“Dainn’s confusion grew and grew with each passing second the mare didn’t submit to his power. The pain he was pouring into her arm with his grip should have made her knees buckle, scream in agony, or forced her expression to change to one of a being in suffering, but nothing of the like happened. Instead she just stood there and took it, narrating the situation to the ex-caribou king as he stared at her dumbfounded.”

Dainn couldn’t stand the indignity of being mocked so openly by someone so low in status as a mare. Still, it was apparent that what she was saying was true. Her defiance was confusing to him, as she was merely shrugging off the hate filled crushing force of his grip as if it didn’t exist. This was more than simple bravado, and he had a very good idea of why this unnamed mare disguising herself as some deathly apparition could do such a thing. All it would take to confirm was a quick test.

Balling his free hand into a fist, the caribou sent a full forced punch in the mare’s stomach, using her undeserved confidence as a means of catching her off guard. As expected, the pony didn’t even have time to react to avoid the attack, and thus took it without an ounce of resistance. In fact, there was far too little resistance. His hand didn’t stop when it connected with the meat behind the female’s cloak, or anything else for that matter. It just slid through and ended up on the other side of her.

“Oh!” The mare announced in a playful, ‘surprised’ tone, “Will ya look at that. Looks like you got me. Woe is me.” As she spoke, the mare placed the back of her hand to her forehead, and bent backwards slightly in a feint. Doing this, the mare slid off Dainn’s arm, her body becoming wispy like smoke as she pulled away. In the same motion, her arm escaped the caribou’s hand in the same manner, the appendage literally slipping through the caribou’s fingers before his eyes.

Having gotten away from Dainn, the smoky fragments that escaped the mare joined back together with the rest of her form, and with their return her body and clothing were made whole, completely devoid of any signs of the damage Dainn had just done to her.

“You know, for a dead guy, you sure are lively.” The mare stated, her smile returning to her face to further taunt the caribou king.

“Cute,” Dainn replied, unfazed by her continued disrespect, “But now I understand exactly what’s going on.”

“Is that so?” She asked, leaning backwards and lifting her hooves right off the ground so she could float in mid air, revealing more that the law of reality didn’t apply to her. This only strengthened Dainn’s deductions.

“None of this is real. This is all an illusion.” Dainn said with absolute assuredness. It was one of the few things that explained this predicament perfectly.

There was a well known, at least amongst caribou, flaw in the magic resistant armor they wore. For all the magical attacks the armor could simply absorb, things like illusions and charms were not something it could prevent. It wasn’t knowledge the caribou liked getting out, as it was a simple weakness that could be exploited, but such a thing could be easily stumbled upon by accident. The mare in front of him did have a horn after all, and Dainn would have to be a fool to ignore that some mares had potent magic at their disposal. None as powerful as a caribou’s, but dangerous if used properly.

Still, Dainn was not worried in the slightest about this situation. Caribou had a simple trick to deal with this minor weakness. Such trickery was always part of a ploy to confuse or manipulate, so if a caribou ever saw anything that didn’t fit with their personal image of the world around them, they would just deny it completely. Simple solutions to simple tricks, and thus there was no way that he would allow this cloaked mare to convince that he had been killed.

However, his disbelief alone didn’t appear to be enough to break this spell. It probably had to be broken externally, much to Dainn’s annoyance, and until someone found out what was going on in the real world, he was stuck alone with this phantom. He could simply ignore her, but that would prove dull in the long run if his stay in this state were to be an extended one. If he got the mare talking though, perhaps she would let loose from those lips something he could use, before putting them to better use once she was physically in his clutches.

“So what?” he said, not looking at his captor directly as he gave a sideways glare to her, “Aren’t you going to continue trying to convince me that you are death?”

The mare, had gone into a relaxed state as the caribou made his declarations, having all but fallen asleep as she got comfortable on her pocket of air, “Hey, it doesn’t matter to me if you don’t think I’m the real deal. Even if I’m some figment of your imagination brought on by your slip from the mortal coil, the fact of the matter is that you have a spot on owl impression.”

