Soul Shepherd

Ozaiah slows down behind him, as they return to Glowhaven after a day at Morgan's make-shift morgue near Halia.

Eh. Why would it matter? I don't celebrate it anyway. Life's tough as it is, I don't need a reminder that I've also grown older.

... you're not wanting to plan anything, are you?

"..."

Ozaiah's quiet for a short moment, evading his gaze. She gently taps the wood of her staff.

"Well, I doubt you'd appreciate a celebration. Nor would I particularly enjoy organizing one."

Ozaiah approached the necromancer from behind just as they had turned to go their separate ways for the day.

"I wanted to tell you something. It's nothing ... special, but to me it's my most precious memory."

"When the Wailing Oak trapped me inside, I prayed to the God of Death. He would surely not leave me to my certain doom but... he didn't respond. And I was certain he would never again answer my calls. But then there appeared someone else, who wasn't going to let me die in there. You." As Ozaiah spoke, her usually dull eyes lit up and a rare warmth settled upon her face. She held her staff tight and close, not because it was important to her this very moment, but to keep her planted on the spot rather than lunging into Morgan's arms.

"I know I didn't exactly impress you on that day... but your determined face, and tight grip on my wrist, and reassuring words when you pulled me out from all those cadavers... it all remains edged in my mind. I am so glad you were there. And I hope you will always be there. And ... I want to be there with you, too."

(@windmaedchen-ozaiah)

*Morgan leans towards her, his hand firmly gripping the staff she holds to support his weight.*

I left my best impression on that day? Not perhaps when I fought Azora? Or Salorei? Or when I summoned those souls for the Wildborn ritual? Hey, I even bathed for you once.

You're right, it certainly didn't feel like you were particularly grateful for my efforts at that time...

... but you kinda made up for that ever since.

And you know what? I always suspected it wasn't exactly just the Tree that called me, but you.

After having listened carefully, Ozaiah gently shakes her head.

"No. I have not met Perseus personally at that time. I'm afraid I ... had other things to deal with. For the same reason I have not guided him in death. I have learned of his fate later, and perhaps I could have shielded his soul from Azora's grasp but... there is no point in pondering that now."

"Other versions of him? You have not experienced other dimensions, parallel to ours, but I do know they exist. Dura herself has explained such possibility to me. My devotion to the souls of this realm keep me here. Pray tell, how is this Perseus in other realms? Are the gods still alive then, too?"

"Morgan..."

She remains silent for a short time, thinking about her words. Then, she finally explains.

"My work led to his place, where he researched the dead. He was so terribly annoying and so wrong about Death. I could not leave his misguided opinions unchallenged."

"I suspect it's... a dimension thing. Sorry I couldn't reveal myself earlier.. back to your question. From what I've heard according to my Merlin's rambles-- every dimension has its own Esperia, and iterations of its inhabitants. So for the one I live on, he was revived by Merlin using some, ah.. unorthodox methods. And a large chunk of my magic that he asked for, never told me why; Only that I'd see for myself. ...And this seems to have happened in another timeline of this Esperia, if boss's notes can be trusted."

"I do feel tempted to ask Pers about this but, he likely doesn't remember anything from that branch. Only the events of this one, and to him- this timeline, is the only one that is real, from our last talk on the topic. And Morgan being annoying...? Huh, that seems common - at least between your Esperia and mine. Or "Finch's Esperia" as Merlin calls it these days.. But that's neither here nor there. I could talk about it more - maybe some other time - if you're interested. Do note that most is from Merlin."

"Speaking of Merlin... He's thrown me here - another dimension travel and.. Is it okay if I hang on here for a bit while waiting for my friend to get me back? She should be here soon - Pandora - so it won't be long."

"Oh-! I almost forgot - about the gods! Sorry!"

So you are... Finch? Forgive me - living souls evade the divine gaze I was blessed with. I fear a normal introduction is necessary to ascertain your identity. As for myself... Ozaiah. I guide the dead in Death's name.

I have no objections. You may wait here until your friend arrives. I have heard her name and even met her, if I'm not mistaken. Her home is far and hanging on only by thread. It is good to see she has made friends despite her aimless journey across worlds.

It can never hurt to ask your friend. I have wondered often before if the same souls of different worlds have means of communication with each other. You see, souls can carry fragments from their previous life into their next. There are signs that the Tree of Life is connected to worlds beyond its own existence... look at you and me.

