//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 - Questing // Story: Helper Monkey // by Moonton //------------------------------// “What was that all about?” Msaidizi thought sullenly to himself, as he ambled through the forest. For as long as he’d known her (all of two days, admittedly) Zecora had never been angry at him. Mildly mysterious perhaps - he still felt that there something odd about a talking zebra, although if pressed he wouldn’t be able to say why – but she’d never been angry at him before. He guessed that it was probably his fault. After all, he did eat her food and then sleep in her cart for a whole day. Perhaps he’d accidentally crushed one of her prized possessions? With a sigh he decided that he’d just have to do his job as well as he could, and then apologise afterwards. Be the better stallion. “Wait, the better what?” Msaidizi stopped and replayed that last thought, confused. “Why did I say ‘stallion’? That’s not the right word at all! That’s...“. A sudden thumping headache struck him, like the ones he got whenever he tried to think about the distant past, and he found himself having to lean against a tree and use his spare hand to cover his eyes and cup his temple in an effort to dull the pain. He made a mantra of hissing through his teeth with each breath until, blessedly, it passed. When he took his hand away, he noticed some mushrooms at the base of the tree. “Oh, hey! Neat!” Msaidizi said, unfurling the list. “Let’s see: Flat top, sort of grey-blue, silver spots... ah, here it is!” he did a double take when he saw what it was called, reading it again just to be sure he’d gotten it right. “It’s really called the ‘Blue-Grey Silver Spot Cap’?” He rolled his eyes the lack of imagination and bent over to pick them, but when he did that the basket slid off the end of the bamboo stick and clattered on the ground. Sighing angrily at his incompetence, he picked it back up and discovered that the basket hadn’t been completely empty after all. There was a small compartment in the bottom, which contained two small glass bottles, with pyramid bases and cork stoppers; a square of dirty cloth; and a couple of small drawstring bags. Msaidizi decided to move them into the basket proper in case he needed them, throwing in the mushrooms after. Further and further away he trekked, crossing things off the list as he went. From a clearing full of orange poppies he took a dozen seed pods (“Eat these seeds, and you will find that it soothes your pain, but dulls your mind” Zecora had written on the list). These went into one of the bags. Around some boulders he found scraggly brownish ferns, which were apparently called ‘Old Mare’s Trouble’. A handful of those went in the basket. Next came several bulrush heads, from a pond full of stagnant, foul-smelling water. Other things on the list were harder to get. ‘Spine Root’ proved to be particularly tricky – it was an ugly, fat and round tuber that shivered and shot out thin, prickly spikes from its top whenever something came close to it, growing them back in seconds. After painfully discovering this (the list had warned him, but he’d thought it had sounded stupid and ignored it, to his later regret) Msaidizi resorted to hiding behind a tree and throwing rocks at it to make it fire, then trying to rush up and pull it out the ground before it could grow its spines back. On the third try he succeeded, but his victory was cut short when the tuber decided to shoot one final burst in its death throes, before finally lying still. Even with it dead, he decided to play it safe and wrapped it in the piece of cloth. Wild Blackberries were also on the list, but every thorny bush Msaidizi found was stripped bare. After what felt like a couple of frustrating hours of searching he could hardly believe his luck as he came across a glade full of them, practically straining under the weight of their fruit. He quickly snatched the amount needed, but before he could grab some extra for himself a swarm of bulbous, glittering insects of many colours appeared. Their wings buzzing loud enough to hurt his ears, they descended upon the bushes and devoured the fruit in seconds, before disappearing back into the canopy as fast as they’d arrived. All in all, Msaidizi considered that to be rather unfair. The final item required was called ‘Golden Moss’ and could apparently only be found at the forests edge, on tree branches that stretched over into ‘Equestria’ (whatever that was, Msaidizi guessed it was a place. A country perhaps). The list described them as “A yellow moss, of shining hue. Brings good health (and fortune too!)” Finding the forests edge was simple enough, he just had to walk in the direction the foliage got thinner in, until eventually he found himself stepping out of the shadowy forest and into the bright light of the late afternoon. The view was breath-taking, rolling fields of grass and flowers whispering gently in the wind, under a cloudless blue sky. The sun was wonderfully warm and the breeze was comfortably cool. To complete the idyllic picture a town could be seen in the distance. It seemed to be mostly composed of white, thatched-roof cottages, but there also seemed to be some sturdier buildings and even what looked like a park filled with large tents. “I wonder what lives there?” Msaidizi had thought