A week had passed quietly for Zayne. He slept in the back room of Ragnar's mead hall; in the morning he ate breakfasts that tasted very much like his mother's cooking and interacting with the patrons. They slightly disturbed him though; some looked like the living, only slightly paler. Others definitely looked dead, with holes of various sizes going through them; some covered in large, dark bruises, while others still- like Ragnar- had weapons jutting out of their bodies. After breakfast Zayne would tour the underworld with Danthalia, and he found the surroundings were beautiful. Despite Ragnar's suggestion, he learned little about the woman; in fact, she seemed to shy away from anything personal about herself, except that she enjoyed being around nature more than the city they had only gone through a few times. He also noticed that while she was distant with adults, the few children they came across she was always warm and caring to them.
That morning Zayne was having breakfast and noticed a woman staring at him. She had fair brown hair, and grey eyes. What he couldn't help but notice though was the gaping holes all over her body.
"It's impolite to stare lad. Although I suppose if you stare at one who's staring at you then it isn't as bad," Ragnar interrupted the blonde's thoughts. "What could one such as yourself be thinking, eh?"
"I was wondering what happened to that woman; Why she looks like that- why any of you look dead while others could easily pass as living," the young man replied honestly. He was dying to know the answers to his questions.
The tall man sighed, as if expecting this eventually. "It all has to do with the magic of this realm. Centuries ago this land was barren, cold, and not a very fun place to await moving on."
"'Moving on"?" Zayne asked.
"Aye. This land of the dead is only a stopping place, somewhere you can prepare to be reborn into the land of the living. It is all a cycle, after all."
Zayne opened his mouth, about to ask about how one prepares to be reborn, when Ragnar silenced him with a hard look.
"But then my sister passed away. She was a powerful magic user, and even in death she retained her abilities. She used an art called memory magic; with it, she used the memories of those dead to give this world substance. That is why the towns will mirror living ones, or how you can draw, eat, or drink.
"Of course, even magic can only go so far," Ragnar amended, "She could use memories of all the dead to alter the world, but not other souls."
"What do you mean?" Zayne asked.
"Say someone had no memory of drinking alcohol," the giant man began, "then they died. If they came here and ordered a spirit, they would not be able to taste the liquor, as they have no memory of it. The same is true with food, and even certain activities. If you've never drawn a bow before and did so here, there would be no strain upon your muscles, it would be as if there was nothing in your hands.
"Therefore, we look like this. Our appearances start out as a subconscious thing; when we arrive here, we take on the form of our best memories, which is why you'll rarely see an elderly spirit. Some people see their deaths as most memorable. Do not look so surprised, where I'm from it is a great honour to die in the field of battle," the black-haired man motioned to his battle torn body, then nodded over towards the light brunette, "Naomi there takes pride in her death because it was her escape."
"From what?"
Ragnar shook his head in mock annoyance, "God's blood, you ask so many questions," he smiled then at the living man, "Naomi was put into an arranged marriage, and when she met her husband to be, she knew he would be callus of her, both physically and emotionally. She begged to wed someone else, but her parents refused. On the day of her wedding she ran away, getting so far as the ocean before her groom caught up with her. He tried to force her back, but she broke from his grasp, and knowing what she was doing, jumped the side of a cliff, falling upon the sharp rocks at the bottom."
Horrified, Zayne looked at the woman's wounds, seeing how the rocks would have protruded from her body.
"It was her decision, and she escaped a fate she believed was worse than death," the bartender added softly.
"I- I understand, but why continue looking like that? Why doesn't she move on to happier memories, or something?"
"Because the moment one dies, time stops for them. In this world, there are no more memories, they are stuck in the last moments of their lives. That is why moving on is difficult for most. It is when they give up all that they are, all of those memories, and just lets them go. When they can become a blank slate, then their soul will return to the living world to be reborn as another. For some, this takes years, others decades… and some never do move on."
"Why?"
"A few because they prefer the easy living of this place, like myself. Others cannot move from their identities, too stuck to their old lives or deaths. Then there are even some who fear the unknown of the new future, not knowing what their new lives will hold."
Zayne thought about that, taking in everything he learned, and realized how hard that would be. 'Not only would I have to see myself, "Zayne", as unimportant, but I would have to risk being born into any number of circumstances, and living a life better- or worse- than the one "Zayne" had lived. That is a rather tremendous responsibility.'
The living blonde glanced at Naomi again, only to realize Danthalia was talking with her. The darker brunette seemed somewhat relaxed and even smiled at her. As she moved towards the bar, the blonde couldn't help but wonder how she had died.
The living man watched as Danthalia moved closer.
"Hail Thal, tis a wonderful morn, is it not?"
The brunette smiled sweetly at the giant man, "Yes, a lovely morning indeed. If you will excuse me, Naomi wishes me to make her breakfast."