What a crude attempt to throw him off guard, reminding him of the vision of his death that she implanted in his mind. No matter, it was clear she was just deflecting this back to him in order to keep up the facade. He could play along, for a little bit at least. “I have to say, this is not what I was expecting.”

The cloaked mare opened a single eye before replying with. “Were you expecting the forty two virgins afterlife then? Sorry, we’ve been in short supply since your rise to power.”

“No,” Dainn replied sternly, “What I mean is that for an aspect of death, you are not all that intimidating.”

The mare seemed taken aback by that, sitting upright as her smile left her face in a hurry. It was a shame that Dainn couldn’t take enjoyment from that expression, as it meant nothing in this imaginary realm. It didn’t last long either, giving way to a display of childish anger as she puffed her cheeks up at the caribou king. “Of course!” She said, grounding herself once more before pacing around in the dark void that enveloped the stage they were on. “Everyone always expects a grim reaper. Look, it’s not my fault you didn’t get the whole ‘pale horse’ treatment.”

“Then who’s, pray tell, is it?” asked Dainn, though not really caring about this meaningless line of dialog.

“Well, if you neeeeed to know,” said the mare, turning herself wispy again in order to glide over in front of Dainn in the blink of an eye, and state while press a finger into the breastplate of his armor, “It’s you bucko!”

Dainn didn’t care much for this mare’s explanation, tone, or assertiveness as she poked at him, and thus she received from the king what any female would have in that moment. As quickly as he could manage, Dainn sent the back of his hand into her face, though was dismayed to see it go straight through without so much as harming a hair of her fur coat.

“You know…” the mare said, stepping back to place her hands on her hips, “Most people incorporate the incorporeal thing into their minds fairly quickly.” She gave a Dainn a small moment to huff in response, before going on to say, “But get this… I am a conceptual being. An entity who is composed of the thoughts and ideas of those who wish to personify me. And because of that, I take the form of how a person sees me. Trust me, I’d love to challenge you to a brood off, but the thing is that Death, as a concept, is not seen the same way by everyone. Some people see me as something to fear, while others see me as a companion of sorts, or a friend, or a potential love interest… You name it, I’ve been it.”

“The only thing I see you as is annoying.” said Dainn, this nonsensical banter of things that couldn’t possible be true grating on his nerves.

This made the mare’s smile return though, accompanied by the an announcement of, “Exactly!” Followed by a long laugh as she continued to explain, “You are so irritated by the concept of your own demise that you only see death as a bother. Then again, that’s how you perceive anything that goes against you, isn’t it?”

“Then I take it all the puns you’ve been spouting off…”

“A byproduct of your complete lack of a sense of humor, I’m afraid. Don’t judge me too harshly though. I’m doing my best to tell a joke that will knock ya dead. Until then, just consider me your divine comedian.”

“I think I am done with this now,” Dainn said, a bit of a growl forming in his throat.

“Come on, getting a few chuckles before going to Hell might make it less of a daunting inferno.”

“I am not going to Hell.” Dainn stated, neither believing that he was worthy of divine punishment, or that such a realm existed to begin with.

Such things as ‘eternal damnation for doing misdeeds’ were mere superstition, which he denied completely. What supposed force in the universe could dare to deem someone worthy of such a fate. Morality was just a mere concept, and not as black and white some would want it to be. A person who slaughtered hundreds could be considered a saint, and a person who never did anything wrong in his life could be marked a pariah. Any action, good intentions or not, could be commended or condemned at the whims of the viewer, and anything could be justified.

“Don’t dare think you can frighten me with such an empty threat. I know without doubt that no such place exists.”

“Well…” the cloaked mare said, for once being a bit sheepish when responding to Dainn, “Yeah, you might be right about that.”

