I do not often entertain visitors. This suits me. Potions and rituals are things best conducted in private. When a knock came at my door, I knew who to expect.

"Good evening, Zecora!" she said. "I'm sorry to bother you at such an hour, but I thought you might know the answers to some questions." Twilight Sparkle is a very polite guest.

"Greetings, Twilight! Please come in.
You seem quite eager to begin."

She wasted no time in levitating pen and paper from her bags.

"Do you know anything about the origins of Tartarus? I've been planning to write a report, and..." She trailed off when she saw the darkness on my face.

I looked to the masks adorning my walls. Each one represented a spirit of virtue, and now I looked to Wisdom for help.

"The knowledge you seek is truly ancient.
These stories have been known to leave strong minds bent.
If stories of Tartarus are what you crave,
Use well the knowledge, lest it lead to your grave."

Astonishment is unbecoming of Twilight, but after I spoke those words, several beats passed in silence.

"I think I can handle it." Twilight's eyes narrowed. "In fact, I think it's my responsibility to learn. Ponies everywhere should know about such things, and I'll be the one who's brave enough to find out and tell them."

Twilight's dedication was heartening. I turned to face her with a softened expression—and nodded.

Twilight's pen, glowing in the grip of her magic, hovered over her pad as I began.

“Tartarus, the under-city, prison of terrors.
The stories are wild and full of errors.
You know, I imagine, of its long disuse,
But you may not have heard of its tragic misuse.
A bottomless pit? Kings saw it as useful
For disposing of anything they saw as harmful.
Cursed gold, evidence, even their nemeses--
Tartarus just fed their brutish, crass tendencies.
But Tartarus still served its intended goal:
For Goddesses to seal away demon and troll.
Tartarus was sealed, but thanks to the ages,
There lived no scholars, no priests or sages
Who could hope to count all the horrors within--
Yet to this day brave and foolish go in
Hoping to scavenge a fabulous prize
Though few ever enter and leave there alive.
My dear Twilight, you now know the tale
Of Tartarus: Graveyard. Treasure trove. Jail.

My story ended, but Twilight's quill continued scratching for a long time more. Then I heard her pack her notes and prepare to leave. “Thank you, Zecora. I hate to leave so quickly, but I'd really like to get this down.”

She started to leave. I made to open the door for her.

“Oh, and... Zecora?”

I turned to face Twilight.

“How did you know all this? You don't keep books around... were you told by somepony, or...”

I smiled as I told Twilight an old lie.

“My people are well-versed in verbal tradition.
There are those, such as I, who make it our mission
To remember the stories, no matter how ancient...

I coughed, and looked to my masks again. Twilight nodded, and left.

The mask I looked at this time was a very old one: Divinity. Unlike the others, I had not carved it with my own hoof. This mask, I found. Recovered, as it were. From a very dark and dangerous place.

I know many secrets. Some of them, I have heard. Others, I have seen with my own eyes. I do not share all of them. This secret, I intend to hold close.