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kamy2425 · 5 months ago

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(Fanfic) "The Meaning of Death" The Chapter Where Rincewind Is At Death's Doorsteps (Literally)

In any profession, there exists a silent, unspoken rule about work ethics that, regrettably, most people remain blissfully unaware of. And that is: one should never bring work home . The workplace stands as its own peculiar universe, while home, in most cases, is known as the sanctuary zone. It's advisable not to muddle these two realms; otherwise, you won't know where each of these starts or ends. Before you know it, Betty from Accounting will be well aware that the bite mark on your neck wasn't from an escaped zoo snake with an uncanny ability to leap.

No, it's best to keep these two worlds as distinct as possible, aided by that little switch in our minds that signals when the workday is done. These cues could be as simple as changing one's clothes or indulging in personal hobbies. And you can never go wrong with a nice cup of tea and some light reading.

It was by this unspoken rule that Rincewind made a rather significant discovery within Death’s Domain: you can’t really die there. Not because of some mystical law that prevents it, but because it would be considered rude . Death, like all the workers in the universe, tries his best not to take work home with him.

Death’s Domain existed outside the bounds of time, untouched by decay and change. It was also, quite frankly, rather dull. Yet, Rincewind’s little hummingbird heart found an odd sort of comfort in the stillness.

You can’t die here, Rincewind thought, no accidents, no twists of fate, a world stuck in limbo. Stuck in time. If he runs now, he’ll only be back the way he started. Now the most challenging part in all of this is… to make small talk.

“Is, um…” Rincewind’s finger wavered uncertainty over some random bushes, “Is that a new shade of gray there?”

YES, Death replied, turning his flaming azure gaze towards the wizard. NO ONE REALLY NOTICES, THOUGH.

“It really, um…” The wizard coughed, trying to fill the silence. “It really complements the, uh… ambiance.”

"INDEED."

…

“LUGGAGE!” Rincewind shouted at the void, “LUGGAGE!”

To Rincewind's considerable relief, the Luggage appeared on the horizon and trundled back to his side. For an enchanted piece of furniture, the Luggage seemed to be less talkative than usual.

“Well, there you are. Right. All in one piece, I see,” Rincewind muttered, mostly to himself. “Shall we, um, get going?”

In an unexisting second later, the door closes behind them. The inside of the house was also as dull as the world outside. Rincewind couldn’t help but focus on the lighting. There were too many candles in place just to light up a hypothetical darkness. Without any Sun or moon, each window inside seemed to depict different times of day, while the inside of the house remained unchanged by it.

WOULD YOU LIKE A CUP OF TEA, RINCEWIND?

“Do I assume this tea is to DIE for?”

VERY AMUSING, RINCEWIND. Said Death, without a hint of amusement. He moved ahead of the wizard and turned down a corridor. AND YES.

As Death departed the room, Rincewind finally exhaled, feeling the weight of reality settle back around him.

“Why am I doing this?” Rincewind asked his own reflection through a set of mirrors hanging on the wall, “This isn’t what I usually do, is it?”

The wizard paced back and forth. His own adventures, which he had no say in the matter, had some sort of narrative theme. When he sees what could possibly be a world-ending problem, he leaves. Then, with a little bit of twists and knobs, the wizard would face that said world-ending problem, and boom! It somehow got fixed. Rince and Repeat. Rince and Repeat. Rince…

“I see the Master has brought a guest over.” An ill-stained voice echoed from across a room, “How delightful…”

Rincewind jumped at the sight of him. He thought Death would live alone. It was strange that there was another human here. Actually, if memory serves, there was a little girl the last time he was here. But something was oddly familiar about this old man. Perhaps he saw him somewhere…in a portrait of some kind? Or maybe…

“Rincewind, was it?” Asked Albert without pausing for a reply, “The Master has some paperwork to be done in his study. You’re free to roam about.”

Rincewind followed the servant of Death, “Um…have we-”

“If you’re looking for the toilet, just pull open a door. The room will manifest if you REALLY want to go. The Master is very proud of its decor.”

