Life is Finite (PAFP)

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    In this world death wasn’t the same as it was in others. To put it simply everything could live forever if undisturbed. Animals only died if hunted, humans only died if killed. Sickness was the second biggest killer in the world.
    But it took fewer lives every year then the Morte took in a day.


    Morte were essentially angels of death, grim reapers, whatever you wanted to call them. They were created by a higher being that none knew beyond the Morte. Their only knowledge was to follow orders, like machines.
    And like machines Morte were soulless.


    Only beings with a soul had free will, the ability to think on their own. The ability to feel pain and the ability to think and make decisions. All humans and animals had souls, no matter what stories may say. It was impossible for a human to be born without a soul; if they ever had then they were dead. They’d never had consciousness and the Morte took them away as soon as possible.
    Without a soul it was impossible to be counted as human, or anything like it. Beings without souls imply followed orders and never made mention of it.
    They were like machines, ones who did nothing that could be considered sidetracking.


    While it was impossible to be born without a soul if human it was possible to give a soulless being, like a Morte, a soul. It was ill advised though, as a being made to kill it wouldn’t do well for them to have emotions like regret or guilt.


    But machines could be flawed. If something went wrong, someone refusing to give up their life like is intended, then the Morte essentially shut down. They didn’t know what to do when someone went against their code.
    But a being with a soul could think beyond that, if something went against what should happen they simply adapted, changed their strategy.


    The first Morte to have a soul ha gotten too close to humans and refused to do its duty. It was put down immediately.
    The second, however, was brought up the same way as any other Morte, had been taught to fight off emotions and only do what was needed.
    This one got a name, Irko.


    The thing about Morte is that they never looked human, not completely. They had a human shape, sure but they also looked like animals. Some had dog-ears that stood too high, a muzzle of a cat, a humanized rat body.
    Irko had feathers. His hair, long and silver down to the mid back, was dotted with bright feathers. They were practically just other pieces of hair to him.
    The feathers also dotted his body, though were usually hidden by clothing. They lay up his arms and down his legs, they dotted all over.


    People had begun to realize what the silver feathers meant. They often fell from the Morte’s hair and people learnt that that meant the Morte was in their home town/city/village.
    The feathers fell and people were scared.



    Missions were simple, given a list of who’s life was finished and he took a small group to deal with it. Irko rarely did anything himself, he was only there to make sure the rest didn’t falter from some unseen problem.
    Like today, a man had refused to just let them do their job, so with a flick of his wrist Irko set the man ablaze.
    Magic as much simpler then brute force to him.


    On the return journey silver feathers fluttered behind them as they walked. It wasn’t an uncommon sight; people simply knew to keep away now.


    The tall cliffs that wall parallel to them were hardly worth a thought, until a sight caught the violet-eyed Morte. The second he stopped so did the rest behind him. He was allowed to do what he wished as long as he completed his task.
    With a wave of his hand he signaled the others to continue home as he walked from the path.


    In a small dug out side of the cliff a human lay with a hand pressed to their side. They were injured.
    With silent steps the tall creature only stopped when in front of the bleeding human. They’d completed the list so no human should be left to take, but this one was sure to die if nothing happened.


    Crouching down to their level, a few feathers fluttering around them, Irko only faintly noticed their glare.
    “You do not seem in the best health. Would you like some help?” They knew who he was, that look proved it.




    ((Ahhhhh, sorry for the length. Do not track to not reply.
    You can just jump in, with whatever kind of character you want, friend!
    I’m happy to answer any questions you may have! I hope you have fun!))

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]When death usually only took two forms, life became boring. No one ever really stopped the Morte, so there was no sense in trying to put off any death that might come from them. And sickness was not really a problem—not at her age, at least. She was still young, still healthy. It was boring. She had adapted to this before, of course; it just took a bit of imagination, but she could certainly still have fun. Yet her usual options had no been open on this day. Her friends were all too busy. There were organized hunts going on, but those were no fun to her mind: they were too tame, too predictable. So she had gone to the cliffs.


    This has been a regular game with her for years: she would see how high she could get on the cliff face before she had to return to the bottom. She had never made it to the top, which provided an ongoing challenge, and there was always the threat of a fall, which generally served to give her a thrill and keep the boredom away. There had been falls in the past, of course, but they had usually been short falls, with little more than a few scrapes and bruises to show for it. This fall had been different. She had fallen from higher on the cliff face—from a part that she hadn't even been worried about, really—and the fall's consequences had been more severe than she had experienced before. For almost the first time in her young life, she found herself in quite a lot of pain.


    Getting out of the open had been the first priority. The girl—Katherine, as she was called—had managed to drag herself into a shallow cave (more of a hole, really) in the side of the cliff, where she lay against the wall and tried not to scream. If the pain was anything to go by, she had broken several ribs and one of her legs, and had a sizable gash in her side that was likely going to be serious, especially since she couldn't get back to the town like this. She had been trying to stop the bleeding as well as she could when someone crouched down in front of her. A few silver feathers drifted down, and for a moment her breath caught in her throat. A Morte. In an attempt at strength, she glared up at the creature, even as it offered help; she had never seen them do anything other than end lives.


    "Why should I trust you to help?" she asked, trying to move a little further back, a little further away. "All you do is kill."

