Who knew how long that eruption went on for? For Dainn, an eternity passed before the torment receded, freeing him from that maddening pain. When it did though, the blinding white faded back into black, bringing a darkness devoid of white hot fire. For one who had to endure the agony and heat of pure light, the abyss was comforting and cool. The aches of Dainn’s smoldering flesh no way compared to the fires that had turned it that way.

For the longest time, Dainn made no movements, content to just stay curled up on the floor. He had no reason to intensify his fleeting pain with unnecessary action. Thought was different though. Thought strained no muscles, and caused no further suffering, thus could be done freely.

While consumed by The Cycle, Dainn could think of nothing but the hellish burning of his body. With it gone, now his thoughts could go elsewhere - to how he had gotten to this point. How Svarndagr had unleashed his full fury upon him, how the mare claiming to be Death’s avatar brought him to this place, and how that was all sparked by the impetuous act of a stallion defending a mare.

Yes, Dainn had finally come to term with his own demise, through the experience of a thousand more within an intense ball of fire that rivaled the sun. He no longer denied that he had been on that stage the night of the Gala, that he had been overpowered before his subjects and peers, and that he was killed by two pony assassins. It was an unjust and unfair death, but it happened.

And because it happened, he had been brought to even more ruin in this miserable excuse of an afterlife. Left with a body that now matched that of the other caribou damned to this existence, and realizing that those forms were a result of The Cycle as well, with their skin blasted clean of defining features, and charred to a black than near matched the void around them. It was a wonder that they could move as they did when Dainn saw them, but he supposed that their undying rage was motivating enough for them to forego the never ending nightmare that was this place.

Dainn didn’t have to accept this fate though. Unlike the other caribou, he had a way out. Death had told him that he was special. That he could be reborn into the living world, that he had an infinite amount of do-overs that he could take advantage of, and as of now, he had fulfilled the requirement given to him.

“D-D-D-Death…” He whispered out in words he found difficult to speak, beckoning for the mare, craving what she promised more than anything he ever had in life. “I-I’m r-r-ready. T-t-take m-me.”

The hooded figure appeared, seemingly blinking into reality before the wreckage that was Dainn. As she had said before, the time would come when Dainn would embrace what she represented, and she was there when the moment arrived.

Dainn could not see the mare, his eyelids having long since been melted together, but he could feel Death’s chilling and quiet presence. “P-please,” he begged, for the first time that he had ever recalled doing so, “I’ve a-accepted the t-truth. I-I’m dead. S-so do a-as you s-said you would. S-Send me b-back h-home.”

The figure bent over, tilting its head towards the ruined caribou, and uttered a single word, “No.”

“N-no?” W-what do you meant n-no?” Dainn asked, not in anger, but absolute confusion, “I h-have accepted m-my death. Y-you said I needed to do that in o-order to leave this p-place.”

“I did,” Death replied coldly, “As it is an important part of moving forward from one’s own demise. Acceptance alone is not all that is needed for the reincarnation that I talked about before, though. As I stated; you, and those like you, are allowed as many lives as the universe believes you deserve.”

Dainn had thought himself tricked for a moment, but then realized that there was little reason for the mare to have mentioned these details before if she intended to keep him in this realm. Even if he were still to have the notion that this was all one incredibly powerful illusion, if they intended them to stay here, then nothing would had stopped her from saying so. There were some sort of rules to all this. Ones that Dainn didn’t understand.

“T-then please t-tell me, w-what must I do t-to leave?”

“Nothing,” Death replied, “You have done all you can do. Now it is up to the powers that be to decide if your existence is necessary.”

Dainn didn’t like the sound of that, as it implied that these unnamed forces might deem him unworthy for some arbitrary reason. What did they even consider as ‘necessary’, and what would happen to him if he didn’t fit their criteria? He had to know. “W-What happens if t-they-”

“Should the universe not find your existence needed,” Death said, predicting Dainn’s question, “Then you will have to stay here until it changes its opinion of you. The universe is a fickle thing, and what it takes interest in can change on a whim.”

“And i-if it never c-changes?”

“Then you will be discarded.” Death said bluntly, “Such is the way of your kind.”

That news horrified the caribou king, as he equated it to being left in the abyss to rot. To be trapped in this world of nothing, his only company being the dead, the damned, and the relentless agony he felt. What if the other caribou found him like this? Would they tear him to pieces like they had tried before? What if Svarndagr found him? Would he be subjected to The Cycle once more? What if there was something else in this darkness that wanted to harm him? In his current state, he didn’t believe he could defend himself against the weakest of attackers. From vengeful caribou shadows, to the lowliest black collar mare, he would be at the mercy of anything that found him like this.

