Death Be Not Proud

by ShinigamiDad

Zaka

“Luna--please wake up.”

She stirred slightly and grimaced as her shoulders stretched, bringing a fresh wave of pain and light bleeding from her wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sure that hurts. I’ve found something that may help.”

Luna’s eyes cracked open a bit, then fluttered shut again: “How...long?”

“Have you been asleep?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s see: I slept another three hours or so after our dream encounters. I then got up, headed out and came back, and you’ve been asleep that whole time.”

Reaper moved away from the blanket and stoked the fire: “So, a total of nine hours. Do you feel a bit better?”

“Thirsty.”

“I figured. I refilled the water bottle and flask. I also ran across some winter berries, and a patch of zaka. It’s dried-out, but still has some potency left.”

Luna took the flask from Reaper and propped herself up on an elbow: “Zaka?”

Reaper stroked his beard for a moment: “Hmm. It’s a mildly-narcotic plant. It’s typically chewed, especially the uncultivated stuff, but can be steeped or cooked-down or smoked, depending on one’s desire. It’s uncommon to find it wild in these northern climes, but not unknown. There’s a bit of a marsh east of here where I found the berries and the zaka.”

Luna took a drink from the flask and sat up, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. She held a withered leaf of zaka in her hand, then popped it in her mouth and chewed: “It tastes a bit like mint, yes?”

Reaper nodded: “Yes, and you’ll start to get some pain relief from it shortly. In its raw form, chewed, it’s not very strong, but it should help some.”

“How much further to the village?”

“Based on my notes and recollection of that map, we’re likely still a solid day north-ish of Rixk’a. And if at all possible, I want to get you mounted on Bitch so we can make it by nightfall.”

Luna furrowed her brow: “That will be odd--to ride mounted on the back of another.”

Reaper smiled: “Probably, and you’ll need to switch positions a few times as we go, since we don’t have a saddle, and no matter how you sit, you’re likely to get sore.”

“You were gone for several hours, you said. Where did you go?”

Reaper left the fire and sat next to Luna, taking the flask from her: “Other than the marsh to the east? I retraced our steps to the garrison, looking out for any additional otsal, or other travelers. I didn’t see any trace of other people or animals, so I followed the stream south about two miles. There’s a bit of a trail heading out from the garrison, so our trip down to Rixk’a should be easier.”

Luna nodded and spat out the chewed leaf: “How long does this retain its potency?”

“Dried like this? Maybe ten minutes at a time. I have more, so if you’d like something to eat, just toss that wad and I’ll give you some fresh later.”

Luna shook the wet, green mass from her palm and took back the water flask, rinsing and swallowing before taking some of the pale blue berries Reaper held.

“I cannot place the flavor of these--a sort of sour pear, perhaps?”

Reaper shrugged: “Remember, I don’t have a lot of flavor experience back on our world!”

Luna ate another handful, then shifted uncomfortably: “Please bring me my cloak--I have to get up.”

Reaper nodded, got up and walked back to the fire. He picked up the tattered hooded cloak and sighed.

“We are fast running out of usable clothing! I think I’ll wrap you in the blanket and tie a belt around it once we get you mounted on Bitch.”

Luna stood unsteadily and secured the rent and stained cloak loosely around her shoulders. She shuffled off the edge of the hartz’s bedding pile and tried to squat without falling over.

“I am too unstable, and my legs feel weak…”

Reaper dropped the dragon hide boots he was wiping down and walked behind Luna. He placed his hands on her shoulders and steadied her.

She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh as she relieved herself: “Thank you.”

“No problem. You done?”

She nodded: “Yes. I find this most frustrating, having to depend on somepony else for the simplest of tasks.”

Reaper helped Luna to her feet and walked her back to the blanket: “Hey, you helped me out of that stupid collapsed passage. This is the least I could do!”

She smiled weakly as Reaper re-dressed her wounds and helped pull her clothes back on.

She took another leaf of zaka and began chewing: “I must admit, this has lessened my pain, somewhat. I do wonder, however, if it contributed to my lack of balance a few minutes ago.”

“Well, that plus fatigue plus lack of food, sure!”

“Are we truly out of food now? Have you eaten anything since you found me yesterday?”

“I ate more berries than I brought back; I’ll be fine. I just want to get us on the trail, and cover as much ground as possible while the sun shines.”

Luna nodded and rose stiffly, draping the blanket over her shoulders like an oversize shawl. She walked slowly to the cave entrance as Reaper shouldered the pack and dumped dirt and snow on the fire.

Luna furrowed her brow and eyed Bitch: “How will we do this?”

“See that log?”

Luna nodded.

“Step onto that and I’ll help you get up and over.”

Luna stood on top of a fallen log as Reaper brought her dalzi up beside and held its head. Luna swung a leg over Bitch’s back and toppled awkwardly onto the dalzi as it tried to shy away.

As Luna cried out in pain, Reaper rammed his shoulder into the dalzi’s ribs in an effort to stop it from throwing its passenger.

“Damn it, you stupid beast! Stop fighting!”

Luna threw her arms around Bitch’s neck and leaned forward, placing her lips against its right ear: “L'asi du'ze, Tax'ar goz!”

Bitch began to settle, its breathing slowed, and its ears perked up.

Reaper stepped back from the dalzi and raised an eyebrow: “When, exactly, did you learn Kurlish?”

Luna opened her eyes and grinned, but did not lift her head from Bitch’s neck: “Not all Kurlish--technically, we are speaking the Iparres'm dialect.”

“Compliments of your little trip through my 'Library of Memory,' I presume?”

