When I was younger, my mother would tell me stories of my father. I didn’t have very many memories of him; I think I remember he had three hooves like me, but maybe that was just me projecting. She’d tell me he’d been a scientist, a pony with a great mind, who’d seen the death and destruction in the Wasteland and sought to change it. That he’d wandered off to try and fix the world, and that the world had killed him.

‘The world had killed him’. Those were the words she’d used, like the world were some dark evil thing that could chew you up and spit you out. She wasn’t entirely wrong though, was she? The Wasteland was a ravenous thing, it hungered for its pound of flesh and it seemed an insatiable beast at times that would swallow whatever it could. But it didn’t just take your flesh… it didn’t just take your hooves, your skin, your family… it took your soul.

Sometimes I wondered if that was the point. If the Wasteland destroyed us so much because that was its true meal. A broken soul.

The Wasteland took my hoof, my father, it took Strangers skin, his normal life, and Sonnet’s mother. It had taken a hoof from Aero already and he’d been down less than a year. But maybe things would be different now, maybe the Wasteland couldn’t reach us here. Maybe we’d journeyed too far.

Because wherever we were… the Wasteland was far behind.

I woke, but I didn’t react to it. I kept myself still and let myself remain calm. I felt like I needed to open my eyes, shake my head clear, ask what was happening… but I didn’t. I let my brain engage itself slowly, and kept my breathing regular so I didn’t garner any unwanted attention.

The weight of my body had me swinging slightly. My hooves were obviously bound and I was hung upside down, hog-tied and dangling as though a fresh kill for a carnivorous hunter. That thought sent a shiver down my spine. I was not happy comparing myself to a ‘piece of meat’.

I heard voices nearby. My ears twitched slightly, I focused on their words, hoping to glean what they were going to do with us. I let myself listen.

“Hakuna harakati kutoka kwenye kiota.” The words came from a mare, her accent was thick and the language was not one that I recognised. I assumed it was Zebrican.

“Weka Jicho.” The stallion’s voice replied. “Kitu cha mwisho tunachohitaji ni shambulio.”

I heard the mare move away and bark orders at some others. I wondered how many people were around us as we walked; an army, a whole battalion? How many had stormed us and taken us over. I listened, my ears pricked to try and count the hoofsteps. One set. A second set. A third? No. There was a misstep, two of them walked at almost the same pace. Four. Two carrying us, one nearby, another behind us. The others seemed to have followed the mare leaving just these four. Wait… four Zebra’s couldn’t carry both me and my companions… where were-?

“Ubongo wako ni mdogo na uume wako ni kidogo tu.” The stallion nearby said through a mouth that was obviously stretched into a grin. “Isn’t that right, foolish pony?” He finished in Equestrian.

I stiffened and then slowly cracked open an eye. The Zebra in front of me walked stoically in the direction of the moving entourage, but his eyes were turned down to meet mine, and his mouth was fixed into a sneer. He was the same Zebra as before and my head throbbed at the memory of his hoof. I’d thought he was imposing when I’d first seen him, but hogtied upside down to a log being carried to my certain doom gave this Zebra a few more notches on his intimidation-meter. I could see him more clearly now than I had before. His cloak was indeed dark but not as black as I’d thought, it was a musty grey and had a strange air that made it seem old. But the golden embroidered edges still looked shiny and not a single frayed strand or scrap of lint could be seen. I’d seen brand new cloth that were in worse condition than this cloak. I’d been wrong about his neck too, what I’d thought was a golden brace was actually seven golden ring collars together that covered his whole neck. It looked uncomfortable to wear, and heavy. Just the sight of the way they gleamed made me certain they were actual gold. Yet this Zebra stallion bore their weight as though he had for years.

“Poor at defending yourselves. Poor at fighting for what you keep.

Poor at fighting at all, and poor at pretending to sleep.

To see you like this makes my pride swell,

Tell me, is there anything that you ponies do well?”

He spoke in rhyme and turned to face me, the stretched grin on his face showed a level of malicious joy at my circumstance that had me highly uncomfortable. I wasn’t quite sure why he’d suddenly started doing poetry at me, but it felt significant.

“Surprise attacks and no fair fight. I know the type,

I should have expected nothing less, from a cowardly stripe.”

The rhyme spat from my tongue with as much venom as I could muster. The stallion Zebra’s face fell, and he held my gaze for a moment before I saw it contort into barely held rage. “Nitafurahi kupiga nyama kutoka mifupa yako.” He spat before his baleful glare turned into an even more malicious sneer than before.

I didn’t know what he said, but I know I didn’t like it.

The Zebra village was… disconcerting. Not in a bad way, but in a way that I hadn’t expected. It was disconcerting because I’d expected to be surprised, but instead, the place looked exactly as I’d thought it would. Old text’s that I’d read in my youth described the tents and arrangements of the Camps, and despite their two millennia old age, the texts seemed still relevant today.

The Zebra camp was small, and secluded. It was the smell that hit me first. Scent was a big factor in the newness of everything here. In the Wasteland, everything was dust, rot, and rust. The smell of sweet things wasn’t a common find. But here, the air was heavy with a sweet scent, it was almost pungent and cloyed at the throat in a manner that had me coughing several times on the journey here. The forest seemed almost citrus-ey in its smell, as though fruits were abundant, and they both repulsed me, but also made my mouth water for a taste. The vines and trees had their own scents too, like cinnamon and spice, something that mixed with the aforementioned sweetness that resulted in an aroma that was too complicated and overwhelming to really describe. But this place washed those smells away. I’d barely arrived at the edges of the small encampment when my olfactory senses were attacked again in a violent manner. As though specifically designed to drive away all other smells, the place permeated a heady fragrance of herbs and something that could only be described as a sweet and spice at the same time. It burned my nose, and cloyed down my throat until I felt I were almost being choked. But just as quick as the choking overcame me, it quickly eased and I found the smell almost calming. Strangely the smell seemed to come with a warmth that pressed over my body, and as we passed through the first tents, it was like the scent in the air kept this small encampment shrouded and contained. Something told me it had a purpose.

The camp itself had a large tent complex at the far end, it seemed to be designed in concentric circles that moved around the centre where a large pit fire had been established, the sight of which had me feeling nervous considering my predicament. Zebra’s weren’t actually cannibals, right? That was just a made-up story… right?

