Within Veiled Boundaries: Shroud Over Their Eyes.

"Alexander!"

The wispy clouded layer of clothy patterns was a sculpture images of human shape towering over her. A white pearlescent beaded face mask of some vague face features glares sinister, looking down at her as she was some unpleasant bug to be squished. That last call of their name undoes that mockery for a more formal solidified shaping. As if shadow from nearby trees had become a solid mass. The spirit shadows fold into itself, then released a living human.

He wasn't scary enough for a little girl like her. She had seen too many dead people in that form. Although her mom doesn't know why, the Seer family can turn into such spirit forms. As long as they have the training behind it. So this guy was family from the father she had never met before. It's debatable of how they are related, like in term of generation or branch concentrations of blood abilities. It's all the sort of things the little girl heard demons be mad about, those that made unwelcoming bargains with clever Seer folks.

The demons and undertakers call these humans - 'Tricksters'. Living scheming humans that don't know what they are getting into while interacting with the afterlife. Seers use such abilities to access dead people's bank accounts or to make themselves recognized on people's death wills. The Seer folks have a bad reputation for keeping tomes, using soul names when they shouldn't be. The Seer and the Fallown have never gotten along. Their view of the afterlife is unfiltered. They way they go about interacting with the afterlife while in life is what differs them. Fallown have no reputation among the afterlife because they stay away from such a business. The fallown side only use their seeing or hearing with careful use. Avoiding being known among even the afterlife folks. Undertakers find them unnerving, but this gery ground has been fine for either side.

Making for this arrangement happening here at Grandpa's weird. Just what exactly were these people wanting with the fallown?That is unless this was do with imp potatoe day where there were undertakers seated on the sofa.

"You don't even look that bothered that I just appeared or that I wasn't human a moment ago." This Alexander opens the door for the girl, but she looks to mom first. Mom waved that it was OK to leave the car, "If I was going to steal you away, I would have tried so already."

The little girl has nothing to say to the stranger named Alexander. He was just a typical human, someone with plans behind fake expression of kindness. The face they wear isn't what they feel. She saw this and can tell when even if someone was smiling... that they can smile in pain. This man seemed slipy or greasy. He had that smile of hate, even as she closed the door behind without his help. The track suit was the top shop brand and the white new trainers. He didn't belong to this backwater.

"Enough of that!" The woman shouted his name and gave a smack of his arm, "I will not have you ruin things because you can't be nice to the daughter." The two go into a bickering mutter match. Following right behind her mother.

"Brother." Hugging him as she sees him and gladly accepts his tight hold. He forced to peel her away and took her to while no one looked. He checked for anyone who was overhearing. He still doesn't say anything, once that. He lowered with posing for her to keep silent. Handing her not only a letter. A book and a strange gem carved pen. He shows her how to hide them, using something she learned on accident but never uses, which is her shadow is a storage space.

He nods, being glad she received these things. She frowns at not being able to read the letter now. She puts it away, too, since he knows that she can't. He softly takes her hand and to the toilet. He brought out a very pretty black laced ribbon dress. It fits her for now.

Instead of stretching a small mass of her shadow image to eat small objects. They can lift the whole shadow image and stretch it out for bigger objects. He moved a large ornate wood inlay chest box of such dress wear to her shadow. Once more demonstrated that even large furniture items can disappear in such manners. Pats her shoulder and left her to change into the dress alone. She, of course, wasn't going to miss this chance to shower.

She cleans up very nicely from motel germs and puts this now uncomfortable dress. She can't help but consider something wrong about the fabric used. She smartly wears something underneath to stop irritating her skin. When she was brushing her hair alone, the bathroom door partly opened. She glares regardless of whom it might be. She stood and opened in, seeing it was the doll in the wood case. No one visible was there. She accepts this doll as her friend, at least. Bringing it in with her and going to close the door. Barely a inch to close and some spirit walked through the wood into the bathroom. Or rather, he fell into the room. She avoided being brought with. She closed the door quickly. She holds the case doll close. She cringed in barely recognize him as that didn't look comfortable. He doesn't look right. She looks at the doll with worry. She makes sure that the door is properly closed. She makes the doll gaurd the door and, with a lot of effort, pulls him to sit on the floor. He wasn't right at all. Head on backwards, and his right arm is all twisting in bad ways. She studied the strange string threads that glow, colours, and weaves of patterns. This glowing string was cut or broken where his arm was. With a little play of tugging thread, she worked out that these undertakers aren't human. They are clay bodies controlled by glowing energy threads. She detangles the thread for his arm. She threads it out of him and then back where it should be while also forcing back his clay joints in a correct manner. He isn't at all responsive if that was painful or not. She frowns very worried while she helps him.

She doesn't dare play with neck threads... the neck in car crashes tend to be what kills anyone. To many drama hospital shows have taught her that some injuries are left to professional experts. She does with the little strength she can, push the head from the way it was to untwist it. Following the fold direction of the way the thread is tangled. She worried this twist back head thing would prevent him breathing if spirits could breathe. Maybe the equivalent of? She doesn't have this luxury to think about this. Once he faced forward, she waved at his face. Nope.

She looks to the wood case doll. The wood case was opened, and the doll itself was a little mom with a baby in a basket at her back. The doll nods in agreement that she did a good thing. It looked at the door and quickly back into the case, closing the door of the case. She also panicked about what anyone would say about this undertaker being here. She looks around for a way to hide him. She couldn't move him fast... so she does the thing she just learned. She lifted her shadow into a cloth material, and she put him under it. She puts away, and at a best guess, he was now where her shadow keeps stuff at. The bathroom handle was turning, and she let the shadow fluff back as the image it should be. She quickly moved the doll and its case from falling. She hold it close to her with barely a hamd on the hair brush the was using. She sighed glad it was just mom. Mom says something behind her and enters. closes the door behind her. Began helping her daughter brushing hair.

