Ponyfinder: Potions and Swords

by David Silver

1 - A New Chapter

Zecora slowly stirred the mixture in her cauldron, casting a strange purple glow across the room. "One turn and then two, to create the perfect brew. Not to advance to three." She set the stirrer aside and trotted to fetch another ingredient. "Until there is a sprinkle of these."

With a dash of something new, a great cloud erupted of bright blues and greens, forming a mushroom-like shape as she reached for the stirrer with her mouth to resume her work. "Keep it agitated, keep on stirring--" Not that anyone was around to hear the conclusion of her rhyme. She was as much reminding herself of the steps as anything else, keeping herself company as she slowly assembled the potion.

It was quite the pity that she never got to see the result of that one.

---

A consciousness flew between worlds. Propelled by dissatisfaction, and coming free in the first place, the non-place it found itself in had no air, despite the sensation of wind howling past. There was no space, but it felt like a near infinite amount of it rushing with no end in sight, not that it could see anything.

What it did not know was another spirit was poking free of its home, displaced by barely an inch, but space was not really a construct in that place. A little could be a lot, if things worked out well, or poorly, which depended on the perspective of those involved.

It collided with the protrusion, prevented from going where it had been originally intended to go. A flash of pain in a body that wasn't quite there, just a thought construct, but still capable of knowing what discomfort, pain, was. The thing it had thumped against was flying with it, the two then moving in a new direction.

They were approaching some new world, rushing up to meet them.

---

Zecora sat up, head spinning. That brew had been known to have some mild hallucinatory effects during its creation, but nothing that a trained worker like herself couldn't handle, surely? She rose up to her hooves, looking around. She was not in her hut, nor was any hut in sight. She was in the wilderness. "What sort of place is this?" Was she dreaming it, brought on by the vapors?

"Nnng." A male voice? The bushes rustled as a strange creature sat up, a hand to its head. "That hurt." At least it could talk? It opened his? eyes to look at Zecora. "What?"

"That you are something new, impossible to dismiss." Zecora inclined her head at the creature. Bipedal, suspiciously lacking in hair or fur, though it did have a mane. Male voice, clothed.

Armed.

Her eyes dropped to take measure of that weapon, a large sword dangling from his hips as he stood up. "I mean you no harm, I too share in your alarm." She placed a hoof at her chest with a faint smile. "I know not where we have arrived. I fail to see how what I was doing led to this being contrived."

"Do you always rhyme?" He didn't sound aggravated, smiling a little as he dusted himself off, cloak fluttering in the breeze. "It's kind of cute."

Zecora darkened faintly in a mixture of emotions. "To rhyme comes naturally to me. That we are somewhere new, easy to agree?"

"Yeah..." He turned in place, looking about. "We're somewhere snowy, and I'm talking to a magic horse." His hand went to his blade, not to draw but simply to feel its hilt. "And I have a sword." Clearly that had not always been the case.

"Did you not come with one prepared? If not, I wonder what force it was that shared." Zecora shivered softly, a stiff breeze washing over them. Another step and the crunch of snow beneath her. Wherever they were, it was chilly. "I envy you, my strange new friend, some clothes to ward the cold would not..." She paused to grit her teeth. "--offend."

The human pulled free his black cloak and threw it over Zecora, attaching it around her neck just as quickly. "I have the rest, this'll keep the wind off of you at least. I'm John." That wasn't his original name, but the one he decided to have in the moment.

Zecora raised a hoof, drawing the cloak closer in against herself. "You have my thanks, friend John. Good to see you have more than brawn." Her ears pricked up. "That was rude and I do apologize."

"You're going to rhyme that large word?" He gazed at her with uncertainty, though he seemed to want to see her do it.

Zecora smirked at that, puffing a little with pride. "To insult so quickly, surely is not wise." She nodded with satisfaction, the rhyme complete.

"And there you go." He went stiff just as suddenly. "You hear something?"

Her ears danced, homing in on what he had heard. She nodded without a word and hurried into some scraggly wintery bushes. Her newly given cloak was dark in color, only helping her to blend into it.

