Death and What Comes After - The Price of Loyalty Worldbuilding VII · 6:14am Nov 4th, 2014
“Star Swirl, what are we doing?”
The thirteen-year-old filly won a bothering of Star Swirl’s beard, and the old wizard also offered her a smile. “We’re going to meet a very, very old friend of mine.”
“In the astronomy tower?”
Bells rang as Star Swirl shook his head. “No, Diadem. Somewhere much farther than that. Or maybe much closer, depending on how you approach the question.” With golden magic, he pulled the door to the newly built tower of the Everfree City palace wide open, and beckoned her enter. Outside, a fine railing let the wizard and the student look out on a growing city of lights and bricks, centered in an emerald field beneath the stars.
The elder of the pair took a long breath, and tilted his head back. “Luna has certainly blessed us tonight.”
“Luna?” Diadem gave the archmage a curious glance. “Is that some weird name for Lunis?”
Star Swirl smiled. “A very old one, yes. But before you ask, Diadem, she isn’t the friend I was referring to. How many cantrips do you know these days?”
Diadem smiled. “Eighteen!”
“Oh? Clover’s let you get a bit ahead, hasn’t she? When I was your age, I knew thirteen cantrips. One for every year old I was.” Star Swirl bothered his beard again. “Unfortunately, there aren’t seventy-six cantrips, or I’d be quite the wizard.” His horn pointed briefly at the floor of the platform, and a seven-pointed star within a circle began to glow in gold. “We aren’t here to talk about my foalhood, though. We’re here to teach you the last school of magic.”
Diadem took a step backward, eyes widened. “You’re gonna teach me necromancy? But… what if I mess up? What if—”
A sigh escaped Star Swirl’s lips, and he wrapped a foreleg over Diadem’s shoulders. “Diadem, Diadem… You are the brightest young unicorn I’ve ever seen, and you have never once failed to pick up a spell the same day you learned it. I just wish you’d stop and think about that. I don’t want to give you an ego, Diadem, but a bit of confidence would do you some good. I’m here. Now step up beside me, and listen. We’re going to perform the first cantrip of necromancy. Do you know the name?”
Diadem nodded. “Seance.”
“Very good. Now, to understand what we’re going to do, you need to know a lot about souls. But I won’t be the one to teach you. Reaching your mana into the Between or the Summer Lands is quite different than manipulating the physical world.” His horn lit up again in gold, and tossed to Diadem a well polished wooden shaft. The filly’s teal magic caught it casually.
“Levitate that over the center of the septacle and focus your mana on it. You’ll need a fair measure; at least enough to pick up a small cart. I’ll help you guide it for this first cast, so you can learn how it feels, since the school is new to you.”
She focused, and felt the familiar tingle of Star Swirl’s magic, reminding her of the scent of pine needles and the scratch of his namesake beard. He led her along by her magic, into the center of the septagram, and then…
“Whoa! What is that? What just happened?” Diadem held her eyes closed as she focused on following her mentor’s lead. Her magic felt heavy, constricted, as if surrounded by pressure on all sides.
“Our magic is in the Between. The other side of our world; a place made of pure mana. It feels like being underwater, doesn’t it?”
“Like being really deep,” Diadem replied. “And… something is pulling me. Besides you, I mean.”
Star Swirl chuckled. “The Between is divided up into smaller worlds. In the same way that our world has nations, like Equestria, or what’s left of the Diamond Kingdom, or the dragon’s lands. The Between has afterlives where other souls go. The Gray Woods for the Elk. Valhalla for the griffons, at least if Commander Hurricane’s stories are to be believed. And for us, the Summer Lands.”
Diadem frowned. “And Tartarus?”
“Yes. Though… Tartarus isn’t purely mana, like the rest of the afterlives. It’s an enormous cavern in the earth, where the Between overlaps the physical world. If the stories of the Diamond Dogs are true, you can dig anywhere, and when you get deep enough, you find other overlapping places. But we aren’t concerned with that for now. Let’s head to the Summer Lands.”
