"Protected by the lime tree. At least I know I passed out inside the house but woke up underneath the lime tree." He wears the hospital gas mask in explaining events to his two daughters. Laura hovers around the corner in watching the hospital. She sees plenty of mock humans among that aren't given a look unless the person was cursed or a wandering spirit. A few angels trying to convert folks to them. A grim reaper on the move constantly. A goddess of life in butterfly form breaths power over those with second chances and or children she deems. Her brother stares at these same places she does but it's likely his sight isn't vivid as hers. He can likely feel them there.
"What is that one?" He whispered asking her to the thing directly across from them.
"It doesn't matter what it is. Don't look it in the eyes. Those aren't eyes." She tells him and he keeps gaze away from it. Not wanting accidental eye contact. He believes her for her supernatural stuff. She twisted in sensing moves from undertakers, active changing auras here in the hospital and the exit of both life and death. There clashing weapons reverberated around them and metal chains rattling.
"If you want to exist, please leave in an orderly fashion this way. Leave all mortal possibilities behind." Panic as humans are loosing their bodies and spirit souls are told to enter the disc gates.
"Gah! You lot." A jittery undertaker hits the floor looking at the two children.
"I am not accepting this!" Her aunt trying to leave the hospital grounds. But the seeing of corpses everywhere and the unravel of the sight bindings over her right eye. She suddenly can see everything they do. See as Luara does. She packed away from the energy that is dropping people like flies. She takes steps in returning back to grandpa's ward. She sees the kids staring about confused.
"History has been dramatically altered." An undertaker telling another ans pauses to this spot. The creature. The kids. The human. The undertaker on the floor.
"So the displacement is to balance out the densities." Luara speaking up in understanding this much, "Looks like we need to cross over to their realm or be erased by that energy of some God." She posed direction about this, "What type of god is this cause?" She directed to this creature across from them.
"They wanted to erase traces of Clothus." It hissed, "I am not a clothus." She studies it head to toe.
"A hollow then. You are a living creature that eats others of your type." She makes it right over to it, "you don't have a face or eyes. You have the mist as your sight. You may exam me. Tell me that I am kid." It tilts and does so. She felt the cold brace through and around. It retracted fast and lowered.
"I wish not to lie to your face." It shivered.
"That's fine." She takes its cloth and drags it with her, "Come along then. Can't have you unaccountable. They may not have the tome access but I do." She pops her head in to check with mom and grandpa. They bodies lay at the bed but they stand as spirit folks, "Once we make it over to the undertaker realm, we could path walk to whatever kingdom best for us." The two stares shocked of her stare right at them, "Let's get a move on." She takes her brothers hand too, "going by those unicorns crest they are not worthy of our work." She pulled them both through the disc in not unwavering falter. Her aunt, mom and grandpa follows. She let free the hollow and her brother.
"Why are you saving me?" The hollow asked.
"Your in another tome. I have that tome. I am your acting death god. I am not the typical weirdo. Its fine to just cross under my watch. I promised a lot of true titles to be there when things get complicated." The being scratched perplex of her and frankly her family all had frowns. Some crossed arms and others palm foreheads.
"Damn Trickster." Approached a lot of undertakers here to check over soul names and pass them to the death time in counting. The slow down when finding her brother and her not mortally dead. Everyone else was taken by the change.
"Right if I count that entry correctly. Hollows are a collection of soul fragments." She pulled out from her shadow a very worn through tome that is very loved. A cobbled collection of pages in a unknown material binder. She brushed delicate over pages as she hold it in flip through.
The undertakers were about to intervene when folks that know about this family stops them. Hand on chest in staring deep at each other. One kingdom telling another to back down. Her brother braves in appraoching the reaper spirit that been his company a while. Luara notes it was improvement from the hell imp that used to be his friend. Strange small changes that mattered. The events had not changes but the situation of them did. She isn't dead yet.
"What are your plan now?" Appoarching the dragon kings advisor, in now having the attention to do so. She can see his granted the status of right hand. As an added bonus, this king made this guy his partner. He the second most authority even over the queen seat of the dragon kingdom. It's also interesting that the king been active in external business of his kingdom. So his queen would be active internal watch. Maybe.
"I shall be taking the position of barastor within the courts as we discussed. I will have my daughters work under me. I can trust the children to find a way of their own." Grandpa taking out broaches form them all. Luara knows her own hand work, he ordered these by asking a darker merchant.
"I have business to run. I can be hired as according to the sigil panel regulations. I have my own terms of Oath to mortally keep." Luara was done editing the hollow in the tomes and putting away the book through her torso. Her brother looked to the reaper.
"The young man is under death's order as a trainee. The god has plans." The reaper crossed arms, "Reminds me. Are you selling sand?" Turning to her.
