//------------------------------//
// Chapter 21 - The Shaman 
// Story: The Stereotypical Necromancer 
// by JinxTJL 
//------------------------------//

Light Flow was cautiously optimistic.

Most of the time, he tried not to get too excited about anything. Excitement generally lead to raised expectations, and that usually led to an underwhelming payoff. So instead of imagining an impossible future, he prepared himself for the worst outcome. Your hopes couldn't be let down if they were never up in the first place, after all.

Pessimism may not have been the healthiest mindset, but at least he was always ready for failure.

But this time, he was allowing himself a small trickle of hope.

Okay, maybe more than a trickle.

Okay, maybe he was a little obsessed with the thought.

Ever since he had overheard about the zebra shaman at lunch yesterday, his mind had been running rampant with theories. He wanted to know who the zebra was so badly, he could barely contain himself. He had hardly been able to sleep at all, and his dreams were filled with thoughts of kinship.

What possible reason would a zebra have to move into the Everfree? 

Were they an emissary from Zebrica? An exile? Some sort of traveling immigrant?

He didn't actually know anything about Zebrica or its inhabitants, so he couldn't really make any solid guesses.

Come to think of it, he didn't even really know what a shaman was.

It was just one of those words that everypony knew. It just had certain connotations, a certain meaning that generally related to spooky magic shenanigans.

He was so clueless, he really only could describe it with the word 'shenanigans'.

Regardless of his shrinking vocabulary, he was interested. If there was spooky magic to study, he wanted to know about it.

If there was a spooky magic practitioner, he wanted to meet them.

Which was why he had woken up at dawn and spent over an hour making himself look presentable. Most of the time, he totally neglected his looks. He was completely fine with looking messy and frazzled, because there was a good chance that he was messy and frazzled at any given time.

But first impressions mattered, and that meant brushing his mane.

The bristles cutting through the tangles may have hurt, but social embarrassment would hurt more. Standing in front of his bathroom mirror with a brush in his magic and tears in his eyes was a small price to pay for a clean appearance.

After he had tamed the wild locks of his mane, he set about brushing his coat. That experience was far more pleasant, though it didn't take any less time.

Okay, so maybe he had brushed his coat for longer than was necessary, but so what? It felt nice, and he didn't do it often.

He was usually so busy with studying, he never really found any time to pamper himself. He had never seen any real reason to make himself look nice, since it wasn't like he had anypony to look nice for.

Maybe that would have to change. Looking at his fluffy, well brushed mane in the mirror didn't make him feel as awkward as he usually did. He actually felt sort of... okay?

He had never given any thought to whether he had confidence issues. It had always just been sort of a given that he wasn't attractive or noteworthy, and he tried not to dwell on it. There was no point in making yourself look good if you were just going to hide yourself under a billowing cloak and an uncaring face, after all.

But now he was pretty sure he could recognize he had a problem. Maybe more than one.

Usually, when he looked in a mirror, he saw a villain staring back at him.

But that brown unicorn with the red and brown mane in the mirror didn't look like some villain or a monster. He didn't look like the kind of pony a mother would steer her kids away from, or gossip about to neighborhood watch members.

He didn't look like the kind of pony passersby would cringe at when he went somewhere. He didn't look like a pony who felt out of place, no matter where he was.

It was just him, and he looked nice.

Light Flow felt nice.

He frowned at himself in the mirror, and watched the way his muscles moved as his small smile turned down. Just the little imperceptible shifts in his face that came with any sort of movement.

He shook his head a little to see how his mane would react, and stared as his soft-looking hair swished noiselessly from side to side.

He leaned closer to the mirror to stare unblinkingly at his eyes. The little black pools surrounded by a flawed brown embankment, which itself was surrounded on all sides by a greater sea of pure white nothingness.

He blinked a few times, and watched as his pupils grew and shrunk slightly. Eyes were weird.

He leaned back, away from the doppelganger in the mirror.