Diadem chuckled. “You’re not that old, Star Swirl.”
“Aren’t I?” Star Swirl’s beard tickled the young mare’s ear as he leaned over to her. “How many seventy-six year old unicorns do you see walking around? Most ponies my age would keel over from a common cold. Now, brace yourself; this is a bit of a strange sensation.”
Star Swirl’s warning panned out in the form of a widespread tingling that swept down from the tip of Diadem’s horn, and left her whole body shaking. It wasn’t quite pleasant, but rather came across like an incredibly slow shock.
“This… we’re in the Summer Lands?”
“Our magic is,” Star Swirl replied. “You can’t go to the Summer Lands while you’re alive. It isn’t a physical place. Now, focus on the staff again… and… open your eyes.”
Diadem let her eyelids slide open, and then promptly stumbled backward. A rather beautiful unicorn mare smiled at her from the center of the astronomy tower’s wide platform, leaning casually against her wooden staff. Her golden mane danced gently in an unfelt breeze, and her well groomed coat of sky blue seemed the perfect compliment for her cherry red surcoat.
“Star Swirl?” She asked with a tone of obvious amusement. “Things certainly have changed a lot since the last time we spoke. Where are we? This doesn’t look like River Rock.”
Star Swirl coughed into his hoof. “Ma’am, River Rock was attacked, and we packed up and moved. It’s… a rather long story. This place is Everfree City, the capital of Equestria.”
“Equestria?” The mare smiled. “Well, now, Lapis certainly had his way with names, didn’t he?”
The wisps of a smile hidden behind Star Swirl’s beard disappeared. “Lapis passed away. Haven’t you heard from him?”
“He was thirteen when I died, Swirly. Why would he—” The mare’s words died off to the sound of barely suppresed giggling. Both adult ponies turned toward Diadem, who held a hoof over her mouth desperately
Finally, Diadem could hold it in no longer. “Swirly? Wow, that’s amazing, Star Swirl. I didn’t know you had a nickname.”
“Ma’am, this enthusiastic filly is Diadem. Diadem, this is my mentor, Archmage Comet.”
Comet smiled at Diadem. “A pleasure to meet you. But Swirly, didn’t you already have an apprentice? Or is this another one of your rivalries with Shimmy?”
“Don’t call him that.” Star Swirl snapped. In the ensuing lack of speech, the old wizard adjusted his hat, releasing the rings of a few bells. As the noise died away, the stallion’s eyes widened. “Has Wintershimmer taken an apprentice?”
Comet shook her head. “I’m beginning to suspect he never will, either. He summons me once in a while, but I always feel like his mother. ‘Now, Wintershimmer, have you met any nice mares yet? When do I get my grandapprentices?’”
Diaper, who had managed to overcome her giggling fit, stepped forward. “Who’s Wintershimmer?”
“Oh, he’s an old friend of your master. Wintershimmer the Stubbled, we used to call him. My other student. He and Star Swirl were practically joined at the cutie mark, sixty years ago.”
Star Swirl scowled again, lowering his hat to try and hide the irritation in his eyes. “He was a sad wizard who didn’t understand the difference between the ability to do something, and the right to do it. King Lapis banished him from River Rock under pain of death.”
Comet stepped back. “Wait, what?”
“It’s a long story, Ma’am, and I’ll be glad to tell you when I join you. I can’t imagine you’ll have to wait long,” Star Swirl replied with forced calm. “And as for you, Diadem: all you need to know for now is that he abused necromancy, and illusion as well. Now, Comet, if you don't mind, Diadem has a bit to learn regarding necromancy.”
A cocksure glance slid its way out of the corner of Comet’s eyes. “Ah, alright. Diadem, is it? Let’s get started. Given that you’re competent enough to have summoned me, you’re probably smart enough to have figured out that I’m dead. The ‘me’ you’re seeing in front of you is my soul: basically, my memories and personality and those sort of ephemeral bits and pieces that make a pony who they really are, all wrapped up and held together in a nice shell of mana. Fun fact about that: come over her and touch me.”