The tents were a beige colouring, and seemed decently sized for a family’s needs, larger than I had expected, but smaller than I’d personally choose to make them. Though something about them made me think they were collapsible for easy transport, the ones closest to the fire were larger than those further away, and those closest seemed to keep an equal distance from the fire all around. Children ran and played by the fire, jumping over small parts where the flames did not lick too high, laughing and playing in a jovial manner. I actually hadn’t expected to see children here, so I found myself looking around in surprise. Most of the Zebra’s I saw looked like civilians. They poked their heads out of tents curiously as I was brought in, a hog on a spit. For a moment my heart thundered in my ears as we seemed to head for the fire and I couldn’t help but glance at my capture. He caught my eye, and a malicious grin spread once again over his features. I did not like this particular Zebra.

One of the children broke from the grouping by the fire and rushed over with a large grin on his face. The small colt had a leather bodice around him with pockets fitted into the sides, He reached in and pulled out what looked to be braided twine of multiple colours. My captors stopped for the moment, I grunted as I swung a little unstably while still hogtied. I tried to see past the tail of the Stallion holding my spit in front of me, and watched as the Zebra who’d hit me before, reached down and with an almost kindly face, accepted the braid of twine with a genuine look of pleasure.

I leaned up, pulling my face to my hooves. I bit my leg in a show of scratching an itch, and stealthily slipped the scalpel from my coats collar into my hooves while I did so.

“Can you let me go already, these ropes itch.” I made a point of snapping.

The Zebra stallion’s face once again fell into a mask of displeasure as he turned to look at me. He turned to the others and spoke a few words I couldn’t understand, and soon we were moving again, the Zebra Stallion opting to stay behind with the foal for the moment. He glared at me as we passed him.

Thankfully we were moving past the fire and towards the largest tent nearby, this one had blue and gold embroidery around the edges of the white linen, and as the door flap had been tucked aside and I was transported inside, I suddenly became aware of how much drier the inside of the tent was. I hadn’t noticed how humid the air had been outside, but now I was out of it, I felt the sweat clinging to my body in an uncomfortable manner far more clearly than I had noticed it before.

I looked around me, this entire tent… was empty. I was moved into the centre. A few cushions lay nearby in areas that looked for congregation or conversation, but I was moved to the centre. Slowly I was laid down into the dirt, grunting a little as the weight of the wood I was tied to pushed me to the floor a little. I looked up at the Zebra who had carried me and glared at them. They didn’t even give me a look as they walked out, closed the flap, and left me.

I was alone.

The ropes fell to the floor with a quick cut and I rubbed my left fetlock as the ropes had dug into it a little. I then used the scalpel to also cut through the ones at my backlegs.

Did these Zebra’s think ponies were stupid? I moved to the edge of the tent and listened carefully, I could hear laughing and playing out there. Well, they could just enjoy themselves then. I moved over top the back of the tent, slipped my scalpel into the fabric and slowly began to cut down. I peaked out for a moment, and when I saw that the coast was clear, I tore it open the rest of the way and immediately leapt out towards the trees.

The moment I stepped out of the camp area, I knew I was fucked. I broke through the scent barrier, and jumping from the spicey-sweet scent of the camp into the citrus, earthy smell of the forest sent me literally stumbling to the ground. I felt like my brain was being overrun by the scents. Clenching my eyes shut as I forced myself to my feet, I looked around me before making myself move.

My hooves felt like jelly. Was this magic? Was there something in the scent? Wait… was that laughing I heard behind me?

My hooves found uneven ground with almost every step, and I stumbled and tripped more times than I cared to remember. I wasn’t used to this, the Wasteland was sand and rock, litter and rubbish. You had to watch your step and be nimble and have sure footing, but THIS was ridiculous. It was like the forest was trying its best to be as impassable as possible.

Vines and leaves blocked my path like impeding walls, some I could duck under, others I had to cut away with the scalpel. I moved through a tree that had split into two larger ones, down a small hill and burst out into what looked to be a clearing. It was a large groove in the ground, the kind I’d expect to see as a riverbed, but there was no water and the ground was firm rather than wet. I wasn’t about to ignore the gift though. I jumped down into the clearing and began running, finally able to put on a decent amount of speed. I had to get out of here, get safe, and then figure out a way of finding and saving Sonnet, Stranger and Aero… maybe in that order.

I heard the sound of rustling behind me. I turned to look and I felt a lump swell in my throat.

He was right there within the tree’s where I had come out, he’d obviously been following me.

The gold on his neck glinted in light that broke through the tree’s above. His face was an impassive mask as he watched me, as though he were simply curious as to what I would do. He made no move to follow me down into the dry bed which I found curious, and it also made me apprehensive. I trotted a little faster, trying to put a decent distance between us. But I didn’t gallop, not yet, I had my eye on him, my head turned slightly. The slightest movement from him and I’d bolt, but until then, I had to conserve my energy.

I felt it before I saw it. My eyes widened and something told me to jump away. I turned and dived, throwing myself as far to the left as I could as something struck where I had just been standing. I hit the ground hard with a thump, but quickly rolled to my feet, not letting myself take the time to rest. My hooves still felt a little unstable from the difficult circulation when I had been upside down, but the increased blood pressure caused by adrenaline had my brain ignoring it fast.

Teeth. That’s what I saw. Rows and rows of the largest most vicious teeth I had ever seen, each singular tooth as slender as my body and twice as long. And saw over thirty… no forty…. No, maybe even fifty somehow crammed into a jaw a size smaller than needed so they slid against each other in a horrible slicing, grindy sound with each closing or opening of that huge maw. There were no lips or nose to speak of, this creature was eel-like, giant, with large black eyes the size of my body and far over proportioned for its head. Its body was black, slick, wet looking and it had to be over ten meters long.

It looked at me with an impassive predatory gaze. I saw only one understanding in the way it moved and the way its lidless eyes followed my every move. I was food.

I dared a glance behind me for just a moment to see that the Zebra that had followed me was still there, he watched with a stone-like expression as though he’d known what would happen. I got the feeling that coming down into this dry-bed was a bad idea.

A slither from the front of me drew my attention back to the giant eel like creature, it seemed to sway almost hypnotically before it would launch forward and its huge jaws opened only to snap closed when it thought it had me.