"Depends. You looking to summon a true title from the depth of the multiverse or you just banishing a little unwelcomed guest?" She posed open her left hand, "As according to your regulations, black sand is forbidden sale in large quantities. I will negotiate such amounts if the use of this sand isn't going to break things." She crossed arms and tilts to the side in sigh, "I don't want to be nagged again."
"Shit. She is an cog oath path walker. That explains lot."
"Multiverse..." The hollow was trying to wrap its head around, "many universes? What happened for you to crawl from the abyss?" She shoots a dark glare over the hollow and it shrinks small for offending her.
"You just became the most dangerous person here." The advisor of the king sighed.
"It's weird that I am the least likely person to do anything. It's the potential of factors not going the way fate or krama wanted. I will need to go though the rank climb again as my record is no longer recorded in the system. I haven't walked in this life. Don't bother trying to understand why I know." She eased off, "I will start work with the courts as the errand girl."
"Well for now as an advantage is that your still living status. You can make contact to humans without gifts. You could seek some evidence that even undertakers over look." Her grandpa nods, "You can build back any ranks you need. Since you already grasp the system." She nods at that.
"Sand. He would like to order some." The reaper repeated in caught back her attention. The hollow makes a run for it, disappeared among the sea of undertakers. She not fazed in seeking it.
"Primal instinct to flee from death finally kicked in. About time." She removed a small glass jar of black sand, "I wasn't ignoring you. I was just quality checking. I don't want the wrong sand to the wrong hands." She actually testing the reaper as he take the jar and glares, "good. You are not stupid. I have to check. The last reaper didn't bother." She opened the jar with a small pouch just inside. He takes it with feeling the fabric used. He expression was wonder and confused. She took back the dummy jar and it's human world sand.
"This is leather binding for the tome being used as the pouch." He felt it with tilting at her.
"Off cut that was going to be thrown away. I have a lot of it. Repairs of many pages isn't simple. Nor making delicate soul runic corrections. I would gladly advise those that need help with such work. Altering soul names is to alter the soul itself. Not make can appease the souls to such degrees." She reflects that all this moment, she has been speaking the reapers language and thus not her family understands her. Given the nesh accent, the undertakers struggle too.
"The thing left us." Her brother worried.
"It's fine. It's to weak to harm. Maybe terrorize angels at best. I know how to track it down." She adjusted back to English, "My payment." She asked the reaper and he brought out mail and a death domain pouch of coinage. She tested the weigh and then accepted it. She puts the letters to her storage of shadow, her mask already reading the content. Death really did just take a stab in the dark to reach out for her service.
The letter of introduction. Ask about her soul wisdom. A small little soul test to know if she understood runic soul language. He has no hint of personal stuff. But... he draw a picture at the corner. It is her broken mask, likely she been his nightmare. Fear of breaking souls to shattering like her. Given he is death and knows when things pass, even in sleep could tell she was a living person with a life span. He likely had many arguments among his many souls, as gods are a collection of souls in one name. Their domains are the spread of their souls.
"He got me good." She laughed to the drawing and focused back to those around her, "I will send my business card and details of what services I can provide." She smiles warmly to the reaper, "Does he still read normal books alot?" The reaper taken back at that personal detail, "I am not a stalker before you even think it. I am just complicated. I will try and find a good book recommendation. When there so few being out there that can do what I do. You get to know folks as you spend more time talking personal between business." She frowns suddenly, "Maybe It be wise to warn him that I am a dyslexic. I will tend to reverse grammar. Even in my fixing of things."
"And this matters because of your service?" The reaper frowns.
"You're asking me and holding a strip of leather off the tome itself. Maybe put some common sense in action." She sees that everyone else around them as moved topics and is brought up the mapping to get directions to places. She couldn't help notice the chip in the crystal panel. There was a flaw in the colours hue. The way it was not hovering the air at the incorrect height.
"See this isn't a touchable mass." Her grandpa explains to his daughters and demonstrated his hand going through it. As it should. The reaper takes her brother to a different direction and she gives proper wave goodbye to him.
She follows the rest of the family towards the courts yet they all would be separated by paperwork, form filings and exams. She would only see them in the courts on their seats after this. She followed the dragon crest undertakers in crossing back and forth the living realms.
In collecting evidence for both humans and spirit courts. She finds herself an eye witness for several cold cases. She posed herself at graveyards, town benches that people avoided or just the areas no one was in often. She did this along sigil paths too, gathering materials to merchandise for others. Gaining up her reputation as a black market and shadow of the damned trader. She helped the damned and in return they left behind a lot of stuff. Before you question the tome strip leather pouch when she shouldnt have inventory; consider that her mask can actively go do mature and harder skilled work in sleeping hours. She still had no full inventory, even after this. She was able to afford a nomadic lifestyle and blends in among humans as a tourist. She kept to the living realm more often for as long as there is life in her to spend.
