Chapter 12
Lesson First
Even a cloudless day can appear dark when viewed through troubled eyes.
Outside the window, the whitewashed buildings of Ponyville rested like sheep upon lumbering emerald hills. The birds sang minuets to each other while the river giggled merrily and the cheerful sounds of ponies going about their casual lives floated through the air. All of this played out like a music box dancer beneath the warm rays of the flushed sun. Yet even the scene’s radiant watercolor palate was strangely dim in my eyes.
“It all seems so… normal…” I whispered to myself. “You’d never know that just a week ago, Ponyville was all soapy roads and splintered skies.”
For a moment, I was glad to be alone in Twilight Sparkle’s kitchen. There was no one to hear my monologue or the strange tone that laced it. I should have been happy for Ponyville, for the grinning ponies outside, for their resiliency in the face of adversity, for their ability to pick themselves up and move on with their lives, but I couldn’t help but feel…
“Annoyed? Exasperated? Resentful?... Envious?...” Was there a word to describe how I felt? How could the little ponies trot about so carefree while I felt like Damocles trapped beneath a hanging sword? How could they smile when another villain could pop up at any moment? How was it nopony was worrying about tomorrow? Was it because I was the only one who knew what ‘tomorrow’ had in store for them?
“Or… is something else bothering you?” I asked myself. To answer that, I had to reflect on the past few days.
The week had been a whirlwind experience. After Discord’s fall, there was the victory ceremony, the celebrations, the adjustment to having nationally-recognized heroes in Ponyville, and the wave of fame that it all entailed. Eventually, though, even the newspaper articles and gossip ponies ran out of things to say about the ‘event’, and the quiet little town had finally returned to normal. The nightmare of chaos had been left in the past like a bad dream and now ‘Discord’ was nothing more than the name of Celestia’s newest statue. Nothing had really changed. Except, really, the fact that I was now a registered extraterrestrial living in Equestria.
Celestia’s reaction to that particular revelation surprised me. I had prepped myself for a grilling interrogation, hasty imprisonment, and/or a thorough prodding by countless xenobiologists, but the princess had dispelled all of that in an instant. Instead, she had made it perfectly clear that, as far as she and her sister were concerned, my status in their kingdom had not changed in the slightest. I was still the sole representative of a nonaggressive species and, as an honorable ambassador thereof, would not be forced to answer any questions or volunteer any information I did not want to. It was a political maneuver on her part, of course, showing that she trusted me enough to trust them back by explaining where I had come from and how I had entered their world.
Well, I had nothing to hide, and I gladly shared what I knew with the two princesses via a couple private interviews. Yet, even after explaining all I could about Earth and my own bizarre adventure, they had no new insight for me into how I had come to Equestria or how I might return home. (Though there was no shortage of glances exchanged between the two during our talks.)
Celestia’s tact, however, hadn’t stemmed the enthusiasm of her prized student. Earth and its various facets thereof had commanded almost every conversation between Twilight Sparkle and myself since Discord was re-petrified. The purple unicorn’s hunger for knowledge about my home world was so voracious that I could barely string two sentences together without her peppering me with questions. Of course, Twilight tried to copy and document all our conversations, but one might as well have tried to act as the stenographer for a Japanese parliament argument. Needless to say, a lot of my free time was spent correcting her work.
As of that morning, I was taking a break from my ‘homework’ to craft a fruit salad for a picnic the girls had planned that day. Twilight Sparkle and Spike had run off that morning with a laundry list of errands longer than a Chinese dragon and hadn’t been seen for over an hour. On the table behind me lay a pile of papers and a couple half-hearted sketches of a computer. I imagine everyone has entertained the idea of going back in time and trying to explain things like ‘cars’ and ‘television’ to alien cultures, but before that week, I’d never considered how one would describe something like the ‘internet’. (As far as Twilight Sparkle knew, it was some kind of invisible library that one could access via rectangular black windows.)
That hour was actually the first time all week I’d had some time to myself, but now that I found myself alone, I realized that I didn’t much care for the company. The empty room was filled with the whispers of my own thoughts.
“So? What’s eating you?” I asked myself again.
“Nothing. I’m at the top of the food chain.”
“Oh, har, har, Timon. But seriously, what have you got on your mind?”
“Apparently, a second voice that talks to me at the worst possible times.”
“Aw, come on. You know you love me.” I gripped both sides of the sink and leered out the window. My eyes swept over the sunlit fields. Strange how none of that light seemed to make it into the library. I muttered,
“This is about Discord, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I admitted.
“You’re really going to let him get to you? That’s kind of like letting him win, even though he’s defeated.”
“In my opinion, he did win.” I huffed. “I’m not talking about taking over Equestria. No, we stopped him there. But our argument about how I’m always lying to myself, how I’m always wearing a mask, how I don’t belong here,”
“Now hold on-”
“He made some good points. When he took off my ‘mask’, I’m not really sure I recognized the creature that came to light. And I let my friends down. Discord was right all along.”
I took a deep breath and looked down at my fruit salad. I’d been standing at the sink for over twenty minutes, but all I had to show for my work was one skinned apple. One and a half if you counted the one still in my hand. I groaned,
“I need help.”
“Is this something you could talk to the girls about?”
“Not likely. I still can’t get over how helpless I was during the Discord scenario. How much I let them down. If I talk with my friends, they’ll just tell me not to blame myself for what happened and encourage me to love myself for who I am.”
“And? That’s a bad thing because?”
“Because it’s not enough.” My teeth ground together like a mortar and pestle. “A human can’t fend off vampire fruit bats. A human can’t save Spike from a trio of teenage dragons. A human can’t protect Rainbow Dash from the quarray eels. A human can’t fend off an army of changelings! A human can’t-!” I glanced down in surprise at my pale knuckles, clamped threateningly around the handle of the kitchen knife. I whispered, “I’m not good enough for my friends. That’s what’s eating me.”
“Wait a minute. Listen to what you’re saying. Where will that kind of thinking lead? You start hating your abilities, you’ll start hating yourself. You’ll start hating everything you do. You’ll start hating what it means to be you. And your friends already like who you are!”