Diadem nervously turned toward Star Swirl for advice, and the old wizard gave her a nod. Tentatively, the filly wandered into the septacle, and extended a shuddering hoof toward Comet. After a small eternity, her hoof made contact… and kept on going, right into the mare’s chest. “Whoa!” With shock, the filly hurled herself backward.
“A little tingly, aren’t I? This ‘body’ is pure mana, Diadem; it doesn’t feel very good to touch. I did warn you.”
“Yeah…” Diadem rubbed her hoof. “Okay, so… you’re a soul, and Star Swirl and I summoned you here?”
“Correct.” Comet tapped her physical staff on the stone floor of the tower. “Now, its generally considered rude to interrupt somepony else’s eternal rest to pester them with questions. The exception, for you, is your master Star Swirl.”
“I’m not her master, Ma’am. Clover is. Though I don’t mind her summoning me if she needs advice, when that day comes.”
Comet frowned. “I see. Alright. Diadem, the rule with mages is simple. When Star Swirl trained Clover, and now you, he summoned me to provide a willing and safe example of how to use this magic respectfully. In a few decades, when you take an apprentice, you will summon Star Swirl to teach that lucky foal. And when your apprentice is beginning to turn gray and teach an apprentice of their own, they’ll summon you. That’s what we archmages of River Rock have agreed on since the days of Twilight the Dreamwalker. Are you comfortable with that agreement?”
Diadem gave a timid nod.
“Good. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you. In fact, it’s always a bit fun. The Summer Lands are quite comfortable and luxurious, but every once in a while, I do sometimes miss a bit of struggle or strife. It doesn’t hurt at all, at least supposing the summoner is halfway talented. I’m not just hear to tell you about the deal, though.”
“You’re not? Are we going to do the other two necromancy—”
“No,” Star Swirl cut the filly off. “Those will come later, with Clover. Today, Diadem, you need to learn about spirits, and shades, and the other world.”
“Would you like any more of my thunder, Swirly?” Comet grinned at her former student, and then returned her attention to Diadem. “Let’s start with the Between. Star Swirl may have already mentioned this to you: the world of pure mana that exists between this one and the afterlives.”
Diadem nodded.
“When a pony dies, their soul leaves their body with whatever mana they happened to have at the time, and drifts off to the between. On that journey, some sort of magic guides them to either Celestis or Lunis, depending on whether they died beneath the sun, or the moon.”
“The old stories always said both the sisters judged you when you died.”
Comet shot a knowing glance to Star Swirl. “Not quite all the stories are true. But yes, one or the other. In my case, it was a rather pleasant, but brief conversation with Lunis that answered quite a few of my questions about the world, before she guided me on to the Summer Lands.”
Diadem’s eyes widened with an idea. “Can we summon her? Can—”
The crack of Comet’s staff on the floor made Diadem twitch. “Did you not hear what we just said, Diadem? Do not summon other ponies unless they consented in life, or the need is extremely dire.” Then, with a softer expression, she added another thought. “Also, it’s quite difficult to summon somepony who isn’t actually dead.”
Star Swirl winced, noticeably, at the joke. Though Comet clearly saw, she made no comment. “Now, all spirits—that’s a term we use to describe beings of pure mana—are ‘psychovores’. Rather than getting nutrition by eating or drinking, we gather the mana that makes up our bodies by eating memories. Or, more accurately and more pleasantly, by the act of being remembered.”
“So… we’re feeding you now? By having you here?”
Comet nodded. “After a sense. There are some spirits… and other physical creatures… that will harm you by feeding off of your thoughts and actions. But a soul like me is harmless. You don’t forget the memories when they give me mana. That’s just a happy side effect.”
“I’ll be sure to remember you every night then!”
“In most cases, it doesn’t actually make a difference. The Summer Lands actually absorbs all the incoming mana, and distributes it equally amongst the ponies inside; not enough to do any really fancy magic, but certainly enough to stay healthy and content, and for a little magic if you need it. That’s how the spell sustains itself—”
Star Swirl cleared his throat quite loudly. “Why don’t we talk about the alternative?”
