Zecora's Redemption

by The Mountaineer Brony

Ghosts of the Past

That next day, the Equestrian delegates found themselves exploring the town square; while Spike was busy taking pictures of the royal palace from various angles, Twilight sat out front, talking with Zecora. Even though she'd insisted that she didn't need to, Zecora was appreciative of the company, and Twilight didn't mind missing out on a few things if it meant cheering up a friend.

Glancing skyward, the sun was nearly overhead; Zecora reminded Twilight of how she'd wanted to treat everypony to lunch. Twilight looked down at an oversized sundial on her fetlock, a curio she'd bought in an antique shop and insisted on wearing, and indeed, it was approaching noon. She cast a magic spell, a quick glowing pulse from her horn, accompanied by a message to meet in the town square. Not long after, her friends slowly came trickling in to meet her.

"You know it's super weird hearing you in my head, right?" said Rainbow Dash, annoyed.

"And dear, while I won't discourage your trying out of experimental spells, please do refrain from the ones that give me a splitting headache." Rarity added politely.

"Sorry everypony." Twilight said with a chuckle. "Next time I'll just come looking for you instead."

"I was in the bathhouse, Twilight! It's super-duper fun in there!' Pinkie jubilantly proclaimed. "Just look at how bouncy my mane is!" The pink pony shook her freshly washed mane, pink curls springing about like tightly-wound coils set free.

"So, everypony," Spike interjected "where are we having lunch?"

Rarity chuckled and bumped her flank into Applejack's.

"Perhaps we should look for some of those 'fruit thingies'?"

"Or maybe they'll have some of that soup." Fluttershy teased Rainbow Dash. Both ponies in question turned bright red, resenting the mention of their drunken stupor at the banquet two nights prior.

Before Twilight could rattle off a fact sheet about Zebrican cuisine, a loud noise came from behind her: the sound of horns, accompanied by the opening of heavy wooden doors. A line of guards stood at attention as Princess Marwe stepped into the courtyard and a town crier announced the deliverance of an important message from Her Majesty.

Though already tall as zebras go, Marwe stepped up onto a crate the crier had set out so that she could be seen clearly above the crowd. Though even without a procession of guards, seeing her wouldn't have been a hard task. The blue-blooded zebra was decked out in golden jewelry: hoop earrings, neck rings, bracelets, and a resplendent bib necklace, a solid plate of gold inlaid with gems of all colors, glistening brightly, nearly blindingly, in the sunlight of noonday. The simple wooden crown she'd worn when within her own court had been replaced by a massive golden one, decorated with myriad feathers of exotic birds, along with even more gems. The cloak she wore trailed behind her; it was a light green, almost celadon, interwoven with peacock feathers. Its silken texture was astounding in the sunlight, and, if one looked carefully, tiny emeralds could be seen adorning the neckline.

Rarity did all she could to steady her knocking knees and stay conscious. Noticing a tear forming in her eye, Applejack wiped it away with a gentle hoof. Twilight and Zecora could overhear zebras talking around them, saying that Marwe almost never dressed extravagantly, and when she did, it was for something crucially important.

"Excuse me, my subjects, please listen and stay." Marwe began, her voice projecting throughout the square. "I have dire news to deliver this day."

The zebras all murmured amongst themselves; Twilight and Zecora shared nervous glances.

"From times long ago, history's long-forgotten scar, an old threat has returned to harm Zanzebrar."

Zecora pulled her hood tightly over her head. Surely this was some kind of public denunciation.

"From the south, death and destruction he brings: I speak of Soumaoro, the sorcerer-king."

Everyzebra gasped aloud. Even Zecora glanced up in surprise. Soumaoro? Wasn't he just a legend made to scare small foals? Even as she looked around, she could see elder zebras shaking their heads in despair... could they be remembering true events?

"As we speak, he brings an army to our city. For young or for old, he shows no pity. He wields countless soldiers from the Kingdom of Neightal, and with them, he seeks to make all of Zebrica fall. His army stops not to sleep or to feast; they will be at our gates in one week, at least. That's why I encourage anyzebra who can to enlist, to fight, help us make our stand! No stallion or mare will be turned away if they wish to aid the fight on our judgment day. Soldiers, medics, and mages, all are desired, though feel free to help in any way you're inspired. If we band together, for one and for all, we shall stamp out evil, and Soumaoro will fall!"