“I don’t care.” I tossed aside the half-peeled apple and stared at the knife. “If I can’t protect my friends, then I’m not worthy of them. If they get hurt and I didn’t do everything in my power to protect them, I’ll never forgive myself! Especially since I’m the only person in this world who has seen the future. I need to give them the happy ending they deserve!”
“Wooo… God complex much?”
“This is different!” I shouted into the empty room. “I tried to stand by, tried to let my friends grow into the people I know they’re destined to be, but it’s not enough to just watch! As far as I’m concerned, I’ve already failed them… A villain defeated my friends and I won’t let it happen again.”
“… Do you have a plan?” I asked myself.
“I have… the beginnings of a plan.”
“Ah yes… Her… You know that’s not real magic, right?”
“It’s not ‘conventional’ magic, no, and it might be severely limiting, but it’s the only lead I have.”
“Sounds like a visit to the forest is in order. Where’s Harry, by the way?”
“He’s uh… not available today. I think I saw him limping over to Fluttershy’s earlier.”
“What? He hurt himself? Got a knot in his back? Ha! Wouldn’t it be funny if this was the episode where Fluttershy beats him up?”
“Yeah, but that would mean-” In that moment, the front door of the library swung in and I could hear Spike and Twilight’s voices in the other room. My own conversation fell silent as I listened to the two chatting,
“Looks like that’s everything!” Spike announced with a mixture of pride and relief.
“Almost everything.” Twilight Sparkle reminded him. There was the sound of shuffling paper as the little dragon worked his way to the end of the titanic checklist. He read the last bullet,
“Triple-check checklist to make sure we didn’t miss anything when we double-checked the checklist! Uh… check!”
“Wait. Why does this sound familiar?” I frowned to myself as I crept up to the edge of the main room.
“Ugh, I’ve been holding that quill so long, I’ve got a claw cramp! Well, good thing we don’t have anything to report to Princess Celestia this week. I don’t think I could write another word.”
“We haven’t sent a letter to Princess Celestia this week!?” Twilight Sparkle gasped.
“She hasn’t sent a letter to Princess Celestia this week!?” I gasped.
Well, that cinched it. Things were about to get very weird in Ponyville and I wasn’t about to sit around waiting for a maniacal magical mischief-maker to put a ‘want-it-need-it’ spell on my heart. I quickly ran through my criteria of whether or not to intervene in this particular episode:
Is somepony’s life in danger?
-Not apparently, no.
Does (fill in character’s name here) emerge from the episode better for the experience? (Also known as the ‘Friendship Lesson’ rule)
-Twilight needs to unwind. I’m gonna say ‘yes’. Oh, and after this, Celestia invites all the girls to write the letters. So, I guess that’s a good thing.
Do I want to be around for this episode?
-What? And meet creepypasta Twilight? I’ll pass, thanks.
And with that, I swept up a piece of paper and began scribbling,
“Going to see Yoda. Won’t be back. Sorry. And Spike? Watch Twilight, ok?” It was hardly Homer’s Iliad, but I had barely even memorized the Equestrian alphabet by then.
I placed the note on a table, pulled on my shoes, and grabbed my Everfree survival kit. I ducked out of the door just as the unicorn and the dragon were finishing up their dialogue,
“… That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You’re not going to be sent back to magic kindergarten.” Spike assured.
“You’re right. I have no reason to worry.” Twilight agreed. “Because I’m going to solve a friend’s problem and get that letter to Princess Celestia before sundown!”
“Ugh...”
I was already long gone on my pilgrimage before Twilight could catch me and ask if I had any problems for her to solve. One could argue that I kind of did, but indulging the panicky little student would ruin the episode, and besides, it wasn’t a problem she could properly resolve. For that, I needed ‘Yoda’.
“I wonder if Spike gets the reference.” I chuckled to myself as I trotted down Ponyville’s streets. I hadn’t finished telling him the story of ‘Star Wars’, but unless there was another strangely-colored-alien-hermit who talked funny and lived in a tree in a swamp, I figured he’d know where I was going.
Visiting Zecora, or even just visiting the Everfree forest, was always a pleasant experience, but it came with its own set of rules. The first rule was to always tell someone where you were going. (Even if it’s just a hastily-scribbled note with a vague reference in it that someone might get but their egghead friend might not.) The second rule was to never travel alone, but I’d been rather flexible on that one, partly because Harry wasn’t always available, but also because of my third rule: be prepared. Thus, the survival kit on my back.
My Everfree survival kit was a combination of items you’d likely find in a boy scout’s ‘ten essentials’, a fantasy RPG inventory, and Les Stroud’s Christmas wishlist. It had a blanket, a canteen, some matches, a healing potion, a couple antidotes, a silver mirror (in case of cockatrices), a few bottled herbs (in case of manticores), a flute (in case of ursas), and my fire rod (in case of timber wolves).
It should be noted that th rod itself had a cooler name than it was fit to bear. In reality, it was nothing more than the old lantern I’d used when facing the ursa minor lashed onto a walking stick. Even as oil-based lanterns went, it was a cheap model, and Twilight Sparkle wondered why I had kept it around for so long, but after I discovered that sloshing its fuel around could cause it to drip burning liquid, it became my constant companion whenever I went into the Everfree forest. If the Legend of Zelda games had taught me anything, it was that any self-respecting explorer needed a lantern, and the ability to light stuff on fire was always a bonus, so I named my invention after the most overpowered item in ‘Link’s Awakening’.
Like great wooden arms, the forest closed around me and I found myself once more in the muffled world of the Everfree. I kept my mouth closed and my ears open as I wound my way towards the lone zebra’s hut. Despite having walked down that same path numerous times, that day’s trip felt fundamentally different than my typical visits. It had been quite a while since I had last seen Zecora and I wasn’t going for a friendly chat. I was there because I needed something. There was no way of knowing how receptive she would be to my request or even if she was home at all. There was also no contingency plan if she refused my wish.
My nagging doubts clung to me like thorny burs until I rounded the last bend in the trail and saw Zecora’s tree. The windows were lit with a warm glow and I could smell the herbalist’s signature aroma of dried flowers and incense. It was an inviting scene, like finding a camp fire on a cold night. Shaking off the last of my inhibitions, I determinedly stepped towards the front door and lifted my fist.