“Wait, what?” Something about her agreement caught Dainn’s attention. It was not the sort of thing he expected a rebel to say, for starters. Those that defied the caribou usually cursed their very existence, and declare that they were the worst creatures ever spawned. They deluded themselves into thinking that the were the protectors of Equestria, when they clearly just short sighted fools trying to disrupt the order Dainn gave to Equestria. Thus, it was a little odd to hear this one not likewise casting him into damnation.

“You see…” said the mare, twiddling her fingers together as she spoke, “There might not be a Heaven or Hell, at least not for people like you. While I really hate to say it, you’re a bit of a special case. Rather annoying really, but when a person like you kicks the bucket, there are certain rules that have to be followed.”

“Like me?” Dainn questioned, “So a man of my caliber gets special treatment upon their death, I suppose.” The caribou still had no reason to believe that he was truly dead, but he was a bit curious as to where the mare was going with this.

“Look, I know this phrase has a double meaning for you, but don’t get a big head over this. This stipulation has nothing to do with how many alicorn princesses you managed to rape in your life, or how many lives you ruined for the sake of ‘progress’. It’s more about what you ‘are’ than what you’ve ‘done’.”

“A king? A conqueror?”

“None of that. I’m not going to go into detail, but let’s just say that it’s that special trait that has protected you from being carted off to some realm of eternal suffering or glorious paradise plane, or whatever it is you mortals assume life after death is. Some might say it's the thing that has protected you for most of your life.”

The mare was getting that tone again, that one of arrogance and disrespect. How Dainn wished he could just grab her by the throat and teach her first hand what her place was.

“You see, according to the rules of death, a person like you isn’t guaranteed to stay dead. In fact, you have the gift of..” The mare cleared her throat, and deepened her voice slightly, “Having as many lives as the universe thinks you deserve.”

“And that means?”

“Think of it as reincarnation, except that you don’t have to go through all those awkward years of puberty and wondering if ya like getting it the dick more than giving it.”

“You dare!?”

“What I’m trying to say is that should the universe decide that you have some purpose to fulfill, well then lucky you. You get to wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, and continue your life. And as a bonus, you won’t even have that pesky knowledge of all the times you’ve died before floating in your head.”

It took Dainn a moment to pick up on what the mare was saying, but when he did he couldn’t help but be pulled in, “Are you implying that… this is not the first time I’ve died?”

“Would that be so much of a surprise? I mean I know that you like to turn a blind eye to anything that doesn’t agree with ya, but what makes you think that someone wouldn’t have tried to off you by now? You can’t assume that you're immune to retribution, or that everyone in the world aside from yourself is either too cowardly or too incompetent to do the deed.”

“And yet, by what you are saying, their attempts end in failure regardless. They may kill me, but I have always returned. If I am to believe you are being truthful, then my rule is beyond even death.” As much as Dainn didn’t like the continued accusation that he was dead, the notion that his death was overall pointless was quite satisfying. “And if I am alive, I can enact my revenge on those who sought to remove me from power.”

“That’s the spirit,” The mare said, “Except there is that little matter of not remembering what had happened.”

“But surely something like my death wouldn’t go unnoticed. If I am to humor you this notion of my demise, then my assassination was witnessed first hand by a good portion of my best caribou soldiers.”

“Yeah, those men of yours definitely watched everything happen. They were so terrified when you were put down that I thought we might have had a few more joining us. Good thing they didn’t keel over though, you don’t know how much work has to be done for a mass murder? Well...” A flash of crazed, sadistic glee went over the mare’s face. It was as if her mind wandered over some form of knowledge tucked away inside her skull, that sent her dangerously to the edge of insanity. With this crazed expression splashed across her face, she glided over to Dainn one more time, getting close enough so the caribou could take in every detail. “Then again, maybe you do!”

This behavior didn’t impress Dainn, but he was now associating this mare’s entire personality to a certain pink mare he knew of. Not exactly the same, but the qualities of annoyance mixed with insanity were similar. This female would have fit well into a purple collar, and perhaps that would be the fate Dainn would arrange for her upon her inevitable capture.

