As far as division goes, this area of the NeverNever is filled with it. The building that encompasses the area is nothing short of outrageous in its attention to detail. The ceiling is painted to the most minute bit of clarity with a depiction of the night sky, complete with varying constellations that match what could be seen in the Real night sky. When it's up, the moon moves across the ceiling of the room just as it would across the sky of Reality.
The walls of the room are painted to look like landscapes, sea, shore, farmland, a river fed by a waterfall, city, grassy hills, lush jungle, and evergreen woods. At the center of the room there is a huge, black button that looks too big to be pressed by a hand or even by a foot.
Standing in line are a series of cloaked figures, each one covered completely from head to toe, their faces obscured by a black shroud. The cloaks on each figure match a painting on the walls, and there is also a figure wearing what looked to be the celestial night sky on his cloak. While in line, they each move forward to strike at the huge black button with a massive, soft-covered mallet. The sound of a bell chiming only happens when someone hits the button hard enough, and a shudder of relief seems to go through the cloaked figure when this happens. When no sound happens, all of the figures just shake their heads in unison, as if they are all disappointed in the result.
No matter whether a 'DING' sound is heard or not, the most recent person to strike at the button hands the mallet to the next in line, then moves to the end of the line to wait their next turn.
It has taken her a few days to gather what was needed for this ritual. A backpack has been packed with those items, that same backpack sits firmly on Healani's back. Carefully she has made her way to Windward Coast by walking slowly and using her crutch. Once in there in darkness surrounded by the stars and the light of the moon she finds the weak spot in the veil. Carefully she steps through it quickly, as her will pushes that thin veil aside. She stands there quietly waiting for a moment before she finds the spot she needs in this strange and beautiful landscape called the Never Never.
The cloaked figured continue to bang the large, heavy mallet onto the button in the center of the mighty building, and seem to be paying no attention to Healani as she enters through the small opening she makes into the NeverNever. Things here seem to have a cadence, a rhythm, that has nothing to do with Healani or anything like her. It's entirely a thing of its own.
Healani listens and rhythm that the cloaked figures are creating. She watches them for a while and nods her head. She then moves away from them careful so that she does not interfere with the figures. Out of the bag she pulls out a large gallon Ziploc bag. The bag contains a mix of earth and lava rock. Following the bag she takes out a scalpel and puts it on the bag. Next food, traditional food of fish wrapped in palm leaves, coconut meat, fresh water, flowers and a tiny wood bowl is taken and set on the ground along with an iPod. With a deep breath she takes her forearm crutch and tosses to the side along with her bag. Picking up the bag and the scalpel she takes a few deep breaths to cleanse herself and open herself to Aumakua, as she embraces her affinity for the dead. Then she begins to slowly create a circle around the the items that she brought excluding the crutch and bag. As she does this she sings and chants quietly in her native tongue and begins to draw a circle with the dirt and rock.
The circle Healani creates waits for her. Steady. Solid. There's no breeze in this mighty building within the NeverNever, or within this built part of the Nevernever, as there was no indication it was simply a building on a landscape, but actually the entirety of this particular area. The sound as the giant button being struck hit almost every time one of the cloaked people struck it, but not every time.
It takes time to do this, a lot of time. She moves slowly without the aid of the crutch but her steps are sure and her circle and song steady. Her cadence of her song matches the rhythm the figures are creating. Finally she closes it. When it is closed it is sealed as she reaches into her pocket and takes the scalpel out. The sharp blade is ran across her middle finger. The blood drips on the circle itself. She then steps away and into the center. Standing there she begins call to the spirits she seeks. She sings and chants to them bringing them forth to her. The cadence is different now she calls out to them those that she she protects from the living.
As Healani closed the circle, power came up in a wall around her, separating her from anything of power on the other side. As this was the NeverNever, the power itself actually /looked/ like something, the gray, smokey color of decay, shadowing Healani a bit from the NeverNever and making her appear enrobed in a thick shroud that went all the way to the ceiling.
Her mind is focused and she continues to call. Her song and chant is old and it rings true. She allows the blood from her finger to drip into a wood bowl that is carved with images of canoes. Each dark red drop adds more to the bowl. She continue with her song. The chant changes to one of seeking and longing. Her mind completely focused on the summoning. She can feel the power of the circle stead and turn as the ocean waves finding the shore on a quiet moonless night. Her heart beats and the blood continues to drip drips from her finger tip. She cuts another finger tip on the same hand and more blood is put into the bowl. Her chant changes now and she singing the song of the warrior. She is calling to them. The tone of the chant is deep and resonates with the power that she has created with the circle.