With a quick new wave of rustles, John joined her, peering out at what was coming. They didn't have to wait long as some wolves, snowy in pelt, burst into view, sniffing at the air and ground. They separated from one another, circling outwards, though one was moving for them, perhaps having found their scent?

John slid his sword free with what he hoped was a quiet sound. Zecora had no weapons near her hooves, and did not seem ready to join in any battles, watching John instead.

The wolf howled, the others turning quickly at the noise at the same instant it was lunging for the bushes. It did not expect the bushes to have such sharp thorns. Few bushes in its time had thorns of quite that sharpness or length. John had thrust his sword into the chest of the beast as it pounced, much to its displeasure, letting out a cry of pain as he shoved it aside and emerged from the bushes.

"I got this," he said as if he was half convincing himself of the fact rather than comforting anyone else, perhaps the zebra that was watching. "Just let it happen..." He drew a glowing sigil in the air, new and alien sounds emerging from him in a language that neither understood.

Not that the wolves were happy to just give him all the time in the world. They came in at him, one from the left, the other to the right, flanking without words, not that wolves had need for such things. One came in high, great teeth going for the throat as the other went in low, eager to sink its jaws into an available leg.

John thrust his hand at the wolf leaping at him, filling the space between them, rapidly shrinking as it was, with fire in a gust of flames to interrupt the dangerous attack. Not that being bit on his leg was all that much better as the wolf pulled back with a low growl, wrenching him off his feet into the snow. "Damn it," he cursed, his blood spattering the snow.

Not giving up so easily, he brought the sword up into the dog's face, not point first, it too close and the movement too desperate to manage that, but bashing its snout with the heavy iron of the sword, getting a satisfying yelp of pain from the impact that sent it staggering back.

Smoke erupted from the bush they had been hiding in. The wolves, already starting to doubt the wisdom of their hunt, took it as a good sign to depart in search of easier prey, scattering in all directions with mournful cries of defeat. Zecora emerged with a smile, as hard as it was to see in all the smoke. "Wild animals spook easily, I was told. That it actually works, I now behold."

John shook his sword, a brisk swipe of the air sending some of the mess on it away before he dug in his pockets and found a rag to properly clean it and put it away in its sheath. "Got... anything for bites?"

Zecora emerged from the smoke to get a better look at John's bit leg. "A serious wound, needing of care. Lay down slowly, and I will repair." She guided him down, helping to keep the pressure off the injury until he was laying down properly. With her patient ready, she carefully worked up the pants leg to reveal the injury, making some soft noise. Concern? Disgust?

She drew out some herbs, though she had no pockets, and began mashing them between her hooves. "Would that I had my proper supplies. But to wait on this injury would not be wise." So she pressed on despite her less than ideal circumstances. "This may hurt, for a moment or two, but it will be better for you." He could feel her hooves touching, patting, working some goopy stuff into the injury and around it. As she had promised, it stung! His abused flesh howled with agony at being touched, but he kept still with just a little grunt.

Cleaned and tended, she leaned back on her haunches, examining her work. "It likely still hurts, if I were to guess. Still, at least your wounds have been given a dress."

Bandaged and poulticed, John sat up and reached for the wound, feeling delicately over the spot. "That's better, thank you. So, from the way you've been talking, this isn't your home either?"

"Treacherous forests are quite familiar." She did a slow turn. "But the lay of this land, unfamiliar."

"That was practically a cheat." He smirked and stood up slowly, testing the ability of his bandaged leg. "We're in the middle of nowhere. This whole world can't be a frozen forest, can it?" It was in all directions around them at a glance.

"Any direction is as good as another." Zecora began to step forward, ring-laden ear twitching. "For now you are my camping brother."

"Camping brother." He matched her pace as they crunched through the snow beneath them. "Well, sister. Nice to meet you, Zecora." He set a hand on her head, causing her ears to twitch, but she didn't wrench away, which allowed him to proceed into a little petting. "Happier to have a friend than to be out here alone."

"Friendship is a powerful magic. To be alone, now that is tragic." She ducked her head down away from his hand. "But to assume petting is perhaps too bold. Just this once, I will not scold." She didn't move away, the line drawn, in the snow as it were.