She soon avoided interference all together with afterlife attachments; keeping her promise with her grandpa. She run into her brother occasionally upon finding lost remains. His still under training so these aren't human remains but the remains of spirits that met misfortune in the living realm.
Her corresponding letters with death took time to re-establish trust. But once she made efforts to help him with nesh tome and directed him to some tomes in needing dire attention. He was back to red pen return letters of corrections. She appreciated his teachings.
This was her normal. This is how it is. Travelling across America with these adventures to cross some the court cases spirits wanted fixing.
Some things come about in full circle, returning back to Florida and staying at the motel of spirits. She was drawing up the gate way of the human world that the motel sits in and the gate to the pocket realm the real guests are staying at. As always she draw up each motel door with portraits of the long term stayers. The living unaware of the dead. The grandmother being the pocket ruler and goddess of this land. Her ancestral connection with the native American star gazer at their entry sign. Speaking Spanish as the Spanish came by seeking the fountain of young. This was reportedly Leon Springs which is on route from sea to inland crossing this motel complex.
"Your art has brought us plenty of smiles and more customers. Thank you." The eldest daughter of the abuela, as the caretaking of this pocket has pass to the next member. A new generation or maybe the ones that should have been (given how much was changed). Luara knew she doing the right thing. She may have no history with these people like she knew but she still felt she should reach out to them. That they are a key part of connections she learned. On some way, she loves this slice in living realm that anchors souls in trying times. A safe place as regardless of spiritual or domestics.
"You helped me when I had short amount of time change. I felt it right to repay my stay here to the best of my talent." She stands back in looking at the art and the vast details she achieved. It took her a long time to resource all this chalk from many worlds she passed through. The material of a gate between life and death has to have samples of both sides. She took the long route around to draw the other side of this gate. Today it was finished, and functions as expected of it, "No good deed is without action." Putting the chalk back in her cigar box. She used this box as it was going to be trashed by the cigar shop in st Augstine. It been conveniently the right size for the chalk peices and compartments to separate some chalk from others. A lovely lock hinge that gives a satisfying clicked in place.
"Abuela needs help with cooking tonight, it's what I came to originally ask about before being distracted by your moral." The daughter shaking herself back in focus.
"I would be honored." She hasn't been allowed to cook with them until they turly trusted her. This art was that final push to show she a good soul, "Will it be dirty rice or stuffed peppers?"
"Ropa veja." Laura smiles in knowing that translation wouldn't make sense. Beef so soft and shredded that it resembles torn clothing. It's a delight.
"I don't know how to make that but I look forward to helping." The daughter smiles warm as Laura does. They walked together until Luara makes stop to wash off chalk from her. Coming around to the service kitchen to get stuck into cutting the vegetables complements. As a team of woman that have long time cooking skills, luara would fall behind a little but make up for it in other ways. She pays mind to the hidden creatures directions to how hot stoves are and prevent any kitchen disasters.
"The death men are stopping by." Abuela worries about this deeply.
"Nothing will change overall." Laura speaking in her depth tone of reassurance, "this place will always be standing stone for all walks of life to shelter." They all heard her and made some questioning looks. Even so, Luara continued cooking at their side. Seeing abuela making last touches. The lads pulled the outdoor tables ready and dishes lined on each seat. The whole pan brought over and label each a bowl for all staff and guest. Plenty of the current guests were taking seats, talking over a sangria. Some toast for their own thoughts and the last to sit stood for the host to make proper speech of prayer. A last raise and all tucked in. Showing good talk about the food and how the flavor bring you close.
"My lady, you have mail." One of her abyss aminals crawled up her leg and seated itself to her shoulder. Purring and posed claw in offering this mail. She pets it warmly and it faded away. Left her this mail. She smells it first as sometimes abyss mail is a smell not a written one. But it was worldy, so it was one the neighbors that has a living realm. She opens it and reads them content at ease. Unfazed if being ender language and even less of it being from someone lacking sanity. Requested her advice of a tome stack. This meant these were likely finished tomes needing some storage time.
"Miss?" She folds away the mail, "Is everything OK?"
"It is. Occasionally I have folks that need my help and they aren't the sort you openly welcome. I will never ignore them, no matter how they look." She tucked back to her food with this. Abuela knew right then, Laura is actually a higher ranker then she appears. Given that there has only been peace and how respectful Luara is. Trust was kept.
"You must be careful, child." A guest pointed lazed and half drunk, "That doesn't seem like mail from someone with all their brain cells."
"Encountered headless once before, not that surprising." She puts the fork down and held her drink instead, "There a lot of creatures of the Abyss. Your values of common sense are meaningless to them. It's hard to see the green grass when you have no eyes. That's the sort of thing you caution around." She sips the sangria and knows it has no side affect. She already not sober, as being here is to be in a transient dream. But it's a lovely tasting lie. This motel isn't for the living to stay, but here she is.