In fear of such an outcome, Dainn reached forward, foregoing all the pain brought on by movement, and latched onto the mare’s cloak. “There must be some way to hasten the process.” he said, believing that Death must have held some sort of answer for his suffering. “Some sort of deal we can come to. What if I swear my allegiance to you? Make sacrifices in the name of death? Surely my soul does not compare to the hundreds or thousands I could send to you. What do you say?”

“Your offer… does not interest me.” Death answered, “I am not some creature who greedily devours the souls of the dead. I am merely a guide provided to send those who have died to their rightful destinations. There is nothing for me to gain from blood sacrifices or any other such offerings, nor would there be anything for me to lose should you try to keep things from me. I have no wants, needs, desires, weaknesses or fears that you can prey upon as you did with mortals in your lifetime. I only abide by the rules of death.”

“T-Then a challenge!” Dainn exclaimed as he increased his grip strength, believing that he found another way out of this hell, “Surely the rules say something about allowing me to prove I am deserving of my life!”

“You have been listening to too many stories created by those who believe they can overcome their own inevitable fate. There is no cheating death, no paying yourself out of Purgatory, and I do not accept two coins to cross the River Styx. All things, even things like yourself, eventually are met by their own end. The only thing that changes is how one deals with it, and thus far you have dealt with it poorly.”

Dainn loosened the grip on the cloak, not finding the solace in Death that he had hoped for. “Then why are you here? To taunt me? To accuse me of some momentous sin?”

“No…” Death replied, “While you are indeed guilty of much, that is not why I am here.” Without warning, Dainn felt Death’s grip grab him by the arm. As one might expect, the touch of the mare was cool and soothing, numbing the burning sensations brought upon by The Cycle. This allowed Death to raise the caribou up, standing him on his hooves, without the stag screaming into the darkness. “Now let’s fix you up a little.”

Death brushed its hand on Dainn’s body, and with each swipe, pieces of the char that clung to it fell off, revealing underneath not raw flesh like one might assume, but untouched fur. The cloaked figure continued with this until it had cleared away any signs of the damage done to Dainn, returning him to how he had been before having been set aflame.

“There, you can open your eyes now.”

Dainn was unaware of what Death had done, but he knew that he suddenly felt like a new man, in the most appropriate use of the phrase that he had ever encountered. His muscles, having been made decrepit, were filled with a strength near forgotten. Not only that, but his seething agony had vanished completely. He didn’t feel so much as a single ache throughout his being, when just moments ago it was all he knew.

“T-This…” he said, opening his eyes, feeling the sensation of sight after so long without it. He was completely restored. “Is amazing. How did you...?”

“Is is so strange?” Death asked, “As I explained, I am a conceptual being. As such I represent all aspects of death, and to some death is just as much a symbol of renewal as it is a depiction of finality.”

Dainn was hardly listening to the cloaked pony, too much in awe of how much he had changed. The contrast was like night and day, his body having been reverted to a point before all the pain. The only thing that remained was the terrible memories of his time in the fire.

Dainn had never felt particularly grateful for anything in his lifetime, finding all that he had been given by others things that he had rightfully earned through his talents. This time though, he could not rationalize any means that his healing was his doing. “Thank you...” he said, turning towards Death, expecting to see the mare’s smirking face looking at him.

What he actually saw made the stag recoil, taking a quick jump away from the robed figure. It was not the purple unicorn mare whose face he saw, but instead the image of a large, red earth pony stallion. Unlike the mare, he didn’t wear a permanent smirk, but a neutral expression of indifference.

“What’s wrong?” Death wondered aloud, “Are you seeing something you didn’t expect?”

The change of appearance was pretty jarring, but not just because it defied expectations. The issue he had was that he knew this stallion that death had become, as it was a face he could never forget. That of the stallion that had broken his neck like a dried twig.

“Whatever you see, do not worry. I am the same Death that you spoke with before.”

“Then why do you look different now?” It wasn’t as if Dainn had never met a creature that could change its form. There were such things as changelings, after all. It just seemed odd that an aspect of a natural force would do so, except if it were to be screwing with him.

“It’s no great mystery,” Death explained, “You’re just taking me a bit more seriously now.”

“I… I suppose that makes sense.” Dainn replied, not really understanding, but figuring that there was no need to dwell on this minute detail. In truth, he was still too relieved at his restoration to care, and despite the form Death took, it didn’t seem to seek his harm.

“Good,” Death said, equally wanting to not dwell on the topic, “Then we can move on. There is a purpose for which I brought you here.”