They ended up entering a little study room. A desk sat on the center of it, while a small untidy bed lay just next to it. Everything seemed to be gray and dull just like every corner of this place. Everything except some red and green elf shoes decorated with jingle bells at the tip, just below the bed. They look rather cozy, to be honest.

“Um, who exactly are-”

“I know dang well what you are, see.” The old man sat on his desk as he pulled out a pipe from the drawer.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He puffed, the smoke fleeing from his enlarged nostrils, “You’re here to replace me, aren’t you?”

Rincewind blinked several times as his mouth tried to comprehend his words.

“Well, I ain’t going, ya hear.” Albert continued on without interruptions, “I took too long to get this gig.”

“I’m not really-”

“ Immortality .” Continued Albert as he puffed three smoke rings at the ceiling, “It’s what every legendary wizard truly seeks. Yes, there’s power, but can’t do much about it if you’re dead afterwards. Took a lot of trouble talking to the guy and asking for a job here. And no one’s gonna take it away. And especially not some accidental-prone cowardly weasel-”

“Wizard-”

Albert slams his fists on the table, “Oh you think you’re clever, don’t ya?”

“Not really,” Replied Rincewind truthfully, “Aren’t you Alberto Malich, by any chance? Founder of Unseen Uni-”

“Yeah,” said Albert, spitting a glob of saliva into a bucket, “I’ve been there once. Not really what I wanted to see. Not to mention, some daft student there took my staff!”

“Oh.” Realization dawned on Rincewind.

“You, uh…” Albert leaned in, hope glimmering in his elderly eyes, “You wouldn’t happen to know if they’ve put up a new statue of me, would ya? Or what became of my staff?”

“Uhhh…”

Yes, Rincewind thought in the quiet sanctuary of his mind. The last time he saw that staff, it had been repurposed as a coat rack and occasionally as the Librarian’s personal back scratcher. As for the statue, it was rather small, squeezed into a dungeon with the inscription, “We Shall Not See His Like Again.”

“Oh, you know us wizards.” Rincewind fibbed with all the sincerity he could muster, “Quite a large statue, really! You probably can’t even see it—Cause…it’s so big!”

“Good!” Albert relaxed in his chair as a smile spread with wizardly pride.

“Look, between you and me,” The old man leaned and lowered his voice, “The Master can get a bit eh…bored with his line of work.”

“Bored?” Rincewind asked in surprise, “Death?”

“I know, I know.” Albert sighed, “And unfortunately, that always leads him to make little poking around in the Discworld.”

“Well,” Rincewind shrugged casually, “Gods do that all the time, don’t they?”

“No.” Albert responded wearily, “Gods trick people just for the fun of it. Death, well, he just wants to make sense of it all.”

“Sense?” Rincewind mulled over his past encounters with Death, attempting to piece them together like a disjointed collage. Sure, Death had appeared and frightened him more times than he could count, always claiming to be there just to observe . Same old routine— Rince and repeat. And much like the wizard, Death has become tired of it. And wanted to do a little change in the routine.

It appeared to Rincewind that, much like his garden or his peculiarly decorated bathrooms, Death wanted to become into something else—something more… humane. But surely, an entity couldn’t truly express emotions! Imitation, perhaps, but to genuinely understand and make sense of them? Rincewind wasn’t sure. He had never really bothered to understand Death—or even to view him as a “guy.”

“You could call it justice,” Albert went on, “But the Master would argue against calling it that. And to be honest, his little poking about is much more dangerous than any Gods meddling. I'd be afraid if I were you.”

“Oh, that’s no problem at all!” Rincewind shouted with a bit of pride himself, “I’m afraid all the time!”

“Well, that’s good!”

The door behind Rincewind creaked open, revealing a pair of legs. The owner stood up and widened the door to allow the Luggage to enter. Rincewind noticed that the Luggage moved with an oddly uneasy walk, as if it had been unsettled by an unspoken dread. As he touched the wooden surface, a cold sensation immediately spread through his fingers.