    Humans confused him on a high level. They did things that’d easily bring them harm, or death, but still they did it. They also found trouble in trust. Irko supposed it came from the fact they had souls, beings with souls seemed to fins it difficult to trust each other. Sometimes he wondered what humans would be like without souls.


    Humming gently he tiled his head to look at her wound. He wasn’t keen on blood. Just the way it stuck made him feel horrible. He liked his hair and since there was a lot of it there was always trouble getting stuff out of it. But this person was in deathly danger so he wasn’t too keen on putting his hair before a life.
    Morte weren’t cruel creatures. They were never made to be. They collected people who had surpassed their age limit. The other Morte were nothing then pretty dolls, dolls who followed orders and nothing more.


    “Really there is no reason,” he returned, “you are right not to trust a creature who takes the lives of those too old.” Despite his words he still continued to examine her wound. “We do not kill, not in a cruel sense. Human’s can only have so many resources.” He glanced at her, his head tilted in the same way a child might.
    Irko wasn’t the most masculine thing, he was a pretty little bird after all, but his almost feminine features stood out so much against pale skin.


    He cared little for her protest he used a hand to pluck her hand away from the wound. There was no way she’d be able to win against him in a fight if that’s what she tried. “How terrible, such a bad wound for such a small human.”
    If Irko were anyone else he may have sounded taunting but with the way his eyes held nothing it was hard to believe he even had the capabilities to do that. He hated the way the blood was smearing on his hands.


    Plucking a silver feather from his hair he held it in his palm for a moment. After only a second the feather was alight, burning as a bright flame curled in his palm. Only beings with souls could conjure up magic.
    Any human could do it with some training.


    “If I may ask,” his eyes only flicked form the dancing flame in his hand briefly, “how did you come to be the wearer of such a wound.” As quick as it’d come the flame was once again gone as he quickly curled his hand into a fist. Fire didn’t hurt; in fact, it felt very nice on his palm.
    Once again he screwed up his nose as the blood dripped to the ground. Reopening his palm a blue feather fell from where the silver one had been burned. Humming again he pressed a hand to the wound.


    The fire had been replaced by a light, one that healed rather then hurt. Sure offense was something he was trained in but it was always handy to know the basics of healing as well.
    “I find it odd, here you are bleeding to death yet you were not on my list… Which means you’re not supposed to die. What would have happened if I hadn’t come?” It seemed more like the question was to him then her.
    It wasn’t a small wound, so it didn’t close right away the same way a cut might. “I also noticed that humans have an odd want and need to help each other, sympathy and empathy…”

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]Although he moved her hand gently enough, Katherine could tell in a moment that there wasn't much use in fighting him. He seemed...not really kind, but not cruel, either. Neutral, perhaps. A little cold, but probably not intentionally. His words skipped about, jumping a bit from topic to topic, but she only heard some of them; a good bit of her energy was concentrated on staying still and reasonably quiet, and trying to ignore the pain as much as possible. The magic helped with this, of course. Katherine's village contained very few people who knew any magic, much less were willing to use it, and the sight of someone who could was both fascinating and terrifying.


    Once he has pressed a hand to her side, though, silence descended for a moment, broken only by his quiet words about sympathy and empathy. Katherine took a few seconds to gather her strength, trying to recall the Morte's questions; this seemed like a time to perhaps answer them. "I was climbing the cliff and I fell," she offered by way of explanation for the wound, before moving on to another topic. "I- I'm not sure what would have happened if you hadn't come, though. Maybe I would have been able to stop the bleeding on my own, but would have died in a few days since I can't get back to the village. Or...or maybe I would have died from the bleeding, but you wouldn't know. It would just be a mistake. Those happen in death sometimes, too, don't they?" She offered a thin, hesitant smile, trying to find some sort of common ground with this creature.


    Katherine wasn't really sure what to think about the Morte anymore. She knew what she had been taught, certainly, as well as what she had seen in the town—that these were cold, soulless creatures, who ended lives as they were told and did nothing more. But that did not make sense, did not fit with what she saw before he now. "You talk about sympathy and empathy as though you don't have any," she mused, green eyes fixed on his face. "But you are healing me. It doesn't make sense." For that matter, neither did the magic—she thought that she'd been told before that a soul was needed for magic—but she wasn't sure enough in that to speak up about it. She could be wrong, after all, and then would feel ridiculous and rather embarrassed. Searching for something else to say, though, she stumbled upon another question: "How did you find me?"

    Irko was certain this girl was still in pain. The way she kept still showed that enough, he wondered faintly how much pain such a wound inflicted. He’d never been more then grazed or cut so he really didn’t know. Another thing he didn’t know was how well a wound such as this would heal with his magic. Irko primarily used offensive magic so something like this was something knew.
    Not that he’d ever say such a thing aloud, that’d bring unneeded panic to her. Irko may not have ben exceptionally well versed in humans but he knew enough to know that was a bad idea.


    Did many people where she was from know such things? Magic didn’t seem to be in abundance as it had once been. Many seemed scared to use such a thing. To have a fire in his hand was almost comforting, something that showed he still had his soul and all that came with it.
    Maybe humans were more scared of themselves then he thought. Indeed the ability for one man to burn an entire village was scary but the things people could do with it surely outweighed the dangers.