He flicked an ear, and watched the small extremity as it folded onto his head. Was that how that looked?

Pony ears were pretty unanimously cute. It was a trait he had noticed while pony watching, and he had been wondering if his ears were as cute as the rest.

His greatest fears had been realized.

He had never really taken any time to look at himself very hard, which, now that he thought about it, was probably a side effect of what he now recognized as a self-confidence issue.

He slowly brought a hoof up to his head, and lightly placed it onto his horn. He ran his hoof over the small ridges, and let out a sigh. He had always been more than a little insecure about the size of his horn. It was just a little shorter than what was apparently the average, and that bothered him.

He was pretty sure there had been studies about how horn length didn't actually relate to anything, but he couldn't help it. However unsubstantiated his doubts may be, they were still there.

But maybe he didn't need to feel so self-conscious? The average-ish sized protrusion on his head actually looked pretty good the way it was. In fact, it was possible it would look worse if it was any longer.

Maybe five inches wasn't so bad.

He let his hoof fall onto the wooden floor, and closed his eyes as he breathed a shuddering sigh.

What was he even doing? Getting distracted was a common occurrence, but his lapse of attention was usually somewhat focused on normal things.

Like souls, and trying to guess how a pony was feeling.

Getting hung up on how he looked was just... asinine. He had real things to worry about.

Like zebras, and cursed forests.

He opened his eyes, and turned away from the mirror. 


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Light Flow was beginning to have second thoughts.

Though, it wasn't because he didn't want to meet the zebra. He was still feeling quite a bit of excitement on that front. No, the problem was more rooted in the question of whether this excursion as a whole was a good idea. Looking back on it, he wasn't sure why he had been so gung-ho on rushing into the forest as soon as possible.

Because, in truth, he had no idea where in Tartarus he was supposed to go.

Getting into the forest was easy, he went there all the time. The dark and foreboding woods were practically an extension of his home, especially since his home was already kind of in the woods.

It wasn't as if the Everfree made any real attempt to stop ponies from wandering in. The real challenge was finding your way around.

It went beyond the usual puzzles of navigating a forest. Sure, it was hard to spot landmarks when the land was marked by a million uniform trees, but there was something else.

It was common to say the Everfree was cursed, but there was reason for it other than scaring foals.

Nopony was really sure what magic was at play, but experts agreed that there was a high concentration of unknown energy saturating the dark woods.

Well, Her Royal Highness might know, but she wasn't telling.

He was sure there had been efforts to study the woods, but he couldn't find any history of excursions. It was likely that all attempts were met with tragedy and failure, but it was still strange that there was no public documentation.

The actual scope of the effects were little more than hearsay, and there was apparently nothing in the way of research, but it was commonly agreed that the woods did something to screw with direction.

It could be as tame as messing with a pony's internal compass, or it could be as huge as actually bending the space within itself. Nopony knew.

Usually, he didn't have a lot of trouble finding his way around; though his excursions were always bereft of any actual destination. Through his aimless wandering, and whatever he had heard as gossip, he had learned that the forest would pretty much just spit travelers out wherever it wanted. 

The only real option for navigation was to keep walking in what seemed to be one direction, and praying to a deity that the forest was 'feeling' nice.

He didn't know why, but he was pretty sure the forest liked him. It had never lead him off a cliff, or into a den of monsters, or anything generally terrible. He would spend his time wandering, and eventually just wind up back where he started.

He also occasionally found his way back to the giant tree where he had spent a few sad nights recovering from his mother's death. He had since moved his reading material to his basement, so there wasn't really any need to return; but sometimes it was nice to reminisce.

Right now though, he couldn't find anything.

He had been wandering around the woods for what was probably at least two hours, and he hadn't seen anything but trees.

Trees. As far as the eye could see. Nothing but an endless sea of grays browns and greens.

He huffed as he was forced to change direction for the seventh time, having to avoid an especially dense group of trees.