I dived again, striking the ground with enough force to jar my legs as I forced myself into a roll and then a run, moving towards the eel, in an effort to get within its defences. I moved past its head and stabbed out, lashing my scalpel out. I hit flesh and the blade sliced in, I began to cut fast and hard… but there was no blood. I looked at the wound and had just enough time to assess why there was no blood when the entire beast jerked, its form striking my and my body being lifted from the ground and striking against a tree. As I fell to the floor, coughing in a manner that had me worried for the state of my ribs, I looked up as the beast snarled at me, ready to strike again.

My cut had done nothing, my scalpel wasn’t big enough… its skin was too thick, and there was no way my small scalpel could reach deep enough while it was moving around. Unless… Celestia I hated it when I had smart but dumb ideas.

I flexed my hooves, dug them in and got read to jump. I had to do this right. I waited for the time, when the creature suddenly launched itself forward, I launched right at it. I hit the ground just below where it struck and rolled, its large head slipping right over me. I then rolled out from under it, and with as much strength as I could, I leapt. I leapt and stabbed down with the scalpel I still held in my teeth, the blade sunk into the creature’s side deep, finally drawing a bit of blood, and I used it to hoist myself up until I was on its back.

The massive creature went wild, it bucked hard and my entire plan… got fucked.

I was launched high into the air, and for a moment, I felt like the world slowed to a crawl. The weightlessness hit me first, my body flailing out of my control. I watched the eel below me, twist and turn, its head turning to face me, its monstrous jaws opening wide in a snarl that had my heart threatening to burst out of my throat. I began to fall, I thought I saw a glint of triumph, of anticipation from the eel, I could smell its foul and fetid breath, I could my body start to fall, and though I knew intellectually that less than a second had gone by since I was thrown into the air, it almost felt like hours had passed before I began to tumble towards that gaping maw.

Suddenly the creatures jaw snapped shut, a blade having pierced into it from below, through the under-jaw and into the maw, pinning the lower jaw to the roof of the mouth.

I fell down, bounced on the creature’s snout and fell to the floor face down with a grunt… everything hurt. I felt a presence over me, I saw to my left the hooves of a Zebra. I took this moment to re-sheath my scalpel to hide it before rolling over.

The Zebra grinned down at me. “Foolish pony.” He said in his thick accent.

I studied his face for a moment and a realisation came over me. “You wanted me to try and escape.” The Zebra’s smile only grew wider.

“We see you face tasks that can be daunting,” the Zebra’s eyes glanced up to the now dead Eel-like beast.

“We see your strength… We find it wanting.”

I blinked at him. “You are such a cunt.” I grumbled, watching more Zebra’s slip from the forest.

I didn’t fight them. I walked, letting them take me, but I was thankful I wasn’t strapped upside down on a spit with a stallion’s taint in my nose with every damn step, so this was at least a small improvement compared to my previous conditions.

I let them take me back to the camp, I felt myself get a little dizzy when I re-entered the scent barrier of the camp, and felt just confident enough to ask about it. But the moment I opened my mouth to speak, I received a sharp jab in the side with a stick making me yelp. “Fine.” I grumbled, only to yelp again at a second jab of the stick.

I thought they’d lead me back into the tent as before, but this time they led me past it. I made sure to steer clear of the fire. As I walked, I noticed that everyone was watching me, children stopped playing nearby, mares poked their heads out of tents and stallions wearing warrior outfits glared at me as I passed.

The camp was decently large, about the size of a small village, but it was only ten minutes before we exited the boundaries and ended up on a new trail. I was still being herded, Zebra’s on all sides, and all armed. I still had my scalpel, but all of my guns had been taken. It was unlikely that I could escape, so for now I stayed the course and made no signs of resistance.

We walked for almost half an hour before I saw something up ahead. It looked like a wall. As I approached, my eyes widened at the size. Ahead of me was the wall to a compound, built strong out of treated wood and tied together with thick rope, the place looked like it had been built before the camp that he’d been escorted from, but not by much. This was still a recent construction, weather had not yet worn down the wood that made up its form. The gate in front of me was guarded by two large looking zebras in masks that were two sizes too big for their heads. The mask on the left seemed to be based on that Eel thing I saw, with many rows of fake teeth protruding from the masks mouth, with heavy black eyes. The mask of the Zebra on the left was striped with red and black, black eyes ringed in red, and something about the mouth had a blue glow to it. It unnerved me.

The guards didn’t even look at them as they approached, the allowed us to walk on through, the gate opening without a need to call out. The creaking wood sounded loud, as though designed to make everyone aware of their presence as they entered.

The inside was… strategic. More so than I’d expected. We entered on the low-ground. The land sloped up almost immediately, steps and stairs lead into different areas, and thick barriers blocked off certain others. Every walkway had a view down onto us immediately, and if we were an invading force, we’d immediately be in a kill-box upon entering. There was a high wall to our left, and to our right, was a raised area looking down over us. Ahead of us, I could see our path opened up, but we were still exposed, the paths wound upwards with barriers to stop ponies (or zebra’s) from falling over the sides, but they gave ample position to see over, and to shoot over if needed.

I was escorted in and we turned left, I watched around me. The place was full, most were soldiers. I could see the way they held themselves, Zebra’s wearing red warpaints, others wearing armour. Most of their weapons seemed to be spear based, which surprised me, but something about these spears had me curious. The base where the blade met the handle was often accompanied by a stone, a gem. Interesting decoration. I wondered if it was religiously significant, or just traditionally. Whatever the reason, the sight of their pointed tips made me nervous. I was used to facing the deafening blast of a rifle, the piercing crack of a sniper. But these blades had a different feel to them, they were clean, sharp, vicious, and filled me with a primal notion that had my tail tucked between my back hooves instinctively.

Like cattle herded to slaughter, I was marked round and upwards, the pathway growing ever higher. As we walked, I noticed holes and pathways dug into the earth, a honeycomb of tunnels that likely spread underneath the camp. This place was larger than it looked from the outside.

Eventually we reached the apex. I found myself glancing behind me, the view from here allowed for a surveyed sight around the entire encampment. For a moment I imaged being a sniper from the bottom, aiming up to the top and gaining a clear view of the enemy’s leader I could take out. Was this a flaw in the design? No… I could see it now. A sniper takes position, he takes his aim… and the entire camp aims back. To try and take out the leader would cause the Zebra’s to descend like an avalanche. It would be a suicide mission.