I am just bound to this Tree of Life and may not easily be able to leave...

Ozaiah could not fully perceive the souls of the living, but she could see the signs of those who'd be unfortunate enough to die improperly. There were many here in Halia. Even though she was aiming for a nearby town now, she foresaw more work waiting for her here soon.

When she strode towards the city gate she noticed the figure in black by the side of the small plaza in front of it. It was him again. His back was turned, as he seemed fully engaged in conversation with a hooded blonde woman. A towering guard stood by their side. 

She was on the other side of the road and decided to ignore his presence. Keeping her eyes on the road and fields beyond the city gate, she moved across. Just for one moment did she stop to gaze up onto the gate. 

But just when she was about to take her next step, a shuffle next to her drew her attention...

(@windmaedchen-ozaiah)

"Evidently."

I don't. You hold no attraction for me, dead or alive.

"..."

"Then I suppose I was merely in your way? Surely you would never have crossed the street and opened a conversation just for the sake of ..."

She stopped mid-sentence. Best not to get carried away.

"... well, whatever. The dead have more charm than you do anyway."

Ozaiah felt annoyed by the mage's insistence to converse with her. At the same time, there was also a small bit of regret. She turned away, signaling to him that she wouldn't remain any longer. But... conversations... they were nice sometimes. She had many reasons to avoid closer contact with the people she met on her travels and every time she walked away lonelier than before. 

Ozaiah could not fully perceive the souls of the living, but she could see the signs of those who'd be unfortunate enough to die improperly. There were many here in Halia. Even though she was aiming for a nearby town now, she foresaw more work waiting for her here soon.

When she strode towards the city gate she noticed the figure in black by the side of the small plaza in front of it. It was him again. His back was turned, as he seemed fully engaged in conversation with a hooded blonde woman. A towering guard stood by their side. 

She was on the other side of the road and decided to ignore his presence. Keeping her eyes on the road and fields beyond the city gate, she moved across. Just for one moment did she stop to gaze up onto the gate. 

But just when she was about to take her next step, a shuffle next to her drew her attention...

(@windmaedchen-ozaiah)

"Evidently."

It was pitch dark. Only the small flame of the lantern  illuminated the area around her with soft green light. In the far corner, where the table should be, the corpse was still laying, now quietly. And as she approached, she saw that fabric had loosely been wrapped around it.

She shook her had in disapproval. Somehow she expected greater care of a man working with the dead. Bodies left out in the open should at least be properly wrapped and secured. But no point lamenting that fact. It was not her responsibility.

Ozaiah stepped closer but shortly before the table, she was suddenly and forcefully stopped in her motion. 

"Hgn", she moaned, as she tried to keep her balance.

Her feet were tied to the ground. A faint magical circle glimmered beneath her on the ground. With effort she could adjust her position within the circle, but stepping outside of it was impossible. She sighed deeply.

"You again."

*With some effort, Morgan gets up from his comfortable position on the floor just to the side.*

Yup. I knew you'd return. *He yawns* And here you are.

*He drags himself over and positions himself again between the captured guest and the body behind him. He lazily leans against the table's edge.*

"You have put me at a disadvantage. I fail to see how that helps to secure my cooperation."

Just a precaution to protect the body. People have taken all sorts of things from corpses and I have yet to ascertain what interest you have in them.

Since you are unharmed, it's an excellent opportunity for you to loosen up a little.

... 

"No. You can agree to my terms or not."

Ozaiah brusquely dismisses the request. There were often people preventing her from reaching a corpse but as far as she can recall, most just wanted her gone for good. Nobody has tried to force an explanation out of her. Until now.

"Unharmed or not, I am your prisoner. I have no intention to talk, just as I have no intention to act against you."

You - are - such a wet blanket.

*Morgan groans, then steps aside to give Ozaiah free access to the body. The magic circle beneath her feet disappears.*

"..."

Without another word, Ozaiah focused on the corpse on the table. The voices had roused the soul and it started to whimper again. Morgan's eyes were locked onto her every action. She could have stepped close to the body but somehow she felt the urge to show him a little bit more. Ozaiah couldn't quite tell what exactly it was... satisfaction over the attention? Pride in knowledge that others desired? Wanting to annoy him by showing more but explaining even less? Or just a long lost sense of snark, trying to spook him?