to himself. “Maybe more zebras, like Zecora? I hope they’re friendly.” Along the forests edge he walked, just enjoying the sun and the birdsong, when he saw it. An enormous piece of Golden Moss hanging from an outstretched branch, so big that Msaidizi was certain he could wrap up in it if he wanted to, wearing it like a slightly damp fleece. Placing his basket and stick at the base of the tree, he (after a few false-starts) clambered up the trunk. He then worked his way to the branch and ever so carefully sidled along it, until he was close enough to stretch over and grab it. “Come on, you stupi- whoa!” Just as he caught hold of it he lost his balance, and with a crash and a thump Msaidizi fell out of the tree altogether and onto his back. “My... everything” he softly moaned. His pain was fast accompanied by worry when he realised that another voice beneath him was moaning as well. He’d landed on someone! “Oh dear, I’m so sorry!” he began to stammer. “So, so sorry! I was jus-“ The other voice interrupted him with a gasp of delight. “Hey!” it exclaimed in a feminine tone. “Is that Golden Moss?!” Whatever it was Msaidizi had landed on pulled herself out from under him and walked –no, trotted – over to where his prize had fallen. “Oh my gosh, it is! It’s such a big piece too. You’re so lucky; I’ve been looking all day and haven’t found any!” “Subtle. You should probably help her”. “I think it might be too big, actually” he offered tentatively, pushing up into a sitting position with a grunt and finally getting a look at who he’d landed on. She turned out to be like Zecora in shape, but the details couldn’t have been more different. Instead of black and white stripes, she was a surprising pale pink in colour, with lime-green bouncy curls instead of a Mohawk and jade eyes. She also appeared more feminine in form than the zebra, with a rounder muzzle, more circular eyes and pronounced eyelashes. She did have a tattoo on her flanks (Msaidizi made a mental note to ask Zecora about those sometime) but it was a trio of daisy flowers rather than a black and white sun symbol. The pony (“Pony! That’s the word! Of course it is!”) gave a large grin and fluttered her eyelashes (he didn’t know why she did the latter, she wasn’t even looking at him). “Oh, really?” she asked, guessing where the conversation was headed. He got up, walked over to his basket and picked up his list. Rifling through it, he nodded and said “Yes, I only need about a third of this. You can take the rest, if you like”. The pony gave a squeal of delight and eagerly ripped a piece off the moss, then took the remainder and draped it across her back. “Thank you so much!” she gushed. “You’re such a gentlecolt!” Msaidizi snorted. “I’m not sure what that is, but thank you, I think?” “What do you mea-“ For the first time the pony actually seemed to see him, and more importantly see that he wasn’t another of her kind. Her reaction was surprising to him to say the least. Her eyes widened as her pupils contracted, and she took short gasping breaths as she backed away with an expression of pure terror. “M-m-m-MONSTER!” she shrieked, jumping a full foot into the air (the Golden Moss she was carrying falling to the ground) before turning around and running away, screaming bloody murder all the while. “Miss! You dropped your moss!” Msaidizi called out to the ponies fleeing back. He made a move to pick it up and follow her, but decided against it. She’d seemed quite friendly at first, but her reaction towards him had left the assistant feeling hurt and annoyed. “Fine, be that way” he muttered to no one in particular, as he went back to his list. “Okay, that seems to be the last thing! Now I just need to...” He frowned and gazed into the middle distance. “I’m lost, aren’t I?” he sighed. “Fantastic” He went over the list again, turning it over a couple of times. “She said I wouldn’t get lost, so is there something written on here or- hang on!” There did turn out to be something written on it, at the very bottom of the back side. “Read out loud” Msaidizi read aloud, squinting at the words. They were written in a language he didn’t understand (presumably the one Zecora spoke where she was from) and he was unsure how to pronounce them. “Uh... Roho, kuchukua yangu nyumbani kwa bibi?” The effect was immediate. After the last syllable left his lips Msaidizi dropped the list and stood ramrod straight, his arms stiffened and at his sides. A pale dot of purple sparked in his eyes, growing and darkening until they were entirely consumed by the colour. With jerky movements he picked up the basket and bamboo staff, turned to a seemingly randomly direction into the Everfree Forest, and broke out into a sudden sprint. Back at the camp, Zecora was taking it easy. Once she’d sent her assistant scurrying off she only had a few more preparations she could do, and the rest was for when he got back with the ingredients. So until then, she’d just lay down next to the fire, with a cup of tea in one hoof and a good book in the other. Occasionally she checked the progress of the sun between the trees and guessed the time. She perked her ears up at a distant sound, and with a smile of recognition she put the book down. It was a distant crashing, growing steadily louder and louder. After a few minutes Msaidizi burst out of the undergrowth and