25 A darkened fog

"The last of the docket before we conclude the final vote. There are no more tricks to slip, no more lies pulled over and there are no more folks we can call to stand this trail. We have exhausted our patience and all these loose ends both sides have pointed the direction to. We have sent many a court hunter and huntress to seek this rogue of Trickster. We find that we are unable to summon or bring forward the last and only witness because of confidentiality." The seeker posed, "And you can't complain that we couldn't try other roots. As we had already the last few of the Fallon bloodlines that can attend come to stand already. To the unhealthy extremes, we have prevented them from home and now when they return, they will live shorter lives. All because of this court." The seeker turns to them, "So in apology, we of the court will grant them an allowance to live out those last days comfortably. The members left behind will be compensated. What human courts will do from there is out of our hands."

The soft grin of some living Tricksters seeing that they are going to win parental guidance over Lea when it comes to human courts. The afterlife spirit Seers frown, the school's reputation and the other grandchild have already made them lose favour with the human court. The sinking sand under all their feet. They have fallen on their own. Members across the room became aware of the sin and guilt, and this was the last straw. The last weight to sink them under to hell. Fall on their own. There is no better way for this court to close a case. Spirit court is a special type of court, where even the gallows of visitors sink or swim.

"We only have long enough to say goodbye." Lea's mother crumbles to her partner's side and he has a dry throat throats from the arguing.

"My other daughter will be able to help and Lea will help her." He holds tight as they are sent back. Back at the hospital, they were found in a massive crash. Waking from comas to make last messages, last signing of some documents layouts by angels. No tricks, this was the only thing the spirit courts can give. Divine time bending in replacing the time stolen from them, within the time they lived in.

Meanwhile, Lea was all packed. All her homework was already finished and handed in earlier since she not attending those classes. She changed into simple black clothes, she already read the letters and her reptiles confirmed things. Due to her myth ranking, she never attended the high-profile court case that took her family's life. It seems grandmother attended the least amount but she was unfit to even look after herself. Her grandfather already had his funeral and her aunt became estranged after that. Her brother is still stolen among the Seer folks. He isn't of legal age to take her in. She did get a letter from him, he was being house arrested and taught everything from the Seers. He isn't going to force Lea among these terrible people was his promise. He has a few of her reptiles on his side, he may not know it or he will realize it's her protecting him later in life.

Lastly was this handwritten card, her step-sister in England. She was asking if Lea wanted to go to them. Lea has already called the number and spoken. The card is lovely with her sister's family posed at some theme park, they aren't rich but they make it by well enough. Also, it's England, the school there would be different and difficult. Yet there is progress at least, not left stagnate in one school year repeating which was what this boarding school offered if she doesn't go to England.

"Hello?" Her door is knocked on. The same tone overall and yet they know was playful.

"Enter." She puts personal things into a neat sorted file system and put them into her backpack.

Her shadow is full of family heirlooms that could be stolen or sold off. Her aunt had put both grandparents' houses on market and cleaned them out. Nothing was saved, so her mask took the trip to steal out the rubbish bins. The only things that weren't are her aunt's inheritances and some that should have been Lea's mom. All the voodoo was thrown away, with total disregard for value or use. Unless it was scrap metal, even then it was lumped together and assumed rusty. Lea saved the family's war blades and the undertaker's uniforms. The war stuff her brother wants. All the coins that have been assumed without sell value, are split between her and her brother. She managed to save plenty for her brother to inheritance, which wasn't human value. The only thing to prove she had done this... was a metal mask. It was a cursed mask, which has now been infused with her real clay one. It completed what chunks and chips she lost of her spirit body. It rounded off her missing spirit body parts.

"It's almost time to go." Leaving at dusk, just as she arrived here at dawn. Three bags full.

"Will I be escorted?" She asks.

"Not by living." She gently nods and pushed her suitcase to shadow. She has only her backpack, "Neat. So much easier." The undertaker steps around and lowered to eye level, she has been sitting at her desk. There used to be pictures hung where she looking, her mind's eye can still see them and she was in deep thought. Eyes so far away. The undertaker tilts as she takes a breath in, she makes some expressions of staring at the undertaker. She tilts as he does. He finally smiles.

"Being reborn so many times but you have changed." She shares the smirk.

"Plenty of things had changed but who I am inside has never. I was too stubborn to never forget who I am." She frowns in sorrow, "You just don't know how much had changed in the distance between us."