Either way, she gently extended her hand and cast a spell. Faint green light flickered in her hand but it was nearly instantly covered by the dead hand of the corpse. Even though the soul wasn't 'dead' yet, she provided it with some powers over its dead body and seeking salvation, it instantly reached out to grab her extended hand. Then, visible only to her, the soul finally parted from its body and disappeared towards the cloudless sky.

"..."

!!

Wait, that magic... that was... 

*Morgan knows exactly what type of magic that was. His own. How could someone else have had the same idea? But Ozaiah doesn't seem to be interested in further conversation.*

Hey, where are you going?

Oh, come on, you are really not gonna explain anything to me? I still don't know why you need to be so intimate with the corpses?

...

"No. It matters not how you ask... my answer remains the same."

"... Hm."

For a moment she felt inclined to wish him an easy death. But before opening her mouth, she knew it would not only be misunderstood but also cause even more questions. So without another word, Ozaiah walked out of the yard, in disregard of his protest.

It was pitch dark. Only the small flame of the lantern  illuminated the area around her with soft green light. In the far corner, where the table should be, the corpse was still laying, now quietly. And as she approached, she saw that fabric had loosely been wrapped around it.

She shook her had in disapproval. Somehow she expected greater care of a man working with the dead. Bodies left out in the open should at least be properly wrapped and secured. But no point lamenting that fact. It was not her responsibility.

Ozaiah stepped closer but shortly before the table, she was suddenly and forcefully stopped in her motion. 

"Hgn", she moaned, as she tried to keep her balance.

Her feet were tied to the ground. A faint magical circle glimmered beneath her on the ground. With effort she could adjust her position within the circle, but stepping outside of it was impossible. She sighed deeply.

"You again."

*With some effort, Morgan gets up from his comfortable position on the floor just to the side.*

Yup. I knew you'd return. *He yawns* And here you are.

*He drags himself over and positions himself again between the captured guest and the body behind him. He lazily leans against the table's edge.*

"You have put me at a disadvantage. I fail to see how that helps to secure my cooperation."

Just a precaution to protect the body. People have taken all sorts of things from corpses and I have yet to ascertain what interest you have in them.

Since you are unharmed, it's an excellent opportunity for you to loosen up a little.

... 

"No. You can agree to my terms or not."

Ozaiah brusquely dismisses the request. There were often people preventing her from reaching a corpse but as far as she can recall, most just wanted her gone for good. Nobody has tried to force an explanation out of her. Until now.

"Unharmed or not, I am your prisoner. I have no intention to talk, just as I have no intention to act against you."

You - are - such a wet blanket.

*Morgan groans, then steps aside to give Ozaiah free access to the body. The magic circle beneath her feet disappears.*

"..."

Without another word, Ozaiah focused on the corpse on the table. The voices had roused the soul and it started to whimper again. Morgan's eyes were locked onto her every action. She could have stepped close to the body but somehow she felt the urge to show him a little bit more. Ozaiah couldn't quite tell what exactly it was... satisfaction over the attention? Pride in knowledge that others desired? Wanting to annoy him by showing more but explaining even less? Or just a long lost sense of snark, trying to spook him?

Either way, she gently extended her hand and cast a spell. Faint green light flickered in her hand but it was nearly instantly covered by the dead hand of the corpse. Even though the soul wasn't 'dead' yet, she provided it with some powers over its dead body and seeking salvation, it instantly reached out to grab her extended hand. Then, visible only to her, the soul finally parted from its body and disappeared towards the cloudless sky.

"..."

It was pitch dark. Only the small flame of the lantern  illuminated the area around her with soft green light. In the far corner, where the table should be, the corpse was still laying, now quietly. And as she approached, she saw that fabric had loosely been wrapped around it.

She shook her had in disapproval. Somehow she expected greater care of a man working with the dead. Bodies left out in the open should at least be properly wrapped and secured. But no point lamenting that fact. It was not her responsibility.

Ozaiah stepped closer but shortly before the table, she was suddenly and forcefully stopped in her motion. 

"Hgn", she moaned, as she tried to keep her balance.

Her feet were tied to the ground. A faint magical circle glimmered beneath her on the ground. With effort she could adjust her position within the circle, but stepping outside of it was impossible. She sighed deeply.

"You again."

*With some effort, Morgan gets up from his comfortable position on the floor just to the side.*

Yup. I knew you'd return. *He yawns* And here you are.