Normally, he liked taking walks in the Everfree. The dank atmosphere helped him think, and it nurtured his negativity. Maybe that last thing wasn't as good as it used to be, but it served its purpose.

But right now, he was just annoyed.

He had been so excited about finding somepony else who might understand him, he hadn't given much thought to anything else. As it turned out, it was somewhat hard to find a single zebra in the middle of a huge magical forest.

What if those ponies at lunch yesterday had also said something about where in the forest the zebra lived? Had he tuned out important info?

He grimaced as the unpleasant thought made its way to his mind. He came to a stop as the path branched off in three directions, and internally cursed himself.

Even though directions were useless here, it still would have been nice to have some idea of where he was supposed to go.

All of the paths looked practically identical, so he turned down the right path. Everypony knew the best strategy was to always go right when you were lost.

Or was it left?

He bit his lip as he turned his attention away from the messy 'path' in front of him. It was probably a bad idea to get distracted with all of the obstacles around, but he needed to figure out what he had learned growing up.

It was right, right? Because the 'right' path is always the right path? Yeah, that was definitely it.

Or was it 'right' is wrong, so go left? 'Left' is left, and 'right' is right? Right is left, so go left? Was left right?

The word 'left' was beginning to sound like gibberish...

Was it too late to turn around? Maybe the forest would let him go down the left path instead of-

His train of thought suddenly completely derailed, and he felt his mouth gape open unheeded.

What stood before him was something very familiar, yet altogether different.

It was a large tree, stretching up beyond the regular height of most of its surroundings. It was gnarled and warped, growing out in odd leaning directions that actually weren't very odd when compared to the usual foliage. 

The roots of the massive tree spread out unevenly over the ground, forming little canopies and holes that were perfect for animals to hide in.

Or scared little colts.

The bark was a great deal lighter than the rest of the trees', with their deadened browns and frozen greys. If the rest of the Everfree looked dead, then this was one of the few 'alive' trees in the entirety of the woods.

Though, looks could be deceiving. This tree in particular was almost certainly dead.

A contemplative frown made its way onto his face, and he slowly walked forward as he took in the scene in front of him.

It had been around two months or so since he had returned to this place, and it had undergone some rather drastic changes. Most notably, somepony seemed to have carved it out. There were two openings in the bark that looked like windows, judging by the dim light shining out of them; as well as a larger spot of off-colored wood that was likely the front door.

Above him, there were multiple colorful bottles hanging from large outstretched branches, though he had no idea what they were for, since he couldn't quite make out whether they held anything inside. He counted around eight bottles, and they rested comfortably at varying levels. They looked cool, at least.

There was also what looked to be a big wooden mask stuck into the ground to the side of a darker path up to the door. He wasn't actually sure if it was really a mask, though. It was just about the same size as him, so there was pretty much no way any normal sized pony could wear it as anything other than a shell.

He had stopped in front of the wooden 'mask' to take in its details and try to glean any meaning from the patterns, but the longer he stared at the cartoonishly oversized lips and the painted cheeks, the more unsettled he became. He shuffled his hoof on the ground for a moment before looking away from the mask.

Even though its eyes were closed, he could tell it was still staring at him.

Putting creepy decorations aside, it was very clear that somepony had taken up residence in this tree.

Or somezebra...

Was that correct? Somezebra sounded kind of dumb, but he wasn't sure if that was just because it was a foreign word. For all he knew, 'somepony' could sound just as dumb to zebras.

He would probably just use the all-inclusive 'someone' in front of the zebra, just to be safe. First impressions would likely sour in the looming face of cultural misappropriation.

He was nearing the wooden door now, and he could see the handle was likewise made out of wood. A little unconventional, but thematically appropriate.

He came to a stop in front of the door, and stared owlishly up at another mask adorning the entryway. This one looked a great deal like a brown skull, and he couldn't help but think that there was a chance he could be walking into danger.

If this shaman was anything like him, they probably enjoyed their privacy; and unlike him, they probably had a way to enforce their privacy.