"Is everything OK here?" Her mom trying to see what her duaghter will tell her.

"My freind is sort of alive. She very nice to me. Helped with my dress." Which was true, the doll was just a focus to look at. But there is a presence of someone stood behind, helping tie ribbon and adjust the lengths. She could not just put this dress on alone without help. She needed extra eyes and hands for such thing, "She was given to me back there. The man with feathers in his hair said it was OK." Her mom can't help have a twisting worried expression, "He was a man of the land. Protect the burial rite site."

"He was native American then. He gave you a nice doll. She seems very fragile." A moment to share a look of the doll.

"She reminds me of you. Protecting and teaching." Hugging the box, meaning the doll and the spirit of it, "I like being there. I felt I learned so much in so little. Felt like a wasn't..." She sighed at not finishing this, "They going to take brother away. Are they taking me too?"

"No... they say a raven watching you." Her mom knows that she just told her daughter something very hurtful. Hugging her, "They going to take me too. But you will be staying." That isn't good at all. She will need to convince them to accept her.

"Just because I can't read books, doesn't mean I can't have them." Shuffled feet and mad.

"There isn't any force in this universe that can prevent what is meant to be." Her mom is indeed crying, "You don't understand what he did. You have no power to stop what has been promised." Hugging her daughter into a sob. She doesn't understand because her mom will not explain it. The frustration. The deep under her skin feel of bad crawling. Finishing to make her duaghter look very pretty. Even putting makeup on her. Sob between silence.

"Raised to be slaughtered." She heard from her shadow, and gladly her mom didn't hear that.

"Just what did the pig sale that was mine?" The words sort slipping put of lips before she could even know what she said. The anguish of raising fury over casted what she said. It had her mom caught out of breath, who can't even be mad of her daughters rudenes. It takes a lot of effort to final take the words.

"Your biological father has took you name from the books of living and death. He put them on a parchment. He gave it away. I know you understand souls and when they are wrote."

"Is that even possible?" The man in her shadow hissed and she had to make it like it was her. Gladly her mom isn't looking at moving lips. To drippy eye to focus much at all. The dismay. The disbelief. The despair.

"I am a cat in a box." Was the next thing that sort of lingered in her mind rasp of tobmany questions. To many strange things and just what will do with her soul name. Will it be of her freewill to do?

The door knocked in a pattern. Her mom hugs her daughter strong and shivering. Her mom forced herself in leaves frist, putting on a pearlescent gleaming mask of no face features. She can barely walk, her father having to stop her from fainting.

"I am afraid of what will happen." telling her own reflection in whispers and in turn she was telling the guy in her shadow pocket. Hugging the doll, "I just hope I have the courage to be my best version of myself. Life. Death. There seems a patterns in how things work. I need to keep hoping these things will always be. Even if they don't look like it." The strong spirit holds her shoulder the box disappeared from her arms. Whatever prayer it was, will be her last.

She walks feeling sick. That her tummy was burning like before. Like she can feel her inside there. She holds it in trying to stop the pain. She doesn't look around at people, mostly noticed their feet as she walks past. She braved it to the living room. A last little deep breath and she looks at these folks in the eyes. She dots about their shape, clothing and skin. She looks at them deep into the eyes, past the clay faces and sinks deeply past even that. She finds only voids of something off inside these hollow illusion shells. They all wrong inside them shells. The way flowing energy works in them was wrongs. She looks finally to a man with a book in his hands. He is human. He wears mask of clay pearlescent but the expression was boredom. He doesn't even look at her. He doesn't look like he cares about his actions at all.

"This thing?" One the hollow folks hissed and that they babble between themselves with gestures. She can tell this was some sort of sing language for these spirit folks. The shoulder jiggle like laughing but one. The one guy is looking at her with stiff. Vibration maybe, beyond pissed.

"It must be." The man yonds, "You want a way to access this book. You need a human living soul with her soul attributes. Our family is soul unique is the only way guarantee what contract." He watched a page flicker itself but he forced it back watching this particular page.

"Take the book from him." She held a sharp deep rooted pain that burns. Liquid flames into chest. She was instantly on the floor, "Take it!" She could stop her body as she forced back to stand. Her right hand on her stomach. A half weak sweep with her left hand. Her hand went through this book in that humans hands. He spat at her. Laughed at such a weak attempt.

'I don't want to do this. I don't want that book. I want the pain to stop.' She thought deep. But the more she was ignorant of 'coping' with this flames inside her. Her body acting of its own according. She waved through the book, but this was on purpose. As she wasn't taking the book but she was breaking the bracelet on his arm. He doesn't care for the cord of this bracelet breaking. Her little fingers manages to loop the broken bracelet around her, the flame of pain soothes. Her big Brian thoughts were right. She has some self control with this charm. She must act compelled to taking the book still. So she now used her right hand, it was darted so fast that this man didn't lock grip fast enough from it taken from her.

"Very good. Now I don't need to care about using you folks for my demands." She holds the book close to her and the charm. She was snatched by back of her neck and dragged through into a dark place. In this dark place, she refused to let got. She scrunched tight using her body to protect this book. If this book is like those others ones. She doesn't want it used. She heard broken words in poor manners. She couldn't breath. She came to term that she isn't breathing at all. Yet in sheer habit, she continues trying breath. She does so in pattern. She never skips a moment of just having all she got.