“Come in, Mark, no need to knock.
‘Tis far too formal for friends to talk.” I shook my head and pushed the door open.
“How do you do that?” I chuckled. Inside, I found the room lit with orange lamps and the neon green cauldron in the center of the floor. Zecora and a half dozen of her tribal masks greeted me with a smile as she gestured to a low table. Tea for two was already set up and waiting for us.
“You were expecting company?” I shrugged off my survival kit and sat down.
“Only the company you’ve brought today.
I thought I’d have visitors coming my way.”
“Sorry I didn’t come sooner. The past week has been kind of hectic.” The subtle aroma of brewed blackbriar leaves wafted into my nostrils. I graciously took the wooden cup my host offered. “Thank you.”
“After such excitement, it takes time to wind down.
I wondered how you fared, remaining in town.
But no longer chaos, things have become still.
Tell me, how are things now, back in Ponyville?” Zecora asked.
I narrated as much as I could (pretty much the last two chapters) while my audience calmly soaked in the world-warping events of the past week. I told her about the vicious curse Discord, lord of chaos, had inflicted on my friends and the particularly irksome one he had slapped on me. I kept nothing from her except the personal secrets I’d tried to conceal and the fact that I had been the one who chartered Cherry Berry’s balloon. Zecora never once interrupted me, not even when I got to the part that I was an alien to the world of Equestria. (Seriously, what does it take to phase these ponies?)
“After the girls used the Elements of Harmony to seal up Discord and his power, Celestia recognized them as national heroes. So, that was pretty exciting. But all the energy’s died down now. It’s like everypony just left it all in the past. The villain as well as the heroics. It’s as if nothing ever happened at all.”
“It seems they do just what they should.
Not to linger on the past, but focus on the good.”
“Yeah… good for them…” I sipped my tea. My host narrowed her eyes, but remained silent. “Granted, some ponies got hit by the chaos a lot harder than others. Most fled, but the few that remained went through some pretty surreal experiences. I’m speaking out of familiarity, mind you. Actually, now that I think about it, did Discord’s chaos mess up anything here in the forest? Or were you pretty safe out here?” Zecora shrugged.
“Little changed, if I were to gage.
I feel his focus was on a different stage.
Perhaps the creatures were restless, at best,
But now all has returned to its normal rest.” She lifted her wooden cup in her hooves and took a slow sip.
“At least, that’s what I’d like to say,
But a little discord remains today.”
“Hm? What do you mean?” I peered up at her calm face. “Discord was turned back to stone! He can’t do anything. Not for a long time, anyway.”
“It has happened, I don’t know how,
But you carry a shadow over your brow.
I don’t speak of ‘Discord’, the piece of art,
I speak of the discord lingering in your heart.”
“You don’t miss a beat, do you?” I sat back, resignedly. “I figured I’d be polite and small-talk for a little bit longer.”
“If something troubles you, please do share.
All other topics are just wasted air.”
“Alright, but it’s not really something I’ve been able to put to words, so give me a minute.” Zecora waited patiently while I tried to compose my thoughts. The only sounds that filled the room were the soft murmuring of her cauldron, the chirping of a tiny water fountain, and the restless clicking as I tapped my cup. Finally, I began,
“I have my friends to thank for everything. On my own, I had nothing but the threadbare shirt on my back and a head full of references to a world I may never see again, but here, I’ve been given a new life. My friends gave me clothing, food, a job, a home, and, strangely enough, their friendship. I want to be able to reciprocate that, or at least protect it, but Discord made it painfully obvious of how helpless a human in Equestria is. I’m weaker, slower, and more ignorant than any of my friends, and I’m having an identity crisis because of that. Maybe it’s my big brother instincts, but I’m not usually the one who needs protecting. I want to to repay their kindness, but all I feel is powerlessness. And so…” I looked up at Zecora. “I want you to teach me potion-making. Or, alchemy. Or, whatever it’s called. Please.”
In reply, the zebra merely buried her muzzle in her cup and drank quietly. I tried to read her passive expression, but her face was as elusive as the morning mist. With a friendly, but measured, tone, she asked,
“You are upset, that I can see,
So why do you ask this thing of me?”
“Twilight Sparkle’s determined that humans weren’t built for using magic, so no matter how much I study what other ponies have accomplished, I’ll only be able to understand the basic theory, not counter it. But you, as far as I can tell, you don’t use your own power to do arcane work, you use potions. Please correct me if I’m mistaken, but I think this might be a way I can get around my handicap.”
My mind quickly conjured up every memory I had about Zecora from the TV show. Though not a very prominent character, she was definitely more than a humble recluse. Far from being limited to healing poison joke and cooking up big pots of soup, I’d seen the zebra heal mute roosters, regrow chipped teeth, summon a cup of water from nothingness, and even conjure up a ghostly replica of Nightmare Moon. Even just that last one put the zebra on par with unicorns like Trixie.
Zecora continued to stare at me as if watching exactly what was going through my mind and, for a fleeing moment, I wondered if she could. Instead of answering right away, however, she gently smiled, got to her hooves, and walked up to a row of shelves behind me. Her back was towards me, but I could hear her shuffling pots and dried medicines around.
“Your heart, to your friends, is closely knit.
And yet you feel inadequate?
The power of friendship can take you far.
But yet you try and change the way you are?” She finished up with her pots and returned to her seat across from me.
“This isn’t a matter about changing myself.” I’d been expecting a question along those lines. “It’s about being more true to myself. I’m not going to stagnate and pretend everything is sunshine and rainbows when I know how unforgiving the world can be. If there’s anything I can do to prepare for the future, then I feel it’s my duty to pursue it, otherwise I’ve failed in some way. I’m not going to be reactive when I can be proactive…. (Gawd, I sound like my mother.) That is, not when it comes to protecting my friends. On the other hand, if you ask me to talk to a stranger on the phone, I get colder feet than a barefoot eskimo dancing on a skating rink. But that’s off-topic.”
“It is always a pleasure to share what I know,
And do what I can to help others grow.” Zecora looked at me reassuringly and my heart leapt with suspense. For a fleeting moment, I thought she would take me on as an apprentice right then and there. I should have known better than to assume it would be so easy.