“Yes. It may take me a bit to get all the pieces in the right order, but I was able to absorb the majority of what you remembered as Gerrar.”

“Even I don’t remember everything clearly…”

“Perhaps not with your waking mind--not after thousands of years, but your dreams and all that made them were relatively well-preserved.”

Reaper took up the dalzis’ leads and began walking east as the sun touched the tops of the surrounding trees.

“I assume you didn’t see anything after my death.”

“That is essentially correct. Once you became the Harbinger you stopped dreaming--”

“Or even living, really.”

“--and so there is nothing beyond your death vision, until a few weeks ago when you regained a living form.”

“Huh. I don’t even recall more than a couple of dreams over the last few weeks.”

Luna smiled slyly: “Nevertheless you did dream--more than you know. And I have seen them.”

Reaper rolled his eyes: “More sex I presume, given your smirk.”

“Yes, but not just that. Dreams of entrapment, and I do not mean the collapsed passage. You clearly wish to be free of your flesh again.”

“I have existed far longer without it than with!”

“That is so. I know something of living in an undesired state; of living in a form I could not fully control.”

They turned south and headed slowly along the embankment, then turned back east to follow the stream bottom.

“Are we not crossing?”

“Not here--too steep. I scouted a shallow, stony ford about six hundred yards east of here. We can cross there and backtrack west, so you don’t have to dismount.”

“That is much appreciated. Could I please have another leaf of zaka?”

Reaper reached into his pocket and pulled out a sprig of leaves: “Here--this should hold you for a while.”

Luna nodded, pulled a leaf off and popped it in her mouth.

Reaper guided the dalzi across the stream and up a winding cut in the far back: “So you said you’d resolve the hartz-killing story when you were more rested. You ready to fill me in?”

Luna took a deep breath and closed her eyes: “I ran to catch up with Bitch as she bolted from the compound, but could not keep pace. I finally caught up with her just as she was about to fall to the hartz’s claws.”

Reaper nodded: “Yeah, I saw the tracks, and could clearly see the ins and outs. What I want to know is, how did you kill the damn thing?”

Luna put a new leaf of zaka in her mouth: “The hartz had jumped on Bitch, and I threw myself around its neck. It battered me, and came in for a killing blow.”

Reaper chewed a leaf as well, and adjusted his cloak against the rising wind.

Luna shuddered: “Then I suddenly felt a surge of power, unlike anything I have ever experienced.”

“Magic? Couldn’t be that--you left that behind when you came through the portal.”

“No, not magic--something more primal, something alien to me. I unwittingly tapped it in my fear and rage, and it took control, giving me enormous strength, and terrifying the hartz. I drove the spear shaft up through its jaw into its brain. Then the power drained away. It almost seemed like, well, like a dream.”

Reaper walked in silence for a minute, brow furrowed: “It must be my power within you. You're right, that’s not magic: it’s a universal, transcendent power, the power of death, that permeates the entire Cosmos. Unlike Twilight, who triggered her portion by touching my sword, your share has lain dormant.”

“Until I had great need of it.”

“Exactly. I wonder if that’s also playing a part in your ability to go inside my dreams…”

Luna adjusted her position on Bitch’s back as they passed by the ruined garrison: “I think not. That part, at least, feels familiar to me, if greatly, how should I put this, attenuated.”

“So why don’t you appear to have total control there, either?”

“Perhaps because this is not my true, native form? Or because I am away from the heart and source of my own power? I am unsure.”

Reaper pulled another sprig of zaka from his pocket and gave a leaf to Luna, taking a fresh piece for himself as well.

Luna leaned back and flexed her shoulders, wincing as the scabs and crusted blood across her back tugged and cracked: “Who were you when you arrived on our world?”

“Hmm?”

“Were you Gerrar, or had you already become a new thing?”

“I knew I had died, and that I was now remade as a, well your word is apt: ‘thing.’ I was the spirit of Gerrar with none of his needs or desires or foibles or fears.”

“So the idealized essence of Gerrar, then.”

“Right. I was detached from not only this new world and its inhabitants, but from Gerrar himself.”

“Did it have to be that way? Could you have been “more Gerrar,” if you will?”

“Maybe, but I didn’t see any reason for it. I was happy to be rid of him, for the most part.”

“Why?”

“You’ve tapped my dreams…”

Luna smiled: “I, of all ponies, know that dreams do not always convey the hard-and-fast truth. In addition, you did not seem to dream much as Gerrar in your later years.”

“Zaka.”

“Zaka?”

Reaper nodded: “It tends to put me in a deep sleep--more like a stupor, actually.”

“Like strong drink--I understand. I would have to spend more time in your dreams, then, to uncover what lies beneath.”

“Yeah, let’s not. I chewed this shit heavily “in my later years,” as you put it, in an effort to forget. It worked pretty well, and I’d kind of like to keep it that way.”

“Yet you have not sought to return to that stupor as a pony.”

“I don’t have anything to escape from, except this aggravating flesh! And honestly, any kind of strong sensory inputs: visual beauty, potent drink, rich food, sex, what have you, just make it worse.”

Luna smiled wryly: “Well, here at least, you most likely should be free of those particular problems, based on my experience so far!”

As she spoke the wind gusted, and the sun broke through a cloud bank, catching the snow-covered trail and surrounding trees in its rays, turning everything to fire and diamonds. Luna’s black hair spread behind her like a dark, shimmering nimbus, and settled across her shoulders.

Reaper glanced to his right at his companion’s upturned face as a spray of tiny ice crystals dusted her lips and cheeks, and clung to her eyelashes. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, seeking to clear the image.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”