A jab in my side turned me away from the view, and I was led along the outside of a wall. There was an opening in the wall, no gate, no baring’s, just guards presenting themselves stoically, their eyes pressing into him like so many daggers. There wasn’t even a pause in the processions as I was matched inside the walls.

Immediately I was confused. The walls were a solid wood roped together, thick bound trunks, thick enough to prevent most attacks, easy enough to dismantle for travel if needed. But this view had me reeling. I could see THROUGH them. The inside of the walls was transparent, the wooden forms ghostly in visage against the backdrop of the camp. Some sort of magic made them see-through on one side, like a trick-mirror, allowing those within the confines to go unseen, while they saw everything.

I stumbled for a moment in my shock, but a quick jab made me focus. Guards stood at all four corners of the small square fort, a hatch to my left was likely a place to come and go to the inside of the tunnels below without being seen, and in the centre of the room was a table. The table was decorated, flags, positions, a map of some sort drawn in a fashion and a language that was alien to me, but a cursory glance told me it was obviously of the Wasteland. Why they had a map of the Wasteland I didn’t know, but I felt a shiver run down my side.

My eyes shifted from the map to the corner. It was a corner that looked directly out towards the entrance of this little fort on the hill. In this corner was a chair draped in furs and red silks, flanked on all sides by flags of different colours and designs than I had seen before; reds, yellows, greens, and blacks made up the flag’s designs, though they hung listlessly in the little wind, crumpled and flaccid, disguising their full designs as they rocked uselessly next to their standing poles. Between them was a standing Zebra, he looked me up and down as I approached and I saw his eyes linger on my hoof. I didn’t know if it was disgust in his eyes or pity. He wore a multi-coloured outfit that laid over his back almost like a blanket, and his ears had large rectangular earrings. His neck was adorned in three golden bands. And beside that Zebra, sat upon the flag-flanked throne, was another Zebra.

This Zebra had a shock of blond mane and hard, green eyes. He was a stallion, his striped coat had red stripes crossing over his black, and his shoulders and waist were bound heavily in leather with fur draped over his shoulders and from his neck, bound in only three golden rings, hung a medallion of a star, surrounded by a wreath. This stallion was large, easily as large as the Zebra to my right, who had captured me and brought me here.

I was dragged forward, and with a flash of pain, my back legs were struck and my forehooves kicked out from underneath me sending me face first into the dirt before the enthroned Zebra.

I pulled my face from the dirt and looked up slowly, my gaze moving up the stallion. He seemed to spread his legs and expose himself to me, dropping from his sheath as he did so. He was rather big… VERY big. I looked up at his face, but I saw no sexual thrill in his eyes. This wasn’t arousal… it was domination. This was intimidation. It was plain he didn’t intend me to do anything, he was simply saying ‘I am more stallion than you’.

He leaned forward, his legs closing and he stared down at me with a mouth in contrast to his expression. His eyes were a harsh glare, a challenging one. He was furious at my gall, my defiance, my very audacity at being before him, but despite so plain a fury, his mouth was spread into a mirthful grin. Something about this Zebra set off all the warning bells in my head.

I remembered the scalpel.

I wasn’t defenceless, I had the opportunity to DO something, should I dare to try. But I could never escape, I could never do it. I’d be sacrificing myself. But for what? My friends were still missing, I was trapped, I had no idea what their plans were. Everything around me was so new and confusing, and yet… at the same time, something screamed in me to try. To do it, to kill this stallion before he had the chance to destroy everything I had ever known.

And after a hard look in the Zebra’s eyes, I knew my instincts were right.

This Zebra was death incarnate.

My body reacted before I ever could, and with a speed I had never known it to before. I want to say that it was like an outer-body experience. But it was really quite the opposite. For a singular moment I was more aware of my body than I had ever been before. The way my muscles went taught in my neck, like a coiled spring ready to turn and slash. The coil of my lower back, my hooves digging into the dirt for purchase on my leap, the dull throb in my stumped forehoof as pressure was placed on it for the jump. The taste of the metal in my mouth as I bit into the handle, grinding my teeth into the harsh surface, slipping it out of my coat so fast I was sure that for the first time the blade had caused a tear in the leather. I launched forward, the sharp scalpel slicing through the air and suddenly I was on him, the blade striking his throat and-

Snap.

I felt it.

I didn’t want to believe it. Everything in my brain went off, warning signs, screams of alarms so loud in my brain I felt like my head would explode. A heavy and desperate urge to run, scream, curl into a ball, to sob or just play dead coiled through me so violently I felt immediately nauseous.

No one moved. I stood there, my body draped over the Zebra, my muzzle at his throat, and his eyes calmly looked down at me. And a broken scalpel in my teeth. The blade had struck true, but his skin was like stone, no, it was more than stone. Stone scratched and stone could be chipped, but this had no give. My hooves pressed into his thighs and I could feel the power beneath them in those muscles.

This wasn’t right. Skin couldn’t stop a blade. I should have rent his throat open, he should be choking on his own blood. But he wasn’t. He was impassive, that grin still there, the righteous wrath in his eyes having been replaced by amusement, one of his brows raised in a curious manner, as though wondering what I was going to try next.

Hooves grasped me and dragged me back, I was thrown to the ground and I felt pain lash through my face as hooves struck me. Another struck my chest, and then my testicles. I heaved, almost throwing up from the blow before I was dealt another blow that I was sure broke my nose, blood pooling from my nose and down the back of my mouth had me coughing and sputtering to try and breathe properly.

The beatings stopped and I heard a somepony say something, “tunapaswa kumwua!”

I didn’t know what was being said, but I didn’t like the venom in those words.

“Tunapaswa kuonyesha kuzuia.” A voice said. I looked up and saw the standing Zebra next to the throne looking at the blond stallion who sat the throne, still grinned as he looked down at me. “Anaweza kuwa na manufaa. Na nyota hazijafunua hatima yake.”

I watched the blond stallion consider the other stallions’ words before nodding. His hoof stomped on the arm rest of his throne and I was dragged up, the hooves holding me there as I looked and hung limply. I could already feel my left eye starting to swell from the first blow I’d received. I looked up at the Zebra on the throne again. He was still smiling. I felt a wave of hatred boil through me and I my eyes narrowed into a glare. I spit at him, my saliva was red with blood and the spittle drooped down his cheek, staining his white fur. Much like my attack, he remained unmoved. He reached up and casually wiped the spittle away before leaning back in his chair and taking on a relaxed posture.