He had no way to protect himself if things went badly.

He bit his lip as he eyed the well-crafted wooden doorknob, and he felt trepidation begin to fill him.

Why was he doing this? What did he hope to gain? 

Had he really been foolish enough to traipse off to the residence of someone dangerous enough to survive in the Everfree Forest?

He was starting to feel very stupid. What was wrong with him?

Like he would have anything in common with someone like whoever lived here. He should leave. He should just turn around, and go back-

Okay, there was something cold on the back of his covered neck.

Okay, that cold thing was sharp.

Okay, he was pretty sure there was someone behind him.

Okay, he was in danger.

A deep, yet unmistakably female voice reached his ears, and he felt his fur stand on end.

"A spectre comes unheeded to my door, yet it knows not what lies in store."

It was a little hard to think, what with the immanent danger and all, but he was pretty sure he had found his zebra. His mother had told him that especially spiritual zebras only spoke in rhymes, to honor some ancient tradition or something. She may have elaborated, but again, the sharp object poised to rip through his cloak and into his flesh was sort of blocking his major thought processes.

He swallowed slightly, and raised his head slightly. He could feel the weapon pressing against his cloak and subtly digging into his nape, thankfully not hard enough to leave a mark, but definitely enough to make him fear the possibilty of pain.

And there was no doubt he was afraid.

The zebra's voice came again, quiet and steady. She was in control here, and her unwavering volume and calm tone reflected that.

"A month it has barely been, since I came here, far from kin. A misunderstanding so terrible, my presence was no longer bearable."

"So I was forced to move. I come to this dark place, with nothing to lose. Then, from out of the blue; a horrible shadow comes through."

"There's no such thing as luck, in this I am adamant. Your arrival here at my home was no accident."

"Why have you come here to this post? Were you looking for me? Speak, you terrible ghost!"

Her voice was beginning to take on a harder edge as she likely grew angrier. He didn't blame her, honestly. He would've been angry too if he found someone trespassing on his property a month after he moved.

Though, he didn't think he was capable of threatening their life; not yet, at least.

It was strange, him thinking about things like that. The fear he was feeling was by no means a small amount, but he didn't think he was as afraid as he should've been.

He was definitely on edge, and the itching sensation under his skin was probably a result of increased adrenaline, but there wasn't much more than that. The cold fire in his veins wasn't a roaring inferno like it should've been, burning through his body and filling him with the desire to live; it was more like a calm blaze in a warm hearth.

It spread through his body, providing him with energy and increased focus. He felt extremely aware of his situation, though staring intently at a door wasn't providing him with any helpful answers.

If he was turned towards his aggressor, he was sure he could do an incredibly detailed analysis on her and probably devise some sort of plan to incapacitate her.

But, as it was, he was staring at a door; and his panic-induced focus was spent on wishing he was doing something more assertive.

He could try using his magic, but everything he had ever read about combat was telling him that it would probably be a bad idea. If this zebra really was a shaman, she would be able to tell if he tried anything even approaching prestidigitation.

In his situation, he had to comply with whatever the zebra said, and that meant he had to give her an answer. Even if he really had no idea why she was calling him a ghost.

"Ah..." He started off slowly and quietly, trying his best to sound compliant. "I'm not quite sure what you mean exactly..?"

Okay, that was dumb. Why was he asking her questions? He was the one at the end of the knife, and he had no right to be asking things. That was like trying to put yourself in a position of power, and that wasn't what he wanted at all. If he was in her position, he would probably poke a little harder with that weapon, just to make sure his victim fully understood the situation.

He really wished he could hit himself in the face without getting stabbed. This was literally the worst time to think about things like that.

Luckily for him, the zebra didn't think like he did, and actually responded to his question. Though, she didn't sound all that sure of herself anymore. There was a slight wavering quality to her voice that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"It... speaks? Oh, ah... tell me, creature, what it is you seek?"

She sounded confused, and if he heard right, that rhyme barely fit.

