Zebrabwe's Secret

by GMBlackjack

III - Port of Dust

“...I’m not sure this is a sandwich,” Torque said, examining the stack of greenery formed around bread.

“Nonsense! It is magnifique!” Gustave twirled his mustache. “A true master at work with her craft!”

Zecora smirked, tracing her hoof around the leafy exterior of her ‘sandwich’. “Would now be a good time to mention that I was not paying very close attention? The cooking of my kind comes from the spark of the heart, which sometimes means the ingredients do not play their intended part.”

Torque cocked her head. “...How do you possibly make potions like that? Don’t they explode?”

“Regularly, often, and painfully.”

“How do you survive?”

“Carefully.”

Gustave blinked. “Did that rhyme with your previous set or… did it stand alone?”

Zecora gave him a calm, understanding smile, but no vocal response. He shifted around nervously.

“Uh... “ Torque glanced out the window. “Hey, I think we can see that port town ya were talkin’ about.” She jumped back to the airship’s wheel and started steering.

Zecora looked out the window, finding that the land had snuck up on them. Already they were most of the way to the sandy shore of Zebrica: a land comprised mostly of sand with a few rivers and specks of green here and there. The only settlement she could see was situated to the side of a rather small river delta.

This was the last place she had seen before she left her home: the port town of Xor. It was not how Zecora remembered it, to say the least. This wasn’t to say she hadn’t expected it to change—it had been an exceptionally long time since her departure—but it hadn’t changed in the way she predicted. It hadn’t grown much larger, but the simple sandstone buildings had been all but completely replaced with a smooth, brown material. She saw what she thought were smokestacks on many buildings, though none of them were spewing smog into the sky like those she had seen in Equestria or the Storm Islands.

But Zebrica had no industry. Zecora knew this. She was fairly certain she hadn’t been gone long enough for a revolution of that nature to occur, either.

“...What’s wrong?” Torque asked.

“I am uncertain if it is an innate fear of change or if this really is uncomfortably strange.” She squinted her eyes. “I do not see any signs of Zebra life, this may be telling of strife.”

“Am I still landin’ or what?”

“Land,” Zecora said. “I must figure out what happened atop of this sand.”

“Or not,” Gustave suggested. “We could carry on to greener pastures wiz no mysterious towns!”

“I’m landin’,” Torque said, bringing the airship around. “I’m a little curious myself.”

“W-well if you insist…”

With the pull of a lever and a twist of some knobs, the airship descended carefully to the sand below. It was designed to land at airship docks or go for ocean landings, but Torque had determined the desert ground was soft and flat enough to provide a suitable landing pad. In the end, the front of the cabin sunk into the sand slightly, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Torque popped the main door open. “Zebra and gentle-griffon, feast yer eyes on the sands of Zebrica!”

A light wind blew minuscule grains of sand at them.

“Ze ocean was better,” Gustave commented.

“Aw, come on, this is exciting!” Torque held out a hoof and pointed at the sand dunes. “We’ve never seen this land before!”

“It’s getting in my feazers.”

“If you wish to learn our ways, sandy feathers will fill your days,” Zecora commented. “Come now, the town of Xor waits for us no more.”

Before she could take more than a few steps, the sand erupted. Half a dozen Zebras rose, covered hoof to head in armor made from that unusual brown stone that had replaced most of the buildings. All six of them had a ring around their front left hoof that glowed with orange runic markings, and each ring had a pointed tip, not unlike an arrowhead.

They were weapons.

“Surrender your ship!” the lead Zebra shouted. “We don’t want to make this messy.”

“T-t-take it!” Gustave blurted.

“Wot? NO!” Torque Wrench pulled out one of her wrenches. “I’ll fight ya for my girl!”

“An idiot,” the lead Zebra observed. “You should listen to your feathery friend.”

“No, listen to me,” Zecora stamped a hoof. “This is not meant to be. I am Zecora, I stand above your aura. You do not have the right to give these two stress. Unless the world has changed more since I left in a way so deranged it reeks of national theft.”

The Zebras stared at her in shock.

“I wait, but not long. Tell me, where will you take this song?”

“You’re… you’re with the palace…?” a female Zebra asked.

“As I said, Zecora is my name. I was bred with a royal claim.”

The female bowed immediately. “S-so sorry, your Majesty, I—”

“Idiot,” the male interrupted. “Just because she’s talking like a royal doesn’t mean she is one. There are plenty of fakers out there.” He snarled. “Royals don’t come out this far.”

Zecora raised an eyebrow. “Are you willing to take that risk? That your end will be so brisk?”

“...No.” He lowered his leg. “But I’m also not just going to let you go. I want that airship, and I’m not going to let some possibly-fake royal tell me I can’t.”

“You cannot take what is not yours, this airship is most definitely hers.” Zecora pointed at Torque.

“Pfft, you think I care what she thinks is hers? She’s not a Zebra!”

Zecora narrowed her eyes. “What has happened to this land while I have been gone that the first thing we see is a large con?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. What I do know is that I’m taking you to Zebrabwe so ol’ Zo can tell me just how fake you are. Then I’ll get an airship and some money for turning in an imposter.”

“And if I am real, a royal under the peel?”

“Then I eat my hat and go home. Win-win.”

“...Yer takin’ us all, ain’t’cha?” Torque asked.

“Obviously. You could leave with the airship if I didn’t. Now, let’s move it, Zebrabwe’s a long way off, and I don’t like wasting time! Everyone into The Crab!”

“The… Crab?” Gustave asked.

“Yes. The Crab.”

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Well, this bodes ill. We'll get further information soon enough, but this is still a worrisome state of affairs.