Outside of the circle, through the doorway, the sound of drums can be heard. Like they were both close by and so far away they were just a hint at the room. The creatures in their robes stopped moving toward the black button with their huge mallet, and turned as one to look at the doorway. A moment later, the mallet was dropped to the floor, and the entire procession of veiled figures turned as one to walk out of the room, single file, through a doorway along the wall, headed away from that encroaching sound.
Next, the sound of a horn came. One note, solitary and mournful, as it cracked through the air with a clarity of someone speaking directly into an ear from an inch away. It sounded again, not caring for the rhythm of the drums, but hitting its own timing, making the song of war something entirely more sinister, as it represented the truth of war being unpredictable.
Stubborn, Healani continues to call, she knows them she can feel them. She is waiting for them. Her song and chant continues. The horn causes the hair on on her arms and the back of her neck to stand on end. The blood drips. She adds to her chant, "Eat, take the flowers, drink the water, feel the warmth of my blood." She says in her native tongue. "Join me, help me." She then continues to call to them.
As the procession grew closer, the marbled floors shook under foot. Everything started to shake, the walls, up to the ceiling, even the surroundings of the windows that looked out into darkness, making it so that the stars up over head looked to be dancing on their painted sky. Then, the scent came. Death, the dank decay of the grave, long since having lost its rot and gained only the rich, vibrant vitality of life that comes from consuming the dead flesh and turning it into soil beyond value.
The first of the specters that entered the room was easily 6 feet tall, skeletal in frame, but there were moving, winding wisps of white, blue, and faded gray around it that increased its mass tenfold, giving it the appearance of someone quite broad, tall, and thick. The next few into the room came together, all of them carrying weapons that looked vicious enough to tear a limb off just by looking at them sideways. They all had that ghostly, ghastly appearance of something held together by sheer power, sheer force of energy and will. And they all moved in time with the beat of the heavy drum, carried by the last member. The horn sounded again, clear and ear-numbingly loud within the building, and it was played by the leader.
All in all, there were 13 of them. Ranging in height from 5'5" to 6'5", with varied headdresses of feathers, or crowns of flowers and leaves. Each moved into position around the circle Healani had made, encompassing her entirely, with one of them standing slightly closer, staring at her, a dire expression on its ghostly, mostly skeletal face. Eyes shone clearly, not looking away, with a blue/gray/white flame and smoke rising from them. "How dare you summon we, the beloved dead? What great king has asked you to remove us from our duties?!" The voice was archaic, the Hawaiian spoken without the slightest bit of modern slang, overly structured and precise.
There is no fear, she stands there. Her eyes that are black as night meets each and every one of their gazes. She studies them for a moment memorizing their features. Her eyes go back to the speaker and she meets his gaze with a steady one of her own. Power courses through her. When she speaks she speaks in Hawaiian. "We who keep and protect the those that have died call upon you. We who are the protectors of the dead. You will hear us, you will join us, you will eat and rest. Then we have a task for you to do. We ask you to teach someone who is a of the missionary blood, one who refuses to see our ways and disrespects those who have passed. Disturbing their journey and transition. You will listen to me and us. You will heed us and you will listen to me. When you have taught this lesson you will go back to your task. You are not to kill unless they harm you. You are my beloved dead you are our beloved dead. All of you are beloved by us and protected by us and me. Do you understand me?"
The thirteen warriors stood there, the drums silent much as the horn, all staring implacably at Healani. The one that had come closer to do the talking just looked at the woman in her shroud of smoldering gray and reached forward, holding his hand out straight, palm facing toward Healani. "You touch the Keeper, child. But you are not the keeper. Does the keeper wish this, or only the mortal soul you have living in that frail home?" Oddly, the words don't come out as rude, or in any way lording, or even grating. The voice is matter of fact, as if it were asking a question over coffee and a book. Or in a smoke pit, asking for a light.
The hand is seen but Healani does not move. "The keeper wishes it, not I, we ask that you do not kill unless she harms you and your brethren. She is to learn. She is to learn respect for our ways, for the what is here, and for what this land represent." She pauses. "It is wise for you to ask us this. This mortal vessel with its frail shell is stronger than it looks. The soul is strong and is what is needed. It is why I chose her when she was child. Just as you were chosen when you were children. You will listen to us. There are offerings to give to lend strength. All dead are our beloved, all dead are beloved. You are and your brethren are beloved." She then offers a salute that is given to great warrior of old, the salute is not a modern one. "You are all truly the great protectors." She then offers then a chant that is short but speaks of their great deeds in battle. She chants and sings to them and when it comes to and end she watches and waits.
