The moment they opened double doors and made a vague announcement of nobility among shadows. She lost him in the foot traffic. She lost everyone really. She stays at the threshold, waiting for opportunities. She crossed not being ready to be pawns to the many present. She knew that of they want her in, they have to invite her to their game.
It makes sense that shadows disappear under spotlight. But any abyss take the light and devours this light. Even shadows are lost in the darkness.
She stands at this door, it's a good veiw of how the aristocratic body of this kingdom stays self contained and uninspired of outside influences. She watched who taking sides openly, but were the eyes fall. Who tilts down to who and those that stand above even the top notch. The only exception was the one that is the monarch, the crown the shimmers in the dimmed lights. She couldn't help a little soft purr of seeing such a beautiful place and full of people. All fantastic dolls that dance to please the crown. She loves it enough to felt it need it capturing in long-term.
I guess if I want a picture, I will have to use the flash settings. Make even the focus of this peice glimmer. I will make all dark and snap my rude photo.
She softly ponders the cloak for a moment, and smirks in a gunine place. Her shadow puppets the cloak to walk into shadows, following his traces. But now she was without her shadow or cloak, the sheer terror of her real shape pulled everyone to fear.
Wow, they all taste like chocolate. The fancy top shelf stuff. A few flicks of alcohol.
She can't help a creeping smile, the fear was delicious. She now has cast the darkness she needed, minupulating the realm light for that room alone. Once there is only darkness, she had the opportunity of blinding them with a fancy old camera (the event photographer who been taking pictures of couples was kind enough to nearly drop it). She flicked a spark at her hand for the flash - the whole room shimmering. She now takes the undeveloped film. Just the photo she wanted, the rest are unshaved. She pulls all back to how it should be, camera back to the camera man. The realm light back to the dull dim. The cloak of her mask is back over her shape. But now she holding three copies of crystal slates. She admires the one for herself. Putting it through her cloak.
"You love making a scene." The monarch cuts past all the lower people and with left offers her in. She using her own left hand instead puts one the slates in his hand.
"When you have a room of such a fantastic collection, I just couldnt help bit admire it." She lets him look at the image for himself, "I do love beautiful things. There a sort of solemn somber in how well woven you keep them." He looked at the image detailing it capture, finding it so complex. He carries the gift, "You really sure about inviting another crown in a delicate place. Not that I have any interest to take anything. To me, a landscape is best admired afar."
"Take it as me finding more to take your test." He carefully gives a septal bow and she she nods back.
"I did say something about that." She softly strides at his side, "I am sorry for the dimming light. I just wanted to capture the moment perfectly. I see myself recalling this moment again. I have many a collection of such beautiful things, memories that aren't to be. But a crime to let them go."
The king walks her through the nobility, and takes a seat back in the throne. She makes a proper bow at front of his seat, staying leaned down until he indicates otherwise.
"Is that way you like standing with the unknown at your back?" He asked. She wasn't commanded to stand right but she had to correct her posture. Using this moment to click back joints to a mimic of a undertaker. Once she lowered back to her bow, he finally indicated for her to stop. She finally felt a fitting reply, as everything is nobility talk.
"I don't have eyes." She shurgs gentle, "That's not how it works." She tilts in pondering, "But I am not blind either. You should take a moment to calm down your folks. As a tainted soul, it seems my ploy of a tease went to far. I can taste the fear and anger."
The monarch waved and the music began, they all knew to take this queue as an order to ignore her. She can finally stop being so attracted too many souls at once. Able to calm her traits down.
"Enrty candidates and those invited by his majesty order." She steps aside and softly to a spot her cloak and mask hung among the other shadowing members. She goes a step further in hiding into shadows, blending into darkness. Stealth active; Hunter among shadows and nightmare skill - traceless to anyone not even the damned. Alert - a trace mark is still active. This caster knows where you are. That's fine, it's the cloaks owner or even some God like Death. I would even guess its the Ender title.
She watched the crowds of beings around. The children from school - she meant to be that young. The glader seems the most keenly able to see her. He must be a Darkwood mix Gladers power. Or he regerts something he left behind alive. The darkwood isn't cooperative. The Seer looked defeated, lost without their time protection. Upon death as a human, tome access is often lost and all the benefits. The Fallown is a distant relative and is proactively trying to make allies. They seem trying to hard to gain the same as everyone else. Fallowns have ignored and evades the supernatural spirits - putting them not knowing basic commons. They don't know undertakers had crests, layers of society and differences between clans (so to speak). This was a sink or swim moment for this kid.