His eyes narrowed, and he peered at the corner of his vision. He couldn't see, but it sounded like she might've been losing conviction. The knife wasn't moving from its firm spot on his cloak, but maybe....?

His eyes flicked up at the skull-like mask hanging above him.

All of the stupidest things he had ever done, this was going to be the stupidest. Seriously, did he have any brain at all?

He took in one deep breath, before letting it out.

He lit his horn, and leaned forward as much as he could while he waited for the magic to flow through the correct pathways. It would take about a second for his levitation to kick on, but he was pretty sure a weapon could travel the infinitesimal distance to plunge into his neck much faster.

Which was why he was really hoping the zebra was caught off guard.

He blinked, and he felt the spell take hold. He instantly attempted to reach for the knife, desperately hoping he had enough time before the zebra realized what he was doing and literally cut his attempt at retaliation off.

His magic coalesced around the blade, which was in the process of... moving away from his neck?

What?

He kept a hold on the knife as it retreated, and quickly spun around to press himself against the door once he was sure he could do so safely.

His eyes quickly focused on the black and white figure in front of him, and he zeroed in on the jagged edge of a small painted knife held in the crook of the figure's hoof.

It looked... dull? Was that thing ceremonial?

He looked up at the face of what was undoubtedly a female zebra, and noticed her wide cyan eyes and open mouth. He had definitely caught her by surprise, though he was beginning to think it wouldn't have mattered.

His nostrils flared as his breath came quickly and deeply, and he could feel a tingling sensation in his ears. He had just made a huge gamble for his life, and it worked. He was pretty sure he was in shock or something, because all he could feel was a spreading sense of jubilation. He had to actively fight to keep a smile off his face.

He fought for his life. He wasn't a coward.

As he basked in the rushing feeling of triumph, he took a moment to look over the zebra. He had only ever seen them in pictures, and only heard them described in various history books. Zebras didn't really come to Equestria due to the apparently strained political climate, so having the chance to see one with his own eyes was a treat.

She looked cool, he supposed.

There wasn't a lot more to say, really. He was finding it hard to think incredibly nice thoughts about the creature who had been threatening his life mere moments ago, even if that threat was starting to seem bogus.

Her grey coat and darker stripes made for some good contrast, and her gravity defying mohawk was certainly something to behold; but really, he just couldn't muster up a lot of admiration for the zebra.

What a great first impression.

He licked his lips as the zebra blinked slowly. She seemed to be recovering from her shock, though he thought it was a little unfair for her to be acting so dazed. It wasn't as if he was just standing around doing nothing, and he had almost died.

Sort of.

The zebra's owlish gaze dipped down to the knife she was holding, before moving back up to his face. Her mouth flapped uselessly for a moment, before she suddenly let the knife fall from her grasp. It fell to the ground noiselessly, and the zebra finally seemed to regain her bearings.

"A... pony..?"

Okay, maybe she hadn't regained anything. Also, she hadn't rhymed; which, if anything, was telling of how she was feeling at the moment.

There were enough context clues to formulate some vague hypothesis. Obviously, his cloak had made him look far more menacing than he really was, and she hadn't known he was just a pony. That was why she threatened him, and that was why she had backed off when he used his magic. She had realized he wasn't a threat, and now, it seemed as if she was feeling badly about nearly sticking a knife into him.

Although...

His eyes trailed down to the knife laying on the ground. It was relatively small, and the purple-edged blade was just an inch or so smaller than his horn. It was jagged and worn, and it really didn't look as if it could be used to actually hurt anything.

Even if she had stabbed him with that thing, it would probably just leave a shallow cut. Probably not much worse than a scratch from Rarity's demon cat. 

His eyes trailed back up to the zebra, who was looking very bashful. Her head was tilted down, her eyes were pointedly staying away from him, and one of her hooves was making small circles in the dirt. The air of general tension around her was almost palpable.

He almost felt bad for her. But she had pointed a knife at him, so he couldn't give entirely into pity.

