Luna took a deep breath and tasted stale air, stagnant water, and moss in the back of her throat. Her eyes fluttered open and adjusted to moonlight spilling across cracked, wet, overgrown flagstones.
She rolled onto her back and looked up into the stern face of a jet-black dalzi with a silver horn and aquamarine eyes.
Luna sighed: “Why here? I thought we had moved beyond rehashing our old haunts from the past.”
The dalzi raised an eyebrow and stepped aside as Luna sat up: “Interesting. I was about to ask you the same question. I did not choose this particular venue.”
Luna rubbed her temples and pulled her cloak close against the damp, chilly air: “Wonderful. Yet another potential complication. Regardless of where we are, what is it you want?
Nightmare Moon frowned and sat down on a fallen piece of masonry, summoning a chalice of wine: “That was a nasty piece of work with Gerrar. It gave even me chills!”
Luna looked away and absently chewed a fingernail: “I do not wish to speak of it. It had to be done…”
Nightmare Moon took a sip of wine and nodded: “Speaking of things that must be done, you have to tell him.”
Luna sighed: “I know. But after last night, it is going to be even harder to convince him of the necessity.”
Nightmare Moon gave her alter ego a flat stare: “If you do not tell him, I will! I can now manifest almost physically, and we are down to the eleventh hour!”
Luna glowered: “Do not dare! I will tell him when we awaken.”
“Perhaps we could bring him in now to this dream, and tell him thusly.”
Luna shook her head: “He is growing increasingly distrustful of anything dream-related. He fears that any encounters between us, even in broad daylight, may be tainted by illusion.”
“Not sure I can blame him. He has spent virtually his entire existence in a state of perfect perception, save for his few years of mortality. So to find himself again in a condition where he can no longer discern reality from dream or hallucination…”
“Particularly where zaka and mets’il are concerned.”
Nightmare Moon’s white grin flashed in her dark face: “Or even just the routine betrayals of his own flesh. Push your rump back a bit and wiggle to see what I mean!”
Luna closed her eyes for a moment then glared: “Please do not probe his dreams, right now! Neither of us need the distraction!”
Nightmare Moon smiled sadly: “In a few days it will no longer matter in any event. Whether his plan succeeds or not, he will be without a living body. Gerrar, at least, went out with a ‘happy ending!’ Surely it cannot hurt to…”
Luna stood, fists clenched: “This audience is over!”
Luna turned over to face Reaper, and watched his eyes dart underneath their lids in the telltale pattern of REM sleep. She lifted the edge of their shared blanket and glanced down at the bulge straining against his breeches. She shook her head and sighed.
Luna reached toward Reaper’s face and cupped his cheek in her palm: “Reaper--please wake up. We have much to do before the next leg of our journey.”
Reaper furrowed his brow as his eyes half-opened: “Luna...still a dream. Good…” His eyes drooped shut and he took a deep, ragged breath.
Luna smiled slightly, leaned forward and kissed Reaper on the forehead. She then slid to the edge of the bed, pulled on the nightshirt she had wrapped around her, and slipped on her boots.
She stood and shivered in the cold air as she rummaged through Reaper’s bag and found a second, larger shirt to slip on over the top of the first. She shuffled over to the fire, blew ash off the coals, and fed in kindling and small sticks until flames appeared and the smoke cleared.
Luna stayed hunched before the fire for a few minutes, warming her hands and feeding in larger fuel, until she could place the water-filled pan next to a hot spot. She then stood and walked to the door.
The clouds had cleared overnight and the chill was bracing. Luna felt the sting of wind-blown snow against her bare legs and face: “I really do miss my coat, sometimes!”
She hurried behind the stone hut where the dalzi sheltered together, and rubbed each one’s muzzle: “Good morning, Bitch! Good morning, Colt! I shall bring you each a bit of something shortly.”
She stepped beside a pile of split firewood and retrieved her saddlebags, setting them on top of the firewood. She then crouched in the lee of the pile where the bags had been, squatted and relieved herself, shuddering as the cold wind gusted up beneath her shirts.
