The wasteland has claimed the price. Curiosity in finally resenting for a wrong his soul held longer then she met him for has been relieved. This is just a part of the system souls do in enacting in a made universes, no matter how dangerous, damaging or 'unfair'. She edited entry in the tome provided, In the one that visitor was active keeper of. This time zone area once a tormented chaos of hurt souls was purified. Not of an act of some gods will but the repentance of a sinner. It doesn't undo what was done, and he paid a hollowed price for this as he had. But for the first time since she met Curiosity, he isn't a human or an undertaker. He entered that place as an undertaker. He leaves with less soul. Less himself. He is a seedling of an angelic soul. She marked the needed closure of his wipe out. Picked up all that remains of him, and carries him to the next stage of what happens to 'enlightenment'.
This process of a soul shedding burdens is actually recorded and naturally occurring. Souls despite of being paradox things; a metaphorical, untouchable and with no uniform defining assumption of shapes. Souls in worlds outside of 'Living' become 'mineral stone' like an element in unknown periodic table that makes the make up of cosmos. Like elements that condense into the many stages of matter; there are many stages, variations of souls and technically speaking each tome is the codex of a uniform collection of souls. Thus tomes are the data entry of cataloguing the elements of a collective soul material. So the multiverse is the overlays of differing soul elements interacting the the same cosmos law. Her own soul has learn, documented and textbook researched the way 'soul' can change as it progresses in differing material stage changes or environmental conditionally. souls have the bases of any element; at any given time - solid, liquid, gaseous and plasmas. Soul shed all time - emotions, the ability to latch on bodies, breath life and create energy. Souls are the biggest currency across multiverse tome keepers. knowing your tome and its soul codex laws it key to safe guarding the very souls of tomes breath.
So this was not a bad outcome for her beloved one. He lost all the frilly interesting parts of what made him so attractive to her. The ice aura that she clung to all her first time ago is especially seems to been taken away. His just base core letters that held no past, future or history. Yet there is also this sort of, he allows her to be here in such a vulnerable time. He very much knew that she eats soul languages, he was so weak and very much the definition of the sort of thing she ate in previous worlds. Souls weakened this way, lost everything are easily influenced and very dangerously empty. Enlightenment took away 'desires'. Took away 'personality'. But does it? She has plenty a time see no matter how much souls shed off; core things (flaws and manners of how soul want to be shaped) don't actually be erased by such losses.
She had already knew inside her own soul what she is choosing to do with such a pitiful seed of a soul that remains. It was no meal, she could have erased him of ever existing at all in this state. Although, she seen him this way another time before. She was clueless back then. She held him inside herself like that was the only way to never loose him. She knows now with much older maturity what she has to do now. It means she edited her own soul entry too; needing to force herself into able access to heavenly lifestyle. She was already in a form close enough, the universe cluing her in, as already an wingless fallen angel. In this era of time zone that she is currently within. She gains back some her old angel Sigil pane with all those divine functions, looses a bunch of hell accessibility for now.
Her mind made - she is going to be the one that carries him up to the several realms that are nicknamed 'gardens'. The flower patches that angels are born from, although not all angels are flower based. The higher ones have been born from fruit and other pure natures.
Like it was covertly already the way universe speaks to her, there is a method for her. She can't fly without those wings - well she could but that isn't the method this universe is wanting from her. The universe took away her wings. Here and Now. In the fragments of broken London landscapes. This wasn't a rise to heaven as some expected. There is the human soul route of 'the stairway to heaven' with its god length queuing system which has own radically overly complicated rules. Instead, heaven of the future is train access.
No joke, the London underground has cross roads of Sigil. Sigil crosses many dangerous boarders. There is the living world stations that all known. Then there are the trains that take the departed to afterlife destinations. There is a communal use train for demigods to travel to heavenly worlds on such occasions. Accessed at saint Paul's cathedral tunnel access. The time warping doesn't affect the underground network. It is a zone of sealed variations already.
"Wingless Cherubim." There is racism even here among heaven. She isn't surprised with those that operate the working of heaven realms. Especially those faceless gods whom are so carved by their worshippers that they are the embodiments of the faiths. So staring squarely between a catholic angel and the laughter from a protestant angel. It seems the moment they seen her, they turned against her for being not a Christian. Unlike how normally they attack each other. They're war is long and deep, well traced. Heck they have whole sways of historical fact as blood their hands and whole bloodlines of famous people taking sides. So someone like her, a stranger that isn't their faith is new meat to hate for. They mirror all the good and bad of religious cult culture. She turned away as they spat. Gladly they were back at each other from her lack of raise and some other folks are heckled on entry. She sighed and looked at the small remains of Curiosity barely substances of a soul in her hands. Grounding her as she waits for this train to carry them.