He licked his lips again, and looked up at the dark canopy of leaves. There were no clues as to what he should do up there, and he soon looked back down.

He took a moment to mull it over. He couldn't just stand here in silence forever, and it didn't seem like the zebra was going to do anything anytime soon. She was content to let the awkward situation simmer, like some sort of neglected cauldron.

As cool and relevant as that metaphor was, it wasn't actually helping him think.

He had a couple options. He could blow up at her, as was his right. While it would be cathartic and just, he wasn't sure if it was the best thing to do at the moment. Their first meeting was bad enough as is, and he didn't really want to bog it down with more negative feelings.

He wasn't even that angry. Why should he have been? She may have made a threat, but it hadn't even been real. She had no way to actually hurt him with that dull little dagger.

If he put his best hoof forward here, even despite her actions, it would likely go a long way towards a good relationship. She didn't seem to be all that bad of a creature, really. She seemed to genuinely regret what she had done, or at least she was good at mimicking remorse.

And he could respect that.

He took a deep breath. He was going to metaphorically swallow his pride here, what little he had at least.

He loudly cleared his throat.

The zebra's head snapped up to come level with his almost instantly. He actually jumped a little from the unexpected movement. He hadn't expected such... attentiveness?

She must have been desperate for something to fill the silence, too.

He bit the inside of his cheek, before opening his mouth, "Uh.... Hey there? My, uh... my name is Light Flow."

The zebra took a step back as he spoke, and her hoof raised in front of her. Her jaw was set, and her eyes were animated, yet guarded. Her entire bearing screamed that she was ready and willing to bolt any second now.

That was very odd. She could clearly see that he was just a regular pony, and he clearly wasn't angry with her. What had her spooked?

She opened her mouth, then closed it, as if she wasn't sure what to say. Then, she opened it once more, and began to speak. 

Her voice was low, and her tone was wary. "A regular pony it seems to be, yet I can tell there is more to see.. Tell me, under that cloak, Is there a body? Or simply smoke?"

He scrunched his face in confusion. What did she mean? He clearly wasn't a ghost.

He raised a hoof, and used it to pull back his cloak. The zebra took another step back as he did, and he rolled his eyes. He could understand caution, but now she was just being ridiculous. As cool as it would be, he couldn't turn into smoke, and that should've been obvious.

If he could do that, she wouldn't have been able to hold him at knife-point.

"There, see? I'm just a normal pony, with a normal body, with the normal amount of intangibility. No ghosts here." He waved his cloak's edge around as he spoke, flapping it up and down to show off as much of his body as possible. He felt completely ridiculous, but he would do whatever he needed to lay this zebra's fears at rest.

His impromptu peep show seemed to help a little, and her posture relaxed slightly; but she still looked on edge.

"There was no doubt you are not a ghost, but to another problem, you may be host..." She murmured softly.

Her eyes roved over his body, and he let his cape fall back into place. Her piercing gaze was actually making him feel a little self-conscious. His epiphany from this morning could take a back seat for now.

"Well, whatever problem you have with me, it doesn't excuse your lack of a name." He was beginning to get a bit annoyed, and he let it show in his expression. He didn't want to bring up the assault, but he wasn't afraid of using other ponies' regrets against them. If she didn't feel like giving him the common courtesy of her name, he was just going to give up and go home.

His dipping mood seemed to snap the zebra out of whatever trance she was in. She took a deep breath and stepped towards him, her eyes still intently trained on him, as if he was going to leap out and attack her at any moment. 

"I am known as Zecora to all creatures, whether they be flora or fauna" She stopped a few hoof-lengths in front of him, and looked him in the eyes. "Please forgive me for my attack, for I was sure I had walked into a trap."

Her eyes searched his intently, and he almost felt compelled to look away. "Your form appears normal, yet your heart appears dark. A horrible feeling to behold, something has made its mark.."

He stared into her inquisitive cyan eyes as she spoke. He didn't know what she was talking about, but he sort of understood her suspicion.

