Page 7 of Incarnate

My eyes are open for so long they start to burn from drying. “I—do I, what?”

“You get one in Pantheon Realms, but we can put an extra shot in ours,” Margaret jokes. “I know you like them.”

My mouth wordlessly moves, not sure what to make of that statement. “I just learned I died, Margaret.”

She raises a manicured finger. “Technically, best time for a drink,” she says with a dark laugh. “But it did help? Do you feel as disassociated?”

“It’s… further away now,” I listlessly reply, rubbing my eye.

“Good, and it will continue in that direction. They are all gone, and you will forget them very soon.”

I glare at Margaret, tucking hair behind my ears. “I will forget them? Entirely?”

“It’s how it works here. It is messy. Who wants to remember having five husbands?”

Point taken. I glance back at the woman sitting in front of me who is back to reading, and then at my docent, that odd calm returning to me⁠—

“Oh, that’s odd,” the woman says, pointing at something with her finger. “Something happened when you were about to reincarnate. You weren’t supposed to come here, and yet you did—perhaps an interception, or… your perceived Devotion to another god wasn’t as strong as initially felt.”

“Where is that at?” Margaret asks, an intensity coming over her as she rounds the desk.

“I don’t blame you for this one. You see this line here?” The woman goes on to explain something to Margaret, and I’m starting to get the idea that my docent is possibly new at her job. “Anyway, it is good that you caught that something was wrong. We need the Quartus for this one, and it will be resolved. Go fetch him, Margaret,” she orders.

“Are you sure?” Margaret asks, pure shock across her exquisite face, slicing at my resolve.

Seriously, what’s wrong with my soul? “Maybe I am meant for elsewhere,” I suggest, clearing my throat.

“Oh, you are definitely meant for the Underworld. This red asterisk shows that you were requested personally by someone, which means you committed such an act that the Seraphs were notified and marked you down. But the reasoning is completely blank.”

“Wait, what!” I nearly look at her book again. Her stony glare holds me in my place.

“It never says. Only the Primus Mortem knows. The Quartus might though. Let’s start with him.” She closes the book.

Margaret disappears almost just as quickly, in what I assume is to fetch this fancy important man, and I stare at the woman, my eyes gyrating as I’m not sure what to say. “Well… what’s your name?”

“Sylvania.”

I stare blankly at her before my gaze slowly drifts to the candles on the walls. “There’s no technology?” I ask, the realization dawning on me.

“No. We operate through what humans call magic. Here? In these Realms? We call it sorcery. Everyone of every religion can understand that. Margaret will go over all the rules with you over the next month.”

The idea of being stuck here for a month is mind-boggling. Where do I live? Will I get hungry? Do I have to get a job or something? I can’t imagine being a psychologist to a demon. “What creatures exist, by the way? Who, or what, will I have to interact with? Like vampires?” I ask, my voice a little high-pitched.

Sylvania looks like she can’t decide if she is entertained by this or annoyed. “Vlad the Impaler was one, Countess Elizabeth Bathery… it goes on. Many people in history have been, as they love hunting humans on Earth. The blood is very different, like the way wine is. We have done a good job of recovering when one enters the Earth Realm. But don’t worry, the areas for a novus are strictly monitored and very safe. For your purposes, you are to know that you will most likely become rather insignificant in this society. It’s a part of your natural order. You live low, and gradually move up, or move on. That’s where the danger exists, but by then, you’re on your own.”

I finally nod my head, an empty expression on my face taking over as I try to contemplate everything. The only thing that comes out is, “Werewolves? Gnomes? Fairies?”

Sylvania takes in a deep breath and sighs. “Fairies are Pagan and tend to reside in their Realms, but some fairies live here. Ours are a bit more vicious.”

“You know, there’s a suspicious coincidence that I seem to know of all the creatures here, as if I’m conjuring it up.” I point out.

“It is actually backward. A lot of souls are reincarnated souls. They have seen these beings before and therefore remember bits and pieces of them. Everything is connected, Penelope. Do you think we look alike? You’ve never seen something like me before… and yet I exist. Now if you were to reincarnate, you might remember something of me, but you may just focus on the color red.”

Fuck, I thought that was a solid theory, but hers is just as good.

Okay… so what if this is truly real? Maybe I should take advantage of whatever spell is on me that makes me quite numb to it all, so I can make sure I don’t miss any details.

“I’m just… I’m struggling to believe this,” I say, looking at my younger hands. They feel real. They have the details my dreams never do—the hairs, the lines on my knuckles, my nails that are not perfect. I never could remember noticing such details in a dream. “But I also don’t think I would have survived that fall…”