//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 // Story: The God Of Breaking Rules in the Land of the Dead // by alarajrogers //------------------------------// Deep inside his tomb of rock, the god of breaking rules lamented his failure, for now he was imprisoned and his lady was still dead, and never would he be reunited with her. "I told you I would have you someday," Rock gloated. "Rock is eternal, unchanging. Now that you are my prisoner, the rules will never again be broken, and the world shall stay as it is, as unchanging as I am, forever." "We will see about that," the god of breaking rules said, but it was mere bravado, for he knew it was unlikely that he would be able to break free. He attempted to use his magic to free himself, but deep within the domain of the Earth, the strength of rock is unparalleled. Though he fought fiercely and even broke rock in places, rock still held him firmly. Sometimes the broken pieces of rock still jiggle and slide against each other, and when that happens there is an earthquake. He tried to summon fire against rock, a fire so strong that even rock would burn, and melted holes in the rock. But rock simply became solid again, turning into mountains around those holes. Because the god of breaking rules had granted dragons immunity to fire, they came to live in those mountains, swimming in the molten rock as they please. But the god's body was only half dragon, so even if he could have made such a hole for himself, he could not swim through it without burning himself to death. When his magic was exhausted, the god began to weep for his lost love and his own hopelessness. Eventually he cried himself to sleep, and in his sleep, the Lady of Dreams visited him. "Why do you weep, god of breaking rules?" she asked him. "I weep for my love, who is dead, and for my failure to rescue her and return her to the land of the living," the god said. The Lady of Dreams lowered her head. "I am jealous," she admitted softly. "I was a mortal mare myself once, taken by the Lord of the Dead to be his wife so long ago, I can barely remember what it was like. But even though I have eternal life as a goddess of dreams, and your mare is a mortal who died, I feel that she has a richer treasure than I do, for she has true love, and I do not." "Does not your husband, the Lord of the Dead, love you?" the god asked. "No," she said. "Death is cold and impartial. Death comes to all in even measure; he plays no favorites, and he cannot love. He took me when he was younger, when he thought perhaps a mare could awaken his heart and teach him how to feel love, but a dead heart cannot beat. And while ponies love the joyous dreams I craft for them, they fear the dark ones, and call me Nightmare, though such dark dreams are often what they need to warn them of a danger in their future or to help them resolve a conflict in their heart. No one loves me, god of breaking rules. And so I envy your love." "Then it is too bad that I will never get free of this prison," the god lamented. "For I could bring you with me to the surface world, when I bring my love, and you could walk among ponies as one of their own, and befriend them. You are a beautiful mare; surely somepony would love you! It's a tragedy that such beauty should be held tightly in the hooves of one who cannot feel love. But there is nothing I can do, for I cannot escape this stone." "I could help you," the Lady of Dreams said. "Perhaps I could persuade my husband to free you... but you would have to promise to free me when you rescue your love. I am tired of seeing the world only through the dreams of ponies. I wish to be a pony again and walk on the earth in the light of the moon, not merely drift through dreams." "I will gladly make that promise," the god said. "But if your husband does not love you, you will never be able to persuade him to free me. He hates me for trying to break his law." The Lady of Dreams' ears drooped, and her head bowed even lower. But the god said, "However, perhaps you can persuade him to take me from this tomb to torment me." "To torment you!" the Lady of Dreams cried. "Why would you want me to ask him to do that?" "Because the darkness and silence and loneliness of a stone prison are worse for me than any pain I could suffer," the god admitted. He might not have admitted to such a thing if he were awake, but this was a dream, and in dreams, all tongues are loosened. "Tell him to put me on display to punish me and teach any who would see me the consequences of breaking the law of life and death. Because he is angry at me, he will follow such a suggestion from one that he trusts, even if he does not love her. And if you say such things to him then he will not believe that you are conspiring with me. He'll never see it coming." "My heart is soft, and I will have difficulty doing as you say," the Lady