Her attention now flows to the undertakers around them that have different crests. She sees the values they carry and the way they choose to interact with each child. See who is poaching or evaluating the kids. Who is an enemy to steal fro dragonfly and who is the allies of this kingdom. It's nice of Omens to have his bird preaching on someone his keen to help fate turn leaf with. A worn clay man that struggled with everything. There a chain that rusts over their shoulder, the tell remains of someone that should have a crown. She sees omens leery of other factors here, not having awareness of her play on this chessboard. She hands the last slate photo to someone brushing her shoulder. That icy deep stare that he wants her to talk.
He takes it with inspecting the depth of details this photo brought. If this was a photo on paper, it would have lost value. As she choose crystal, hiding depths in layers. It's more like a wavelength compression into a 2d image. Angling it shows 3d immersion and other secrets. Like she shows the way fate has tied undertakers among them - whose relationships will sour and who were best scynonization. If held exactly into the dark, there will glow values through the image like the kings crown and the other treasures of the kingdom. Weapons in whose pocket. It unveiled several assassination attempts that she foiled. He soon passed this slate to Greyhound that also then does the same inspection. Off Matthew left to deal away with hazards. She stays watching at the wall, she has no interest to do any test on these people right now. The ballroom is enough to occupation.
"The fallen king." Heard often when staring at the one omens held grip of, "Why would our king bring him here?"
"Crownless." They have no respect without the artifact. She looked at other potential candidates too as the aren't in the spotlight and have opportunities.
"Bring in the criminal." The king orders and the doors open of the mad man turned a clay figure bound in many curse prevention. The man behind mad in rage even if his tied like a prized pet, "A prized tribute. But it's down to the candidates in what they think should happen to this man." Ah, his own test of their wisdom. It's a far way to see of he can ally with them.
"Attention the monarch of Unicorn crest and his queen has arrived." The king of dragonfly stands and has to formally greet. Make truce of each other.
"I bought along some potentials to take part in this test, as we agreed." They shake at this and throne chairs are brought.
It's interesting that the dragonfly sits alone but the unicorns divide with a king and queen - splitting internal and external. But it's also clear the dragonflies are a smaller pocket realm and have a even smaller kingdom. It has to be said that quality of the two sides is visible. The bodies made for the Unicorn crests are a lower standard, even the king has improper hand joints. The string soul strainds are not laces efficiently. There also not individuals in clay featuring - the same waist size and same frame.
It brings Leah to peer about the candidates that been added in last minute in how they are interacting with the ballroom. The crests currently at display. The all candidates (joining for a kingdom or a kingdom given a crown) are the only ones not dressed to code, goes without saying but nor is the criminal. The newbie undertakers are in basic walking sigil armour kits, some those to be crowned are also this way. Those clearly being sponsored by potential allies have some nicer gear or have accessories that show class. There are three candidates that are properly well kept, but to her eyes they don't seem right. However, that isn't up to her. These crowns have energy to choose their owners.
"We obviously need some information around what this man has done or at least the sins type." The candidates for crown step circling the test subject. The newbies are scooping the type. They are given time to speculate, a few times was the sin chains tested and a single spell of casting judgment at low energy. This gave them the idea that his meant to fall far and fast to a hell. A candidate she hasn't taken interest for being all scrubbed up but had no sign to her as a suitable sort. This guy has a tattoo mark, which most have when counted by someone with tome access at time of human death. He is using it in hovering around the criminal, making a dark glare on the man.
"He misused the tomes, multiple times." He announced to the others, "He is a Trickster." She has to give the man credit for figuring that out then just taking other people assumptions. And sure the criminal looks the part, but no one at this point spoke of tome access or new this man did something to souls of others. She sees how the rest of the room stares watching with not a whisper spoken. Only telepathic links are active. Matthew is back from all that take down of those that meant harm. He stands leaning the wall watching the monarchs test. She had to step aside as he stood blocking her veiw. But this was intentional, as his left hand pulled her from hiding. She got the clue to not hide but then he moved her in front of him, hands on both shoulders. She although uncomfortable, guesses this was mean to be a clue.
"Leana!" She tilts hearing from across the room. He watched her reaction to hearing her name. She stays very cautious, calm though. She not running to them but she is trying to look for them. Her approach to listening to the whole room, feel of the energy pressure and she does have a type of sight. But it's not typical sight from light. She unaffected from candles which were being light around the criminal as tests. She unfazed by the spell casting. Nor is she acting like a human being here for the frist time.
"The one that would have the best authority over this man would be the removed Trickster." Someone in the know isn't always an enemy but they came by that information is dangerous.
