Page 8 of Incarnate

“The problem now is you died as Penelope Morris, and you claim to be only Penelope, and can apparently use sorcery, and that your soul should have been elsewhere. I know it seems minimal, but it really never happens that you forget your last name, or that your first name feels distant to you. It’s one of the few things that imprint deeply on a soul, to help ground your identity in this world.”

Silence sits between them as Sylvania goes through other papers and I just stare at my knees, trying desperately to remember my life. The more I attempt to produce something, the more of it I lose.

“Here is the Quartus, Syl,” Margaret says, and I glance up at a man with the same red eyes, a hooked nose, and thin lips. His skin is gray, ridged horns growing out of his head and curving over his skull. He motions for me to stand, which I do. His scrutinous gaze takes me in like I’m recently acquired cattle with a surprise injury. He raises an aged hand, touching the center of my chest. “She is not corrupted, but something is wrong with her soul. It is mixed with another… no, not mixed, sectioned. A majority of her soul is locked away… if I cannot unlock this, we will have to consult with Ogark.” He grabs my face and turns it side to side to get a better look at me, forcefully. His hands are hot, and he smells like wet sand. The sclera of his eyes remind me of dense smoke.

He releases my face and with the same hand, touches my chest once more as the tingling sensation takes over until everything goes black. Just as quickly as it goes dark, the light is returning in my eyes, and I’m now sitting in one of Sylvania’s chairs.

Attempting to focus is impossible, my mind groggy once more, my eyes lazily trying to focus. This Primus guy is sitting in another chair, hands interlinked, forefingers sticking out and both touching his nose. His eyes are completely fixed and staring at the floor.

“I could see a little of her previous lives, but to get to her eternal soul, it is pure white. Something powerful is in effect with this woman. The question now is do we bother Dominus…” The women both drop their jaws. “But then I answer it with knowing he must not be disturbed unless it is of absolute importance. We should monitor her first few months here, then reassess,” the Primus says and looks back at me with an irritated expression. “Nothing about her felt significant, just different.”

“What about an infiltration? She could be sent by the Godless, sir,” Margaret suggests.

It’s my turn for my jaw to drop, feeling betrayed at such a suggestion, my head lobbing around as I try to steady myself. But the male speaks before I can.

“If it were that, then the power would be stronger and unhinged, as their world is rampant. Whatever power I sense in Penelope is too weak to do real damage and has too much order to be of their bastardization. My honest assumption is that Penelope potentially angered a witch before her death, and her soul has been cursed.” He says that so flippantly, and I feel like that’s anything but flippant.

My hand shoots in the air like I want to object, but all I can do is close my eyes and shake my head. It’s so hard to focus!

“You are sure, sir?” Sylvania asks.

“Quite. It was prudent to show her to me. It is important to know, to keep track,” he says as he stands, giving me a condescending stare.

“So I am cursed?” I slur out.

“Possibly,” Margaret says with a shrug.

I glare at her, nearly panting with how much effort it’s taking to regain myself. “Well, what do we do about that?” My voice is high pitched.

She throws me a pitiful look. “Not much, Penelope. At least, I’ll keep an eye on you, and we’ll learn if it is, or not.” She glances at Sylvania, who nods approvingly. “Well, let’s get going, then. We have to make an offering to Kallúm for you to begin your process here.”

P E N E L O P E

A metal cage descends on a chain, and a slender male with smoothed back maroon hair exits and nods to us. Margaret steps on the steel platform as I follow, my bodily function finally returning to me. Cages on either side descend or rise in a symphony of chains churning. “You know, on Earth, I do remember that we had elevators,” I say, thankful I can finally speak again. “And we didn’t have witches who curse your soul before you even got here.”

Margaret pulls on a cord seven times before the door shuts and the cage lurches to take us up. “Electricity is very fickle in the Underworld. It doesn’t flow like it does on Earth, sort of akin to how magic is nearly impossible to use there.”

It’s almost pissing me off that she has such good reasons. A hallucination would have produced a glaring error by now, at least I think it would.

With a higher vantage point comes the clarity on how many humans there are, a plethora of docents intermingling. It’s almost bureaucratic, and some part of my curiosity gains teeth rather than fight it any longer. “Why does this all seem to be about humans coming here, not other creatures? Where’s the werewolf in a brown bag?”

“Human devotion fuels these worlds, and it’s been that way since anyone can remember. Now, if you ever want this to be your true home, you can evolve. Let’s just say into a dragon, for example. Then you’ll see humans as a necessary part of how this machine works, and realize why they get the docents and excess adjustment periods.”

My brows raise. “I can become a dragon?”

“Not for a very long time, Penelope. Let’s first focus on getting you to Devotion so we can get you changed.”

I stare once more at the painting of the Dominus of this Realm, of his pale complexion and the blackness of his eyes that accentuate the golden irises. He’s so severe looking, like he might truly be of nobility. “Alright, then explain what this Devotion is all about, then.”

“Reverence keeps this Realm strong. The more you devote, the more innate protection you will have here. Some humans don’t even go back to Earth, choosing to enter their immortal cycle here, desiring eternalization.”

I frown, touching the iron bar that I know is cold, but I don’t feel it. “Eternalized?”

“Our Dominus selects those who have shown loyalty to him and soul progression, and then he eternalizes them, removing them from the reincarnation cycle. It is at that point that humans are able to harness power and can evolve into many varieties of creatures here, even a kappa, or werewolves, as you mentioned.”

Okay, if I’m honest with myself for a moment… How interesting is all of this? It makes it almost fun to be dead, and the thread to my mortal life becomes exceptionally longer.

“So, is that what you did? How did you become whatever it is that you and all the other docents are?”