"You always had a gaping hole through the torso." She nods at that.

"You're a terrible butcher." She pats down his hat into his eyes. He stands up adjusted the hat correctly and she gets up.

"We are going to church." He takes the hat off and flattens his long pink straight hair. Hat seated in a very exact pose to half hide his face in shade. His uniform today was a black-dyed British trench and the left arm has patches. He has a few medals along the breast pocket, displaying his high status among undertakers. The official left hand of the British War courts. the UK was its standing kingdom that was neither the American or European branches.

"You should say that I must wear my full uniform." She rolls her eyes and stands in the closet, peering at the mirror reflection. She has her shadow trying to fit different parts of many uniforms. In the end, claws came through and a whole lot of fabric was made into patchwork. Then it was restyled into the signature bride's dress. Only her spirit form was wearing it, her human side was just wearing a neater funeral dress. Her hairstyle adds a face-covering veil, it was a gift for her accomplished work as a grim reaper. The cloth was a fraction of the true death's clothes. It had very disconcerting effects in trying to peer at her face. Given to very few bookkeepers, a show of those that can handle and have taken steps in mending difficult or broken souls. The last touch was that a scale of twilight is as a pendant along her neck, a thick glittering galaxy-looking stone that swirls in motion within itself.

"Much better Duchess." He bows.

"Princess." She shrugs and he laughed nervously, "But I get it." She pulled her trusted weapon of choice. A scythe was made from the discarded claw of the largest creature in her care. There hung a broken link of chains that held little carved charms of other favourite creatures. The stem stick part is a bone of a rib from a dream worm - her only spoil of that war she kept. The living veils had to make it real, turning the surface of the weapon to have an oil-slick sheen, appearing as solid Damascus steel. A soft move of the weapon rattled metal echoed in strange directions. Not directly sourced from her weapon.

"I missed having you around, Riddle." She stated when he opened the door, "I will always forgive you from this moment on. No matter what happens." She walks into the dorm corridor, confused waking students looking out, and flees back in.

She looks back watching this undertaker's actions, she should have expected him to avoid her shadow or that he would be making questions. He should be asking questions or worrying about revenge. He's not the one for the face value of small words. He's not the one.

She waved a casting to make doors unlock and open. She smiles to herself impressed that it works. Still, this guy isn't right, he should have questioned her casting. Another point was that he was embarrassed and looked away while she was finishing up her clothes, back when they were in her room. The undertaker she knew stares and would have asked about scars. She knew the real one asked about health. Would ask about where her swords were.

They get to the courtyard of the school, the last chance. She climbs up to the tree, and back to it. She sees he didn't even come near, afraid to follow her.

"Rid of the imposter." She commands a tap to the tree. The not branches shot his way and were strung up among other corpses. She kneels to the tree roots, her creepy scythe of claw and bone held close to her chest. Reclines with laying to the tree stump. Disappointed for sure.

"When they said that all the court hunters failed to return from fetching a little girl, I wondered what sort of joke or guardian was protecting her." She sees that the undertaker hung up isn't done, willing to wound himself further to leave, "And who knows that you were searching for someone particularly." They landed hard and struggled, "Now I know. I can report it." She tilts at how he crossed a salt line and that he began to lose limbs. He could speak in the last parts, coat and fake medals rusted into black sand where ashes of an undertaker laid.

"Beloved one... go to the corner building. They wait." The tree brushed her shoulder, "I promise to stay guard." She pets the tree while standing up. She lowered to where the undertaker's corpse is, like all veils she knew - pulls away a curtain. She snatched his collar. She drags him with her, with inhuman strength or a human drags a ghost. Crossing into the graveyard and the man was awake, a flighty response to scrabble against her. She doesn't care. Into the church annexe, a space for all faiths. Automatic glass doors. The older students in sigil groups, taking part in combat training freeze in shock at her. She throws this man at the feet of the teachers.

"So it is true, there is a creepy creature in little girl form." She blocked thrown weapons with the scythe side. She refused all duels, in one gesture. Only humans can approach with now there being alignment judging field around her. That spirit will be weighed by chains and unable to cross a void between her and them. There are expectations for that.

"Your majesty, I take you as no fool to send folks that don't know me. You of all folks know." He throws down a glove for a duel, "You know I don't budge until we have conclusive terms. I don't like killing folks and I don't want to be killed. The veil was earned to me for this reason, trusted by the many gods who crossed my travels." She glares in waiting for him now to speak.