"Solitude is not without its perks." Zecora had broken the quiet of their hike. "It is in quiet that I do most of my works."

"Yeah, so..." He crossed his arms, going quiet a moment. "Where I'm from, the most dangerous thing happening at that moment was a disease."

Zecora turned an ear. "Diseases have caused many a pain. Where society rises, there is no greater bane." She hopped forward onto a log before sliding down the other end. "Did your people not have cures?"

Had she abandoned the attempt to rhyme? "They have plenty of medicine, but it was a new sickness." He patted his sword. "This was a relic of the past, or fantasy."

"And now it is yours," she completed the rhyme despite the words between them. "You appear to be skilled in its use. Where it came from, later to deduce." She circled around ahead of him, only to come around on his other side. "Perhaps you wish to share of your past? Tell me if you have raised or lowered in caste."

"In cast? It was just a bandage." He peeked at his leg, covered by his pants once more. "It was... kinda high tech." But how to explain that to what appeared to be a resident of a fantasy world? "No point worrying about that now. Let's keep our wits about us and get out of this forest."

They had arrived in Everglow. Surely their trip would grow easier after that violent start.

Author's Note:

Welcome! It's time for Ponyfinder! With guests, an earth human and Zecora! Zecora is taking this in stride, but the same could be said for John(whatever his real name is!).

Join the special community of folks who like my stories and/or get your own here at atreon!

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Comments

[badninja]

So I wonder if a certain time traveler will be making a guest appearance in this story? Either his current incarnation or his time traveling counterpart?

[Booster Spice]

A gamer, not a Gamer, depending?

Still, if the comics are not taken, as leaving Zecora totally unknown background, this could give her the chance to be Anything?

[Midknight Defender]

To rhyme comes naturally to me. That we are somewhere new, easy to agree?

“It is simply a mark of training and forethought, used to show my words are not hastily pulled from my plot.”

[Earthpatriot117]

An AWESOME start to an AWESOME adventure! Xd

So when it comes to zecora's rhyming does it come naturally for you? Or is it more like scratching your head moments? Xp

[David Silver]

10778031
To blend the words in a rhyming stance, to write for Zecora, the perfect chance.
Her words they sing a wonderful song, From her mouth does this lovely song belong.

[Earthpatriot117]

10778093
......well then, it seems you've been wanting to write zecora, now you have the perfect opportunity too. Xd

[David Silver]

10778109
Not the first, one hopes not the last. I hope that answers what what you asked.

[Mprimrus]

10778111
It seems to me like you are having too much fun with the rhyming.

[The Weaver]

"That you are something new, impossible to dismiss." Zecora inclined her head at the creature. Bipedal, suspiciously lacking in hair or fur, though it did have a mane. Male voice, clothed.

I cry fowl at the lack of rhyme.

(Not for the last time in the chapter; still better than most who tackle Zecora as mane role)

The human pulled free his black cloak and threw it over Zecora, attaching it around her neck just as quickly. "I have the rest, this'll keep the wind off of you at least. I'm John." That wasn't his original name, but the one he decided to have in the moment.

John... Doe?

Poor choice of words dear red shirt... but you are a main character... for now. I’m sure you’re going to be fine

[David Silver]

10858423
The rhyme was more powerful than you thought!

"What sort of place is this?"

...

"That you are something new, impossible to dismiss."

[Chrome Masquerade]

A consciousness flew between worlds. Propelled by dissatisfaction, and coming free in the first place, the non-place it found itself in had no air, despite the sensation of wind howling past. There was no space, but it felt like a near infinite amount of it rushing with no end in sight, not that it could see anything.

Kind of makes me think of

[Chrome Masquerade]

The wolf howled, the others turning quickly at the noise at the same instant it was lunging for the bushes. It did not expect the bushes to have such sharp thorns. Few bushes in its time had thorns of quite that sharpness or length. John had thrust his sword into the chest of the beast as it pounced, much to its displeasure, letting out a cry of pain as he shoved it aside and emerged from the bushes.

Roll for initiative.

[Chrome Masquerade]

They had arrived in Everglow. Surely their trip would grow easier after that violent start.

Heh. Don't count on it.