“You cannot intimidate me with random behavior,” Dainn said, placing a hand on the muzzle to push her away lightly, knowing by this point that any more appropriate actions would be made moot, the mare not wishing him any real satisfaction in this illusion, “Your feeble presence doesn’t make a dent against my will.”

“Fiiinnneee… You sure know how to kill.” The mare gave a long, awkward pause, one that made Dainn suddenly aware of the silence that surrounded him. The two had been going back and forth so much that it had gone unnoticed until now. Of anything, the complete lack of sound was the most chilling thing about this situation, and even a man like Dainn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in the face of the void. it was almost a relief when the mare followed up her previous sentence with, “The mood, that is.”

“If you are trying to insinuate something, I’ll let you know that I have never killed anything in my life. Even those dangerously stupid rebels are simply blanked and turned into something more viable. If you were death, then you would understand that.”

“If you say so,” the crazed expression slowly shifted back to the mare’s standard smile, “But seeing as I am who I am, I might just be a little more of an authority on this matter.”

“Really? Because from where I stand, you haven’t said anything that gives me confidence in your abilities or intelligence. You have been spouting off nonsensical and overall contradictory bits of information, and all in an attempt to confuse me. I’m sure rambling like a buffoon fools some more weak minded individuals, but you have no sway over one such as I.”

“What can I say?” The mare shrugged, sticking her tongue out partially, “Death can be a bit senseless at times.”

“...” What could Dainn say to that? It wasn’t that the worlds were immensely profound. Quite the opposite. Her words and gestures were so monumentally stupid that he could find no adequate argument to it that wouldn’t drag Dainn down to her level. She was certainly a paragon of idiocy. A perfect example as to why females could never achieve any form of intellect, as the more they tried to be smart, the more they revealed how little they actually understood.

“I believe I have reached my limit.” Dainn said with certainty, “So why don’t we get to the inevitable conclusion to this situation. No more games, no more stalling, just finalization. If you were indeed ‘Death’, then you could prove it. Take me to wherever it is I belong after my supposed passing. Be it this reincarnation you spoke of, or some journey to some final destination, you should have the power to enact it. So do it or leave me be.”

The mare briefly touched a finger to the side of her head, and imitated the expression of being in thought, though by now Dainn knew the mare was beneath such a function. “You mean… right now?”

“Of course right now.”

“No can do.” she replied cheerfully, far too aware of the frustration such a response would cause, “But this is another one of those things that’s your fault, not mine. You’re still processing your death, and being incredibly stubborn about it. Until you can learn to get past it, you can’t move on to your new life, or your eternal rest.” The mare hunched over, lifting her arms half way while wiggling her fingers at the caribou. “You might even become a wandering spirit, cursed to walk throughout the land of the dead forever. OOOOooooOOOOoooOO…”

Dainn gave a closed mouth sigh, “Very well then,” With those words, Dainn finally decided that any further interaction with this female would only lead to counterproductive results. Thus it was time to follow the one piece of advice she gave that made any sense. Turning on spot, Dainn turned away from the cloaked pony, and started walking into the void that surrounded them.

“Hey! Didn’t you hear what I just said!?”

“Yes, and I’m moving on. If I am to be trapped in this delusion, then I will be better off with my own thoughts than with an idiotic creature like you.”

“Hmmm… Ok then, have fun.” the mare said with a wave that the caribou couldn’t have possibly have seen. “But if you need me-”

“I won’t.” Dainn stated, his stride unhesitating.

“If you do, just call my name. I’ll be lingering in your shadow until then.”

“Don’t you dare follow me.”

The mare giggled, “Oh I won’t, but don’t think you’ll escape me. No one ever succeeds in that, and when the time comes I will search for you, I will find you, and I will… well you know.” Dainn made no reply to the mare’s comment, and treaded deeper and deeper into the darkness, leaving both her and the vision of his dead body behind.