“You know,” Albert said, rising and rummaging through his storage closet, “it could make a great staff.”

The Luggage leaned in and nudged the wizard’s leg, sending a similar chill through Rincewind’s mind.

“Sapient Pearwood in such quantity,” Albert continued to search, “Who knows, it would probably be enough to make an incompetent wizard such as yourself make a decent fireball. Now where did my tools go? Ah, there it is.”

Albert retrieved a metal contraption and hefted it onto the desk with a crash. He turned a lever on its side, and hundreds of tiny metal teeth began whirling at a maddening speed.

“Alright, let’s get started,” said the old man, now donning safety goggles.

The Luggage’s handles quivered in place as Rincewind recoiled from the shrieking edges of the contraption. The Luggage- HIS luggage-stood perfectly still, no matter how much Rincewind tried to push it back. It remained in place. There were two kinds of being frightened, Rincewind knew. Much like the “Flight or Fight” response, there exists another set of reactions not widely known: “Fright or Freeze.” Rincewind considered himself a master of the Fright response. When danger loomed, he turned and fled the opposite way as quickly as possible. Freeze , however, was the unfortunate reaction the Luggage was experiencing for the first time.

“W-wait, hold on. Hold ON!” Rincewind flailed frantically at the crazed man. “This is my Luggage!”

The monstrous machine slowed as its owner lifted his goggles to his forehead.

“What kind of wizard would be foolish enough to leave perfectly good Sapient Pearwood lying around?”

“Me!” Rincewind exclaimed, surprisingly. “And if it just so happens that I DO have a staff, it’s a bit… box-shaped, with a penchant for occasional murdering, AND requires a coat of linseed oil five times a week! Thank you very much!”

Rincewind desperately shoved the Luggage out of the room and slammed the door shut. He urged the Luggage to keep up as they rounded a corner and tumbled down together.

The wizard’s shocked hands covered his face as Rincewind’s eyes remained wide open. “I can’t believe I just did that!”

It’s this place! Rincewind thought, having no repercussions of death in this realm, has made him to be someone he won’t have dared to be. It’s like being drunk!

The Luggage, now back to its energetic self, had its mahogany tongue out, patting with delight.

“What?” asked the wizard wearily. “Don’t look at me like that.”

The Luggage’s tongue stretched out and enthusiastically licked its owner in gratitude.

“Fine, fine! Alright!” Rincewind’s arms flailed in a vain attempt to push the Luggage away, “You’re welcome!”

The chest bounced up and down until it finally settled its hundreds of feet beside the wizard.

“We have to get out of here, don’t you think?” Rincewind spoke in a low voice. “This place is affecting us both!”

The air around the Luggage huffed in response.

“I never thought I’d be here again,” the wizard pondered, “Last time I was here, I wanted to… I wanted to—”

With his fists clenched at his side, the wizard’s mind conjured up an image of a seemingly cheerful tourist snapping photos of a tower of skulls. The Luggage opened its mouth and began nibbling on Rincewind’s sleeves.

“You probably miss him, don’t you?” Rincewind asked genuinely. “All this fetching and running after me—it must be rather tiring for you, doesn’t it?”

The Luggage continued to munch on his clothing.

“Now I’m here- of my own free will, by the way!” Rincewind sighed. “And for what? For some answers? To make sense of things? Hah! It’s not like I even know what the questions are!”

SQUEAK!

Rincewind looked up, remaining perfectly still. He lightly tapped his hand towards the Luggage while keeping his eyes fixed on the small voice in front of him.

“Have I finally gone mad?” The self-proclaimed wizard asked his sentient walking box. “Or is that little rat wearing a hood?”

#Discworld #Rincedeath #Rincewind #The Luggage #gnu terry pratchett #fanfic #Rinceflower #The Meaning of Death #I love this chapter so much that technically speaking can stand on its own without reading the other chapters. So I thought just to upload #Just for any fans of Rincewind and Death specially #I don't consider myself a writer but writing stuff of my favorite characters makes me so happy >u<

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