry. The press is still eating me alive, and my guess is they didn't let you off the hook, either. So… I swung by the Ponyville Schoolhouse to ask Apple Bloom how things went on her end. Cheerilee said she excused herself for the rest of the day to come over here." Twilight blew out heavily, rubbing her temple. "And now all of us are back where everything started." The zebras glanced at each other, at Twilight, and then back at each other. "Apple Bloom," Twilight went on, "how was your math lesson with the other Zecora yesterday?" Apple Bloom looked down and scuffed a hoof on the floor. "I didn't learn it too good, I think. And… Zecora was kinda mean to Big Mac." "I guessed as much," Twilight sighed. "Can I show you all something?" Nopony spoke as Twilight levitated the newspaper. Curiously, she didn't even glance at the unflattering cover story with Wecora's dopey grinning picture. Instead, she flipped to the second page, showing a dejected purple earth pony lying on her back. She had a propeller beanie on her head and a rope around her legs. "Do any of you recognize this pony? Her name is Screwball. Applejack lassoed her yesterday right after I arrived on the scene. Turns out, she's the culprit behind all the disasters in Canterlot the past few days." "But why?" Apple Bloom piped up. "I was getting to that. She's one of Discord's old conjurings that got away from him. A homunculus, you could say." Apple Bloom tilted her head in clueless confusion. The zebras shifted uncomfortably. "I talked to Screwball after we brought her in. Apparently she was trying to be like her 'dad,' by making mischief and pulling what she thought were clever pranks. But the thing is, being an artificial pony, she's not all there in the head. She was too naive" (Wecora nodded empathically) "and tactless" (Becora's jaw visibly clenched) "to understand just how botched her attempts at clowning were. I want to reiterate: She was trying her best, but just didn't have the chops to function on her own, or even notice she was messing up until someone pointed it out to her. I hope it's clear why I came back to check on the two of… on the two halves of you, Zecora." Wecora had practically disappeared under her duvet, while Becora at last sat down, her confidence utterly cratered. "Until somepony pointed it out to her," the black half scoffed miserably. "Much too thick and much too spacey." said Wecora. "Much too much to see that we're crazy." "Aw, ya don't think that's being just a tad too harsh on yourself?" Apple Bloom patted the pile of blankets sympathetically. "Nopony got hurt or anythin', right?" "Nopony was helped either," Becora answered firmly. "A fully realized Zecora would've resolved all of yesterday's issues with flying colors." She shook her head. "Twilight, what did you end up doing with Screwball?" "Nothing yet. We're trying to get ahold of Discord so he can take her back to his pocket dimension. That's her home, after all. She needs to go back to where she belongs." Becora nodded in resolute agreement, then placed a forehoof on top of the blanket bundle housing her other half. With a brilliant green glow and a muted boom, the potion's spell inverted itself so that on the floor of the hut, panting, her eyelids fluttering open as if awakening from sleep, was Zecora, restriped. "What happened?" said Apple Bloom. Zecora laughed heartily. "I drank a potion meant to bring understanding between a pair. The goal achieved, I'm once again just one mare. White Zecora knew not to interfere too much, but she was too afraid to say enough. Black Zecora was clearer, but easily became too rough. Princess, I was inattentive to the emergency you needed me for. And Apple Bloom, I should have let you solve your own problems more. I'm sorry for my halves' mistakes, and I'll do better, for your sakes." "Oh, Zecora!" said Twilight, embracing her old mentor. "It's all right, and I'm glad you're okay again. I've had so many more crises than this… and it really is our own faults for asking too much of you, anyway." "Yeah," said Apple Bloom, making it a group hug, "after all, there's only one of ya!" That there was, and instead of wasting effort on another couplet, the zebra just held her guests tighter. Once this hug broke, she knew Twilight and Apple Bloom would be on their separate ways, leaving her alone yet again. Right now though, she just wanted to hold onto this moment of companionship. Drink in as much of it as possible before— "So," Apple Bloom finally said. "I'm still clueless 'bout algebra. If I'm welcome to stay, I'd wanna take another try at bein' tutored." Awed that Apple Bloom would give her another chance, Zecora nodded. "Ah, to still have time to spend an afternoon relaxing and teaching math problems," Twilight remarked dreamily. "Color me jealous of you, Zecora." The magically conjured umbrella slowly reappeared over the Princess's head. "I myself have to go check up on Screwball again. I let her sleep in the Castle of Friendship's guest room last night as a gesture of goodwill, but woke up to her standing at the foot of my bed this morning, fast asleep. She's like this half-puppy, half-little foal who gets lonely way too easily." "Lonely little pony pup… wait, she sleeps while standing up?" "Ooh, we learned 'bout that in health class." Apple Bloom reported. "It's s'posed to make night breathin' easier or something." Her face folded into a half-hearted pout. "Oh sure that lecture I can remember, but important stuff like solvin' for x escapes me." "Twilight, if I'm free to ask, is handling Screwball quite a task?" "Eh, like I said, she's eager to please, but could really use someone who'll actually give her some nurturing. I almost feel bad giving her back… to Discord…" Twilight Sparkle trailed off when she realized what Zecora was attempting to ask. "I'll get back to you about this," Twilight promised. "Help Apple Bloom for now. Better to take things one at a time than split our attention, as I think we've all learned by now." "If that's what you decree, Princess. You'd know the most about being stressed." Twilight stuck her tongue out at the old zebra, then pulled her umbrella down in a failed attempt to hide her self-conscious blush. Apple Bloom stifled a giggle as Twilight pulled the door shut behind her, a little too forcefully to have been done by a pony whose feathers weren't thoroughly ruffled. "Get it out now, little one. It's time for work, and not for fun." "I know, I know. Lemme get my notes outta my pack. They're all over the place." She giggled again. "Just like you were yesterday." Zecora rolled her eyes and leaned in to examine Apple Bloom's neatly copied sample problems. The memories of seeing them the day before were clear in her mind. She opened her mouth to begin explaining the concepts from the ground up, but stopped when another memory entered her consciousness: It was one of Twilight earnestly airing all her concerns while Zecora sat in a train seat and listened. There would be no mistakes today. Her wits were fully returned, and Zecora wouldn't waste them. "Right then, tell my open ear exactly what you need made clear."