"How the heck did you get a custom body?" She asked by someone at her back, Matthew pulled he away from them. Nearly in saying he doesn't trust them. She finds it all strange. It's when she felt the sinner chains, this was an ex-end of this time space. She will guess its Doltan. It's clear that the Ender title is with Matthew and not Doltan. Both in equal positions of triggering erasure of undertakers, but Matthew has the edge over Doltan. But there is something that Doltan is qualified for, a crown. He has the right balances of fate and sin but lift and Repentance.
"Lacking a crest." She notes, "What brings you here, Doltan?" Matthew turned her around facing this undertaker, "The sigil pathways has beaten you hard. Not difficult to be refitted to a new clay vessel as an undertaker." Doltan looks he walked hell a few trips, ragged clothing at around the legs and feet. A distress worn expression. Missing finger tips (this is a common problem for those that loose safety or an ability to access craft men).
"Your a Trickster too but you are without crime." He grumbles.
"It's a long history. I have a lot of things. My human father being mad man removing souls from the tomes onto individual parchment seals for clothus market sale is his human idea. The tome blindly trusts the fool, the index holder is however an idea of he things taking the names from the index would even achieve his goal. It was bad enough trying to put my own name back in." She at least posed causal to the truth spoken. The made every single undertaker turn this way and double to the criminal in chains, "There a difference between core pages and index. The index shows you the chapters of which book and page turn to look. The core pages are the foundation souls that cog rank this entire universe. Without them there would be no time, space or meaning." She flats her left hand in a soft throw, "They say as a sort myth among folks. The core pages are where you find true titles of gods and other true examples. The Meer brush of them invokes their knowledge or power."
"It's ways that little extra to far." Matthew locked her into his arms and she lets him.
"If it was anyone else to hold me back this way, I would have broke free." She informed him.
"Well if I said something was about to happen that you wouldn't like."
"Releasing the mad man and making him a fledged undertaker? I can see that happening." He stares really checking, "I may harber some hard feelings but I also believe in chance. He clearly is a good man to those he loves. Crazy man always hated the idea of the children being used. Because of him, they turned to other sourced of sacrifice. Has been keep at lifting the educational standards of tome keepers. The ones often that die are soulless vessels. This happens a lot with the Trickster bloodlines. They don't make it past 9 human years if soulless. Bodies of the soulless need intense care for further aging."
Even so, he still held her back as they releasing him. The group vote of potential monarchs and the actual monarchs of two stable kingdoms. He is given a bunch of undertakers hold backs, as any sinner undertakers do. Tracker mark and other security measures. He's let free the bindings and allowed to stand up.
"Welcome among undertakers, a late introduction as you have a dark past. But there plenty around here that carry sins. It's often gossip that all sin weigh the same. Be it breaking law among us or breaking a gods law. The only laws that exclude are those outside our realms. Clothus have their own separate system, as example." The Unicorn Queen speaking to the ex-convict. She made a pose and her team gift the man a cloak.
"I would still walk carefully here if I was you." The dragonfly monarch voiced, "There is a third crowned among this hall. They are a neutral party for undertakers." The a measured stare about the man, taking the implications of him not being one of them, "I do know there are some kingdoms that accept trades or even welcome not undertakers. Although this kindness will likely no be in the measure the third crown can provide." He turns to the Unicorn king, "There is a market for everything these days, but it's nice that these things are regulated heavily between our realms."
There is a clean cut away conversation at act here. May taken the man a few seconds to really bare all these thoughts. Yet he steps aside and allow the rotation of nobility upper class undertakers to ask permission to hire particular newbies. Each of the four main blood humans turned middle class undertakers have found themselves sponsors places in different departments - all in the dragonfly crest kingdom. The attempt to poach has fell short, and the inadequate folks are removed softly from the party by shadow spy members. The Unicorn and Dragonfly acting together in truce. The last of the prized tributes was taken in with some convincing. So she can now focus on the moves of the potential new crowns.
"What you think would test their courage in this setting?" She asked Matthew, "Plenty aren't just there yet but that doesn't mean they aren't good enough either." He has held her shoulders this whole time and she kept clear of intervening in affairs. She stays watching at the side even if he did move her from hiding in shadow.
"Arent you scary enough?" He asked.
"It's not that. Just as a title of Ender tests you inner will. I promised to test these candidates as a nightmare should. But of course, undertakers don't dream. So my method must be different." She at least notions that she looking at him while talking to him. He frowns deeply in disliking her awareness but at the same time there comfort in not being alone.