“Fair enough. You’re the master now.” Comet rolled her eyes. “Souls in the Between have it a little different off. They get mana from memories, but they can also steal it from one another.”
“There’s a spell to steal mana?”
Comet shook her head. “It’s a bit more gruesome than that, Diadem. Remember, our bodies are made of mana.”
Diadem recoiled in slight shock. “They eat each other?”
“Souls in the Between tend to go crazy after a few hundred years. But I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, a soul can’t die. Instead, if it runs out of mana, or if that mana is somehow torn apart or consumed, the personality and memories and bits don’t stay together any more. They sort of… split off. We call that ‘dispersion’. Eventually, the little bits of memory and personality do get back together; they’re naturally attracted to one another. The problem is, they don’t know how they all fit together. The soul that comes back is usually twisted, or warped. Corrupted. The stronger their willpower, the less damage is dealt, but after two or three dispersions, you can trust you won’t have the same sort of soul you started with. Disperse too many times, and they stop being just a soul, and start being… something else.”
“What?”
“Windigoes,” Star Swirl whispered. “If you care for an example you’ll have heard of.”
“Windigoes?” Comet’s eyes widened. “There haven’t been windigoes since the days of King Malachite.”
“The snow in River Rock begs to differ,” Star Swirl replied, rather icily.
“So… the Windgoes used to be ponies? And Commander Hurricane just… just destroyed them?”
“No, he merely dispersed them,” Star Swirl corrected.
Comet picked up. “As I said, Diadem, you cannot ‘kill’ a soul. That which is dead cannot die. Returning to our topic, as a soul is dispersed, or as it hungers and changes, its personality begins to change. To warp. Eventually, they stop identifying as whoever they were in life, and start seeing themselves as other things. Spirits of ice and song and temptation and rage and shadow. And instead of feeding off of memories, these creatures feed off other thoughts. Hatred. Desire. And, in one terrible case, chaos.
“However, as you can probably tell from holding me here with your magic, it takes a not-insignificant amount of mana to keep a body of pure mana in the physical world for any length of time. So, while these creatures are often extremely powerful and extremely dangerous in the Between, they generally come to the physical world weak, hungry, and desperate. For that reason, you see the behavior of Windigoes: they actively seek to cause conflict, so that they can feed and strengthen themselves.”
“So, what do we do, when spirits come?” Diadem anxiously rubbed a forehoof down her neck.
“There isn’t much to do, save dispersing them. A physical sword or spear won’t harm them, but magic works just as well on them as it will a living pony, in most circumstances.”
“But Clover said Commander Hurricane just stabbed them…”
“When you’re ready to learn a bit more about empatha, Diadem, you and Clover and I will see if we can’t borrow Commander Hurricane’s sword.”
Comet cocked her head. “You’ve mentioned him twice now; who is this ‘Commander Hurricane’?”
“He’s the pegasus ruler,” Diadem explained with a smile. She hunched up her shoulders and donned her best formal scowl, trying to look angry and serious at the same time. “I’m Commander Hurricane and I lead the army. I’m a great general, but a lousy dad, and I don’t understand what ‘delegation’ means.”
“Lighten up, Diadem,” Star Swirl directed, though his bells shook with his amusement. “Hurricane does the best he can; that’s as much as I can say for any of us.”
“That does actually make an interesting point.” Comet extended her hoof. “You see, Diadem, once you’re free of a physical body, you’ll realize something very interesting. While we spirits don’t make our own mana the way living bodies do, we have a luxury that you don’t.” And with those words, her hoof burst into flame. “We can use all three types of magic. Empatha and endura, as well as arcana. And we can mix them up. That’s actually what some spirits will do: combine all three types of mana and form themselves a new body to inhabit, out of pure nothing. Of course, a spirit doesn’t stay attached to a physical body easily, so they still need more mana to hold themselves together and stay in the physical world.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Diadem nodded. “So… why do spirits try to come here, then? If the Between is all mana, and they can feed there… why the physical world?”