“You are quite the hero.” He spoke, his accent was thick, but he spoke with confidence. I could already tell by his pronunciation that he had a stronger grasp of the Equestrian language than most of his subordinates.

The word ‘hero’ set my teeth on edge, and seemed to affect me more than the beating had. I spat again, this time on the ground at his feet (though I admit, it was mainly to clear my mouth so I could speak). “I’m no hero.”

The zebra raised his brow and let out a mirthful laugh. “Then you play well at being one.” He grinned. He raised his hoof to those that held me; “basi aende.”

Their hooves immediately let me go and I dropped to the ground, grunting a little as I realised how much every inch of me hurt. I slowly pulled myself to my hooves and looked up at the Zebra again.

“I am Njano Mlezi. I am Kaisari wa Wengi. Or as your tongue has crowned me, ‘Caesar of the Legion’.”

A grin spread across his muzzle even wider than before. He seemed very proud of his title, though I had no idea why. I looked around me, and my brain seemed to finally start kicking into gear. He’d said our tongue had crowned him; did that mean that he’d dealt with ponies before? Was I not the first brought here? Who had he been facing to earn himself a reputation like this?

I let these question flit around in my head for a bit before finally asking; “Why was I brought here?”

The Caesar looked curiously at me as he seemed to consider the question. Something about the way he shifted his eyes told me he wasn’t just trying to think of how to say what he wanted to say… something told me he was trying to figure out how to lie.

“You were in the Spire.” He explained simply. “It is an unholy place.”

I raised a brow. “Oh, so I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?” I asked curiously. I watched as the stallion only spread his grin wider in response. “Then how do you explain following us for the last several days?” The Zebra’s grin faltered a little. I stayed quiet, expectantly waiting for his answer.

The Zebra seemed to study me before he broke out into an eager and cocky laughter. “Very good. Excellent. You are smarter than you look.” I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.

He leaned forward on his throne, reached over and gently lifted the glasses from the bridge of my nose. My vision went blurry and I squinted to see him as best I could. He played with the glasses a little, looking through them, before he casually began cleaning the messy lenses on the leather of his outfit, doing so in a casual manner.

“Yes, we were watching you.” He admitted, finishing with the glasses, leaning forward and slipping them back onto my nose and my vision once again focused. “We have been for some time.”

Those times I felt watched. Like I’d seen something on the horizon… “Why?” I asked.

The Zebra’s smile only grew more mirthful. “Why indeed.” He turned to the other Zebra’s nearby. “Kumchukua.”

My hooves were pulled harshly as I was dragged away. I kept my gaze fixed on the Caesar for a moment, intending to glare while I was pulled away, but I couldn’t my eyes flicking down to the floor where the glint of a broken blade sat on the blanked wood. My scalpel. I felt a little hollow after losing that, as though its presence had been a comfort that I’d previously took for granted.

I was carried down the ramps until we reached the fate level of the camp before they finally stopped. I tried to twist my head to see what was going on, but I didn’t need to. The Zebra that had captured me came up beside me, a bowl in his hooves. “Breathe this in.”

I looked at the bowl dubiously. “Why?”

He chuckled. “It will make you sleep. I would personally rather hit you again. But I have been instructed to keep you unharmed… for now.” He shoved the bowl under my nose and the cloying smell burned my nose.

I couldn’t help but take a deep breath, and my head already began swimming. Everything seemed to blur, and slowly the darkness crept in. I had only the vaguest sensation of the dragging continuing, before I was once again unconscious.

“Wewe si punda…” A voice said. It was female, it was curious. I stirred as wakefulness approached like a hazy fog that slowly entered my mind. I felt like I’d been underwater. Not wet and drowning, but the pressure, the weight… and I was now rising to the surface

I slowly opened my eyes. My eyes fell on sky-blue ones. She cocked her head. Her shock of white hair flopped from over one eye to the other. Her ear was adorned with two small rings and patched with dark tips. Her muzzle was dark too up to the bridge, and then her face drew into a satin-white with two dark stripes across either cheek. I saw a glint of gold and noticed her neck adorned a singular circlet. I wondered for a moment what those rings meant, if anything at all.

She looked at me curiously. She was shorter than some of the other Zebra’s I’d met, younger it seemed; and she gazed at me with youthful curiosity. “Unafanya nini hapa?” She asked.

I could tell it was a question by the tone, but I had no idea what she was asking me. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Zebrican.” I tried to tell her. I took note of where I was; I was tied to a pole again in a tent, and it seemed this time I was bound much tighter, and with a sinking feeling I remembered I didn’t have my scalpel anymore to help cut my ropes.

“Sijui wewe…” She replied and almost seemed to pout. “Je! Huesema Swahili kabisa?”

I looked at her and, with my vision still swimming a little from the drug I’d breathed in, I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

She was visibly upset at this. Her face screwed up in determination, she sat on her hunches, closed her eyes and seemed to be concentrating on something. “N-name… be… Ukoo.”

My eyes widened. “Ukoo?” I asked, pronouncing it like ‘u-ku’.

Her eyes opened and she gave me an unimpressed look. Suddenly her hoof flicked my ear sharply. “Ouch!” I protested, shaking my head.

“Ukoo.” She said slowly, pronouncing it ‘u-ku-oh’.

“Ukoo.” I repeated back.

She was particularly happy about me getting this right. She then started jabbing me in the chest excitedly. For a flash of a second, I was annoyed, then I realised what she wanted. “Oh, my name is ‘Tome Tale’.” I put emphasis on my name and slowed it down for her so she could follow it.

She mouthed it a few times before saying, “Toe-ma-ta-ler?”

This time I gave her a look. I told her my name again, and she seemed to think about it. “Toe-ma Tale?”

Well at least she got the surname down, I thought. “Good enough.” I told her with a smile.

She smiled happily before trying to concentrate again. “Why… here?” She asked, pointing at my chest again.

It occurred to me she likely didn’t grasp directive pronouns like ‘you’, which would make this awkward. “I don’t know.” I told her honestly, not sure if she’d be able to understand me.