    Glancing back at her when she spoke the Morte listened, never once speaking put of turn. Cliffs were indeed dangerous places to be, things fell from high and it wasn’t hard to fall when placed at the top of them. It wasn’t a surprise to find someone at the bottom injured. But most people who were at the top had equipment in case they did fall, limiting the damage.
    This girl seemed to be without any help.


    “My apologies, that does not sound very good. That kind of fall does bring great pain.” With a small flick of his head the feathers fell again, sometimes it was just a pain being able to feel the loose ones about to fall out. Irko was certain there’d be a small pile of feathers by the time he was done here, something he wasn’t exactly keen about.


    Humming lightly, showing that he was indeed listening and thinking about her words, the Morte split his attention between her and the slowly closing wound under his hand. He didn’t like the way it felt, blood and all.
    “Indeed, you may have, but I’d like to think someone else may have come for you. Negative thoughts lead to negative thoughts.”


    Mistakes? He didn’t think there’d ever been such a mistake, death was something handled very carefully, he doubted that there’d ever be such a mistake. But she was right, things did make mistakes, the Morte were a good example. They couldn’t do much beyond their programming.
    “You may be right, though I’ve never heard of a mistake. But things do happen.” He wasn’t sure how to return the smile so he offered a small one in reply before dropping his attention to the closing wound.


    It was close, now it looked like a bad cut rather then a gash. That word wasn’t nice to the ears, Irko thoughts. Gash sounded so horrible.
    Again he tilted his head at her, hand moving away slightly as the wound closed itself up. “In a way I do not. I was raised like any other Morte, to do my job. Emotions get in the way, so I’m told. I could possibly feel such things but I am not meant to.”


    Should he be telling her such things? He wasn’t sure. But he was certain that the wound was healed. Pulling his hand away the light faded away and he looked at it once more. “That’s better.” He offered, he was careful not to get the blood on his hair, he didn’t want that.


    “Very simply,” he answered, looking to her from his hair, “I was on my way home with the others before you caught my eye. Nothing more or less I’m afraid.”

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]She remained still and quiet as he healed her side, listening to what he had to say. Even when he had finished, though, she remained where she was; it may have seemed rude at first, but although her side had been healed, her leg and a few of her ribs were broken, and movement hurt. Despite this, she managed a slight smile and a quiet, "Thank you," determined not to show the pain she was still in. There were a few reasons for this, she supposed. First off, she didn't want to seem ungrateful for what the Morte had done for her by immediately talking about her other injuries. She didn't want to seem like she was asking for more help, either—especially since she didn't know why she was being helped in the first place. How could she know whether this creature had any ulterior motives? What if it wanted something in return?


    If she was honest with herself, she didn't want to do much more than curl up and cry for a while. Even if her side was healed, her ribs ensured that every breath was painful, and her leg sent pain shooting up her spine when she tried to move. Still, determined to carry on the conversation, she offered a response. "I- I don't know about any mistakes in death, either. But...I do think that if you weren't here, I might not be found. I- I mean..." Katherine trailed off for a few moments, closing her eyes. "They probably wouldn't miss me for a while, since they're all busy and would just think that I was somewhere else. And even if they noticed I was missing, no one knows that I come here." Another small forced smile, tense and weary.


    There was very little to say about the rest of what he had said. How he had found her did not need to be remarked on further. His comment about emotions was interesting, but for the moment she rather wanted to simply ponder it instead of talking about it. It went against what she knew again, and that was interesting. It deserves some good thought—especially since the Morte was probably more trustworthy in this case than what she had been taught in the past. This meant, though, that she couldn't say anything about it at the moment. So instead she tried something different, wondering a little about what his reaction might be. "You have beautiful hair," was the remark she made, gazing up at him. "I've never seen anything like it." Her own hair was long and red, and was bound back in a thick braid—pretty, certainly, but she thought his was more interesting. It wasn't a deep topic, certainly, but it was a distraction, and that was what she needed at the moment.

    Careful with his bloodied hand he plucked another loose feather from his head, simply dropping it. While the wound had healed she didn’t seem keen on moving, most people who were healed tended to want to move, to get the feeling back that they’d lost with injury.
    Irko knew it could be considered rude by humans to pry into their business. Did that count with injuries too? He wasn’t sure, stuff like that was always quite odd to him.
    Well, humans in general were very odd.


    Again his head tilted from side to side, as if he were trying to figure something out whilst looking at her. Her thanks made him have a confused face, some of the most emotion he’d showed so far. A thanks? Why?
    “I do not understand. Why are you thanking me? Is it not simply something that should be done because it is right? Thank yous are unneeded in such a situation, yes?” Humans had an odd way of interacting with each other.


    While his hair fell over a shoulder again he made sure to move his hands from where the tips barely reached. She seemed pained, he could tell that much. But would it be wrong to ask if she needed more assistance? Surely if she needed it she’d ask, right?
    With his cleaner hand he gently brushed his fingers through his hair, grateful when there were no red stains.


    “I find it best to assume death knows what it is and who should join it.” Again his head tilted ever so slightly. Truly like a child or even a dog, maybe a bird. A bird would make the most sense given the feathers, but who knows?
    Her expression showed different emotions then her words, a conflicting message. Why do such a thing? If someone feels something why not simply show that you are in pain or upset?


    “Such negativity.” He told her, violet eyes flicking over her again, “I assure you, for every person there are at least two people who worry. No matter what I assure you somebody would notice.” Negativity breeds negativity, being negative doesn’t seem to help most of the time.
    Though Irko really wouldn’t know, would he? He wasn’t sure what a negative emotion truly felt like.