After all, there was something he was suspicious about too. Something he had been ignoring until now.

Something that was making it hard to fully trust this 'Zecora'.

He wasn't going to break eye contact to confirm it, but he was sure enough.

He couldn't see her soul.

He had been so caught up in the excitement, he hadn't noticed until she was walking towards him. Where her soul should've been, there was just... nothing.

It reminded him of the mare he had seen at lunch yesterday, but this was far more concerning. The lunch mare's soul was just slightly transparent, just a little hard to see. Zecora's soul was completely gone, there was absolutely nothing there at all.

What could have caused it?

He narrowed his eyes as he stared into the guarded expression of the eccentric zebra. She had been saying something, hadn't she? He should respond, and keep up appearances as a normal pony with nothing to hide. There was no reason to call her out on her missing soul, that would just expose his own secret.

Best to keep it under his hood for now. Whatever kinship he had been hoping to find here was a total bust, and he was beginning to feel like he should be wary of Zecora. He had no idea why he couldn't see her soul, but it was making him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I'm quite sure I have no idea what you're talking about." He did his best to sound just as indignant as he was before. He didn't want Zecora to catch onto his rapidly growing distrust.

The zebra watched him silently for another moment before responding. "Tell me, friend named Light; what caused you to seek me out? Have you some sort of plight?"

Light and plight? Really? He was beginning to think this zebra didn't know how to rhyme at all.

He didn't let it show on his face, but he could feel a smile growing inside him. Two could play the game of terrible rhymes. 

"Your whereabouts I heard yesterday at lunch, and I rashly followed an ill-suited hunch." He finished his foal-level rhyme, and stared at Zecora, waiting for a reaction. If she was going to unnerve him, he was going to unnerve her.

His vindictive pleasure quickly abated when the zebra showed no visible reaction; rather, she seemed to ignore his rhyme altogether. His face remained neutral, but he was internally grumbling. Was his presence the only thing that upset her?

Zecora's face turned down in apparent confusion. "Such a rumor should not be heard, for I have been rather like a caged bird. I have not left these woods since I arrived, so your knowledge appears nearly contrived."

His eyes widened before he could stop them, and he cursed internally. Putting his lack of composure aside, that bit of information was especially strange. What did she mean she hadn't left? How else could a rumor have been passed around?

Nothing was adding up. A strange mare with a barely visible soul just happens to talk about a zebra shaman right behind his lunch table? And this zebra just happens to live in the Everfree forest, a place where he spent an unhealthy amount of time? And this supposed shaman also happens to have a soul he couldn't see at all?

He believed in coincidences, but this was too much.

He licked his lips as he stared at the anomalous mare in front of him. There was too much he didn't know. He had to gather more information somehow.

He knew what to do.

He closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath. There was a large chance this wasn't going to work. He was really taking a big leap, and he wasn't sure if he was going to land.

Here went nothing.

He opened his eyes, and stared into cautious cyan.

"Zecora, I feel like we're getting off on the wrong hoof here." He didn't quite make his voice friendly, just something approaching optimism. Anything further would probably have sounded fake, especially coming off the near-open hostility they had both been displaying.

It didn't matter if his good will actually was fake. He just had to sound genuine.

"I'm not sure what about me is so off-putting, but I'm sure we can both agree threatening me with a knife was a bit much, don't you think?" This was especially important. He had to make her backpedal from suspicion, and into regret; otherwise she wouldn't calm down.

His recollection of her rash actions seemed to have an effect. Her face turned down, and she finally broke eye-contact to slowly turn her eyes to the ground. He could guess from her general demeanor that she was normally fairly level-headed, so her quick escalation to violence must have been weighing on her; especially since it turned out he wasn't a monster.

Though, he was still curious why she had been so fast on the draw. He would have to ask her later, assuming his 'apology' worked.

