Fall the 71st, 520 AV
Adeliz’ only forays into making herself useful to the settlement hadn’t gone well so far. Any time she was left alone, which was often, she played that day over and over and over again in her mind. The long trek through the jungle that felt like it was pointless. Pointless until she had finally come across the girl in disbelief that a tourist could have survived the dangers that long. The long trek back, attempting to navigate the maze of the jungle, and Adeliz overdue but brilliant plan to fund their way back. The hope as they began to near the sea. And then, the attack. Adeliz had never been so scared in her life or in her death, but she had vanquished. Then, the homestretch. An exhausted soul limping an unfamiliar body that wasn’t hers along and the terror of the soul traveling alongside her. Terror building, mounting. Then numbness. So close and yet so far. Emerging on to the beach. Alone. All of it for what? For nothing, it seemed.
In order to distract herself from the memory, Adeliz had set her mind to something else. Today, that something else was a living woman, Tazrae if Adeliz recalled their brief introduction correctly. Things had seemed set against them ever meeting properly. On their first encounter, there had been the water woman. She hadn’t attacked Adeliz, but she had made it clear the ghost wasn’t welcome. Adeliz wished the sea would just take her back. Adeliz had met the living woman again, but it had ben at a large party and hadn’t been the time for getting to know her well. So thus far, all Adeliz had was a name and an occupation.
Tazrae the Innkeeper.
All it took was watching the woman for a week to tell there was so much more to her than that. As an innkeeper, she was responsible for the contentedness and well-being of s many, but while this would be a chore for many, Tazrae seemed to thrive on it. There was something to her, something Adeliz couldn’t quite put her finger on, something that she was too detached from life to recognize.
Warmth. The woman exuded it. Having been detached from her living body for nearly four seasons now, Adeliz felt nothing. Her existence was cold. It seemed to be the only thing she physically experienced, perhaps only because cold was the absence of warmth. For that reason, Adeliz found herself drawn to Tazrae. She was magnetic, beautiful, warm, and full of life.
Life. That was another thing Adeliz had noticed. Unlike herself, Tazrae had taken readily to being marked by Kihala. While Adeliz had retreated into herself and sought to rid herself of the mark, Tazrae had helped to maintain the shrine that had been built to honor the Goddess of Life. Several times since Adeliz had begun watching her, Tazrae had been at the Shrine, removing weeds from the flower beds and planting new ones as she saw fit. Today, Tazrae was there again.
Today, her work was proving a little more difficult, because someone else had tried to do the same thing a few days before. The other person had meant well. Their heart had been in the right place, but they hadn’t known what they were doing. They saw weeds and recognized them for what they were and had tried to pull them, to weed the garden so its planted flowers could thrive, but they didn’t know enough about the weeds. They had pulled at them but had only managed to pluck the tops, leaving the thick roots still present beneath the soil. Tazrae was trying to find these roots beneath the blanket of flowers.
It was slow going, so Adeliz thought she would try to help. This was a place where she could have uninterrupted conversation with the woman, and introducing herself by being a help couldn’t hurt. First, she watched Tazrae work, watched how the other woman found and identified the plants, watched how she worked around the root to pull it up. Once she was certain she knew what she was doing, Adeliz went to a different part of the flower bed and went to work.
When she found the evidence of a root (a thick, fibrous, green bit barely emerged from the soil), she took one hand and projected mist into the narrowest portion she could. Satisfied with it, she slid it down alongside the root, then pushed outward to shove the root in one direction and the earth in another. It took three to five of these projections to break each root free from the soul around it which meant an already slow process was ever slower for her. Still, time and time again, she drove her mist-projected hand into the soil and pressed apart, creating a wedge. When she had cleared a small patched, she collected the weed remnants together and brought them over, presenting them to Tazrae in a projected fist. As Adeliz held them out, she realized she was completely unmaterialized and that Tazrae would have no clue why the roots were hovering in front of her.
Materialization was not a smooth process for Adeliz. She rarely had any control of what body part showed up when unless she was really concentrating on it. The first thing that sparked into being was her outstretched left hand with Kihala’s mark on its wrist, then part of her midriff, then her face. Other parts continued to show up as she talked.
“Hello, Tazrae. I see you work and think I help. This is what I get so far. We meet with the pieces of statues, remember? Then again at party. We not talk much though.”
Gesturing at her mark, she pointed to Tazrae’s wrist where she had seen a matching one. “I see you have smudge, too.” Smudge was the closest word she could come up with to mark, and it had become her preferred curse word for it. “What is it?”