“Brought me…” Dainn looked around, and found that he was no longer in the center of the dark void that he had become accustomed to, even within his blindness. The sky was still blacker than the deepest night, as was the distant horizon, but the floor was a square, wooden structure of some sort that stretched out far enough that it could have fit into a large sized room. Dainn and the cloaked stallion were not the only things standing upon it either.

Looking around, there was several pieces of furniture. A bed, a table, several chairs, desk, bookshelf, fridge, stove, and several other amenities one would need for basic living. They were nothing extravagant, nothing like what he had adapted to during his time as king of Equestria, the kind of furnishings that would be found in the homes of commoners. Dainn, in his excitement of having his body restored, simply ignored all of these things, too busy examining his own body to notice any of them.

Death made its way over to the table, placed at the center of the room, and pulled out a chair. “Please, take a seat. Then I will explain everything you will need to know.”

Dainn gladly took the offer, not caring that this simple wooden chair in no way compared to his kingly throne. It felt like long time since he could sit down properly. When in place, Dainn asked the question that Death had set him up for. “What do I need to know?” He had come to accept that he was at this creature was his only method out of this place, and that meant that he had to know the rules he’d have to follow.

“I believe you have learned at this point, that traveling out into the abyss is not a wise idea.” Death said, walking to the other side of the table, taking his own seat, “The only things you will find out there are vengeful spirits, or an oppressive nothingness.”

Dainn nodded, finding that this was the case. For a person like himself, that dark realm was nothing but hostile.

“I allowed you to go and discover this own your own, but it was never my intent to force you out there. I wasn’t going to stop you from doing something so stupid, but in the end I was always going to guide you here. As the avatar of death, I can be uncaring and cruel, but also merciful. This would be an act of that mercy.”

“And what is it exactly?” Dainn asked.

“It is a safe space,” Death replied, “A spot within the void in which nothing can harm you. So long as you do not venture beyond the boundaries of this place, none of the others here will be able to get to you. You will also be provided with entertainment, as that bookshelf over there has on it any book that you could think of on it. The fridge will also be supplied with any forms of fresh produce and drink you can think of, though you will have to prepare anything yourself.”

“Hmmmm… I’m not exactly a cook.” Dainn stated, as preparation of food was the work of females.

“And I’m not exactly a fairy godmother,” said the red stallion, “But we must learn to make do. Either get use to simple fruits and vegetables, or hone your skills with a pan. You’ll probably have plenty of time to practice.”

“And what about company? Will I be provided with some companionship as well?”

“You can have plenty of companionship. All you have to do is walk back out into the darkness like you did before.” Death’s answer reminded Dainn of the attitude of its previous form, but for some reason he felt that this wasn’t supposed to be a joke. “Otherwise, you’ll be here alone with only your thoughts as company.”

“And everything else? The bath, the desk?”

“Just more things to keep you occupied. There is paper in the desk if you feel creative, and the tub is to help you relax. It’s probably not the level of comfort you were use to when you were alive, but you’re not the king you once were.”

To be honest, the quality of the things in this zone of safety was not an issue. Perhaps if he had gone with Death to begin with, if he hadn’t experienced The Cycle, then he would have complained or outright refused these accommodations. Now he was just glad he didn’t have a bed made of darkness and a blanket of scorching flames covering him. With this, and his body’s renewal, there was very little to gripe about with this arrangement. The only complaint Dainn could have was that he would be the only one within this place. Did that matter though?

Could Dainn not live a life of solitude in relative comfort? That was one of the questions the caribou had to ask himself. Before the ordeal of dying, Dainn had lived as a king with hundreds of servants at his beck and call, and even more soldiers at his command of both the pony and caribou variety. Before that, he lived in the caribou homelands, and had his loyal followers and supporters, those who eventually became his caribou council.

While he had a very reclusive personality, he appeared to be a very social creature. He may not have enjoyed the attention being king brought him, but that was because a large part of being a king was having to be responsible for the nation he lorded over. His own people were easy to please, but the stallions were always bickering about something. The admiration of his subjects was nice, but expectations from them were unwelcome. He had always saw being king as what Svarndagr had portrayed it as, where people praised you for being powerful, and you could delegate matters of the kingdom’s management to those whose time was less important.

As much as he didn’t personally care for sex, he did like being fawned over. He liked having someone around who appreciated that he was the best that caribou kind had to offer. People who catered to his every whim, and submitted to his superiority. It was indeed the most intolerable thing about this realm, that everything within it seemed intent on destroying him, and in Svarndagr’s case adding a lecture to the destruction.

