Caught

Tamela stirred as the first hints of twilight painted the sky with dusky hues. The weight of her secrets clung to her like a heavy blanket, making her dreams uneasy and confusing. Once awake, the weight of her unanswered questions bore down on her like a relentless storm.

She sighed and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Until she had a plan of action she might as well continue her duties as a Shinigami. That anchor might offer some semblance of control.

With the city of Centropolis transitioning from the energy of day into night, Tamela prepared for her nightly duties.

First, she lit a few candles strategically placed around her room. Lit by their soft, flickering glow, she offered prayers to her ancestors and asked for their guidance. This was a ritual she performed every day, but it was particularly important this evening.

Then she meditated to focus her thoughts and emotions. Otherwise, she would distress her clients rather than ease their journey.

Finally, she dressed in her usual attire—dark, flowing garments that concealed her figure and blended into the shadows.

Tamela left her room and descended the grand staircase, the polished marble steps cold underfoot. At the front door, she pulled on her footwear--soft low boots that made no sound to announce her passage.

As she made her way through the shadowed alleys, Tamela's thoughts were consumed by the enigma of her mother's identity and the possibility of newfound abilities. She tested her wings, wondering if they could lift her skyward but threw that thought aside. That was just too much.

Reaching a crossroads at the heart of the city, Tamela paused at one quiet corner. Though most of the occupants slumbered, the sounds of raucous partying called to her from several directions. She ignored them and refocused on her work.

With a flick of her wrist and whispered incantations, she conjured a swirling orb of darkness that hung before her. It pulsed with an otherworldly energy, casting eerie shadows on the cobblestone street. It bobbed once and floated down the center of the road to the left.

Following the orb, she arrived at the site of her next "client." A middle-aged woman, disheveled and confused, wanded back and forth in front of an apartment building. The woman's eyes held a vacant look as she muttered to herself, seemingly unaware of her own demise. 

Tamela approached the woman slowly, her voice a soothing balm. "Hello, there," she began, her tone carrying a whisper of compassion. "You may not realize it, but you've passed on. I'm here to help you find your way to the next phase of existence."

The woman focused on her. "Where am I?" she stammered, her voice trembling.

Tamela sighed, her wings rustling softly as she spoke. "You've passed on, but don't be afraid. I'm here to guide you to the next phase of your journey."

The woman blinked and jerked her head. Fear and disbelief warred in her eyes as she stammered, "I... I can't be...dead. This isn't right."

Tamela nodded understandingly. "It's a lot to take in, I know. But I promise you, I'm here to guide you. There's another place waiting for you, and I can help you get there."

The woman's eyes widened, and her gaze darted around as if hoping to find a way back to the world she knew. "I can't be dead. This can't be real."

Tamela offered a sympathetic smile, her pale blonde hair cascading like a waterfall. "I know it's difficult to accept, but I promise, I'll do my best to make this transition as smooth as possible for you."

As the woman's fear slowly gave way to acceptance. Tamela extended her hand and a shimmering portal materialized beside her. It glowed with an ethereal light, its edges pulsating like a heartbeat. She motioned toward it. "Step through this portal," Tamela urged. "It will lead you to where you need to go."

The woman hesitated. The corner of Tamela's mouth quirked upward and she held out her hand. "It's okay, I'll take you through."

Clinging to it tightly, the woman let herself be led through.

Darkness greeted Tamela on the other side. It was all she ever saw, the few times she had passed through. However, her companion squealed, then laughed and let go. Her client's reactions varied, but it was obvious they experienced something very different from herself. 

She turned back to the portal. From this side, it was a featureless oval of swirling yellow light.

As the portal closed behind her, Tamela let out a sigh of relief, grateful that she had been able to help another soul find its way. But then, she heard a gasp, and her heart skipped a beat. She had forgotten to erect the spell that shielded her from mortal eyes.

Tamela turned to see a handsome man staring at her, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He looked about her own age, maybe a year or two older, his messy hair falling into his hazel eyes. His gaze was locked on the fading remnants of the portal, a mix of wonder and terror etched on his face. Then his gaze locked with hers.

Tamela's heart raced as she realized the gravity of the situation. Mortals were never meant to witness the work of a Shinigami, and her duty required her to erase any memory of what had just transpired. But as she stepped towards the man, a myriad of emotions surged within her—fear, curiosity, and deep empathy. Was it really her place to tamper with a mortal's mind?