"Miss Trixie, you wouldn't happen to have the documents we requested." The undertakers or death men as Abuela concerned over. They are a pair and been only eavesdropping this far.
"No business during meal time." Laura wags finger in mirror of Abuela, her left hand predominantly. Cleared bowls and happy full tummies across this table. Even one the undertakers tried the sangria. It was amusing that it was the partner feeling like the light weight. She is clearing away in being part of the team, she was back to normal business upon seating beside the pool. They needed to relax at the lounge sun beds to sober up. It's late so it was cold. She sent them on their way with the file of documents.
"About time you moved on." Abuela voiced at the pool fence.
"It is. I don't want to out warm my welcome. You are a fantastic family. A treasure in the rough." Laura provides her room key and an envelope of bills. Abuela guessed that Laura was making some money to scrap by. This was full pay for one room and extra for food costs. Abuela sensed she misjudged the young lady as a con artist but maybe that was due to Laura higher ranking. Laura is unconventional and so now she turns to the pool. She posed over it and it alters the colour to clearly be a gate somewhere else. A last nod and she jumps for it. Closing the gate above her as she made it through. The astounded Abuela cursed the pool and acts indifferent for someone abnormal as herself.
The black sand scratched and clings to everything. Her clothing wet and hard stuck over her. She felt cold in the harsh air gushing over her. The salt felt tacky to her. She crawls at the best her strength to drag her. Staggering up on two and gazing to a feature she placed her all that time. She flips over with coughing out the water and flops back to stare up at the sky. She stretch gaze about the fallen tree trunk and the spray of rainbow haze of the ember camp fire. She takes another deep breath and staring to the purple sky of green clouds. This evening the sea water is red with foam of pink. The plant life black grey speckled skins. All but the fallen tree which is a pale bone cream - the corpse without soul. It sheltered that flame from the worst.
"Up you go." A tendril of clothy material wraps around her arm and drags her backwards to the firepit, "it sits this way." It talks to itself, "it not broken human body. No." Plays about her arms and legs in testing them.
"The tomes?" She asked it and it startled off her, hide behind the tree from her. She softens up and tries a different voice, "books." He lifted with broken frown. This is the last nerve ends this Ender has to keep going. He flops them all into a neat pile. He was very OCD to align them exactly and order the tomes in row. He danced around them with even a tape measure. She lets him as it will keep him calm.
"No screaming. No sad. No worries. No happiness. They stopped. Just stopped." He grumbles several times in repeat.
"They do that. They will wake up again when they want to." She softly nods, "when they do, I let them go. They repeat all over again but changed. It's all a cycle. There a lot of them out there." It jolts several times to throw things over. Thrown to the sand in a dust puff and whinges, "That's what souls do. They are free. I watched as one soul wanted to be an universe and so it did. I watched as a god wanted to be human. They did. Souls come in so many shapes, materials and densities. Always changing. We keep those that want to be together connected. That's what these tomes are. Address books for souls." She softly pets the covers of the pile he brought, "Do you need a nap? I will protect you. I have protected many." She gave her right hand, "I just as strange as you. Sin and repent. Sad smile." It takes a while to think this over, "I let you free when you want. You just have to play nice with others. Can you do that for me?" Slow reaching and lowered away. She relaxed in watching the fire for a while and being part of the beach atmosphere, "I love this beach. It's purple sky and green clouds. Red water. Rainbow flame. Not trees. Broken things wash up here. I washed here broken too." She closed her eyes to take it all in and enjoy this sea breeze. The warmth of the fire. The sounds.
"Can I stay here?" She softly looks to them.
"I can't stop you. Those are not trees but you can trade fish for Shiney bits. The shine broken bits are trade with the god eaters here. Then you have the black body guy with the big colored eye, his a normal God from my realm. He walks this beach looking for me. I am often a broken puppet doll with a broken face." It nods to all this and wrote it down, "the Ender is a confused man that works with the god that walks this beach. He will say something like avoid me. He seems to got very confused."
"He sounds like a good soul. A man trying to make right of nonsense." They both laughed and had shared a happier expression.
"The books will sleep on my shelves. Locked in my domain. I will keep them safe. Even the broken pages." She stands up, "I go back now."
"What do I call you?" She posed over her left hand and they shake warm.
"Trixie Trickster or The Empress of Noctorm."
"Dellford Wednesday." She eased with getting up steady and nods.
"Would you toss me back into the sea?" He looked up to her as she stands looking over that horizon. He stands with nod. It was without much doubt or a break of sweat that he really did throw her back into the water depth. She posed good thumbs as she flies.