Luna re-entered the hut and hurried to kneel again before the fire, shivering and muttering against the cold. Reaper stirred in the bed behind her and propped himself up on an elbow.
He noticed her boot-shod feet and bare legs: “Did you just go outside bare-assed at this temperature?”
Luna glanced over her shoulder with a grin: “My need was great, and I overestimated my cold tolerance again!”
Reaper furrowed his brow: “If your need was that great, there’s a chamber pot by the door!”
“True, but I wanted to retrieve my bags and say ‘good morning’ to the dalzi. To do all that, required a bit of bare-assed adventuring!”
Reaper chuckled and looked at the pan heating next to the fire as he ran his fingers through his hair: “Ah, good--you have water heating. I’m finally going to have to shave all this off, now.”
Luna nodded and pointed to the clothes draped over the chair: “Yes--time to adopt Gerrar’s guise…”
“Right. I figured I could just take his clothes, though I brought a few spare pieces along, in case there was an altercation.”
Luna glanced guiltily at the quilt-draped body lying next to the opposite wall: “That is clearly no longer a concern…”
Reaper looked at Gerrar’s body then back at Luna’s face: “I understand your feelings, Luna, but again, you did what had to be done.”
“You have to tell him.”
Reaper’s looked around the room: “Tell me what?”
Luna gritted her teeth: “I cannot return to our world without you, Reaper. I, too must die before the gates of Fort Torlek.”
Reaper furrowed his brow in confusion: “What? No! I have the map all updated and corrected! With the two dalzi and a good sword and a brief stop in Rixk’a, you should have little trouble getting back to that old shrine in under a week--tops!”
“He does not understand…”
Luna shook her head: “You and I are bound in a way no two beings have ever been--well, three, to be accurate, but one problem at a time! We came to Kur at the same time and place, and we must leave the same way.”
“No! I alone must--”
“Your power within me must go, too, Reaper. It does not belong in this world.”
“Twilight is bound to my power as well, yet she isn’t here!”
“Ah, listen to him fight! He does not want to see you die!”
Reaper whipped his head back over his shoulder: “That’s right--I don’t! And it isn’t--”
Luna turned her back to the fire and sat cross-legged: “Twilight took up your sword and is now bound to our world. Her portion of your power is not Kur’s problem, nor ours at this juncture.”
Reaper chewed his lip and scowled: “Where is she? Where is Nightmare Moon? Are we in yet another fucking dream?”
Luna smiled sadly: “No, though I appreciate your suspicions. She is sitting behind you, clad only in a copy of my new cloak.”
“You appreciate my suspicions? Not bloody likely! You know all about how to weave in and out of dream states, keeping tabs on what’s real and what’s not! I no longer trust anything I see when you--or is it the two of you--are here!”
Luna nodded: “Understandable. I assure you that you are awake, that I am real, and that Nightmare Moon is with us, though unable to fully manifest herself.”
“Do not be so sure, True Sister…”
Reaper’s eyes went wide as he felt a pair of hands run over his shoulders, down his chest, and into his breeches.
“Ah, did you just wake up, or are you happy to see me?”
Luna glared past Reaper’s shoulder: “Stop that! I have to be as honest as possible in order to ensure we complete this mission! I do not need your interference, and neither does he!”
Reaper lurched off the bed and spun around: “What do you want?”
Luna retrieved the rag from the floor and rinsed it before removing her shirts and beginning to wipe herself down: “She wishes to convince you to stay so that you and she, us--I cannot really tell anymore--can adventure here, conquer here, rule here.”
“You know we can’t do that!”
Luna nodded as she ran the rag across her breasts, carefully cleaning the dagger wound: “I know. But that does not mean she desires it any less.”
Reaper sat down heavily on the edge of the bed: “Luna...I--I can’t watch you die!”
Luna got to her knees and began running the rag between her legs. She looked at Reaper: “You have seen me die before.”