The mare didn’t mind though, not the least bit concerned that Dainn wasn’t getting past his issues with death, that he was attempting to avoid them altogether. No matter how much Dainn refused to believe it, the reality was that he had been murdered, he was dead, and one way or another he was going to have to come to terms with more than just his demise. After all, how one dealt with death was on par with how they dealt with life, and Dainn had a lot of life to deal with, as he would soon find out.

“Things are moving along quickly enough, I suppose.” Death said, pulling out a piece of paper, a quill, and an ink well from her cloak. Resting the container of black liquid in the air in front of her, she dipped the end of her feather into it. With the pen loaded, and a sense of delight brought upon her current personality, she struck a mark on her paper with deadly speed and precision. “Stage one complete. Now on to stage two.”

Author's Notes:

Have you met a person who just wouldn't listen? Someone who you would try to tell something that was important, but they actively shoved their fingers into their ears in order to just go on doing what they wanted to do? Of course you have, we have all met that person. Even if you ARE that person, you have met another person that has the same problem.

These are the people who never see things as their fault or accept that they have a problem. Those who do stupid things on a daily basis, are told they are doing stupid things, and then continue to do those things because they see themselves in the right. It can be frustrating to have to deal with these kinds of people, especially when you see how self destructive such an attitude is, but the truth of the matter is that most people don't like to believe they are wrong.

Statement of the century, I know, but when it comes down to it people hate the concept of being "wrong". They can be mistaken about something. Have a slight error about some small detail, or maybe be ill informed about a bit of trivia, but to actually be wrong about something... my god.

This of course is when denial sets in. Where people start to rationalize how it is that the other person is wrong, and how they are perfectly in the right. This starts a bit where they believe the other person has made an error, is ill informed, or (in a bit of irony) in denial themselves. It doesn't even have to be about anything important either, just some stupid discussion can pop up about how Kevin Bacon wasn't in Footloose, and a person can become a braying jackass.

Denial seems to be one of those things that people fall into easily, and is more easily sustained when the person doing it "can't be disproven". An example from my real life comes from a person I know who considers themselves fairly religious. Now I am a christian too (and seeing what I constantly write about, I can see if that is a little shocking), but I feel that most of what we consider "The word of god" to be a bit on the humanistic side to be simply taken at face value. If I were to put in polite terms "I'm a christian whose views most other christians would not agree with", and that's fair since I never say that I have all the answers.

However, this other party is one who "does have all the answers", and so when you start trying to point out certain flaws in their philosophies, they will at first try to convince you using bold assumptions on something based on some passage that caught their eye once, or just some vague thing they were brought up to believe, and then when you start to use basic logic to explain way these ideas are flawed, they start to become verbally hostile. I won't go into examples, and honestly I'm not that offended with the person's viewpoint, I just see it as an outright refusal to accept any other viewpoint than their own as a possibility, thus it is an act of denial.

And this is exactly how I see the caribou of FoE as well. From the minorest no name peon, to Dainn himself, they all seem to have this inherit need to refuse even the most obvious flaws of their philosophies. It is something that is needed for the setting of FoE, because if there were a group of caribou among their admittedly small band of refuges that didn't approve of the way caribou go around enslaving women, then it would just cause a fuck ton of problems, and that sort of in fighting, or depth of character as some might see it, was not something the person that made the setting cared about.

So the caribou always appear to have a justification for their horrific actions, and outright deny truths that they can evidently see, because if they accepted those things as fact, then they would have to change, and change is really hard. In reality, what denial comes down to is that it's a shield that attempts to protect us from change, and for the caribou those shields are always on maximum charge. The question is though... can one overcome their own purposeful ignorance, or maybe more importantly, can someone else overcome it for them?

Anyways, from here on out I'll be updating the story weekly. Expect the next chapter in 7 days exactly