    Again he was confused, why was she speaking about his hair? With a gentle hum he let his fingers continue to run through the feathered hair. “I thank you, I suppose it is the one luxury I am allowed. I’m sure they’d have cut any others short, I’m glad they didn’t…” Again he hummed lightly, turning his gaze to her.
    “You’re hair is exceptionally lovely.”

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]Katherine smiled just a little at his confusion about her thanks. It was a genuine smile this time, not one forced for his benefit. The confusion was rather endearing in a way - it made the Morte, whoever he was, seem a little more human and a little less like a soulless machine. Still, she attempted an explanation, knowing how frustrating it could be sometimes to be confused. "Just because something is right doesn't mean that people will do it," was how she started, although she wasn't quite sure of her own words. "And even if people would be willing to do the right thing, they don't always have the ability to. I- I don't know anyone how would have been able to heal my side like that - no one other than you, I mean - so even if someone else had come along and found me, they would have done their best to help me but wouldn't have been able to do as much as you did." The more she said, the more it felt as though she was getting this explanation all wrong, which in turn made her unsure of how to continue. Did she try to keep explaining, or simply leave it at that? "I- I guess that even if it was just the right thing to do, it was still something that I am grateful for. So I was thanking you." There - that seemed alright.


    His words about hair - both his and hers - only confused her, though. What was he saying about only being allowed one luxury? Was that was his world was like? It would certainly explain why he seemed so concerned about it, she supposed - for she had noticed the way he kept running his hands through the silver locks, shaking out the loose feathers and making sure (she suspected) that there was no blood in it. What was this about her hair, though? She had never thought of it as all that extraordinary; most of her family's hair had been red, and there were a few other people in the town with hair of the same color. Still, perhaps things were different for him. So, managing to remember her politeness, Katherine offered another soft "Thank you" in response to the compliment.


    There was something else bothering her, though, something which she had only realized a few moments ago. This she spoke up about, asking, "Do you have a name? I- I suppose if you'd rather not tell me, you don't have to, but...I'd like to know. Mine is Katherine." She wasn't sure whether her name would mean anything to the Morte - perhaps they didn't have names, or perhaps they did but didn't care much for human names. This in turn raised another question - how did the Morte perceive humans, anyway? - but for the moment she stayed silent on this question. The names were enough, and it would probably be best if she could avoid flooding him with questions.


    What she couldn't help, though, was the sneeze. Though the ground was hard, there was a bit of dust, and although she had tried to keep from sneezing, she could not do so forever. Katherine sneezed twice, which jolted her ribs, sending pain arcing through her body. She gritted her teeth and managed to keep any possible noise contained, but knew despite this that it might have become quite obvious that she was hurt beyond the healed gash in her side.

    For reasons he could not think of the smile she showed him this time seemed more full o f life ands light. More real. He truly wasn’t sure why, smiles of falsehood he’d only experienced when people were fearful. People who didn’t want their names to be on the list, the same people who’d cry and beg if approached.
    But smiles were hardly a way to judge someone, right? They could be false no matter how much effort was put into them.
    In a way it was worrying how easily humans could lie and how willing they were to do it.


    Giving her a look that was probably similar to confusion as she explained things Irko wasn’t sure why people would be cruel. People wont always do what’s right, people would consciously leave a dying human when they knew that their help could prolong a life.
    Humans were pretty horrible sometimes.
    Though was he one to talk? He was a Morte; his entire existence was true because he took people’s lives. The only reason he was alive was because of that. Was he not as bad if not worse then the people who hurt or the people that left?


    Figuring things such as right and wrong were difficult, especially when he was trained to suppress such things.


    “I think I understand, at least on the surface.” Nodding slowly he looked back to her. Her explanation made sense; beings with souls were like that, complex. Maybe there’d be a time when he could find this sort of stuff out for himself, without having people cower at the mere sight of a feather.
    For a moment he hesitated. “Thank you… For explaining such a thing to me.”


    Again he tilted his head, fingers tangled in silver locks. The way he did it could almost be compared to an owl, tilted and watching. Maybe he was nothing more then a bird of prey on the outside, just a human looking disguise.
    “Again, no need for thanks. Your hair is nice, very lovely in colour I must say.” His gaze fluttered from her face to her hair as if to prove his point.


    Katherine. Maybe a bit of a simple name, compared to some of the ones he’d seen before, but a lovely name nonetheless. He’d never spoken to a Katherine, indeed he knew some had been on the lists prior but he’d never been on those jobs.
    “I do not mind, speaking my name will do little more then tell you who I am, besides, you’ve given me yours, best to return the favour, yes?”


    Smiling slightly Irko tilted his head once more, a bad habit really, as his fingers plucked at some feathers. “My name is Irko, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Katherine.” Pulling his hand from his hair he gave a small bow, in the same manner he did for his master.
    “You have quite a lovely name, Katherine.”


    Pulling back he gave her an odd look at her sneeze. The way he looked at her showed he knew more then he should. “You are indeed still in pain. Why not simply ask for assistance, I am happy to help.”
    Leaning back down to her he looked her over once more. “Where are you pained, Katherine?”