into the middle of the clearing, where he carefully put down the basket and stick in that stiff manner. The purple light then faded from his eyes, and he gave a brief look of confusion before crying out and falling to the ground, taking in deep gasping breaths as if he was drowning. “Aha!” Zecora smirked, walking over to the basket and peering inside. “Good to see you! And how did you do?” Msaidizi didn’t answer her, continuing to try suck in as much air as possible. Zecora took the basket to the table and emptied it of its contents, before sorting them into neat little groups. Some ingredients were cut up into little pieces beforehand and some were mashed with the mortar and pestle, but all of them ended up going into the cauldron. By the time this was finished her assistant didn’t sound like he was dying so much, so she took a water gourd from the cart and brought it over to him. It was snatched out of her hooves and drained within seconds. “What was that!?” Msaidizi finally managed to ask from the ground. “Magic” He looked at the zebra as if she’d grown a second head. “Very funny” he said, annoyed. “But seriously, what was that” Zecora rolled her eyes. “I’ll have you know I am no pretender. I laced your tea with ‘Return to Sender’” In answer to her confession he just stared at her blankly for what felt like an awkward length of time, and she found herself grinning sheepishly and taking a step back, explaining “You imbue some words into the brew, and when spoke, those who have drunk will return to you”. “You did what?!” he burst out. “But, you, why-” A great anger began to grow in Msaidizi’s heart. He felt betrayed and violated, drugged and forced to run far longer and harder than he was capable of, and all for the benefit of a cruel, magical (apparently) talking zebra who didn’t want to bother finding him when he got lost doing a task she made him do! He was determined to not take it anymore! Unfortunately the rest of his body seemed to have betrayed him as well. Whenever he tried to push himself up, his arm muscles sang in agony before collapsing under him. Everything was sore (even places he didn’t previously think could be), and his legs felt one errant twitch away from giving him the worse cramps of his life. “Fine” he muttered into the dirt, defeated. “Will that be all, miss? I’d like to take a break now” Zecora smiled warmly and patted him on the head. “Yes, quite” she said. “Although like to watch this part, you might” Msaidizi just managed to find the energy to turn his head as Zecora went to work. She filled up a cup from the cauldron, and splashed it on the roots of a random tree (random to Msaidizi anyway, in truth she’d spent a while picking out the perfect one). She repeated this action several more times, until the ground surrounding it was beginning to soak, and then wrapped the Golden Moss around the trunk. Next she drew a wide circle around the tree in the liquid and sprinkled raw ingredients around the inside of it. With the preparations completed, the ritual began. Zecora began to dance, a simple stomp-stomping motion at first but it became more impressive as she hopped up on her hind legs and continued it from there. She waved her forelegs back and forth through the air and chanted in her native tongue, in a wailing ululating tone. Msaidizi found it all a bit humorous at first, but that rapidly changed to fear and wonder as he noticed what was happening. Thin tendrils of mist began to rise from the ground within the circle, swaying like the tentacles of some vast underground beast, and growing fatter as they grew taller. Whenever one grew to a certain height it reached out towards the tree in the centre of the circle and latched on. What happened next made the assistants jaws slacken in amazement. With a great amount of noise, of birds taking flight in alarm and wood and sap creaking, the trees surrounding the circle began to shrink. Leaves were shrinking into the branches and the branches were sinking into the trunk. Any plants on the forest floor receded as well, receding back into the earth. The ingredients scattered around the circle were absorbed as well, included the Golden Moss which sank direct into the bark. Inside the circle the misty limbs began to pulse in time with Zecora’s hooves, and as fast as the trees outside were shrinking the one in the centre began to grow, with even more noise than the others. Although it was becoming much taller, the majority of its growth seemed to be centred on the bottom of its trunk, as it grew wider and wider, its roots growing monstrously fat and outreaching to boot. Holes began to appear in the sides, revealing the interior to be hollowing out. “Like a house!” Msaidizi realised. As fast as it began, it ended. With one last note that was practically a screech Zecora fell back onto all four hooves, panting heavily and coated with sweat. With the spell broken the mist retreated back into the ground with unnatural speed, accompanied by the crack and whoosh of rushing air as it hurried to fill the void left behind. It was over; the clearing the camp was in was now significantly bigger, and right next to an enormous hollow tree that was only a door away from being a home. Their home. Satisfied, Zecora wiped her brow with a fore hoof gave Msaidizi another warm smile. “Time to unpack” she said.