Reaper's eyes clouded and he chewed the inside of his lip: “That was as the Harbinger! Shit, I was half responsible for your death! And it wasn’t that I didn’t care or that it didn’t bother me, it’s just...just...this is different.”
“Dead is dead, is it not?”
Luna shot an ugly look at Nightmare Moon.
Reaper swallowed: “Yes, it is. But I’m not an immortal, cosmic entity now--I’m a man, and to see you die…”
Luna sat back down and soaked the rag in the pan: “You will not need to see that, Reaper. I will die after you.”
“What?”
“My death could possibly throw off the ordained sequence of things. Besides, I came to Kur a bit after you, so there is a certain symmetry to my leaving a few moments later, too.”
Reaper put his head in his hands “I...there must be another way…”
“How ironic, that Death turns out to be squeamish!”
“Enough of that!”
Reaper shook his head: “No, she’s right. Back on our world this never would have been an issue. Death is just a process, a function, an operation. When you and Twilight died, I was concerned, of course. I worried that it wouldn’t work, or that you would suffer, but the process of it all didn’t bother me.”
“It is the same here, Reaper. You will die by spear before Torlek’s gates, and shortly thereafter, I will come onto the field of battle and engage an opponent and fall in a similar manner.”
Reaper looked up with a pained expression.
Luna took a deep breath and poured more water into the pan: “Do not mistake me--I do not relish this. I have no desire to feel a sword across my throat or a spear in my heart, but we both must do what we must.”
Reaper tipped his head back, eyes closed, and sighed heavily: “You’re right, Luna; we don’t really have a choice at this point. The die was cast when you stepped through that portal.”
“Yes. You never would have made it to Torlek without me. Gerrar would have killed you last night.”
“To say nothing of the booze and zaka and cunt, which I must say have been most delightful!”
Luna glared at her alter ego: “That is not helping!”
“No, again she’s probably right. Gods know I’ve found the desires and needs of this flesh much harder to resist than I thought! There’s a decent chance I might have ended up sidetracked somewhere.”
“I too, have felt the hunger of this body. This is a strange, raw world, and it tugs at me in ways I have not felt in centuries, if not longer. It is best for us both to make our exits as soon as Fate allows.”
Reaper sat up straight: “Alright, I guess I need to look the part. How sharp is that dagger? I know Gerrar has shaving gear, but this hair and beard are too thick for that.”
Luna smiled as she settled another log on the fire: “Allow me to wield the blade. I suspect it will be easier to have someone do it for you.”
“Most likely…”
Luna set the rag aside, stood and retrieved her dagger from the floor beside the bed. She swiftly and smoothly sheared Reaper’s hair and beard down to a dense stubble.
“There. You should be able to remove the rest with a razor, I would think.”
“Thank you. I used to shave my face and head routinely. Hopefully it’ll come back to me!”
“I hope so, too! It would be awkward for you to show up looking like you had already been in combat!”
Reaper smiled and retrieved Gerrar’s gear from a niche in the wall beside the bed. He sat out a small, polished silver mirror, a thin blade attached to a bone handle, and a lump of soapy material.
Luna finished scrubbing behind her neck, picked up the pan of water and took it to Reaper: “I believe I am as clean as I can get, given the accommodations. I will dress my various wounds with unguent and get dressed while you finish.”
Reaper nodded and began wetting, soaping and scraping his face and scalp. Slowly his jaw and cheeks and scalp glistened, denuded of hair, slicked with soapy water. He splashed his head and face and toweled off.
He stood and stepped away from the bed, catching Luna’s eye: “So how does it look?”
Luna finished rubbing a rag across her feet and lower legs, and looked up: “Very thorough job. Turn around.”
Reaper held his arms out and turned in a circle.
Luna furrowed her brow as she saw his back: “You’re missing a distinctive scar, otherwise you are, well, your own perfect duplicate.”
Reaper looked over his right shoulder: “Oh, you mean Yunada’s mark? Yeah, there’s no way to duplicate that. Not an issue, though, since I only meet with him for about thirty minutes, and never even take off my tunic or cloak.”