“Before we begin, I’ll share with thee,
A lesson from the one who mentored me.
In the wrong hooves, the misguided could
Use these skills for evil instead of for good.
My arts can build, or they can devour.
So what is your plan for this kind of power?”
“To protect and serve, of course!” I flashed a quick grin. “A little cliché, perhaps, but I can’t think of a better way to describe it. Potions are used as wards and healing solutions, right? If all I want to do is keep my friends safe, then that’s all I need.”
Zecora nodded in understanding and stared off into the distance. Then something strange happened. Her smile vanished, replaced with a blank stare. When she turned her attention back to me, her voice was cautious,
“I see a young one come to me for aid,
Yet something causes his integrity to fade.
Not with conviction do your words ring.
Mark, are you sure you’ve told me everything?”
“I… Don’t know what you mean.” I faltered. “Are you saying I’m not telling the truth? You don’t think I want to ‘protect and serve’ my friends? That doesn’t make any sense. Of course I do!” The zebra’s eyes unfocused once more, but they came back just like before. “You don’t believe me...”
“On the contrary, that I do,
But it seems it is yourself who doesn’t believe you.”
“Now that’s just being silly. How could I pull that off? I’ve known me my whole life, so shouldn’t I know when I’m lying? Or is this a part of your test? Do I need to be able to show conviction?” I tried to laugh, but all that came out of my chest was a tight cough. Zecora’s face remained as passive as ever. I opened my mouth to reiterate my request, but she cut me off,
“Twilight told me of your case.
A creature with no aura trace.
Her tests have not come to fruition,
But perhaps you could use a second opinion.”
“What does that have to do with taking me on as a pupil?” I asked as my host got up and began trotting around her hut.
“Magic or potions can take their toll.
I’m curious about the fitness of your soul.
Before we can move on to the rest,
You need to have your spirit test.”
“Oh, so you’ll train me after all?” My shoulders melted with relief as I released a lungful of air I didn’t know I’d been holding. The zebra shook her head.
“Learning the arcane is not easy, young man.
First, we must find out if you can.”
“Ugh… Whatever, fine! Let’s see what kind of tests you’ve got for me.” The tension returned to my shoulders, but I decided to play along. Twilight Sparkle hadn’t mentioned going through any application process to train with Zecora, but I didn’t have much time to worry about that as the zebra began her trials.
To this day, I’m still not sure what half of those exercises were or even if Zecora was just making me do weird things for her amusement. (After all, crazy hermits don’t really have cable.) Whereas a regular doctor would ask me to perform breathing exercises, Zecora told me to blow out a candle. Instead of balancing exercises, she told me to touch the surface of a pool of water. Instead of checking my flexibility, she asked me what color a bunch of wind chimes sounded like and in lieu of an eye exam she asked me what emotion a flavor of fruit reminded me of. One of the most bizarre tests was when she tossed me a wooden ball and asked me what it was.
“I don’t understand the question.” I replied, rolling the object from one hand to the other. “It’s a sphere, all right, made of a heavy dark wood. If I knew more about lumber, I might be able to identify what exactly it’s made of, but for now, I’m guessing oak. Someone clearly put a lot of time into making it, as I can’t detect any flaw in its shape and its surface was obviously polished. It’s too big to be a baseball and too small to be a bowling ball and too big to be a croquet ball and too small to be a soccer ball. Not to mention, I always wondered if the varying rings in the wood are indicative of different densities. If that’s the case, then its center of mass might not actually be its geometric center. I give up, Zecora, what is it?”
“Why ask me what it is, instead,
When it is exactly everything you have said?”
“Rrgh!” I rolled my eyes and grumbled as the zebra retrieved the orb and put it on a shelf.
“One last question we shouldn’t miss,
Do you know what color your soul is?” Zecora peered into her cauldron.
“No. Twilight said that was the next test we could do, but we got discouraged before we tried it.” Fortunately, my host had a draught for that. She handed me a small clay vial filled with a clear liquid that glinted with a faint white light. According to her, it was a tonic designed to shift the drinker’s perception into the realm of the ethereal. In layman’s terms, it would let me see spirits a la Maka Albarn. Zecora and I both quickly swallowed the strange mixture and then waited.
At first, the only difference I saw was that the room grew brighter. The light from the room’s lamps faded, but the walls of the hut began flickering with tiny motes of golden light. A shiver of excitement prickled my skin as I realized that I was looking at sap moving through the living tree. I quickly looked down at myself to see that all my own body was pulsing with orange fire. My skin pulsed with a web of neon veins, a radiant network of molten metal, while a ghostly afterimage rose into the air around me. It wasn’t very prominent, but I was as certain as death and taxes that it was an aura of some kind.
“Looks like I got a blood transfusion with a Chernobyl survivor. Or maybe this is what happens when you listen to too much rave! Remind me to warn Vinyl… Hehe! This is so cool.” I waved my arm through the air, admiring the ribbons of amber light left in their wake. Then I looked up to see Zecora’s transformation. Unlike myself, her body had a wave of tea green flames enveloping it. Their tongues pulsed slowly, like breaths of steam, and her eyes were a pair of lanterns.
She quickly crossed the room, leaving a verdant comet trail behind her, and snatched up my hand. My earlier amusement dissipated as I watched her carefully scrutinize the whispy light that enveloped me. She bore the expression of an accountant whose numbers didn’t quite add up or a miser who’d suddenly lost a coin. Suddenly, she slapped my arm and a wave of electricity flickered throughout my body.
She muttered something in her native tongue.
“What’s wrong?” My arm remained caught between her iron hooves.
“A perplexing mystery you’ve brought and more.
I’ve never seen magic like this before.
Conflicting waves wrestle within you,
Each trying to be the one shining through.
It is this never ending strife
That muddles your aura, though you’re alive.
Now answer me, Mark, for better or worse,
When were you afflicted with such a curse?” The great green eyes leered up at me.
“Curse?” I stepped back, allowing my arm to fall out of the zebra’s forelegs. “I’ve never been cursed. Well, ok, that’s a lie. Discord cursed me, but we broke that one, so I’m myself again. I know what it feels like to be out of sorts, so unless I’ve been cursed my whole life, I feel pretty normal right now.” I put on an easy smile and tried to shake off the implication, but Zecora clearly wasn’t convinced. I stammered, “But that wouldn’t make any sense. After all, Earth doesn’t have any magic in the first place! Right…?”