What it came down to was that as much as Dainn, in life, thought that everyone else was beneath him, he still wanted their company. No, he needed their company, but he always wanted it on his terms. He desired to be respected, obeyed, and even feared if that brought on the first two things, but despised being belittled, defied, and hated. Maybe that was part of his caribou heritage, or maybe it was just his own personality. Either way, he felt that an existence alone would not be an enjoyable one. That begged the other question he had on his mind; Was there any alternative, save for casting himself back into that inhospitable darkness.

“I have to say, while I appreciate this small gesture, I’m not sure I can live this way.” said Dainn boldly.

Death responded by glibly saying, “Fortunately, as one of the recently deceased, you won’t have to.”

“No, what I mean is that for me, an existence without other people is unacceptable. But so too is one where everyone is a threat. In both, I feel it is likely that I’d go mad.”

“Then it is a good thing you forget about this experience if you get reincarnated.”

“But as you said, there is a possibility that that will never happen, and not because of anything I’ve done, but on the whims of some force that I’ve never met. It all just sounds so incredibly unfair.”

“If you think that death is unfair, then you should get better acquainted to my counterpart.”

“You’re starting to spout off jokes again…”

“And you’re finding my unwillingness to give into your wants bothersome, so you’re bringing my snark on yourself.”

“All I’m trying to ask is this… Is there no way to change my fate? Is there truly nothing that I could at least try in order not be stuck here like this?”

“Hmm…” Death leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, “Well that depends…”

“On what!?” Dainn jumped at the implication that there was some way out of this situation, not caring if he lost all presence or poise in the process. He was desperate.

“Do you consider yourself a religious person?”

“Not… really…” Dainn replied, settling himself back into his seat. Caribou believed in the power of fate and luck more than any fictitious deity, with fate guiding all inexorably to their intended roles in life, and luck deciding if one would be born with the privilege of being male, or cursed to serve as a female. “Does this relate to this ‘universal force’ you keep referring to?”

“Kinda,” said Death, “But not really. What I have in mind is technically part of the universe, but is also a separate entity to it altogether. To be honest, they don’t really do anything with the universe on the whole anymore, happy to let things go about on their own course, but one could say that they were the thing that set everything in motion.”

“Then you are referring to some sort of ‘God’ then.” Dainn deduced, seeing as Death was implying that this entity was a creator of sorts.

“You could call it that, if it makes things easier for you. If there is anyone who you could appeal to about your situation, then it would be the one to go to. I have to say though, most people find ‘God’ to be even more uncaring than me when it comes to the plights of creatures such as yourself.”

“And you can take me to this God then?” Dainn asked, willing to try anything.

“Well I am a conceptual being,” Death stated, “And many do find Death as a guide to ‘God’. So yes, I can. What will happen after that though, I don’t know. Honestly, you might just end up in someplace even worse than here if ‘God’ deems your life to be one of sin.”

That comment did worry Dainn a little. It struck of the concept of universal morality. That there was some force out their that decided that there was a clear right and wrong, and that it might side against him. Then again, if this God was the being that created everything, then they had to have created him and the caribou too. It would be hypocritical of such a being to allow them to exist as they were, only to condemn them to hell for doing what they were made to do.

“Fine, take me to God,” Dainn said, using that rationality to bolster his confidence.

“Very well,” Death replied, “But I alone cannot take you to ‘God’. It requires an act of faith on your part.”

“Am I going to have to pray?”

“If you feel it will help, but it can be a bit simpler than that. If you want, just close your eyes and count to ten. When you are done, open them, and you will be with ‘God’.”

“Okay…” said Dainn, seeing no reason Death would lie to him at this point. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and started counting, “One… Two… Three… Four…”

Dainn could hear Death raise out of his seat, and move over to him, “I can’t say that our time together hasn’t been enjoyable Dainn.”

“Five… Six… Seven…” Dainn continued, not letting the red stallion deter him from his task.

“But I do believe this is the last time we will meet, one way or another.”

Death placed his hands on Dainn, putting one on his shoulder, and another around his muzzle. It felt terribly familiar to Dainn, as it was the same grip that the stallion who killed him had just before delivering the fatal blow. The same stallion whose form Death had taken. It unnerved Dainn a little, and made a cold sweat form under his fur, but it only delayed his count slightly.

“Eight…… Nine……”

“Goodbye.”

“TEN!”

Dainn anticipated a sudden sharp pull from Death to finalize the process, re-killing him to usher him to God’s doorstep, but nothing happened. The presence of Death just… vanished, and in its place Dainn felt a gentle warmth. Without even opening his eyes, he knew he had to have been in the presence of God.