Suddenly there was a sound outside that drew her attention. She panicked for a moment and pushed her hoof to my chest. “Rudi baadaye, ah…” She struggled for a moment before saying one word. “Sleep!” She said it with a bit of a hiss.

I took it for a warning and immediately closed my eyes enough that it would appear as though I were sleeping, though my left eye was open the slightest crack to watch what was going on. I watched her blurred form jump up and head to the tent opening. I heard a gruff voice from outside of a Zebra I didn’t think I’d met yet.

“Ulikuwa unafanya nini huko?” He asked gruffly. His silhouette was taller than her, probably older, perhaps a guard. “Unajua huruhusiwi huko.” He sounded stern.

I heard her give a nervous answer. “Nilikuwa nikiona kama angehitaji maji lakini amelala.”

He saw the flap get pushed aside and the gruff Zebra poked his head in. His eyes found me. They glared for a moment. I couldn’t quite see his features, but I thought I might have seen a beard. He seemed satisfied with what he saw and pulled his head from the entrance and back to Ukoo. “Kurudi kwenye masomo yako.” He barked at her, and I heard the sound of her galloping away. The stallion poked his head in again, but only for a moment before I heard him trotting away as well. He pulled back and I was left alone in the tent with my thoughts.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there. My head still felt heavy and hazy from the drug they’d made me breathe, and as such I found myself running through my own memories in a sort of fugue state. Half awake, half dreaming in metaphor and allegory. I saw Sonnet, laughing, trying to chase someone, the laughing sound of Vanilla Milkshake as they played. I remembered her… from the Buckshot Gang… it felt like a lifetime ago. I saw the way Vanilla looked at the filly, with motherly eyes. I saw Lilly; and the tears that fell from Lucky seemed to wash her away like a tide that quickly settled and slowly pooled over the ground like a thin mirrored sheen. His sorrow began to drown him, the lime-green old stallion clawing for breath as he sank beneath the waves, him and his reflection in the water merging into nothingness. And there, watching it all, was Stranger. Watching. Always just watching. And there was me. Between rage. Between sorrow. Between grief. Between emptiness. And what was I? Were they my friends? Or were they me? Did I grieve? Was I sad? Was I angry? Was I empty…?

I jerked awake and saw a figure in the darkness. I struggled and kicked out hard.

“Ouch!” The figured backed off and rubbed their nose. “I am trying to unbind you. I swear it’s true.” The thick accent instantly informed me it was a Zebra, but I couldn’t place the voice with any of my captors. They also spoke VERY good Equestrian; I could tell by their pronunciation.

“Who are you?”

“I am not an enemy, nor am I a friend.

Please do not hit me again, or for the guards I’ll have to send.” She said in a voice that was melodious, but also defeated. As though they were really hoping I wasn’t going to make this difficult.

“What are you going to do with me?” I challenged, not yet allowing the mare close.

“We are going to look into a mirror, to see what’s in your past.

And read the cards, and the sky, to see what fate has caste.

If you will let me unbind you now, we can start soon enough;

please do not make trouble for me, today’s been rough enough.”

I wasn’t sure why she was rhyming or why I felt like I could trust her. But I did. I relaxed myself and shuffled so she had access to the binding. She made short work of them and soon my hooves were free. I grunted and looked down at the one still clenched in its prosthetic. It was starting to feel sore, like I’d waded through radiated water again, but I had no memory of that. Maybe the journey here had been fraught with radiation and I hadn’t been conscious for it.

The moment I was free, my eyes cast to the entrance, and I was tempted to run for it.

“The place is guarded, and you’ve tried to fight and run before and it did not work as of yet.

Has your sleep addled your brain or did you forget?” She questioned him, sounding unimpressed. “Please.” She sounded like she was almost pleading.

I gulped down my instincts to flee and nodded in the dark, slowly making it to my hooves. I put pressure on my prosthetic hoof and grunted at the pain, but I bore it as silently as I could.

She moved to the entrance and the light and stepped out. I followed her and took the moment to look her up and down. She was an older mare, older than me anyway, and she had five rings around her neck, her ears were distended at the bottom from the heavy rings looped within them, and she wore a crosspatch outfit made of what looked to be feathers from a very large bird.

Upon leaving the tent I glanced around. Guards were there, eyeing me, I was surrounded in a semi-circle and the only direction I could move was the same as the mare I was supposed to be following.

“Sorry about the guards, the choice was not mine.” She assured me as she trotted forward down a path lined with bushes that were dotted with red berries. She began to gather a few of the berries as she passed. “I find their presence to hinder the divine.”

“Divine?” I asked as I followed, limping a little on my hoof. The air here had a distinctly sandalwood smell to it. It felt so alien, and I was pretty sure it was entirely because of how much around me was so ALIVE. The green beneath my hooves, the bushes, the tree’s… I felt like I were inside a never-ending Evergreen Forest. But one that was much more… jungle like.

“Do you know much of our ways?

Of our culture and beliefs in the stars that gaze?” She asked curiously, glancing over her shoulder.

“Not much.” I admitted. We approached a hut that was a little smaller than others, the roof was more pointed and open at the top. A billow of white smoke slowly drifting from its oculus. “Like for example,” I began, stepping into the tent and looking upwards. The roof was supported by beams, but none of the wood seemed firmly fixed together, it seemed like it was specifically designed to be packed up if needed, but remain sturdy so long as it was up. “Why are you rhyming?”

She gave me a smile over her shoulder. “Rhyming is what we do in your tongue and others, for reasons that I could say,

But we do not have the time right now, so ask me later, okay?” She walked to the centre of the tent that currently housed a large cauldron on what seemed to be an in-tent small furnace made from stones, clay and burning wood.

“Nice tent.” I commented, looking around. The tent was filled with interesting knickknacks. Jars full of items that probably had some significance, masks on the walls of being I didn’t know whether they came from mythology, magic, or reality. I approached the cauldron as she moved to one side of it and indicated with a gesture that I should approach. With a quick glance around, ascertaining that the guards had waited outside, I leaned forward to whisper to her. “You have to help me. My friends and I were taken against our will.” I hissed. “I need to find them.”

“Are they friends?” She asked curiously, not bothering to keep her voice down as she grabbed a stick that protruded from the bubbling cauldron. The mixture inside was a strange mixture of colourful streaks, and a blackness that seemed to reflect everything around it at once, it had a scent to it that I couldn’t place. It was strange, there was definitely a scent, but almost like it smelt of… nothingness.