“Very well,” She didn’t push the issue, “Perhaps all is as you say,
And I’ll adjust my conclusion another way.”
“I’m kind of surprised. I was convinced that my soul would be an electric blue, like in Soul Eater, or even a nice purple, not this Goku knockoff.” My words belied how tickled I was to actually be doing something semi-magical. As the potion wore off, I continued trailing light from my fingertips, painting sunsets in the air. I couldn’t wait to tell Twilight what Zecora and I had found and wondered why the little unicorn’s tests weren’t able to see what the zebra’s could.
“You know, if my spirit’s got multiple wavelengths, then that might explain why Twilight Sparkle’s vitagraph kept shorting out. It was designed for one wavelength, like direct current electricity, but if I’m a creature with compound polarity, then the machine wouldn’t know what to do with it. A. C. instead of D. C. Not that that’s a problem. I always did like Tesla better than Edison!” The tonic wore off and I found myself standing in Zecora’s humble hut once more. My host herself was having a staring contest with her reflection in a fresh cup of tea. I asked, “So, what have we learned? That I do have some semblance of aura, after all? Good to know. What else did you find?”
Zecora paused before answering, her eyes never leaving her cup. Slowly, she explained,
“Any student must reflect and try
To find out where their talents lie.
You asked to learn potions from me,
And now I’ve seen your personality.”
“Yes?” With wide eyes and bated breath, I reclaimed my seat across from the zebra.
“Your reason for studying will make you skills flower,
Is it for order, healing, freedom, or power?
The road of stone, water, wind, or fire,
You learn best by what you most desire.
I see the path that you naturally use,
But I’ll ask once more, which affinity would you choose?”
“I remember this, it was in Twilight’s books. The four philosophies of magic, the four schools of thought that motivate a magician. Personally, I’ve always seen myself as unwavering, unflinching, reliable and steady. So, ‘stone’ for me. But kindness, compassion and sympathy are incredibly noble traits, so I’d be ok with ‘water’ too. And how can you say no to the freedom magic gives you? The thrill of exploration, the need to chase horizons, the means to rise above everything that holds you down or holds you back? ‘Wind’ would be my first choice if it didn’t imply that I had a ADHD anarchist streak in me.”
“In your mind, you hold these three higher,
But why do you not speak of ‘fire’?”
“Really?” I guffawed. “That’s the villain’s element. Bowser, Sauron, Smaug, Fireman.exe, Sephiroth, Diablo, Grima, Hades, the Fire Nation, need I go on? They all had one thing in common: playing with matches! They all put themselves first, were oblivious to the pain they spread around, and sacrificed their humanity in their lust for power. No, sorry, I don’t sympathize with that.”
“Perhaps this is why your problems arise.
Your own affinity is misunderstood in your eyes.”
“I mean, you could make the argument that there’s nothing wrong with being a hothead. If I had to guess, Rainbow Dash probably has a ‘fire’ or ‘wind’ affinity, judging by the way she dive-kicked that dragon in the face. Brave, but foolish. I find I have more in common with Applejack and- Wait, what did you say about me?” I looked up at Zecora in surprise, but her dark eyes merely watched as realization dawned on me. When her words finally sunk in, they left me unbalanced and confused. Cautiously, I tried to clarify, “Did you just say I’m a ‘fire’?”
“You are a soul who can’t find rest.
The flames of passion burn in your chest.
Your battle with Discord was surely rough,
But to you, even victory is not enough.
You boil now with angry tears,
And look for strength to qualm your fears.
A soldier asking for my power to be his,
If this isn’t ‘fire’, I don’t know what is.”
“But that’s not… No, you’re wrong.” My fingers curled and uncurled. “I came here because I wanted to help the girls, remember? Not satisfy some power-hungry greed.”
“Desiring power is not a sin,
But there’s a greater danger I find you’re in.
I would lend you my aid right now and here,
But I can’t until your motives become clear.
Deep into your heart, you must delve,
And discover why you’re lying to yourself.
Go in peace with this admonition,
And return when you’re found your solution.”
I let a few beats pass as the air swallowed the last of Zecora’s words. I could tell by her posture and the way her eyes hovered over me that the conversation was over. She wasn’t going to teach me her trade. Not until I could come up with an answer that would satisfy her. With measured, deliberate movements, I pushed myself up from the table and reached for my survival kit.
“I see… Very well, ma’am. Thank you for your time.” Zecora didn’t even watch me as I pulled open the door and ducked outside.
The fresh forest air struck my face like a wet cloth as I closed the latch behind me. With each lung full I swallowed, my buzzing thoughts slowly quieted and I returned to the realm of reality. Back in the cottage had been a confusing ramble of ‘affinities’, ‘auras’, and bizarre jousts of philosophy, but once outside, I could feel the tangible world come back into focus.
The meeting hadn’t gone at all as I’d hoped it would. If that emotional wringer was the entry test that Zecora put all her new students through, then it was no wonder she still lived alone. I had come to her for aid, but had been slapped with a moral quandary instead. All I ever wanted was to help and heal the people around me, that was the guide by how I measured my worth in the world, but Zecora had refused to believe me. Instead, she was convinced that my interest in the arcane arts was to feed some imaginary crusade I had against my own inconsequentiality, and she refused to become my instructor until I agreed with her.
“I could always just tell her what she wants to hear.” I thought to myself. But I shook my head. Zecora wasn’t the kind of pony who could be easily deceived. If she wanted to trick herself into believing something that wasn’t real, that was her problem, but she wouldn’t let a kid like me deceive her so easily.
There was no rush to get back to Ponyville. ‘Lesson Zero’ wouldn’t be over until evening, and I could comfortably hide in the forest until the credits rolled. Without Harry ambling alongside me, the forest felt strangely open and wild. The feeling of leaving behind the extra security the bear provided was both daunting and exciting.