    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]"My leg is hurt," she said quietly, "and so are my ribs." Since Irko seemed to have realized that she was still hurt, there was no point in trying to hide it any longer. She had done fairly well in concealing them this long; hopefully Irko would be alright with the fact that she was still hurt and hadn't told him until he had asked. Naturally, she had her reasons for this - the real question was whether those reason would be ones that he could understand. He had seemed to grasp that humans didn't always do the right thing, so perhaps it would not be too great of a leap for him to understand pride and fear and everything else that had gone into her decision to try and conceal her injuries. Then again, perhaps that would be too much.


    Irko was an oddity, as far as Katherine could tell. At times he had seemed almost human, perhaps a little strange and a little confused, but still very near to what she knew. Yet...she had seen him before, when he had come to the town to claim lives, and he had seemed so different then. She didn't understand it, didn't know how he could be the way he was.


    Trying to break the silence, Katherine spoke. "It is a pleasure to meet you, as well. And...I should apologize, Irko, for trying to hide my other injuries from you instead of asking for help." Here was where it got hard - did she leave it at that? Or would it be better to try and explain herself? Perhaps an explanation would be best, but she didn't know what he knew about humans. Telling him what he already knew would only give off the impression that she didn't think he knew anything about them at all. There was no good way through this, really. Yet onward she went, determined to at least try and explain herself. "Part of it was just pride, I guess. I- I don't like admitting that I need someone else's help." That in itself was hard enough for her to say; Katherine didn't much like owning up to her own faults.


    What came next wasn't any easier, though. "I- I think maybe the other part is that I don't know you, and I don't know much about what the Morte do beyond ending people's lives, but I do know humans, and humans usually want something in return for helping, especially if they've already done something and are being asked to do more. I didn't know if it was the same way for you, and I didn't want to be rude by asking directly about it, so it felt like I couldn't ask for more help...because if you did end up wanting something in return, I don't really have anything to give." Katherine bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. She didn't want to look up at him, didn't want to see his reaction to what she had said.

    Blinking slowly the Morte nodded, kneeling back down next to her. A bad leg wouldn’t do well, who knows what kind of things lurk around at night? This area was still relatively unknown to him, so he was at a loss for an answer to that one.
    Tilting his head the Morte leaned a bit closer, gently placing a hand back to her side, careful not to press to hard whilst trying to find where the main injury was.


    He’d never dealt with a broken bone before; he wasn’t too sure how magic was supposed to help them. He knew disease and such could be cured with magic over the body, would the same work for bones? If he muttered a small incantation with his hands over her would that heal her?
    Irko didn’t think that was the correct way to think of things.
    But he did have an idea now that he thought about it a bit harder.


    Bone injuries were something different, unusual to him. Indeed he’d seen Morte with broken bones but most of the time they were put down before they even had a chance to recover. It made sense; most of them were animal like, which meant some would never recover from such an injury.
    Were his bones as fragile as a birds?
    A bit of a scary thought actually.


    Plucking a few more feathers from his hair the Morte nodded, giving her a small smile. It felt weird to smile. There was never really a reason to do so before, but he was enjoying his time with her, even though most of it was from her pain.
    “There is no need to apologies, I understand. Or at least I think I do. Humans are still very odd to me.” Once he had a small pile of feathers in his hand her closer his hands around them.
    He wasn’t sure what he was going to do would work but he’d soon see.


    Listening to her speak Irko could feel the fire in his hands, burning the silver feathers.
    “You needn’t explain yourself, Katherine. It is perfectly fine, humans are complex and do things for reasons I’m sure they don’t even fully understand.” Opening his hands the fire was dispelled and only ash lay in his palm.


    Biting his lip he gave her an odd look before e let the ash fall over her leg, it was stupid but he thought it may work. Being as gentle as possible he brought what was left to press it against her side.
    “Apologies for the pain.” He murmured. It probably wasn’t the most pleasant experience.


    “It is understandable to be weary of my kind, I say it’s smart to be.” Beginning to summon the light back to his hands, hopefully the ash of the feathers that should be in his hands now would help with the injuries.
    “Please stop me if there is any pain, Katherine.”

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]Katherine watched and waited, not entirely sure what to expect. It'll had seemed earlier as though he knew what she was doing, and she wanted to believe that he still did, but she really wasn't so sure anymore. How often, after all, did the Morte break bones? She supposed she could have asked the same question in regards to the gash in her side, but that seemed different somehow. Still, what else could she do but trust him? Even if he insisted that people would worry about her, she doubted that they would find her in time. If this didn't work, and he simply left her, she wasn't quite sure that she would survive to be found.


    As she waited, though, the need arose for another distraction. Too much time in silence let the pain begin to fill her mind again, and she was hoping to avoid that. So she began to talk, simply addressing whatever came to mind. "Is all of your magic tied to your feathers like that?" was the first question. "Or is it just healing magic? What makes someone able to do magic, anyway? There are a couple people in the town that can, but most people don't trust them and my parents never let me near them when I was younger, so I don't really know anything about it. Why is it that you think it's smart to be wary of you, though? I mean...from what I've seen, it seems mostly like you just do your jobs and then leave. Nothing's ever been able to stop you, so there's no point in being wary. I- I mean, since there's also the part where you're mostly just following orders, and if it's not a person's time to die they won't, and if it is they will." She knew she was rambling, but it worked as a distraction from both the pain and his gently-probing hands.