I eyed her curiously at the question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She looked at me and it was as though her eyes looked through me. A shiver ran down my spine as she gave me an unblinking gaze. “You have no friends, not those that will stay.

For how could they when you push them away?”

My eyes narrowed at her. First, she’d expressed pity on my situation, and now she was insulting me. My opinion of this mare was very rapidly declining. “You don’t know me, Zebra.”

She shook her head. “No, I do not. I do not know your past, or your present, your experiences from far or near,

But I can still see you, in all the ways that you fear.”

She was telling the truth. Something about the way her eyes bore into me made me want to get out of the tent as fast as possible. She began stirring the bubbling cauldron, looking down over it.

“What is that?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t have to drink it.

“Mirror Water.”

“That’s water?” I asked dubiously. It didn’t run like water, it almost looked like a liquid metal.

“Not that for drinking, no. This is for seeing.” Her hoof reached into it, and gently poked the water. A silver ripple spread from the place where her hoof touched and the small waves lapped against the side of the water as shapes and swirls of imagery formed in a blurry haze. My eyes widened as I saw, forming within those swirls of monochrome silver, my own face, looking down into the bowl. My eye was a little more swollen than I’d realised, my cheeks were gaunt, and I was bruised all over. A cut along my temple from a blow I didn’t remember receiving, was caked in dried blood, and I hadn’t realised my left eye was bloodshot. I looked up to her, noticing my self in the mirror water also moved. I looked back and lifted a hoof, waving it experimentally. Suddenly, I watched as the image turned on its axis, as though it had been rotated. I looked up to the mare and saw her head cocked to the side, with a single brow raised.

“It’s… through you’re eyes?” I asked, putting the pieces together. “Is this like… memory orbs?”

Her expression hardened. She pulled out a bulb of what looked to be a purple flower that had been dried out, and dropped it into the mixture. Immediately the purple colour spread from the flower, it sank into the mixture, and the purple was followed by a silver waves at the edge of the ripple that wiped the image until it was once again, clear, shapeless, and nothingness.

“Memory orbs are crude recreations of magic stolen from our land,

A habit you ponies have, that I cannot stand.” There was a venom in her voice that hadn’t been there before. I was taller, significantly stronger, and had a lot of battle experience. Despite that, this mare scared me a little.

I looked down over the mirror water. “Why am I here?”

“We are here to find out who you are, and who you will become.

We will discover this, by seeing the deeds you have done.”

She reached over and with a light yelp from me, yanked a burgundy strand of hair from my mane. She dropped the hair into the mirror water. It shimmered for a moment, and shapes span and swirled, until they became a face I barely recognised. He had a dark burgundy mane and a chestnut brown hide. His eyes were a soft yellow, and he looked directly out from the mirror water, and whether it was an optical illusion or some part of the magic, his eyes seemed to be looking right at me, and follow me no matter how I positioned myself around the cauldron.

“You got this, try again.” A voice echoed out, it was garbled, as though traveling through fluid, which… I supposed it was. Did I recognise that voice?

“I am trying, I don’t know how.” I definitely knew that voice. That was my voice… but younger.

The stallion in the fluid seemed to scoff in annoyance. “The others could do it.” He then pulled away and seemed to make a note of something in a notepad. The angle changed, pivoting to the floor to stare at the rocks and dirty below, only for me to hear another voice.

“What are you doing?” The water’s view angled up into the face of a mare that sent a warm flutter through me… followed by an old ache. My mother.

I understood now; the water was looking through my eyes as a child. These were my memories.

“These are mine… but I don’t remember them.” I said softly, looking up to the Zebra mare.

She simply chuckled. “Yes, you do, you simply choose not to.”

“If he can get this, it could save his life one day.” Said the stallion in the water… a stallion I now recognised as my father.

“He’s a child.” I heard my mother hiss. “And this is cruel.” There was a bitterness to her voice.

“Tome, I want you to try again. Look at me.” The view pivoted over as my younger self complied. “Good, now look into my eyes, concentrate… you can do this. You can stop me.” He took a step towards the younger me, and the vision shook a little as if the young colt I’d been, had been shaking at this point. “Stop me Tome, don’t take your eyes off mine... stop me.”

Suddenly my fathers hoof lashed out. I felt the impact. I didn’t really feel it, but on some level… I did. The view of my younger self snapped to the side from the impact, I heard my voice as the small me burst into tears. I watched as he coughed, and spat blood over the floor.

I stood watching this, I stood and shook a little. I didn’t remember this, why didn’t I remember this?

The Zebra’s hoof reached forward and waved over the water, the vision cleared and the water was still and imageless once more.

“Memories are fickle things,

Love and joy, they can bring.

But also, sadness and pain from our past.

Old scars, open like new wounds,

But in that pain, new strength can bloom.”

She waved her hoof again, and a new image stirred in the water.

“Like the strength to save a child.”

The image was me trotting, I was taller than the last one, obviously grown. I knew this area; it was outside New Appaloosa. I watched as the view turned to look over my shoulder, a sleeping filly on my back. With another wave of her hoof, it was the filly screaming at me, her voice calling out from the cauldron; “You’re not my father!” The words bit into me more now than they had then. And then the sight of the filly launching at me, using her Pipbuck to hit me again and again.

“Even one so wild.” The Zebra chuckled.

I turned away from the image. “I didn’t save her, Stranger did, he’s the one that made me.”

“So sure, you are, of your own self,

yet your actions say otherwise.

Like the providing of comfort,

Before one dies.”

A wave of her hoof changed the image to Lilac… Lilly. She lay there, her stomach blown out, listening to Lucky’s story, crying soft tears for him even though she was the one dying.

“I didn’t save her.” I said to the Zebra, looking up at her with narrowed eyes. “She died.”

“Yet you gave her peace and care,

What is saving, if not to make life fair?”

“Fair?” I asked incredulously. “How is any of that fair? She was a slave and then she was killed!”

“She was dealt a powerful hand,

A slave it made her in that land.

Yet you came, you took her, and took her home,

You gave her a chance of happiness, Tome.

What matter is it, if she died on the way?

The love she gained in those days,

The way her life improved, as love did bloom,

In her last hours, chased away her gloom.