"He finally let go of that. The last part he held back on. He held on you knowing that you are the one that carries him up when he couldn't." She looks in smirk of another guarantee with Curiosity. That some folks hold on no matter what they are.
"He choose right folks to company him." She nods. The pattern feather Celtic weather worn man, strong wise gaze measuring the outcomes as always. A wirily smile softly meets as he knew. God's know. He offered his left hand, still alert that she isn't a normal being. Shelters her and in turn his follower's seed of a soul; to be at her side while she is the transport from this disaster site. They both had eyes onwards and carefully watching. She walks in among London's footwork of ants, in the shadow shelter of Omens avatar. Eyeing for thieves. Taking from the crumble ruins of the area and into glitching and shifting surroundings. She isn't afraid, she evaded dangers that she already predicted about the above ground.
Heavy harsh step downwards into the Underground sub station platform terminal access ticket booths. There is somethings she can not avoid. She went for a self serve ticket issue machine, and paid as a human on a trainline not available by normal means.
She paid plenty other prices in shedding her traitor current Identification. New spray of blood, now silver and even black blood drips on the ticket issue terminal. She accepted even more heavenly law requirements like divine burning into her flesh the passport needed for her accesses. This was nothing for demigods, a light wound that disappears without a scar or even leaving marks at all. But she knew this was soul base markers that all tome administrators seek in tome identification checks if she was subject to a on spot divine judgement. Any local soul guardian / boundary monsters that held the local curtain needs to see, smell or feel that she has these marks. No matter how her flesh adapted from being outside of time and space (thus being ill equipped as an 'abyss entity'). 'Heaven' the status of the medium she is going to be reaching (just as the realm she is now is 'living') leaves no mercy and no excuses.
Passengers step on and leave on the differing versions of waiting platforms. Glitching era of time are so apparent and that more dangerous now that it was on the surface above the underground. The more abstract the train cart is becoming the 'higher' or less dense the load is of the trail itself. Omens paid is version of travel and was back to her. Looking deeply concerned of the sudden display of that her flesh peels and pain that must be in.
"It is like dropping your kids off to day-care for their first day." She snorts in not letting the divine wounds on her soul and body be a hinder of her personality. Omens narrows perplexed of that being her choose of words, "When you know a soul system pathing like the back of your hand. You grow use to the patterns. Heavenly spirits loose soul density to float among. They grow enough desire to sink down among again and they drop one way or another eventually in loosing some heavenly energies. As heavenly energy is designed to spread down like roots. Using angelic public souls like him to bring it to those that need it." She gentle wafted a pane of Sigil in using a travellers walking guide to explain and explore heaven worlds in a vague diagram showing her simplicity, "Well the grossly simplified exaggeration of the heaven system is that way. There is nesh bits that differs worlds, realms and universe parallel."
He closed the system pane down and gave her an elbow nudge. The tube that pulls up it not the living world one. In walking towards into the artwork, the time glitch stabilized. It is an public sigil area of heavenly realm crossings. The doors hissed of 'air' pressure and clicked liquid like folding metal doors. This was more a living creature then a machine or made by hand craft. An example of how heaven version of life's way is a copy human made technology to make convenience for gods themselves.
It is just a normal tube train to the god avatar, Omens moves inside the train itself, as slowly there is a segregation of ranking in the trains internal 'seating' plans. Omens having a higher status is heading forwards, stepping through the flesh slides between cart seating plan parts. To a point he stopped sheltering her, as there was a point where that would harm his image and matters of laws. On the outward appearance, she seems to meant to go lower back. Yet she also knows wherever part of this 'bullet train cart' system she stands, it will be Curiosity's ranking too. She rolls her shoulders and improvements her appearance by small means, like posture and control of her emotions.
She holds Curiosity close at her chest and soon follows some after Omens. She knows she will not end up where Omens goes, but she will achieve a very important role ranking. She even knows insider information which is to stay after the end of a tube line track at set platforms. She began the dancing of crossing junctions, taking upper ranker shortcuts that are staff or maintenance worker entry and taking newest colour coded train lines that were the bypasses of dangerous realm crossings.