    The ashes, she decided, hasn't seemed to do much just yet. Whether this was because he wasn't finished with his magic or simply that it hadn't worked, she wasn't sure, and didn't really want to look ridiculous by asking. So instead she kept watching, hoping that he knew what he was doing. It would be nice to be healed, after all. Even if she wasn't, though...well, she supposed that even this would let them spend a little more time together. Irko didn't seem like the type of person to leave an injured girl alone in the woods.

    This wasn’t working.
    Irko shouldn’t have been surprised; he’d never done this sort of thing for a human before. He couldn’t expect everything to work. When the only test subjects one had were half animal it was hard to determine if it worked for the animal half, the human half or both.
    Sure it helped with training but in a situation like this it did very little.


    Tilting his head at her when she began to speak Irko wasn’t sure if she was serious when asking these questions or simply trying to keep her mind occupied. In case of the former he began to answer, his tone the same as always.
    “Indeed it is, in a way my magic is concentrated through them. If one were to still possess my magic after it had fallen out and I tried to cast a small fire spell someone could be harmed if they picked it up. Thankfully most ignore them or simply sweep them away.”
    It was odd in a way, to think his magic and his feathers were one.


    “Any being with a soul can use magic, Katherine/” With a small smile he dispelled the healing in his hands. “You could if you were taught, any human can because they all have souls.”
    He knew humans were wary but so wary as to keep children away from those who possessed it? He thought that may have been a bit much. “It really isn’t too difficult.”


    Her final question was probably the hardest. Indeed it was true that they didn’t do more then they were supposed to but you should still be wary of danger, right?
    “Humans fear us, so I assumed it was right to be wary. Indeed we’d never seek a human out for any other purpose then our job, but I assumed with that came fear.”


    Tilting his head from side to side like a confused owl Irko wasn’t too certain what to do. Broken bones weren’t something he’d dealt with before, at least not human bones.
    “Apologies, I was wrong in my assumption that would work. With some Morte I managed to heal a bone wound like this, but again they are animal like…” Again his thoughts travelled to his own bones.
    As fragile as a bird? Maybe.


    “Ah…” Plucking out four more feathers, wincing when he forced a none-too-loose one out, he went right back to a healing spell. The feathers glowed in the same manner as his hands before he stopped.
    “I know for a fact these will at least speed up the process. It’s the least I can do. I must apologize again, I wasn’t sure that would work and yet I tried with a failing result.”
    Looking behind him the Morte fluffed up his hair to get it back into shape. Pressing the feathers to her hand he murmured something to himself.


    “I could take you home? So you may rest there instead of in the company of a bird Morte.”

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]As she listened, more questions arose. At first she hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to be asking a bunch of questions when he was busy trying to heal. After all, she didn't know much about magic, but she supposed that it was probably good to not be distracted in the middle of a spell. So she waited, watching as he apologized, as he pulled out more feathers, as he tried again. It was not until he pressed the feathers to her hand that she dared to speak again, addressing his most recent question first. "I- I don't know," she admitted. "I mean...I wouldn't mind going back home, but if anyone saw you bringing me back, I don't know what they would do." She had a few fairly good guess, of course, but she didn't particularly want to elaborate on it. It wouldn't be hard to guess, really—the Morte were distrusted, so it was unlikely that people would trust someone who had been in their company, especially someone who had then come back alive.


    Rather than concentrate on that, she addressed something else he had mentioned. "You...do have a soul, then?" she asked. "Are you the only one, or...do all Morte have souls?" Talk in the village would say that they did not, and she could have believed so when she saw them working—they seemed so cold, so emotionless, like machines simply doing their jobs. Yet the time she had spent with Irko felt a lot like time she had spent with other humans—he was strange in his own ways, but still so similar to a human. Was it because of his soul—and if it was, did that make him the only Morte with one? As she waited for an answer, she carefully closed her hand around the feathers, pulling them a little closer.


    "You don't need to apologize," she said at last. "I mean...I know you've been around humans before, but that's been mostly just as part of your job, hasn't it? I wouldn't expect you to know quite what to do in a situation like this." Katherine offered a faint smile. She wasn't sure how much the feathers would speed up the healing process, but the pain seemed somewhat lessened at the moment. Still, she didn't want to move just yet, didn't want to risk trying too much too quickly. Perhaps they could talk a little while longer.

    What was the feeling he felt? He wasn’t supposed to have feelings but he often felt small twinges of what feelings were. He felt bad, he wanted to help her but he couldn’t. Why did that make him feel like this? It wasn’t sadness but it was certainly a negative emotion.
    He knew what the basic emotions looked and made people act like. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he was feeling. In one way he was glad he could feel something, made him remember he had a soul, but it also made him cautious, if they found d out about this he was surely scrapped or at least retrained.


    Again he tilted his head back and forth like a curious bird. He was still trying to figure out if there was anything more he could do for her. He knew how to ease the pain and help things heal quicker but he wasn’t sure how to fix a bone by magic. It may have been horrible to think but he’d have much preferred it if she had another bleeding wound. At least he knew how to deal with that.


    Humming again, showing that he understood what she meant, Irko brushed his hands through his hair again. “Indeed you’re right. People are not the most welcoming of us, and I’m sure they’d be more on edge to see a wounded human with me…” He didn’t sound worried, but the words and look on his face spoke volumes.
    “But again you cannot just stay here. Unkind things like to pop out.”