However, even though he had just appeared in God’s domain, God didn’t address him. He didn’t tell him to kneel before him, or come forward to speak his case. He didn’t even greet him. He just remained silent. It admittedly scared Dainn, enough that he refused to open his eyes, lest he found God glaring back at them in anger.

“Excuse me,” he said bowing forward in his seat, trying to be as respectful as possible, knowing this entity was his last hope, “Your majesty, no, your godliness. I am Dainn, King of Equestria. Master of women, and Lord of the caribou. I have… been sent here by Death in order to plead for my life. If I could have a moment of your time, which I know is of the most importance, I would be eternally grateful.”

Dainn stood there for a moment, not so much as bringing himself back upright, as he awaited God’s reply. Nothing came though. Not so much as a huff of disapproval. He didn’t know if he had upset the deity some how, or… anything really. He was getting absolutely nothing from this creature. Dainn stood there for minutes doing nothing except worrying internally, until finally his own impatience got the better of him, and he cracked open one eye to sneak a peek at his only chance of salvation.

What he saw shot true terror through his being, and made him feel the greatest dread he had ever encountered. There before him, was a pure white alicorn, with a mane of blood red. One that was unmistakably a mare.

Author's Notes:

You know... I really don't have much to say on my personal experiences with "bargaining". In my life I've never really had to do much where I tried to slip out of a situation through pleading or offering things. I am a fairly rational person who looks at the day to day chores of the world as things that we either have to accept and do, or just bypass all together.

That might be a bad thing really, because I do have to say that while there is a downside to bargaining, there is also definite up side, that being that you get what you are wanting or need. So what if you sell your soul now for the riches of the world. That is future you's problem, and present you is having the time of his or her life. Then again, I just hate the idea of being indebted to something or someone. That is why I always pay my bills on time, and never really barrow money from people.

Then again, it's not like I haven't done the opposite to others. I have often helped people with their problems when it comes to things like moving heavy furniture (because for a girl of 4'11, I am amazingly strong) or lending out money because I assumed in my mind they would eventually do the same for me further down the road. It is a deal made without any writing, but still assumed to be in effect because one should receive some form of compensation for their efforts. Now money is one thing, as I never expect more than what have given out, and most people have paid me back what I have been owed, by those special favors that involve physical labor... well that is where it seems this specific devil is never given her dues. Then again, I don't complain much about it, and have taken to just not doing more favors for those people anymore. Simple solutions for simple problems, even if I am out a few hours of my life that I could have spent elsewhere. No biggie.

As for where the caribou fit in here... well I'm not sure if they are like myself, or in debt up to their eyeballs. Going on the ideas of their exodus from their devastated homelands, the caribou were basically chancing everything on a place that could have just... not been there. What if Equestria was a fairy tale to them, and they had just floated out into the ocean, aimlessly going to some place that didn't exist. Dainn really was tossing the dice here and hoping everything just worked out for him, cause anything else would have not been acceptable. Same goes with severing Celestia and Luna's horns, because Dainn had no reason not to believe that the two were actually controlling the sun and the moon. In fact, it is pretty much proven in another official story that they still do, and yet for some unexplained reason that doesn't become a problem later. We all know that for FoE, that is just a plot convenience that is never explained further than "Gravity took over. Go Team Caribou", but what if logic took over and Dainn was now stuck in a world cast in eternal night? Dainn and the caribou sure likes to gamble the lives of everyone for the sake of keeping their dominance boners erect.

On the other hand, the caribou don't make direct bargains. They pretty much throw their weight around and take what they want. The only people they have even the lightest of tabs with are the stallions that helped them take over Equestria without the need for mind control, but then again if those ponies ever brought that up, I'm sure they'd be tossed a mare or two and the caribou would consider their debt cleared, no matter what cost it was to said stallion, because they were paid through "liberation". They might not even consider their to be a debt for the same reason, and may even lash out against such males for bringing it up in the first place. I'm curious as to how many of those gender switched males are actually rebels, and not someone who had a deal altered on them. Actually, that could make for an interesting FoE story. One of a traitor male who agreed to provide services to the caribou during their invasion planning, had his finances completely wiped out in the process, and constantly tried to get reimbursed for their part in the take over, only to make so much of a fuss about it that the caribou silence him by taking what little assets he had left, and turning him into the personal slave mare of some other higher up. Maybe a rival who also made a deal with the caribou, and just happen to have saved his own fortune from the same decimation by being stingy about what he donated, thus making it so the one more loyal to the caribou's cause is punished for said loyalty. Hmm... how terribly interesting.

I guess what it comes down to though is that the caribou seem to believe that the world, in a literal fashion, owes them everything, while the truth is that they owe everything to the world.