"I wish that our partners duel." She makes her left and poses in concern, "My blade balanced against yours." She scratched not being sure that worked.

"I will have to decline. This isn't a metal scythe from a forger nor was it made of metal from gods. Its appearance is only this way due to the living lands." She frowns further, "The individual parts don't share alignment nor do they judge on the same fields. The staff itself is soulless. The blade is a claw." She had to use her left hand for a moment to wave a dream person off her. She had made her mask glare down at the dream approaching her.

"That's fine. The fact you can see the dream walkers is plenty." The glove returned, "Tricky, just how far did a small chip of soul travel?" He was suddenly friendly and sees her face value. This may be because time hasn't changed much since her last encounter with him. Acting humanly to cater to not scare her in the past. She does appreciate the effort, even now when it doesn't need to be.

"It doesn't matter. It was nothing more than a great Oddesy." She stares outwards to no one and nothing, simply the way veils can ripple and pattern. She noted the dark hour with a watch and stares back at nothing. Ignoring the monarch and his many trusts around him. The tree-wise and not ignorant of status, allowed the monarch to sit close at the base stone rim.

"You have in many ways changed but you are still the cautious girl as before." She heard from the monarch, "I had my original Shade sent to the under turn." The dirty side of the undertaker realms. The main hallways are clean because of the many that work underneath. The sinner side undertaker works the upside-down of the portraits, their rooms the back side of the oil canvas. Those with good faces, well-placed manners and pleasant personalities have higher noble ranks on the oil painting side. The qualifying hides the shadows.

"For a man that has severed more Monarchs than humanity has reverted. Sending him to the background out of sight might just be an undoing. That I'd unless this was working in both your favours while hashing down critics of your courts." She made such a snap tilt to the monarch, "It explains plenty." She softly poses back to staring onwards, "But given the crime. Not only is he placed the under turn. You will have had him in a dirty job that would allow him anywhere or free roaming. To that point, he will have made plans and left anytime he could have wanted." She lifted her head softly in looking up, "He will have waited for a sort of sign before making moves."

"I do wonder if you still have a part of his soul." The monarch was caught off guard and using his proper way of speaking, "He is revolting."

"Wouldn't expect anything less than bloodshed. He was going to break the limits. He truly loves the smell of death and blood." She tilted, "A freak no less."

"Ignoring so many things. I wanted to know how did you get back here. Truly. You were dead." She shook at this.

"Then he didn't tell you the story." She lowers the scythe slightly acting like she was getting tired, but her feet dug in ready to jump away. She sighs gently, a medication before the attack. She tenses for the moment, her mind slowing events of what will happen. Which guard first and to what extent why are they doing these actions? She has to die for a living world cause, so they had to affect and plan something to kill her. She has even concluded the tree is bargaining with the monarch. She already has the scythe prime pose in removing the slayer core from the mock tree. She was faster and much stronger than her living body gave for, the soul gemstone drops to her shadow. A husk of what was a tree began to fall. She is out of the way but the undertakers that went for her are pinned. Leaving only her and the monarch, no one else dared intervene for now.

"I don't need to die to cross over." She stands onto the fallen tree, "This living world isn't clueless of concepts." She hops down with space between her and them, "Don't you know?" She lowered her left hand and grabs up a parallel of herself, "The darkness within is no different to face in the light." It takes her body in a hazed black fog and she steps out in the spirit form. As a living spirit, she has no access to her shadow. She must carry what she needs. This is the form living souls with a coma body take. This is more advanced as this is more like she is in such deep grief she will have lost her voice and care to recall the time. Her living body goes back to her dorm room until it was time to leave with real humans.

"This works as a compromise." The monarch speaks monotone and he has no interest in playing kindly towards her.

"My nickname is a warning label, a Tricky Trickster. Sadly in the time, my soul was shattered, many had stolen that nickname and have made it a problem. I assume you wish me accounted for a lot of things. You don't want to because getting to this point was work enough. Getting a portion of my soul among the living at least, surviving past a mature enough age. Even then, you don't think I am mature enough. But your chains are locked, you don't have enough to waste things."

The monarch waved his doorway to the realms open and he goes into it first. She doesn't stand around waiting, going through the murky wet feeling and the nagging feelings of her past recalled in the echo of the watery waves. Breaching to the other side, a soft breath of taking in air as a habit.