//------------------------------// // Focus // Story: Focus // by Spirit_Seeker_86 //------------------------------// Zecora opened the door with a sigh of relief, grateful to be back home. While she now enjoyed her trips to the market in Ponyville, and indeed was considered a welcome customer, it couldn’t compare to how she felt when she returned to her woodland refuge. She paused on the threshold, however, when she noticed how dark it was within; she glanced around and saw that someone had covered her windows with dark cloth, blocking out the beautiful summer sunlight that she so greatly enjoyed. Looking around, she took a step inside before she froze, as a soft, hesitant voice pierced the shadows. “Please, close the door.” Cautiously, Zecora complied, though not before placing her bags out of harm’s way. Staying by the door, in case escape proved necessary, she spoke, “Who has invaded my room, and filled my home with dark gloom?” “It’s me. It’s…” The voice paused, then sighed. “It’s Twilight Sparkle.” Zecora had to stop herself from squinting harder at the darkest corners of her home. “Twilight, my friend, why so shy? And where’s your humor, swift and dry?” At first, the only reply was a deep, heavy sigh. Then, slowly, a cloaked form emerged from the shadows. All that was visible was the tip of a nose and a mouth, the figure was so thoroughly concealed. “Hello, Zecora,” Twilight said, the hesitancy more prominent in her voice. “Dear friend, why do you hide from me? What am I not meant to see?” Zecora wanted to embrace her friend, the first of her friends in Ponyville, but sensed it would be precisely the wrong thing to do; instead, she remained where she stood, opting to coax an explanation out of Twilight. “I… you know about my work.” It wasn’t, nor did it need to be, a question; Zecora was one of the small group who knew about, and on occasion assisted with, Twilight’s covert labors for Equestria. “I was working on improving my range of disguise and camouflage spells.” Zecora had to suppress a chuckle. It was well-known that Twilight believed the solution to any problem could be found with the proper application of magic, and her friends always teased her about it, albeit in a more positive and less malicious manner. Clearing her throat to cover the near-laugh, Zecora replied, “With success, then, did you meet? Or did you accomplish a different feat?” The cloaked figure began to pace back and forth. “I found a spell of transformation in one of the tomes we recovered from the old castle; it claimed to be capable of turning the subject into whatever the caster desired, so long as the caster’s focus and desire were sufficiently strong. There were obvious limitations, like animate matter can’t become inanimate, or vice-versa, which was good to know when I started testing it on rocks, but that doesn’t… DON’T TOUCH THAT!” Zecora froze, her hoof reaching out for the nearest window. Heaving a sigh of frustration, she stomped down with that hoof. “Hiding from me in shadows isn’t right! Why are you ashamed to be seen, Twilight?” Now Zecora began to pace. “Have you forgotten the time when you thought your ailment was a fault of mine? Or when Spike was being consumed with greed, was I not there in your hour of need? And when your rival thought herself the best, did I not help you pass that test?” Her voice had begun to rise, her irritation plain. “But… the spell, it did what it claimed… but… I don’t…” Zecora stopped pacing, her voice now calm. “You have more than earned my respect, and I know you have great intellect. But when it comes to matters of the heart, you are unsure of where to start.” A startled squeak was the only reply she got. “Our friendship and trust, nothing can erase. So please, Twilight, let me see your face.” With that, Zecora removed the cloth that obscured her window, flooding part of the room with afternoon sunlight. Twilight flinched away, retreating further into the remaining darkness, while Zecora remained by the window, determined to discover the truth that Twilight seemed so desperate to avoid. Several minutes went by in silence. Taking several deep breaths, Twilight reached up with a hoof to undo the clasp before grabbing the cloak with her mouth and, in one surprisingly effective move, tossed the garment aside. Tense from head to hoof, she stepped into the light, keeping her eyes tightly shut. In the course of the journey that had led to Ponyville and the Everfree Forest, as well as some of the greatest friends, Zecora had seen many strange and exotic things. Yet now, before her, was a sight that had, perhaps, only ever existed in dreams. Twilight Sparkle was obviously still herself, and yet drastically different. Her mane was shorter, more rigid, and her tail was also different, though both retained their usual coloration; her body overall seemed a little slimmer. But the biggest difference was patently obvious, and all over her body. Stripes. Narrow bands, the deep color of her mane, adorned her lavender body, an entrancing pattern uniquely hers, even more so than the stripes of a natural zebra. Zecora was surprised to note that Twilight’s horn and cutie mark were unaltered, though in no way did they detract from how wondrous she looked. Zecora realized two important things in the same moment: she’d been staring, and her jaw was hanging open. Thankfully, she remedied both issues just before Twilight nervously opened her eyes. It was plain to see that she was afraid, though the reason remained obscure. Zecora cleared her throat, aware of a slight warmth in her face. “An impressive spell, it must have been, but why choose to look like my kin?” She hoped the slight tremble in her voice wasn’t too obvious. Twilight rubbed her forelegs together in embarrassment. “Well, ever since I really got to know you, I’ve had a growing respect for you. You’re smart, wise, brave…” she stopped herself just in time, resuming on a different path. “Plus there was that wonderful visit to your tribe. You know,” she continued, her fear temporarily replaced by irritation, “you could have told me before we got there that rhyming speech patterns aren’t traditional in zebra culture!” Zecora could not restrain her laughter, and soon Twilight was joining in the mirth; it had been an amusing encounter, though at the time Twilight had been mortified at her perceived faux-pax. “Twilight, you were so cute while trying to rhyme, I couldn’t stop you at the time.” “Thanks, but it was really… wait, cute?” “And if I understand the purpose of this spell, you must think the same of me as well.” Zecora’s smile shifted, just a little, and Twilight felt her cheeks warm as the zebra’s words sunk in. “Well, like I said, I respect you a lot, and…” Twilight rubbed her head with a hoof before continuing, “I’m sorry, this really isn’t my area of expertise.” Zecora trotted over and rested a hoof on the nervous mare’s shoulder. Neither noticed the other’s slight trembling. “My dear adorable friend, let us make a deal: help me prepare some food, then we can discuss how we feel.” Twilight couldn’t stop a goofy grin from forming. “I’d like that very much.” As Twilight went to uncover the remaining windows and Zecora moved to put her shopping away, she said, almost as an afterthought, “You should think about keeping the stripes, they’re beautiful.” Twilight’s eyes widened, and one began to twitch. “You mean you don’t have to rhyme, either?!”