    He knew he wouldn’t care whether people saw him or not. They saw him much too often. But he knew it wouldn’t be good to bring a human with him, much less an injured one. What would they do to him then?


    Again his head tilted. “Indeed I do have a soul, I am the only one who currently possess one. The last one to have a soul before me was…ah, put down, so to speak. He allowed his emotions to run wild, so they trained me to not do that.” It was pretty sad, knowing that he was only made as a replacement and that he would be just as easily replaced.
    “Having a soul makes them careless, they say. But it is quite sad; they’ll never know the joy of simple things. Seeing a sunrise or something of the like. They just do as their told, I sometimes wonder if they get lonely, or if they can even feel loneliness. But then again, they’re just dolls, yes?”


    Detangling his fingers from his hair Irko looked away for a moment. “I suppose you are right, though I am still apologetic for not knowing enough to ease the pain more so then that.”
    Settling down Irko looked up. “The sky is nice, yes? Not many people take the chance to appreciate what is above them, or maybe I just see the world in a very dull way. Or maybe I like the sky because I am a bird?”
    Looking to her he smiled slightly. “What is your favourite time of day?”

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]She was getting a little better, she thought, at finding emotion in his face and his words rather than his voice. It was easier to see his concern now than it had been before; it could be that he was showing more emotion, but she wasn't sure of that. Even with the concern present in his face, though, she did not answer his words about staying there. She knew the dangers of staying, of course—she had lived in the town her whole life, and knew what could be found in the forest at night. But they could not go back to the town, not when they would be seen together. A human and a Morte in one another's company? The townspeople wouldn't know what to think— but they wouldn't be pleased, not at all. Most of them wouldn't dare do anything to Irko (he was a Morte, after all, and one who possessed the ability to work magic) but she didn't doubt that they would take it out on her in one form or another.


    Just because she couldn't respond to this, though, didn't mean that she wouldn't answer anything else. "I like the sunsets," she said, offering a faint, tired smile. "That's what I've wanted to do for years, you know...climb to the top of the cliff and see the sunset from there. I'd have to stay up there all night, of course—climbing back down in the dark would be too dangerous—but it would be worth it. And I could watch the stars during the night, then, which would be nice too." Katherine shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment. "I've never made it to the top, though, not at any time of day."


    There was a short silence, as she gathered her thoughts and tried to form them into words. "I'm glad you're not just a doll," she said at last. "I mean...you would be a very pretty doll, and I'm sure you would do your job well...but I like you better with a soul, I think. It's nice to know that you feel something." There was an idea forming in her mind, some way for her to get back into the village without being seen, but she didn't want to mention it just yet. It needed a little more consideration, a little more thought. In the meanwhile, she supposed, there would be time to talk. Perhaps Irko would come up with some sort of plan as well, and then they could compare and see which would work better.

    It was hard to inflect anything into his voice; he’d never really done it before. His voice wasn’t really worth much anyway. Irko knew the other Morte had the ability to speak they just never did, there was never a reason for a puppet to speak. They just did their job then went back to simply being pretty things to look at.
    It scared him in a way. If he’d been given a soul could it be taken away? Could he turn into a hollow doll?


    He understood the dangers of an outside world well enough; the night housed sneaking thieves and dangerous animals. Well, he only knew animals were dangerous based on what humans said, more so hushed whispers. Animals attacked humans sometimes, or humans attacked animals. Never once in his life had the Morte come across an animal that turned to hurt him.
    Some were wary yes but none ever attempted anything against him. Maybe because, in a way, he was an animal to? A bird and all that.


    At her answer Irko nodded, he was more partial to other times but he could agree that the sky took on some truly amazing colours at that time. But he couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked, he supposed injury did that to someone but she just looked so worn out. Personally he’d never been in such a situation but he was certain that’s what was taking its toll.
    Again he couldn’t describe the emotion he felt.


    Looking upwards as she explained her goal he tilted his head. The climb didn’t look to bad. Then again he knew it was harder for a human to climb then a Morte, so maybe e it was bad? She said she’d never made it to the top before so it certainly wasn’t easy.
    “Maybe as a…um, a thank you I could take you up there.” Did he use that correctly? “A thank you for speaking with me like this, in a more…equal manner.” He had never offered anything in thanks so he wasn’t too certain if that’s what he should have said.


    Smiling at her again Irko glanced away for a moment. “As am I, I am thankful to have a soul. I like it more this way, while I may not feel correctly it is nicer then not being anything, yes?” The sound he made was somewhat similar to a laugh, though not quite there.
    “If I were a doll I am thankful you’d think me pretty, though I’d sadly not have my hair.” Sighing lightly he pressed a strand between his fingers. “I think I’d be a nice looking doll, you have quite the nice look about you yourself, Katherine.”




    ((Sorry if this is a bit off or something. I wrote this before going to bed so I’m pretty tired, haha. I wanted to get this done before I slept though!))


    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]Katherine was silent for a few moments, trying to figure out how to respond. Thanks were in order for the compliment and the offer, of course, but what after that? Her immediate instinct would be to argue against the compliment, to say that it was very kind of him to think she looked nice, but that she thought that many of the other girls in town were prettier. Yet this, once she thought about it, would be an incredibly rude thing to say, especially since he had already helped her so much. Of course, the other thing she wanted to say in reply could probably be taken as rude, too, yet she was already set on saying that - so perhaps it would be a compromise. She could say one thing that might be taken as rude, but would have to stay polite with the other (if she talked about it at all).