Uniquely London is the only place she knows that has map diagrams painted accurately on every station main gate and stairwell walkways. Looking like a clean string of tangling coloured lines. 'The Underground' may not be heaven in the sky and nor will it physically take her to the higher heaven realms that only gods and pure souls go. But she knows the exact paths Clothus created to shortcut themselves into god domains; slightly lower gods homes and urban angelic cities. She very much knows of undertakers crests of heaven creatures as their signature - thus there will be grey walkways for a wingless girl to lift from. The higher she will achieve, the better starting climb it is for his soul to seed in the 'Eden garden'.
From the tabs of several guide books from those she gained from other universes to the subject of angelic orders in the undertaker handbook. Angels are as many sub species as their are demons. Match to match, culture to culture. Some are non humans with human qualities or godly knowledge. Most active among humans that might be human souls that obtained wings. Then there are the deathly dangerous that only exist in the heavenly realms they are cultivated from - eating outsiders and controlling the divine energy pathing. The longer the concept of afterlife is, the more realms and paths there is reaching higher and higher. To the point of glass ceiling hit with being celestial star beings that live in outer space (and really exists as aliens in her assumptions).
As the limits is only the soul - for an ex-undertaker with a bad past titles, which is no different to herself, there is a soul sorting system the higher the heavenly realms reach.
Only really to herself, she has come to realize the soul; material, density, conductivity and relativity to mediums of realms is universal laws even in heaven. As it is for the lowest parts of hell. According to primal gods, for a soul to touch the lowest hell and climb the hardest ways up to Celestial is the only way for a true soul to prove itself for righteous godhood. Arguably she has achieved this on other universes, but being a native soul means the medium to realm relativity plays into why she isn't some great concept goddess here. And that Curiosity is actually the biggest candidate into gaining demigod status or similar. He was a seedy undertakers spy for awhile to many dark kingdom grounds of undertakers (undertaker realms can between any afterlife based realms - even in the lowest parts of hell).
Needless to say she did become lost in the network. The tube wall of spiralling colours changed many a crossing. She became part of the hidden lost crowd of this underground world. A fleeting fluttering soul among other fluttering passer by and visitors. She did achieve plant not only him but many jars of souls into bare fields across heavenly gardens. Some of the souls she released were a bad idea, but she doesn't care to clean the mistakes up. In fact, the mistakes are a gift to the god eaters and other boundary type monsters can enjoy hunting. The disruption will only be a good outcome for a place that is chaos sugared up as order.
She was no different to a passing stranger throwing a wildlife seed bomb planter into a hedge line. She achieved even some much deserved close universe tomes being gifted the grants needed to let them be released from her private library. Everything she does isn't a waste or without being the aide to some other soul. Selfless and yielding good deeds that perished all the remaining confused bodies she may held left behind.
Just another urban folk tale 'grey woman' in an empty train cart going no where. Her bandaged blood clouted wounds scar up with nasty edges. Her lost wings that been granted off to another returned to her as bone fragments. A part slowly mummy meat at a time pulling flesh. Feather sprouted with enough core bone and main nerve core returns. She wasn't having all of her wings back, she paid the cost of being a goddess in other books after all. Even then, each of these were just more history proven that her soul's long journey has been a long awaited hassle for its place in 'heaven'. She long past the questioning, seeking and assumptions. She just lets whatever is, be. A feather at a time; a soul part of her at a time.
"Elephant & Castle tube station, get off here to reach the High crown court." She looked about her body, look of crowds around her. She sort of just felt it in her, she was going this way. The more modern make part of the human living world underground tube station is still as white titles, labyrinthic one side walk ways and endless trafficking people.
She is her true hybrid being, in all her not human pallor. Light hunter gatherer equipment made of unknown monster parts. Wearing grey lace over her lacking face (a hole of where one should be). The threading parts of her clothing is more like hidden body limbs inactive use. A glance would dismiss her for a middle aged woman with gothic wedding dress style. Part corpse even with the hole in her lower torso that you see through. Make you wonder how she was staying up right, given she has not a lower back vertebra. This her unfiltered true soul, in real breathing material and existing in some era of human time that doesn't think that she was out of place. It will had to be years after a cure to the plague was found, long after the robot wars and other space race cog events that shaped humanity.