I wandered, aimlessly killing time until I came to the edge of a slow stretch of river. The water was grey under the shadows of the trees, glinting like polished granite while tiny leaves sailed by on its surface. With a sigh, I unshouldered my bag and withdrew a satchel of dried fruit. The scene was so quiet, so empty, and so peaceful that I quickly slipped under the whispers of its lullaby.
“I could get used to this.” I nodded decisively. “I don’t know why Zecora’s so convinced that I’m a… what did she call me? A soldier? Please, I find this scene suits me far better than a battlefield. This is more indicative of a poetic or artistic vein in me. A man of peace, that’s what I strive to be. So, how come that didn’t come across to Zecora?”
I yawned and stretched my arms. My eyes lingered on my hand as I re-envisioned the magic pulsing beneath my skin. Granted, it had been orange, a bloody orange, but color alone wasn’t enough to judge a pony’s personality by. Using that logic, Trixie would have the same personality as Twilight, Flim and Flam would be the similar to Queen Chrysalis, and Tirek would be like, well… me.
“Pshh!” I grunted as I pushed the useless thought away. Leaning over the grassy bank of the river, I confronted my reflection. Unfortunately, he seemed to be just as confused as I.
“So?” I asked, “Do you have anything you’d like to share with the class? Any reason Zecora thinks you’re hiding something?”
“No, not really, no.” At least I didn’t look like I was lying.
“Lying…” I turned the word over in my mouth like a never ending gobstopper. “You know, she’s not the first one to accuse me of lying to myself.”
“Yeah, but Discord doesn’t count. He was just trying to get in your head.”
“Seems like a pretty elaborate prank just to wig someone out. Remember, at first, he called his curse a ‘favor’.”
“And what if he was making a point? What did you learn from that scenario?”
“We already answered this. It was to prove how powerless I was to stop him, right?”
“Right? Is that uncertainty I hear?” My reflection narrowed his eyes. “What else did you learn that day? Who were you without your inhibition? How would you describe your personality?”
“I’d describe you as a prick!” I huffed, causing the surface of the water to ripple. I waited a moment to remind myself that I was getting worked up yelling at a puddle before continuing, “I learned that I’m loud, obnoxious, manipulative, rude, emotional, and have a short temper, but my heart was still in the right place.”
“So, subtlety, meekness, honesty, respect, self-control, and restraint, all the things you thought you found identity in, are actually the opposite of your instincts, is that about right?” A stunned silence fell upon the scene.
“You know? I really hate it when you make a god point.”
“Really? I rather enjoy it!”
“But if I’m not the portrait of chivalry I thought I was, then what am I?”
Leave it to life to provide a dumb answer to a dumb question.
I only heard it at first. The sound of something big rustling from across the water. My eyes snapped up and quickly swept the far shore for the source of the disturbance, but all I saw were brown tree trunks and the mottled green undergrowth. My heart seized in my chest as I realized that the undergrowth was walking.
It was big. Even a creature as tall as I barely stood above the shoulder of one of the Everfree’s infamous timberwolves. The horse-sized predator moved like a wrinkle in space, its patchwork hide of sticks and leaves a perfect blend with its environment. It patrolled the far side of the river, face to the ground as if following a scent, but devoid of breath in its nostrils.
“This isn’t good.” Blood coursed through my arteries and the hairs on my arms rose, but my body remained shock-still. I measured out each breath, holding back the terror coursing through me like a musher restraining his dogs. The entity hadn’t detected me yet or, if it had, let me know it. My hand floated out and clamped onto my fire rod.
Then I smelled it. Spike had once described the timberwolf’s miasma as ‘bad breath’, but that would imply that the animated amalgamation of rotten logs and broken branches possessed a pair of lungs. Instead, the stench that assaulted me was more indicative of wet sawdust and rotten leaves. And death. This monster of wood and magic emanated an aura that pressed beyond reason into the realm of my primitive instincts; that of pure, unbridled, irrational, malice.
Timberwolves needed no prey. They feared no wounds. They owned no territory. Whereas the predators of Earth were mortal flesh and bone, I was facing little more than a nightmare come to life. Bears, cougars, foxes and wild dogs all shared a mutual fear and respect for humans. Equestria’s monsters played by no such rules.
“Why here? Why now?” A torrent of thoughts rushed behind my unblinking eyes. Although Applejack would often take Big Mack and I to patrol the boarder of Sweet Apple acres, we’d only ever seen a misplaced branch or perhaps a footprint. “Zecora had mentioned the monsters getting restless, but if these things are wandering this close to Ponyville, it’s a wonder none of them have roamed onto the Apple farm. Or Fluttershy’s cottage.” I softly unsheathed a pair of matches, held them against the striker, and prepared myself for the worst-case scenario.
A line of twigs bristled along the entity’s spine as it suddenly halted. It lifted its head, tasted the air, and turned its yellow-green eyes on me.
“So, what will it be?” I stared back down the pair of burning lanterns. “Are you going to keep walking? Or do I need to go ‘Jungle Book’ on your hide?” Even without lips, the creature snarled and revealed rows of lethal splinters. The silence of the forest was broken by a resounding roar ripped strait from ‘Jurassic Park’.
“Suit yourself.” I ripped the matches across their box and ‘man’s red flower’ blossomed in my hands. I stood to my full height with my lantern sputtering in my white-knuckled grip while my chest rose and fell with deep, patient breaths. Across the water, the timberwolf didn’t stand down. Instead, it waited patiently while two more scrap-wood dogs emerged from the underbrush, summoned by the challenge. My eyes lit with defiance and I locked my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering, but the result curled into a twisted smile. A nervous laugh shook my shoulders.
“Oh, now it’s a party.”
As one, the creatures vanished back into the cover of the woods. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear their pieces rattling through the forest and I could smell their malice drawing nearer. I couldn’t run. There was no place to run to. There was no safety to be found hiding in the forest and my legs couldn’t outpace those hellhounds. My only advantage was the fact that they had avoided the river. Perhaps their bodies were too fragile or perhaps they didn’t like the open space, it didn’t matter. It was the only ‘high ground’ I had. Soon enough, they were on my side of the water. With a skittering noise like an army of marionettes, the three figures crept up behind me.
I put my back to the river while six glowing eyes inched ever closer. Two wolves crept up on me from the right and left while the third, a massive brute with a head fashioned from an old stump, stared directly at me. To my surprise, I laughed at them.