He cleared his throat to get her attention, and let a small smile spread on his face when she looked back up at him. "But that's okay. Your actions were completely justified, and I don't hold it against you, honest." 

He placed a hoof on his chest, just under the tiny silver ring holding his cloak together. He was doing his best to sound genuine, and it seemed to be working somewhat. Zecora's features were beginning to soften, and she was starting to lose some of her air of suspicion.

"As I understand, the Everfree can be quite the dangerous place." Oh, how he understood that. He had probably spent more time here than she had. "Of course you would be on edge, living out here; but I can assure you that I mean you no ill-will, despite what you may feel about me."

"I'm not sure how that mare I overheard knew where you were, but I promise I won't spread your location around if you don't want to be found." He was pretty sure it was working. His soft tone and non-threatening posture had been carefully cultivated through years of acting like a victim for Applejack's grandmother. Whenever he and Applejack had found themselves in trouble as foals, he had usually been able to shift most of the blame to her.

Not the most noble thing to do, but it wasn't as if he was trying.

"As you can see from my cutie mark," He turned his body and lifted his cloak as he spoke, so that Zecora could see his lower body. "I'm studying archeology. I sought you out so I could maybe hear about the burial habits of zebras, that's all. There was no malice intended, and If you don't want to talk to me, I can go home and leave you in peace."

He let his cloak fall, and turned to face Zecora again. Her face had taken on a contemplative tone, and she seemed to be mulling something over. He was content to let her sit in silence until she had an answer. Just as long as his semi-lie went over well.

He actually did think it would be kind of interesting to hear how zebras buried and honored their dead.

Finally, she seemed to come to a decision, and she let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, friend. My morals seem to have taken a bend."

Her eyes turned to his. They were almost completely devoid of the previous guarded suspicion, though not entirely. That was fair, he supposed. It would have been absolutely unreasonable to expect her to get over all her grievances with one apology.

Her voice took on a warmer tone, and she even smiled slightly as she spoke. "I, too would like to make another attempt at amends. A deeper apology, I doubt I could extend."

"My actions were in error, and I likely caused you no small amount of terror." Her voice dipped to a regretful tone as she spoke, and her ears pressed against her head.

"While your aura may be frightening, I think I'm coming to an enlightening." 

He wasn't sure if that rhyme really worked too well, but he wasn't about to correct her; especially since she seemed to be getting to the point of whatever she was trying to say.

"I would enjoy it greatly if we could talk over some tea, for I have been quite alone lately with the company of just me and we."

Tea? He felt a frown tugging at his face, but he suppressed it. He really didn't like tea, no matter how many times he tried it. He almost felt compelled to refuse, or at least ask for something different, but he knew he couldn't.

Instead, he let a larger smile form on his face. "Tea would be lovely."

Zecora dipped her head in acknowledgement, and stared at him expectantly. What was she waiting for?

He felt his confusion rising as the zebra continued to stare at him. Had she said something without him noticing? had he said something? Why was she just standing around staring at him? Wasn't she going to go make tea? Why were they still just standing there?!

Oh, wait. He was still standing in front of her door.

He laughed nervously as he took a step forward. Zecora watched him with a raised eyebrow as he walked past her, before she shook her head and walked forward.

He let his rictus grin fade away as he stared at Zecora from behind. He narrowed his eyes as she opened her door and walked inside, away from his line of sight.

This had gone so much worse than how he had imagined it. Not only was the zebra practically eliminated as a potential friend, she was probably closer to an enemy.

His shoulders sagged momentarily as the thought dominated his mind. He had been looking forward to this so much, and now it was pretty much ruined. There was no conceivable way they would be able to establish any sort of trust with so much negativity in the air. Zecora could barely even stand to be near him.

Why was she so wary of him? What had he done to destroy their relationship before they even met?

Why was he standing around here when he could be asking these questions?

He took a deep breath, and straightened his back. He would get whatever answers Zecora had to give, and then he would leave.

He would leave, and go back to his life. With his one friend.

It served him right for getting his hopes up.