What is saving? Is it life? Is it death? Is it a long life and a sudden death?

Is it old age? Is it time?

If so, prized slaves have more than most,

As their owners keep them safe and close.

Saving is love. It is happiness, however fleeting,

Saving is more than living… more than simply breathing.”

I stared into the water, into the face of Lilly as her eyes finally closed and death was able to take her into oblivion. I closed my eyes to the image.

“You are better than you think of yourself,

Heroes often are.

They think-”

“I AM NOT A HERO!” I interrupted, snapping at her violently. I suddenly felt the cold touch of metal on the back of my neck, and a slight turn of my head showed a guard behind me holding a weapon. I gulped as I stood there, at his mercy.

The Zebra looked up to the guard, and after I’d calmed my breathing for the moment, she waved her hoof, and he once again backed off, and left the tent, leaving us alone again.

She seemed to study me, her eyes running over me curiously. She opened her mouth to speak when there was a smash of something nearby. Both our eyes turned to see a younger mare nearby. I had last seen her in the dark, but I remembered her clearly enough to recognise her as the same mare from before.

“Ukoo?”

“Ukoo?”

We both spoke at the same time, and then slowly turned to look at each other. The older Zebra glared a little as she realised that I somehow knew Ukoo, and I felt my cheeks turn scarlet. I should have probably kept my mouth shut.

Ukoo was nearby, standing over a broken vase she was trying to clear up. She noticed the small exchange between me and the other mare, and looked up sheepishly.

“Amejuaje jina lako?” The mare asked, Ukoo looking sheepish at the question. “Je, unakwenda kumwona?”

“Mimi-” Ukoo began before her eyes looked to me, she looked back and bit her lip. “I- I saw… to wounds.” She said unsteadily.

The mare looked at Ukoo suspiciously. “Kwa nini unasema lugha yake?”

“Ah… politeness?” Ukoo gave a smile that was not convincing. “And… I want to… better.”

The mare seemed to sigh at that and gestured for the smaller mare to come over.

“This is Ukoo, she is my…” She thought about it for a moment. “Assistant.”

I noticed the lack of a rhyme, that seemed important. “She doesn’t speak good Equestrian.” I commented, noting Ukoo’s dejected look as she heard my words. I turned to the other mare.

“She is a good learner, excellent study of the things she enjoys,

But if she is not interested, words of learning become just noise.” She gave the young Zebra a look at Ukoo seemed to look a little sheepish at the words, which told me they were probably true.

“She doesn’t enjoy language very much?”

“We are not hear to talk about her, we are here to talk about you.

To see what your past holds, and if our fears for the future are true.”

“What fears?” I was curious now. Who did they think I was?

“Prophesy by the Roho.”

“Who are the Roho?”

She just looked at me and smiled. “They are those that see you coming, and know all, and see what is true.

But you do not need to know them, they know you.”

A sound erupted from outside, a roar that sent a hot shiver of fear down my body. I felt the tail-end of the roar as a growl that sent a vibration through my hooves, and made me feel a little unstable.

“What the hell was that?!” I asked in a mild panic as I backed away from the tent entrance. I heard the guards outside, talking to each other, before they all left, heading for the roar.

“Vitisho from the forest.” She said, a little breathlessly. “We should be safe; we are well protected-”

I didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence. I’d picked up nearby chair and swing it hard. The chair struck her head and she went down without ever knowing what hit her. Ukoo was wide eyed nearby, but I didn’t bother with her. I ran for the back of the tent, scooping up a shard of the vase Ukoo had broken, tore open a large gash and was through it before anypony could stop me.

I had to find the others, and I had to get us the hell out of here!

I ran into the forest, or the jungle, or whatever it was, tripping over vines, forcing myself between trees, this time, letting my ears prick up to catch the sounds of the life around me. I didn’t want to be caught facing down a giant monster again. This place was too green, too colourful, it made my eyes hurt to look around.

I heard a sound behind me, and I jumped through some trees into a clearing, skidded around a tree, picked up a large branch, waited until hooves approached and I swung hard.

I collided with the Zebra, and watched as her body lurched off the ground from the speed she’d been running, and fell to the floor coughing and sputtering.

I dived on the Zebra, my hoof lashing out, prosthetic first to deal as much damage as I could. Hooves encircled my own in a lock, with a swipe of one hoof, the lock on my prosthetic hoof came off, and the entire thing was swept off cleanly, exposing the scarred stump. A strike against the stump had me recoiling in pain, a swift kick struck my testicles, and suddenly hooves wrapped around me, pivoted, and then I was airborne and landing on the ground in a hard thud.

I coughed in an effort to regain myself, my hooves between my legs as I tried my best to swallow my organs back down as they tried to claw up through my throat.

I looked around, grabbed a rock from nearby, and forced myself to my hooves. The other Zebra stood up, I approached to attack but her hooves raised up. “Wait!”

It was Ukoo. I hesitated.

“I not hurt you!” She said almost as a promise.

“You’f already hurt ‘e ‘lenty.” I growled a little around the rock in my maw.

She got to her hooves and checked her bleeding lip where my wooden club has struck her on her way in. “Sorry, instinct. Is your vipande okay?” She asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

I spat the rock to the ground. “My what?”

She thought for a moment, “How you say… erm… balls?”

I grit my teeth. “My balls are fine.” I lied, my hind legs pressing together a little more than usual. “Why did you follow me?”

“To help.” She said, and I couldn’t help but raise my brow at that answer.

“To help?” I asked.

“Yes.” She said, stepping forward. I instinctively took a step back. “I not agree with this war.”

I narrowed my eyes. “War? What war?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion.

“The war. The great war.” She said, almost looking concerned at my confusion.

“What war?” I asked again. “There is no war. The war was over two hundred years ago!”

The Zebra slowly shook her head, her eyes held an incredulous expression, as though she couldn’t fathom how I was ignorant to what she was trying to explain. “No, it was not.”

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Action Stallion – Experience in unarmed combat has given you the edge when it comes to damage. You cause +2 points of damage with hand-to-hand and melee attacks.

A/N: Finally, as many of you know, I haven’t had the best time recently and it killed my ability to write. I’d like to hope I can now do so again, though it took me far longer than I was hoping to finish this latest chapter. I really hope you all like it, I know its not as long as others, I promise future ones will be of the usual longer length. Thank you for your continued support.