“What? Is this the part where I call you a ‘clever girl’? Think you have me in a checkmate? Well, too bad,” The center wolf opened its jaws, “Because I’m about to kick over the chessboard!”
The next fractured seconds were an eternity. The wolf to my right lunged towards me just as I swung my fire rod. I remember the halo of fire the lantern spit, I remember how the orange flames blossomed in the wolve’s faces, and I remember the fear. I was overwhelmed with fear, but instead of freezing my limbs, the fear empowered them. Every blade of grass, every ripple of water, every tree leaf was thrown into crystal clear clarity as time slowed around me.
Wooden jaws clamped down on my survival bag as I spun away from my attacker. I lowered my shoulder, and pulled against the fabric and the wooden teeth snagged within. With barely a hint of slowing, I tore the monster’s head clean off its shoulders.
The wolf to my left flinched under my lantern’s onslaught and I dove into it with all the power and fury I could muster. With a shout, my foot lanced forward, catching one of its thin legs and ripping it from the body. It stumbled and I thrust my fire rod into its face. With a squealing yelp, the monster leapt back, blindly trying to flee from the flames that stuck to its eyes.
Then it was the alpha’s turn. The center wolf pulled its strength together and leapt into the air, bringing the full weight of its massive body down on me. I put both hands on my feeble rod and swung it like a sword into my attacker’s neck. The lantern split, bathing both myself and the wolf in bright yellow flames. In the next instance, a half-quart of wood collapsed on top of me. I fell back, but not onto the shore. I and the alpha tumbled into the silver river.
The cold water stunned me more than that flames did. My vision was nothing but blurry shadows and muddled light. I clawed away at the chunks of wood surrounding me until my head finally broke the surface. The timberwolves’ attack had only taken three seconds, but what I found when I came out of the water looked like the aftermath of a war.
One wolf was still stumbling around without its head. The sounds of the second could barely be made out fleeing into the distance and the third was nothing more than a mixture of muddy water and floating debris. I wiped oil and leaves from my forehead and trudged back to shore. After stopping only long enough to kick over the headless body and retrieve my survival kit from its discarded jaws, I began running back towards Ponyville.
“I’d call that a success.” Dripping wet and covered in bruises, I felt nothing but elation. “Learned a lot from that exchange. Though immortal, their bodies are easily pulled apart. They are, in fact, terrified of fire. And (oddly enough) they rebuild themselves slower when their pieces are in water.” Even though I had just barely wriggled out from between the jaws of death, I was emotionally higher than the Burj Khalifa. I wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, and wanted to share my victory with someone, anyone, as soon as possible. Ponyville was just a little bit safer now, but that was merely the cherry on top. If I were honest, I’d even go so far as to say that I’d been looking forward to that fight for a long time. Victory over the creatures I long feared was sweeter than honey. I proudly gazed down at the fire rod still frozen to my hand.
And all the emotions fell silent.
I didn’t see the rod. I didn’t see the lantern or the stick or even the pale hand that remained glued to it. In a twisted, uncanny, and unfair way, I saw my answer. I saw who I was. I set my feet towards Zecora’s and redoubled my pace.
“It has not been that long since I last saw your face.
Tell me, did you forget something here at my pl-” When Zecora saw me stagger back through her door, her rhyme died on her tongue. I couldn’t blame her, though. In the span of an hour, I’d drenched myself in mud, slathered myself in lantern oil, collected a plethora of scratches, and soiled my clothes, but I think what really shocked her was the look in my eyes. A grim, unashamed, and resentful light poured from my face.
With a flick of my hand, I tossed the remains of my fire rod onto her table as if it were a snake. Slowly, she looked down at the object and then back up to me.
“You wanted an answer.” I explained. “Well, there it is.”
“I can tell you discovered something by the way your words sound.
Speak and I’ll listen. Let’s hear what you’ve found.”
“It’s a lantern.” I gestured at the twisted metal between us. “Or, it used to be. It used to be something innocent, a light that pushed back the night, a comforting glow. That is, until I got a hold of it and turned it into a weapon. But that’s just me. That’s just what I do. Just being human…” My nose wrinkled in disgust, but I continued,
“Mine is a world of war, Zecora. Since the first humans were born on Earth, they’ve done nothing but try and kill each other. Stones, bronze, iron, steel, my very race has been defined by how we take each other's lives. And we will never stop because we do it all in the name of peace. Peace! Can you imagine a greater contradiction than the idea of killing someone for the sake of harmony? But we do, and the only semblance of safety my world has ever found is when our weapons became so lethal that their use would mean complete and mutual annihilation…” My breath came in shivers.
“Personally? I hate it. I hate that that’s what I was born to be a part of. I hate my inheritance. So I rebelled. My world has suffered enough, has too much hate, and too much pain in it already, so I refused to contribute. I tried to live a fairy tale and change it one person at a time, starting with the man in the mirror. I don’t cuss, I don’t lie, I don’t insult people, and treat everyone as if they are precious. I treat each soul with respect they don’t deserve because my mission in life is to prove to myself and the people around me that chivalry isn’t dead and the evil in the world has no hold on me. But it’s still a war.”
“You asked me what kind of curse I was under? Only the curse of my bipolar human spirit. A pony is either good or evil, there is little in-between. Heck, Princess Luna had to don a completely new personality in order to become Nightmare Moon, but humans? Our right hand can heal in the exact same moment our left hand wounds. Good men do evil things for the ‘right’ reasons and evil men do righteous deeds for ‘ulterior motives’! We, no, I am a living paradox. I am a creature of conflict from a land of conflict and harbor conflict inside of me. Until I finally sleep six feet under, peace is a mere fantasy. And I was convinced that that was my fate.”
“However, I found something. Something beautiful. A land called ‘Equestria’. In it, there is no war, there is no bloodshed, and evil has finally been defeated. The world I always wished for, but never expected to see was right before me. And I envied it. I was jealous of it. I was confused by it. But it made me happy. Perhaps that’s why I became a brony, so that I could glimpse this world from a distance and pretend, if just for a moment, that a real, lasting peace was possible for Earth.” My knees became weak, but instead of sitting, I began pacing the floor defiantly.