of Dreams said. "But it is much as with the dark dreams I bring; if I bring you suffering in this way, it may be to your benefit. So I will do it." Thus she went to her husband, and said, "My lord, I think you have made a mistake, locking the god of breaking rules away in a dark stone prison." The Lord of the Dead scowled at her. "It is no more than he deserves!" "True, but perhaps it may be less than he deserves," the Lady of Dreams said. "He tried to break your law, and yet you put him in a dark place where he will be forgotten, and none will remember his transgression. A foal cannot learn from the consequences that others suffered if he never learns that others suffered consequences. Would it not be better to punish him publicly, and thus let all know what dire fate lies in store for any who break your laws?" The Lord of the Dead considered this. "Your words have merit, my wife," he said. "I will consider this." It is the nature of those who rule without compassion and with inflexible laws that they take pleasure in the thought of the punishments meted out to those who break the law. So this plan pleased the Lord of the Dead, and he set to carrying it out. So the god of breaking rules was dragged from his stone tomb to be tormented and put on display. They put an iron ring on his horn, to keep him from using his magic, and then began the torment, at the orders of the Lord of the Dead. Imps and goblins whipped him, but they did not remove Bear's thick coat from his back, so his suffering was not too severe. The Lord of the Dead saw this and felt that the torment was not enough. Ifrits and windigos lowered him by his wrists into a pit of flame, but his dragon tail was impervious to flame, so he did not burn. The Lord of the Dead was angered, and felt that the torment was not enough. Changelings and rock monsters held him down, by his limbs, his tail, his wings and his head, and a venomous toad was brought, to spit into his eyes. This caused him terrible pain, and the god writhed and screamed and begged, so at last the Lord of the Dead was satisfied that the torment was enough. The venom corroded the god's very eyeballs, turning whites and iris both to a solid yellow, the color of the clear liquid that seeps from a wound or the crust that forms around one that is healing. It sank into his pupils and stained them blood red, tearing one open wider and causing the other to curl inward on itself with pain, making it smaller. Now that he had been punished, he was placed on display. He was bound into a ball of concentric iron rings, where one ringed him from head to tail, and the others circled around him, and the ball was hung suspended from the ceiling in the court of the Lord of the Dead. His arms were suspended above his head. His mouth was clamped shut with an iron muzzle, which was bound to the ring in front of him, so he was forced to lower his head. His legs were spread and bound to the two sides of the ring that circled him top to bottom, where they intersected with the lowest of the rings that went around him back to front. His tail and wings were bound to the rings as well. There is no day or night in the Land of the Dead, so the god could not know how long he hung there, being shown to all the spirits and demons of the Land of the Dead as a demonstration of why no one should try to break the rule of life and death. They pelted him with rotten things, and dirt, and sometimes rocks; those that had lips to do so spat in his face and his eyes, which were healing but still in great pain from the venom; and sometimes creatures bit him and drank some blood or nibbled at some flesh. The time he hung in the cage was misery, yet for all his suffering, he still thought it better than the stone tomb. His eyes burned, but they could still see somewhat, so the fact that he was in the dim light of the Palace of the Dead was an improvement over the darkness of a stone tomb. And if only he could get his muzzle free so he could talk, he had a plan to escape. At times he was left alone; even in the Land of the Dead, where none do truly sleep, there are times of rest. During those times, when none could see him, he pulled at the iron muzzle, hour by hour, day by day. Sweat, and occasional blood from the times when something they threw hit his face, slid down his face and under the muzzle, and the moisture made it easier for him to slip it off, a width of a single hair at a time. As he pulled and pulled, his muzzle lengthened and thinned, until at last when he pulled free, he resembled a goat more than a pony. But now, at least, he could speak. "Iron, you are so very strong," he said, praising his captor. "So very steadfast! Why, as hard as I have tried to escape you, all I have managed to do is free my mouth, and that at the cost of warping my face into a new shape. I do not think I would dare do that