She softly debated where next at stepping upwards on the street level to the crown courts. Only for her loyal beings to lay down the red carpet, make her wear a some woven shul and have gave her the best entertainment seat granted to a visitor of a court gallery. Given this wasn't just any court but a place that corporate global companies have fist cusses with the United Kingdom's government. This was a private VIP hidden seat one those hide view windows. She is provided a quick decanter of a tonic, a carved drinking glass from her crystal collection and a unknown metal tray of hand made baked goodies. They bow and left her to recline.
She slides to a stack of the document copies of the matters. She reads all this interesting information, seeing between lines and the taste of greed. In soul languages, sees highlights of good and bad words in among vague values. She counted the two measures and watched the case playing out on the stage beyond the glass way. By a third file, she has a way of guessing a verdict due to the good and bad words. It prove to be so on spot true that it was unbroken for 39 cases. It was the last file on the last pile that shows a potential where she can't always assume.
"I wish to challenge the way you seem how anything works!" She smirks seeing the youth fledging with barely a lump on his back to suggest he has wings yet. The cold threat in how he conducts passionate argument. Fighting a court full of empty vessel of totem poles. She was so emotional about his outburst that she had caused the outcome of energy to be flickered dangerously different. It was the different needed that Omens gave his knowing gaze across at her spot. Omens took no second of a doubt to shelter the fledgling.
"You dare to take risk with a untreated sprout." the ageless unchanged guardians that aren't alert of her interest that already changed the court outcome.
"It was not this one but someone else that broke something significantly fundamental." Omen's warning the lot of them, "You invited the abyss here." Omens lowered and quickly to mark safety. Very soft in trying to make sure this soul isn't about to suffer. He knows the outcomes.
"Ragnar!" She snaps fingers and the poacher froze on his spot from the spear he was about to let lose, "Is this why you asked me if Omen's was on my list?" She leaved the curtain veil room and climb brokenly over surfaces. A cursed being that doesn't move with natural born graces. it actual screams against the way born grace predators are in heaven. Being a supernatural in a natural world. Ragnar in hunter gear, shivers and lowered his weapon down.
"But... I was paid." he protested, "His not meant to be here."
"Silly boy." She makes it to level ground level, and towered over the average as she is. Her floaty like limb captures around Ragnar, and treats him like the pet. He was a little against this in the sake of pride, but he did just sort of cave in when food is being spoon fed. He purrs and curled willingly until he made a reminder of himself where this was. He got off, hissed and shot out of the court room. She just chuckles softly in the exit he left.
"Abyssal!" Armed and many are out the woodwork of the courthouse. As it should with all sorts of protective public sector buildings and important gathering places.
"Clauses in paragraph 93. In your law." she commanded and someone finds the needed loophole, "Is ambiguous enough to go both ways." she continues her point, "Omens is the light." She open palms, "I am the shadow." Omens tilts with really checking her out, "Omens wasn't the only guy with attachment to this soul. I hand sliced the very page that that soul name was wrote on. I made it my mission to use him as a marker of tome progress. He has to be fling in all sorts of soul recycling systems to accurately measure the decode soul language matrixing."
The pause here isn't for an allowance of reaction by surrounding but rather for her to shift to a more travel able shape. She cakes up and solidified into her mock monarchy status. All her traces into a neutral undertaker mimic. There is some details that are not miss able - hole in the lower abdomen that goes all the way through and the lacking entire face deal. Her fingers claw nails that shows in her needed gesturing's. Her greetings have never changed - the removed, broken and damaged. The collector of soul fragments. An abyss walker that travels in repairing the curtains as she passes. Merchant of Clothus. Cottage in the time sand dunes.
"The young one is released to the guidance of Omens and Abyss." the gavel throws. The room settles as she gifted this sprout charms and protective measures. In holding omens with his right and her with a left; walking out of the court house gallery. He looked back towards in staring at others whom have yet to find guides of their own. She softly pats his back.
"Fate has sewn them pathways. They will be ok." She tells the young man between, "Don't worry about them for now. You will cross paths again." Omens back hand her shoulder, "The more Important part you need to learn is how to see and carefully understand the outcomes. You need to warn, shelter and sometimes prevent Fate. As some outcomes are better prevented if Omen's can help it." The young face turned now towards the avatar of Omens. A movie elf like features, handsome and not human adapted features and wearing emerald greens.
"We need to worry about your health." Omens feeling the heat burning up through the young sprout. Stopping and feeling his forehead.
"Wings take a lot of energy to grow and a painful process at that." She spoke honest, "You are right. He needs a place of protection, healing and rest." lowering beside and feeling the progress staging his back is in. The wings that are eating away his energy. She avoided hurting him, knowing not to poke the sensitive nerves, "We must reach to his new home. You took him in, so you must shelter him."