The warriors continued to stare at Healani, until the one with the horn lifted it to his phantasmal lips, leaned his head back, and blew on it hard enough that an ear-shattering, pure, note ripped through the building. The warrior that had chosen to speak simply nodded to Healani once. "How many moons do you give this mortal to learn or to be taken if she has not?"
She does not flinch when the horn pierces the air, "From now until the next full moon." Healani tells them. "Remember do not kill." She leans down and picks up her iPad. Turning it on she plays a piece of music. "She is the singer of this song find her by this song." She offers them as a way to hunt." She then nods her head. Her eyes are bright. "We thank you for taking up this task." She says to them.
"Do not tell me not to kill, you asked us to go against ourselves already once, Mortal Child. You cannot tell us to go against ourselves completely and expect an accord." The speaking warrior leaned closer in toward the circle, staring deeply into Healani's eyes without an ounce of emotion on its face, but its voice caused the circle around Healani to shimmer, like it was a mirage instead of made of pure power. "We respect the Keeper, so we do not make haste to murder you for being insolent in your address. We will, however, never submit to not killing, it is our right as the sacred ferriers of our fallen dead. We will, however, maintain the original request and not kill this single person if they do not harm one of us. At least until such time as the agreement is fulfilled. The next full moon. Then, she is no longer under the protection of this geas."
"We can ask this of you, but we do understand your nature. It is agreed, the singer is yours after the full moon if you wish it. We respect you, respect is given in the way of the keeper. You are the ones that ferry the fallen dead. The task that we deem is very important. A task that must be continued until the end of time." She bows her head again.
The warrior simply nodded once to Healani, then made an almost imperceptible motion as a whip of white and hazy gray power moved through the air, capturing the sound of the music that Healani had provided them, and making it go eerily silent, as if the music were swallowed whole. "She will not be killed until after the full moon, by us, unless she harms one of ours. Until then, we will perform what is necessary to educate her, in between our other duties, over which you have no bearing in the slightest. Stay clear of this woman, little Mortal, or be prepared to show the proper respect upon our arrival, or you will in no way be protected by this bargain."
He leaned a little closer to the wavering, grayed out circle of power and breathed slightly... or at least he seemed to breath, it was more that air simply flowed through the mighty Spectral Warrior's skull, and it made the wall of power wobble like it was about to collapse. "Be grateful you have the choice of the Keeper on your side, or you would have not seen your next sunrise unless the Gods saved you from your fate." With that, the sound of the drum kicked up again, rattling the floor, the walls, the windows, the ceiling, and the 13 warriors of old began marching away, leaving in single file, none of them looking back to Healani. The lead warrior was the last to march off, choosing instead to stare at the small woman behind the gray veil of power while all of the others left.
"We will be busy with other tasks." There is a pause. "We too have work we must do." She pauses again and bows her head in respect. When the warriors leave, she begins sings and chants. It is and old chant that gives respect to the fallen warriors who had been protecting the villages in days of yore. One that has managed to survive. Her body aches but she remains standing as they leave. Her voice rings out and the words hold power in them still. Raising her head as she sings she watches them as they leave the building one by one. Her own eyes rest on the leader. Her mind is still open to the Keeper and its power.
"You are only a child of the dead until you are one of them, Frail Mortal." The Lead Warrior looked at Healani after delivering his grave message, and then turned to walk away, his feet making loud, heavy sounds as he marched across the stone that served as the floor for the magnificent building. And then, he too was gone. It left Healani there in her circle, as the drums and horn faded to nothingness, as if the Night Marchers had walked further away in that short time than they should have been able.
Healani does not move for that circle for a good hour. When does does she packs up her items and breaks the circle. She shakes her head shoves everything back into the pack. She shakes her head. "Shit, lets not do that again, next time warn me what we are summoning." She shakes her head. "I am going to be late for work." She mutters. "I think I a am dead woman." She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out.
As Healani had stayed in her circle, the beings in cloaks and shrouds walked back into the center of the grand building. Picking up their mallet, the first in line slammed into the button hard with it, enough so that it rang that perfect tone. Then, it passed the large mallet on to the next creature.
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