Some members of the crowd let up a cheer, though most still seemed fairly concerned. After her speech, Marwe turned to Twilight, telling her that she and the delegates were not required to get involved if they did not wish to; it wasn't their war, after all. The six ponies discussed it amongst themselves briefly, and decided that since they stood by Zecora, they would stand by her homeland as well. Marwe gave her solemn thanks, and returned back to her palace.

"I can't say I've ever heard of Soumaoro before, Zecora." Twilight said, turning again. "Although, then again, I'm only really well-read in ancient Equestrian sorcerers."

"Indeed, I thought him only a legend, 'til now." Zecora said, still taking in what the princess had said. "He is someone the zebras would rather forget about."

"Well, I think I'm going to find a library and read up on some history." Twilight said, determination in her voice. "Spike, do you think you can--"

"Uh, Twilight?" The dragon interrupted. "Zecora hasn't taught you how to read Zebrish script yet."

"...eh-heheheh…" Twilight chuckled sheepishly.

---

Upon their return to his hut that evening, Sundiata informed his guests that he was in the reserves for the city militia, and would likely be called to serve. Nuru said that she wished to assist the medical corps during the conflict; her brother forbade it, but it didn't sound like she was dissuaded from doing so. When asked what she was going to do, Zecora simply said that she didn't know. Inside, she was conflicted: she wanted to preserve this city, her home, yet she wanted to keep her friends safe as well. At the same time, she felt as though her people didn't want her any longer, and so didn't think herself obligated to do anything. She wasn't even sure Marwe could forgive her long enough to let her help.

Late that night, Zecora crept away once more to her former, ruined village.

On the outskirts, she found her slowly collapsing hut and her mother's dirt-mound grave.

She solemnly put a hoof to the humble tomb as she read the decaying wooden marker.

Zecora sighed deeply. "<Mother... I am sorry... but I need to tell our story. I must right my wrong if I am to save this land we held dear.>"

Without another word, Zecora sat upon her flanks next to the grave and began to meditate. It wasn't long before she was asleep.

"Now, Princess Luna... I am ready to speak of my past."

"Shall we start at the beginning?"

"Indeed."

---

Zecora never knew her father.

And, from what she'd gathered as she matured, neither did her mother.

In fact, her parents had only met briefly, in the dark of the night on the streets of Zanzebrar, when he dragged her into an alleyway and forced himself upon her.

Despite the circumstances, her mother had chose to raise the filly as best she could, and about a year later, Zecora was born in the very same hut she sat next to, dreaming. Even though this was a child born out of wedlock to a dirt-poor mother with no living relatives, the little village accepted them both as their own.

Zecora's childhood was spartan, but enjoyable. She didn't have much, and didn't need much. She and her mother entertained one another by telling stories, either ones from lore, or ones they made up on the spot. Magic was another pastime: Zecora's mother was, by trade, a healer, and from her youngest years, Zecora learned at her mother's knee how to treat the ailments of the village zebras. They were always nice to her mother, and often brought her baskets laden with food; as a filly, Zecora thought that this was some form of payment for treatment rendered, but in fact, she later learned, it was simply generosity towards a poor single mother.

Generosity. Kindness. Magic. Long before Zecora ever met Rarity, Fluttershy, or Twilight Sparkle, she became familiar with these Elements of Harmony. She and her mother treated the ailing simply because it was the right thing to do, never asking for anything in return. They used the magic inherent in earthbound creatures, plants, and the earth itself to do so. And the kindness they received from their neighbors was evident, in word and in deed. It was because of them that Zecora was able to visit the theatre with her mother each year on her birthday: the zebras of the village started a fund to give the filly a present.

In dreaming, Zecora wiped a tear from her eye. Had it not been for the goodwill of others, Zecora and her mother might've been far worse off.

Suddenly, sunlight struck Zecora's eyelids, and she awoke. It was morning.

She had spent the whole night by her mother's side.

"Perhaps we'll pick this up again another night." She could hear Luna's voice echoing in her head as the Princess of the Night, across the globe, tucked herself into bed.

With a smile and a chuckle, Zecora stood, brushing her mane with a hoof, and sweeping the sandy earth from her rump with her tail. She gave one last pat to her mother, then proceeded slowly back towards civilization.

Author's Note:

If one of you shows me an adorable filly Zecora, I will squee.

Comments

[hyreia]

derpicdn.net/img/view/2014/5/31/641387.png
Squee for me bh!