Luna nodded and stood, pulling on her breeches as she did, adjusting and belting them over her hips. She sat in the chair and pulled on stockings and boots. Reaper paused and looked at her bare chest with concern.
“How, exactly, did that cut get there?"
Luna glanced down at her left breast and dabbed at the unguent there: “I cut his breast then mine. I mingled our blood and shared its taste.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “He let you cut him?”
Luna nodded and absently rubbed ointment into her dark nipple: “I offered him the dagger. He took it and put it to my throat, but I turned his hand away and used his own hand to scratch a wound across his chest.”
“Then cut yourself…”
“No. He still had the blade, and I slid beneath him, guiding his member into me, telling him to plunge himself into me twice, if he felt the need. I pulled his hand, and the knife, to my own breast and slashed it across my own skin as he thrust inside me.”
Reaper grimaced and shook his head: “I’m just having a hard time grasping all this.”
Luna nodded and pulled on her camisole, blouse and doublet: “I understand. Until I actually entered that door last night, I was not sure I could do it, either.”
Reaper stood and pulled Luna’s various armor pieces from her bag, and began fitting them to her shoulders, wrists and shins. He stepped back as she adjusted the vambraces.
Reaper pulled her cloak from the chair and draped it over her shoulders, clasping the chain below her throat, before reaching beneath and belting her sword over her doublet and breeches.
He nodded approvingly: “Every inch the T’zesa!”
She smiled: “Escorted by the model Tunzal.”
Reaper raised an eyebrow: “For better or worse. Mostly worse…”
Luna rolled her eyes then stopped, furrowed her brow, and looked at the draped body against the far wall: “Shall we just leave him?”
“Yeah, I mean, with no consciousness, no essence, it’s just a shell. I’d burn this place down around him, but I’d rather not take the time or possibly draw attention to this location. The body will be dead within two or three days in any event.”
Luna nodded and chewed her lip: “I wonder how he’s faring.”
“In his dreamworld-for-one? If he reacts as I did when I first appeared in pony form on an alien world, I assume he’s wandering around in wonder and confusion. But soon enough he’ll start investigating every nook and cranny of the palace, looking for weaknesses--chinks in your armor, as it were.”
“Trying to escape?”
“Possibly. But it’s just as likely that he’ll end up relieved to be done with it all, and be captivated by all Equestria’s engaging, happy denizens, and their equally-captivating rulers.”
Luna sheathed her dagger and finished packing her bags, making sure to keep aside some fruit for the dalzi: “That would be wise. Even were he able to escape the confines of the world I created, he would find himself adrift in the emptiness that stretches between time and space and the stars.”
“I doubt he’d be able to find a way out, anyway. He’s smart, but not that smart, clearly.”
Luna raised an eyebrow and grinned: “Why? Because he was taken in and deceived by me?”
Reaper hefted his bag and glanced over his shoulder at Gerrar’s inert form under its blanket: “Hardly! The brightest strategists and mightiest warriors would fall to you!”
Luna blushed as Reaper opened the door for her.
Reaper followed his companion out and pulled the door tight behind him: “No, it’s because I really wasn’t nearly as smart as I appeared. I was more clever than anything else, and could turn information back around fast, making it seem like I had deep knowledge. There was a lot of luck involved.”
He gazed to the east, down the narrow valley and road leading away from Rutze as Luna loaded her bags on Bitch: “And it was here I cashed-in all that luck.”
He helped Luna up on Bitch’s back, adjusting straps and tightening bits of tack. He then swung up on to Colt’s saddle, and spurred the dalzi forward away from the cabin and onto the the frost-covered road.
Luna pulled her hood up and gazed at the reddening eastern horizon: “Hopefully you can cash it in again.”
Reaper took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It steamed and swirled in the frigid air like odorless smoke: “We don’t need luck this time--we have Fate.”
The two dalzi plodded away as a dark indigo shadow, trimmed in ghostly white lingered in front of the cabin for a few moments before dissolving in the breeze like Reaper’s breath.
“Ah, but whose fate…”