    "Thank you," she said at last, "for both the offer and the compliment. But I cannot accept." There was a faint smile on her lips, though she could feel her exhaustion weighing her down. "If I let someone else take me up there, I would lose the excitement of reaching the top myself. it would be incredible, I am sure...but it would feel a little empty. When I stand at the top, I want to be able to know that I earned my way there. Can you understand that?" She had tried to phrase this as nicely as she could, but still wasn't sure of his reaction. Trying to fill the silence, Katherine added, "Besides, it...it is what anyone should have done, right? You don't need to thank me for that." It was similar, in a way, to what he had said about her thanks for healing her. This was on a different scale, of course, but the sentiment was the same. It shouldn't be something extraordinary for a person to talk to Irko as though they were equals.


    Outside, the sun was sinking in the sky - not to the horizon yet, but close enough to make her remember that night would be coming before too long. In this season, the days were often deceptively warm, but the nights were cold, and she had not considered this when setting out for the cliffs. After all, she hadn't intended to stay outside all night; although she had hoped to reach the top, Katherine had also been hoping to do so with plenty of time left to climb down and go home before nightfall. As such, she had dressed according to the day in relatively light clothing, without as much protection from the cold as she would have liked considering the nights. She didn't mention this, of course - what was there that either of them could do? - but it did bring the realization that they really should find some way to get her back to the town without Irko being spotted.

    Blinking slowly at her Irko didn’t understand her hesitation. Had he said something wrong? No, he didn’t think so. She was just as confusing as any other human, that much was certain, so why did he feel the need to hear her accept his words.
    Was he just being pushy? Was this what being pushy was?
    Again he didn’t know.


    Tilting his head again at her words Irko finally found it in him to smile. He thought he understood, he was sure he understood what she was trying to say. Maybe not entirely but he understood it on some level.
    “I cannot say I fully understand, but that is because of who I am. But I think I understand the basic concept of what you’re trying to explain. Earning something is more valuable, even in a form that is not physical, means a lot more then being handed what you want, yes?” Again humans had odd concepts but he thought he understood this one in a way.


    “Thank you, if that is the correct word, for explaining that to me. I can’t say I understand completely but it helps when you explain.” Nodding mostly to himself the Morte smiled again.
    “I’ve learnt a lot from you, and for that I am appreciative. I think that is the word I am looking for.”


    For a moment he went into silence, thinking over the small conversation they’d just had. Things made sense and others didn’t, sometimes he just thought it was all a bit much. Humans seemed to have a need for success and to be able to gain that on their own. Was it simply the way humans were? Or was there something that made them do this?
    Maybe, if he ever found the courage to, he’d question his Master about it. Humans had souls, so was that the reason? Did he not know of it because he forced his emotions away?
    It was all simply speculation.


    Turning his head around to look at the sinking sun Irko stayed quite. Sunrises and falls were most certainly his favourite times of the day. He saw them often enough, he walked days and nights to get to his destination with the others. But there was always something nice about seeing them, something he couldn’t describe.


    “We must get you home.” He stated, turning back to her. He didn’t know how to get her back but they couldn’t stay here. With night quickly approaching he was certain things wouldn’t stay as easy as they were now.
    “Do many people walk around during the dark hours?” He questioned, looking off again.

    [align=center][size=9pt][font=andale mono]She waited quietly as he spoke, floating from one topic to the next before finally settling onto the one she had been thinking about—how they were going to get her back into the town. After all, although she hadn't been sure that she would be found by the cliffs, she was fairly certain that someone would worry if they didn't see her at least by the next day. However, she did not reply immediately. Slowly, carefully, Katherine managed to sit up. She didn't know how much Irko's magic was helping—he had said it would speed things up, but hadn't said anything about how much this speed-up would be—but she did know as she sat that her ribs were hurting a little less, and that breathing was not so painful anymore.


    When she was seated, leaning against the dirt and rocks that formed the back of the shallow cave, she spoke again. "No...it's rare that people go walking about after dark. There's usually a watchman, in case Morte come during the night to take someone away—not that they'd be able to stop you, but because people are kinda scared about being taken unexpectedly like that. If there's a warning, then everyone nearby is terrified that they're the one who's going to die, but the person who will ends up getting a few more seconds." She shrugged, grimacing a little as her ribs shifted. "It's strange...but regardless, there's a watchman, though if you bring me back, we can probably avoid him." Katherine offered a tiny smile, although inside her mind was in turmoil.


    It was strange, this new perspective that even just meeting Irko had brought. The Morte had always seemed so cold, mere soulless machines that did their jobs and nothing more. And now that was confirmed as fact, at least for most of them—but having met Irko shed a different light on this particular Morte, at the very least. There were memories now, where before she had considered him simply a villain, some evil creature taking lives without a though, where now she wondered what he had felt, if anything. What was it like for him, taking a life? That seemed a bit of a personal question to ask, though, at least at the moment, so she let it be. There was something else, though, which she did want to ask: "Irko? Will I see you again, after I return to the town? Other than when you're doing your job, I mean...times when we can talk. It would be good for both of us, I think."