*He drags himself over and positions himself again between the captured guest and the body behind him. He lazily leans against the table's edge.*

"You have put me at a disadvantage. I fail to see how that helps to secure my cooperation."

Just a precaution to protect the body. People have taken all sorts of things from corpses and I have yet to ascertain what interest you have in them.

Since you are unharmed, it's an excellent opportunity for you to loosen up a little.

... 

"No. You can agree to my terms or not."

Ozaiah brusquely dismisses the request. There were often people preventing her from reaching a corpse but as far as she can recall, most just wanted her gone for good. Nobody has tried to force an explanation out of her. Until now.

"Unharmed or not, I am your prisoner. I have no intention to talk, just as I have no intention to act against you."

It was pitch dark. Only the small flame of the lantern  illuminated the area around her with soft green light. In the far corner, where the table should be, the corpse was still laying, now quietly. And as she approached, she saw that fabric had loosely been wrapped around it.

She shook her had in disapproval. Somehow she expected greater care of a man working with the dead. Bodies left out in the open should at least be properly wrapped and secured. But no point lamenting that fact. It was not her responsibility.

Ozaiah stepped closer but shortly before the table, she was suddenly and forcefully stopped in her motion. 

"Hgn", she moaned, as she tried to keep her balance.

Her feet were tied to the ground. A faint magical circle glimmered beneath her on the ground. With effort she could adjust her position within the circle, but stepping outside of it was impossible. She sighed deeply.

"You again."

*With some effort, Morgan gets up from his comfortable position on the floor just to the side.*

Yup. I knew you'd return. *He yawns* And here you are.

*He drags himself over and positions himself again between the captured guest and the body behind him. He lazily leans against the table's edge.*

"You have put me at a disadvantage. I fail to see how that helps to secure my cooperation."

On her way, Ozaiah did wonder why there were several souls collected here. This place was far from Halia's graveyard and unlike other areas, people didn't frequent here. When she entered the small yard, she understood why. The corpses were laid out along the far wall, covered in cloth. The stench of death was mixed with camphor, emanating from another corner of the yard. Only three of the dozen needed her help, quietly whimpering as they waited for their salvation.

A single man stood by a table on the other end of the yard, bend over yet another corpse. That, too, needed Ozaiah's attention. But for now, the ones just ahead of her first.

She approached quietly, only the faint tingling of the bells on her staff announced her arrival. The soul noticed it and it began to groan.

"I am here", she whispered and she stretched out her hand to gently tap the wrapped body of the dead man. With a relieved hum, the soul finally detached itself from the body and ascended to the skies, returning to the Tree of Life.

Ozaiah extended her hand again, and brushed the feet of the other. That soul, too, reached the skies and disappeared from her view.

She took another step, now turning to reach the corpse on the man's table... (@windmaedchen-ozaiah)

Why? The bodies don't belong to you.

...

Forget it. That's delicate work and I won't let you touch any of that.

...

Even if it were a relative of yours. Wait 'till I am done.

"... You talk too much."

Ozaiah glances past him towards the body on the table. The soul within writhes and groans pained prayers. A shimmer of sympathetic pain flickers over her own face but ... the man standing between that soul and her emanates trouble. Trouble she doesn't want to engage with right now. It would be better to return later. There are others who need her attention just as much.

"No. And no. Solve your problems yourself."

On her way, Ozaiah did wonder why there were several souls collected here. This place was far from Halia's graveyard and unlike other areas, people didn't frequent here. When she entered the small yard, she understood why. The corpses were laid out along the far wall, covered in cloth. The stench of death was mixed with camphor, emanating from another corner of the yard. Only three of the dozen needed her help, quietly whimpering as they waited for their salvation.

A single man stood by a table on the other end of the yard, bend over yet another corpse. That, too, needed Ozaiah's attention. But for now, the ones just ahead of her first.

She approached quietly, only the faint tingling of the bells on her staff announced her arrival. The soul noticed it and it began to groan.

"I am here", she whispered and she stretched out her hand to gently tap the wrapped body of the dead man. With a relieved hum, the soul finally detached itself from the body and ascended to the skies, returning to the Tree of Life.

Ozaiah extended her hand again, and brushed the feet of the other. That soul, too, reached the skies and disappeared from her view.

She took another step, now turning to reach the corpse on the man's table... (@windmaedchen-ozaiah)

Why? The bodies don't belong to you.

...