"As she does every time, she comes in and you are present," Ragnar retorted with a smile as Danthalia went into the kitchen. After twenty minutes she brought out a plate of waffles topped with sauteed apples and orange juice to Naomi, laughing and chatting with the other woman until she finished eating.
"Why do you still need to eat, drink, or even sleep if you're dead?" Zayne asked, watching the brunettes' smile.
"We don't. It is something that makes us feel good, feel normal, but we don't require it," the tall warrior explained as Danthalia returned to the bar, and made herself a cider. Sitting beside the blonde, she calmly sipped her drink. "Did we wish to explore more of the area today? I believe we should be able to make the ocean and back before nightfall," she asked, relaxed.
"Possibly…" the living man replied slowly, his question of her death weighing on him.
The dead woman tilted her head, "Is there something on your mind? Perhaps… I could help," she added hesitantly.
"I was just wondering how you died."
Zayne watched a complete transformation happen to Danthalia; her somewhat open expression instantly closed off, and her cheeks pinkened. Her eyes darted everywhere but at the blonde, and they showed pain, and- 'Is there also some shame? What could possibly discomfort her about her death?'
Her eyes finally stopped on the ground at her feet, and bruises and scratches appeared on her skin for just a moment, before they vanished, and Danthalia spoke, but clearly only to Ragnar, "I- I must check upon my charges," she said, before quickly walking out of the building.
Zayne watched her until she disappeared out the door and felt someone hitting him upside the head. Turning, he saw it was a hard-eyed Ragnar.
"For future reference lad, if someone doesn't visibly show how they die, then it is improper to ask."
The blonde winced, "I- I didn't know. I was curious-"
"And that curiosity will be the death of you," the giant man said, before giving a small chuckle. Grabbing a huge mug of mead, he took a large swig, before placing it back down, "Let me explain her death to you, so you never need burden Thal with questions again, and maybe you can understand her better."
"How do you know how she died?"
"Because she trusts me. Now, enough questions, and let's get this over with.
"Ten years ago, the lass was living in Aurum,"
'The same city I'm from…' Zayne thought.
"She was an upper class woman. Her full name was Danthalia Moonflower."
The living man gasped, and the warrior bartender nodded, "Younger sister to one Leandra Moonflower, who I believe you've heard of."
"Yes, she had a child out of wedlock; despite that her father still cared for her and her son."
Ragnar nodded, "Thal was as happy as she could be, except a man by the name of Sage Iceheart had taken notice of her."
Zayne had definitely heard of Sage, the city's biggest flirt, and a known womaniser by the younger generation. "I know him. I am friends with his older brother Nicholas."
Ragnar chuckled, but continued with the story, "She knew his reputation, so rejected him numerous times. I believe that made Sage desire her more, because he seemed to stop chasing woman for a month straight. He came back to Thal, and told her that he wanted to court her, that he had stopped chasing skirts to show how committed he was. She didn't believe him, so held him off for another month. When he still showed restraint she finally caved and said yes to his suit."
"Don't tell me she fell in love with him!" Zayne exclaimed, only calming when the dark-haired man shook his head.
"Nay, that she didn't, but she enjoyed his company, and they went on many dates together. One day he asked her to a moonlit rendezvous in the forest, which she accepted," At this, the man's blue- gold eyes darkened, "She went to their meeting place, expecting a picnic or something as equally romantic. He arrived, and- and forced himself upon her."
The blonde's mouth fell open, his eyes holding disbelief, but the dead man nodded.
"She escaped him while he was… taking a breath, and ran as fast as she could, trying to get back to the city to tell someone of the travesty he had wrought upon her. She never looked back, tree branches tore at her flesh and hair, but she didn't slow… until she tripped on a root from a cypress. She caught herself, but in the few minutes she took to regain her bearings Sage caught up with her. He threw her to the ground, and choked the living breath from her," Ragnar finished softly.
Zayne couldn't believe it. 'I understand why he would kill her; if it was known that he violated a woman, he would have been disowned by his family. But why would someone do something so horrendous to such a sweet person…'
"Since coming here she is reserved, and she is unable to move on from it, not truly. She cannot help but assist another person when their life could be jeopardized. You didn't know this, but the night you saw Thal, the living world had a cold snap."
The living man blinked, "If I had been passed out in the cold, I could very well have died…"
"Aye, and the lass couldn't let that happen. She didn't know where you lived, so…"
"She brought me here, so I would be safe from the cold," realization dawned on the man. Turning his head back to the doors, he felt bad for keeping his distance with her for the past week. "I… should go apologize to her."
"That would be a good idea lad. She'll most likely be at her house; if you take a left outside the mead hall, pass three paved roads on the right, hers will be the fourth, but it'll look more like a deer path than an actual road."
"Thank you," and with that, the blonde man left to make amends with Danthalia.