“But even here, I can’t escape my curse. I can’t escape it because I brought it with me. As it turns out, I am the war that I wanted to escape. When Nightmare Moon threatened Twilight Sparkle’s life, I didn’t call for ‘peace’ and ‘harmony’, I chucked a rock at her skull! When Discord took away the ‘noble’ persona that I’d created for myself, all that was left was a bloodthirsty animal! It took me all of two seconds to turn a mop into a spear! I fought and bit Rarity and tried to choke out Rainbow Dash and I kicked Fluttershy off an airship! Little Fluttershy! I kicked her! That alone is enough to put me on every ‘villain’ list in the multiverse!” I wiped a hand across my face and stared back at Zecora.
“And you’re right. I’m not a defender, or a healer, or an explorer. I’m a fighter. Fighting comes naturally to me. I don't know how to dance, I learned karate. I don't know how to sew, I know how a gun works. I don't know how to bake, I collect knives. When I told you I wanted to ‘protect and serve’ my friends, I was trying to get you to sympathize with my request. After all, your potions ward off monsters and heal injuries, so I figured that if I said I was going to do the same thing, you’d gladly teach me your skills. In all honesty, though, my definition of ‘protect and serve’ involves actively standing between my friends and any filthy dastard who would dare lay a hand on them! If I’m being completely honest, my first line of ‘potions’ would probably involve a line of Molotov cocktails as anti-timberwolf weapons.”
The hut fell into silence. I remained standing, breathing heavily, while Zecora weighed my claims. Her eyes unfocused while she digested my oration and she tilted her head ever so slightly. I muttered,
“I… That was pretty emotional, but I think it needed to be said. I understand if you don’t want to train me after this. As it stands, I’m no hero and I’m not going to pretend I’m one any more. What motivates me is fear plain and simple. Fear that I’m too weak, fear that I can’t fight, fear that my weakness will k-… will kill my friends. They are the only good thing that has happened to me and I will defend them with everything I am. I will gladly break my bones to defend them and fight armed with nothing but my teeth and fists, but if that’s all I’m good for, so be it. I promise you, I will never stop fighting. Your potions would only be another weapon. This is who Mark really is. This is my answer.”
More silence. I shifted from foot to foot, but Zecora’s eyes didn’t return to me. With the break in conversation growing larger and more awkward, I figured there was nothing more to be said. I picked up the remains of my fire rod and turned towards the door. But the mysterious hermit wasn’t done with me quite yet,
“So quick are you to be on your way?
Will you not first hear what I have to say?”
“What more is there?” I shook my head without looking back. “In the end, I’m just a fighter looking for more power.”
“What you’ve said is true, my friend,
But this is not how the story will end.” A black and white stripped foreleg pulled at my hand, turning me around. Zecora quietly gestured to a shelf, the same one that I had seen her shuffling pots around on earlier in the day. One of them, a deep red vase, held a flower in it that I hadn’t noticed before. It had a single narrow stalk sprouting from a cluster of long narrow leaves and crowned with white petals filled with delicate golden stamen.
“Is that-”
“This is the secret I was taught in my youth.
Before taking an apprentice, they must nurture the Seeds of Truth.
When you came to me earlier, they would not grow,
So I needed you to discover why this was so.
You carry a burden within your heart,
But if you’re willing, you can still play your part.”
“What are you saying?” I kept staring at the white flower. “I can’t become your apprentice. I’ve got the wrong motivation, the wrong background and the wrong ‘affinity’.”
“A spirit of fire itself is not an evil thing,
Do not lanterns, into darkness, a little comfort bring?
You fear for your friends, as well you should.
But you’ve never fought for evil but only for good.
When Twilight Sparkle was alone and afraid,
A single human rushed to her aid.
That same lone human, did not turn away,
When an ursa came to town, he ran into the fray.
You’ve lied to yourself about your motives before,
But embrace who you are and I’ll help you become more.
I see not a villain, hungry only for power,
But the seeds of a hero, getting ready to flower.”
“You… You’d still trust me, even after everything?” I stammered. Even with my motives laid bare, even after glimpsing what a flawed and confused character I was, Zecora still tried to comfort me and help me. I realized then that what mattered to her wasn’t how the potions would be used in the future, but the soul of person wielding them. She wasn’t a fool, though,
“I’ll train you to the best of my ability,
But I have some conditions you must promise me.
As an ember for warmth can become wild flame,
You must always strive to keep your own powers tame.
The fear that guides you, though noble at the start,
Can corrupt your motives if you do not watch your heart.
Stay close to your friends, they’re the only way
You’ll stay true to yourself and not wander astray.
Promise me this and I’ll ask but one thing in return.
Share with me your studies, what you find, what you learn.”
“Sensei, you have a deal.” On a knife’s edge between laughing and crying, I took Zecora’s foreleg in my hand and shook it.
At first, Twilight Sparkle was jealous to find that she’d be sharing her only student, but eventually, she was forced to admit that I had made a wise decision since I couldn’t study conventional magic the way she did. I threw myself into the mystic sciences, fanning my former hobby into a full-on second job. Yet, I kept my promise to Zecora and always put my friend’s time above my own.
With every picnic, every party, every rodeo, teaparty and carnival, I solidified my resolve for studying magic while at the same time warding off my constant fear of the future. I continued growing closer to the girls until I was convinced that nothing life threw at us could break my trust in them.
At least, that’s what I told myself. A few months after Zecora took me as an apprentice, I ‘slipped’ for the first time.
It was during ‘Secret of My Excess’. In the wake of Spike’s, well… let’s just call them ‘growing’ pains, I proposed that a counteragent be found that could prevent the baby dragon from having a similar episode in the future. (Not unlike Professor Lupin’s anti-werewolf potion.) Twilight Sparkle and Zecora both agreed that this was an inspired idea, though I didn’t tell them what had inspired it. All they knew was that I had collected the scales that the Wonderbolts had knocked off the dragon’s head and wanted them to isolate the rogue magic wavelength that had triggered his runaway emotional cascade.
There were six scales: two to Zecora, two to Twilight Sparkle (one of which went into Spike’s baby book), one to the little dragon himself as a memento,
And one to my own pocket.