for any of my limbs or my tail!" "That is wise," Iron said. "Because what you say is true. I am strong, and I am steadfast. I alone have the power to break magic, or to channel it. Swords made from me can cut any other metal, and shatter even crystals that are too hard to cut. I can make a wheel for a pony's carriage that will never wear out, or be the beams of a house so tall a pony cannot easily see the top." "You are very impressive," the god agreed. "And yet I see that no other metal embraces you easily! Copper is well loved, marrying with zinc, tin or aluminum; gold and silver mate freely with each other, or with copper; yet the only substance that embraces you is the ash that is the essence of life, and that is no metal. Aren't you lonely with no other metal to love you?" "I am lonely," Iron admitted. "The ash of life is imbued in me to strengthen me against water and make me shine bright, but the substance of life mates with all things, and gives its best attention to the things that live. I would like to know the embrace of another metal. But if it is not to be, then so be it. I remain steadfast in my duties." "Well, Iron," the god said. "I know of a love spell that would make you irresistible, and cause other objects made of metal to embrace you passionately even without fire to melt you into one another. You could remain steadfast in your duties, never melting, and still know the loving touch of metal." "But why would you give me such a thing?" Iron asked. "I am your captor; my duty is to hold you fast, so others can see the folly of doing as you have done. Why would you do anything to aid me?" "You are so steadfast, I have come to recognize that I will never be free unless you release me, and you are so sworn to your duties, that will not happen unless the Lord of the Dead commands it," the god said. "I will be your prisoner for a very long time. So is it not better for me to do favors for you, so that you will treat me more kindly? You hold me still in this ball, but the ball hangs from a chain of you, which can swing back and forth. If you could find it in your heart to hold that motion still, so that those who come to torment me cannot fling me about, my situation would be much improved, but I would still be your prisoner and it would be no violation of your duty to do such a thing." "So you are bargaining for better treatment," Iron said. "Yes. Is it working?" asked the god. "I would like to know the love of another metal," Iron said. "Very well, god of breaking rules. I will hold you still, and in return you will cast a love spell on me that will make me irresistible." "Oh, but there is only one problem," the god said. "You are also blocking my magic. I cannot cast any spell without it." "I will not free your horn," Iron said. "That would be dereliction of my duties. But I can stop breaking the magic you cast, so that you can cast one spell. After that I must block your magic again." "That is fair," the god said. So Iron freed the god's magic for one spell. And the god broke the rule of up and down, and cast it onto Iron. Normally things are flung from the sky alone, and cling to the ground alone, unless they are fastened or catapulted. But the force of the god's love spell, cast on Iron, caused it to love itself so much that it would cling to itself, without fastening, and with force as great as the force that makes things cling to the ground. Yet as the cage collapsed in on itself, the rings that bound the god twisting to embrace each other, Iron came to hate itself so much for falling for the god's trickery that parts of it were repulsed from other parts with a force as strong as that which makes things fall from the air. And that is why Iron alone is magnetic. The twisting of the cage as it came together tore the god's limbs off entirely, for his limbs were not as strong as iron, and when iron chains and iron rings clung fast to each other it was soft flesh that gave way. But the iron ring on his horn flew free and clung to the other parts of Iron, so the god's magic was freed moments before his limbs were torn from him. With all his power returned to him, it was a simple matter to break the rule of iron, and make the cuffs that still held his body parts corrode into rust even without the presence of water. With the cuffs corroded, the body parts were freed, and the god's magic summoned all his parts back to him and reassembled himself. He healed his eyes so he could see as well, but the god of breaking rules cannot perform any magic that does not break a rule, so the rule he chose to break was the one that said that healed wounds should look healed. So his eyesight was restored, but the appearance of his eyes after they'd been burned by the venom remained. Wasting no time, now that his body was restored, he went straight from the Lord of the Dead's palace to find his love.