"This chessboard ballroom is enough of a test if you know how undertakers work." He replies and she looks forwards in how groups are made among and the way concern sharp snaps others flaws. It was over hearing the man that omens was watching. He was defending his worn body as a pride of scars he survived just at being here. She finally gets something of an idea.
"Fancy a dance?" She was asked by Matthew.
"A pleasure." Following his lead, it was new song by the band. Partners began to join too, showing off scynonization. He seems pretty occupied with Omens flustering around in three forms. He doesn't really know which one to watch for most. So she began a little taps conversation in their joint left hands. He had finally guess she was talking in tap with her left hand and her pose to face directions to things he should be looking at. She rap tap reporting moves of monarchs and their teams. There were a few time they weren't in time to the music but as they worked together watching the room. A larger picture was plenty clear. The corruption of bad gossip or attempts to weak monarch powers soon quelled.
"May I?" Greyhound asking to replace Matthew. She looked at to Riddle as it's more his choose then hers.
"If it's the command." Left hands swapped. Greyhound isn't as smart. She couldn't make good clothus talk to him. He was to the song dance and nothing more.
"I take that your retirement or step down isn't something you plan." She softly strides dance steps with Greyhound and his not impressed of this being her chosen topic, "Your a tired man, there only so often death can turn away." She proven a point in the over flex of his left arm but she quick to return it and act as if it hadn't happened. He wasn't feeling that. The soul threads lost there, "Second death happens to those that burn out. It's a common place thing of this universe, this universe alone. Time reverts naturally from whole soul populations fading." He held her in feeling scared of that, "Don't be afraid of change, as that's all it is. Souls change status or material. They cycle anew in that new state." She takes a very close pose, "I seen and felt it plenty before. So it's why I want you to feel not alone." She breaks away gentle and he clearly going through the emotions. Even his way of dancing was slipping, "Would you like me to finish anything?" He stopped them both and with a long stare.
Watch over the crest at all costs. The threads weakened more and she gently takes hold of him and slow danced.
It's not going to disappear. Not when I am watching. He softly is relaxing over her the longer they slow dance. The last little flicker and then sleep. He was in internal sleep. She finds herself singing softly, a sort of soul prayer. Secretly removing his core from this body. Pocketed gently away. Her song held depth and many of her fragments hues more power behind it. The place was only now her voice, as she softly stops to lay this empty clay shell. Close the eyes.
"Farewell warrior." She stands, "As I suspected." She lifted away the cloak and pose open her hand. Tome pulled from her skins. She had one tear fall black and the erasure of his name, "I dislike that they leave but even I can't stop them." She ponders in wondering if she can transfer him somewhere else in her watch. She right them sort of smiles and removed her mask. She pulled through her face void and with a little awkward blind grapple. She removed a tome from inside herself. She puts her mask on and croaked a deep smile.
"I am sure he will make it work." She stamps his soul name into this book. She drops now has soul through the page. She closed it, gives a soft song hum. And the book is returned back through behind her mask.
"Course you beat me to it." Death cross his arms, the representative among undertakers in watching tomes. Yet behind the eyes is the true title, a steady stare of her work.
"I was here and now. Why not?" She waved the floating books to death. He goes through it. He articulated that she needs some corrections. She steps to his side doing exactly that. He stares at how she used her claws to poke and shuffle letters then removing and writing them. He thinks deeply in now understanding her method isn't godly or by soul law. It's outside of his power.
"Damned Freak is upsetting the top boss." Joseph bragging right up and over the undertaker shell, "Wow, second death. I have never seen one before."
"His soul just ran out of energy. Ran out of time to be in this space. This is a common problem for this place. Many alter soul and other just tend to fade. This case was a fade away. If he had altered, he will have been classed an outside ranker. He should have been under my tome if he had stayed." She puts away the tomes that death weren't bothering. He still holding the current undertakers realms index, "If it's the Ender title you looking at, we all know already. It's a concern that can't be changed. But if I start breaking things, it would be pointless."
Once this was spoken, death returned the tome to her. He pats shoulder in thanks and takes a god gate away from here. Greyhound remains are taken away and Matthew was back at her side. He wanted answers. Yet there is her sorrow that is evident, and didn't care for manners. Hugging him for comfort. She holds very genuine hurt of the man dying in her arms. She can't be completely sad as she knows where the soul went and the next cycle he will be a part of. She even suspected that things come back around, recognizing that his soul name has aspects that look like Omen's soul name. There was some parts of Greyhounds soul name she seen in others. So in some way he isn't one at all. That's the beauty about soul names, traces of eons etched.