Omens is glad she wasn't offering something shady to do. That she was cooperative of his made plans, but it doesn't shake off that could also be a bad measure too. Omen picked up the young child, a small lad that is no bigger then 9. He makes sure that the young man was safe in his grip. Now they run, leaving the high courts fast as possible. Taking a god's domain summon gate. A nearby plate grow into a massive doorway and Omens using his soul's command trusted that both of them will pass. Right before he crossed the gateway, she sunk into Omen's shadow - into the storage pocket of the avatar's personal inventory. Storing herself as an Object. This kept the gate price low and even less side effect of her abyss aura changing the gates outcome. Leaving a time zone for another.
Omen's carries up to the over ground surface. Time has shifted, this is London before London was a settlement at all. In face, the river Thames is a barely a brook. There is nothing but endless land around them and not a sight of humanity anywhere.
This was after ice age... a place without the granger it will be. A forest clearing beside a grassland. A bason being hunter by a big tooth cat. A grey skinny rat in the pine tree is having a panic attack, watching the brown fur mammoth that it breaking down another forest tree... a lighter orange smaller mammoth is now happy in reaching the green food. There is only wildlife, hot weather and not a sense of civilisation in.
"This way." Omen huffed at pointing himself to a very old tree that stands exactly in a location that will be the Shard in the future. He doesn't bother making sure I am there to follow or that I could. He only bothers to say anything because she clings to the darkness. She was forced out to the light of this pre-stone age landscape. Eyeing over all these creatures and a strange deeper moment of what the plant could be saved in her storage. Glittering in her mental world was the urge to collect interesting specimen's and other things that would be rare in the future.
This next gate they are to be crossing is also one made of extreme holy energy; it would never allow anything of hell or negative sin to cross that threshold. It is a gate for a private god home, more exactly it is the driveway into a private estate owned by the host of the title of Omens. The faith that powers Omens isn't build from a single location or one known religious regional ownership. He has many faces and many shapes. I can not use the trick to hid in Omen's shadow to cross this gate. Omen's is even intent on making sure she left behind here - if she was a harm to the sprout.
"Hold on a moment, I think we could make use of the materials in this world. If we leave, we will likely never have a chance to collect these parts ever again." Omen freeze up with a sharp glare at her, "Here I promise I be done." She snaps her fingers and entered a reaper's moment. The grey rat up the tree isn't heaving. The big tooth cat isn't being plastered in blood of a caught prey and the prey is stopped at that freeze of being still last breath. The mammoth child trunk stopped pause in forgoing leaves. The protective mammoth pack statue around the smaller children.
She worked fast, clipping branches that will not be missed. A whole tree was vanished - it been churred from a lightening strike. She collected feathers from every reachable bird from any shadow touched away from light. Collected bones. Herbs. Everything. She took the left over skins that can be used from the corpses of previous hunts of the big cat. She took pods of the many flowers and the seedlings of ancient herbs that will be genetically edited later by humanity. She was pleased with her gathering.
She steps around ahead of the two, and snaps her fingers.
"We should head home together." Her voice made Omens shiver and stare confused how she was behind and now ahead to fast, "I have not stolen everything." Omens looked at how dirty she is now. Clearly she had plenty of time enjoying her gathering. Muddy sleeves, a dulled knife still in her right hand and clothing torn up in snagged ways. A basket with a towel over the top is full of fruits and veg that she managed. He walked ahead through into the tree gateway and she follows softly.
She became of flesh, warm and true. She drew in a breath and felt the air medium of the world. She is met with a body she had assumed long lost a long time ago. Although, she should have suspected that her not human lives wouldn't play human laws.
"Leana?" Omens voiced wary in hearing her body creaking and lungs filling alive. Looking back as she was given way, her legs dropped across. That basket barely held together, a single fruit rolled out and stops short of Omen's foot. She looked sickly from her freshly remaking. Shivering from not having a lot of energy left over from event.
"It is quiet alright." A fellow patron of the same myths steps from the side, "We all knew when you go fetch your favourite one, you would manage to unwittingly bring back a primordial." Scooped off the floor, another collected the basket and a third taking the fruit that rolled away. They all share a long staring tension.
"They need each other." Pulling the fledgling that suffers in heat into a soft hold with the cold reborn. Helping to lay the two onto warm prepared sheets.