“Well, you didn’t know me before. But you’ll remember me now, won’t you?” Comet smiled. “Make a big enough impression, and even if you have to go back to the Between, you’ll be raking in mana for years.”
“Eh, maybe a little while. But ponies forget eventually, right?”
Comet scratched her chin with the head of her staff. “Ever heard of Tirek?”
Diadem’s jaw dropped. “Tirek is real? Like, the King of Tartarus?”
“He’s actually its most famous prisoner, but yes, Tirek is very real. And believe me, Diadem, his story is older than the Diamond Kingdoms. Ponies die, nations crumble, mountains erode and magic fades. But stories… stories are immorality.”
“So if you were really famous when you were alive, you’d have a ton of mana anyway?”
Comet shrugged. “I suppose. Though, if you also lived a good life, it doesn’t make much of a difference. That sort of mana is only really useful if you somehow ended up in Tartarus.”
“Or the Between, right?” Diadem pressed. “How does a soul get there, anyway?”
“Necromancy,” Comet answered. “You see, the way Celestis and Lunis gather souls… it only works once. When you pull a soul like me back, you have to make sure you guide us back where we came from. Otherwise, when the spell runs out…”
“That’s horrible!” Diadem frowned. “And then they turn into a spirit?”
“If they can’t gather enough mana to escape on their own. Those who can usually manifest themselves, and try to go about living their lives, since they haven’t been corrupted yet. We call those unfortunate souls shades.”
“Do they just… live?”
“After a sense…” Comet’s staff dragged along the ground, stopping before her, where she could lean her weight on it. “A soul always wants to go back to the Between, Diadem. It knows where it belongs. You can hold a soul in the living world, but that doesn’t get rid of the ‘tug’. A soul is always anchored somewhere. If it can’t return to the site of that so-called ‘anchor’, it starts to twist and bend, even if it isn’t dispersed.”
“So… no matter what, that’s what happens to all souls outside of the Summer Lands? Eventually?”
“Well, no. Not exactly. If a soul in the Between just lets itself run out of mana, once it has truly been forgotten, it will fade away.”
“What happens then?”
Comet shrugged. “The next great mystery. No one knows.”
Diadem pouted. “Aww, I wanted to know.” With no answer, she readjusted her lip. “Alright, then, what about the other option?”
“The twenty-first cantrip, Diadem. Binding. Ripping away a soul’s anchor from the Between, and sticking it back into a body. Stripping away their free will, and turning them into a tool. Driving them slowly mad, with no means of escape. In the best case, when they body they are tethered to is broken, the spirit goes free, wanders the world for a few days, and is then dispersed. In the worst case, the spirit is trapped inside a broken husk, unable to so much as move, until they somehow gather enough mana to escape.”
At Diadem’s look of abject fear, Comet put on her friendliest smile. “Come now, Diadem. I only have a little bit more time with you for this summoning, if the way my hoof is wavering is any indication. Do you have anything else you’d like to ask before I depart?”
In some fashion Heh, it's starting to feel like Wintershimmer like going to be an important character in some fashion.
Interesting. So the Summer Lands spell is like a formalized Day of the Dead festival, with the incoming "remembering" carefully distributed to all of the residents?
Hah!
These have been just fascinating.
Discord (in his prime) must have been exceptionally powerful, to have the mana to not only manifest and maintain himself, but to have the huge inpact in the physical world as well. But I suppose he can generate his own power when he gets in the swing of things. His origins must be quite interesting.
So, when we die and our souls enter the Between, do our souls get judged by Celestis or Lunis, to determine whether we will be sent to the Summer Lands or Tartarus? If so, how does that process work?
If you send somepony to Tartarus, isn't that a bit risky considering how directly anchored it is to the "real" world? Is the soul of a young pony also drawn to the Beyond and if not why isn't it? Why do the souls go to Celestia and Luna the first time but not again after necromancy?