Page 44 of Sin Eater

I'll have the answers to my questions soon enough.

I take a deep breath, shake out my stiffened muscles, and sink into the gloom, swallowed by cold and nothingness. My heart beats between my ears, and I’m aware that this is where it all hangs out. Not my inevitable end, but Ember's fate, and probably that of the magic of our world.

The magic...

To think I had believed it was confined to a few divine mission orders. It was so simplistic and so far from reality! If only I had been able to grasp its scope and enjoy its virtues. Once again, the truth comes too late.

After an uncertain time, a bright light appears in the darkness of the tunnel. The end is nigh.

Although anxious, I press on. The sensation of leaving my body and becoming a spectator of what's happening to me grips me. It's as if I'm in the middle of a cottony cloud, guiding my steps from a distance.

I enter an immense dome which, although underground, is strangely luminous. Frozen on the threshold, I observe the stone vault, covered with a luminescent material that radiates with such vigor that it's as if the place were bathed in daylight.

Rows of metal tables follow rows of metal tables, and on one wall, silver death chests, typical of a classic morgue. The image of the police morgue comes back to me. It was ridiculously cramped compared to the facility opposite me. Here, the refrigerated compartments run right up to the ceiling. A kind of forklift, designed to convey the remains, is parked at the bottom of the wall.

How many bodies can they store here?

Is it necessary to keep so many at the same time? What is the reason for this? Why here?

“We have orders to try everything,” says a voice hidden behind an opaque screen.

“What else can we try?”

Crouching down, I discreetly step forward to try and catch a snatch of what they're talking about.

“Let's recap,” begins the first voice, accompanied by the sound of crumpling paper. “According to Brother Stefan's notes, the body has undergone no natural alterations since death. The flesh has remained intact and firm, barely discolored, suggesting that its owner still inhabits it.”

“But he's really dead!”

“Of course he's dead; that's the point of the spell! Well, almost...”

What does he mean, “almost”?

Is this guy dead or not?

“We need to start from the beginning to understand what makes this case different from the others.”

“His identity, perhaps?”

“I doubt that’s enough.”

“After all, this is Ember Crow we're talking about! Not just any magical creature, he's—”

“That's enough of this! Never speak his name again! He’s dead!”

“If you say so...” He frowns.

So it's my ghost they're so worried about?

“As I was saying,” resumes the first, whose voice betrays his annoyance, “his body remained frozen in a state similar to a simple sleep. However, the body was studied and then cremated, as required by procedure. Nevertheless, it refused to be consumed.”

“You mean it didn't burn when placed in the crematorium? Do you think his particular nature would have interfered with the process?”

Couldn't he be more specific with his thoughts? What exactly does “his nature” refer to? How can I understand what's going on if I only have bits and pieces of information?

In any case, it confirms one thing: Ember is a magical creature, despite his ordinary appearance. As to which one, it's impossible to say, especially as I don't know which species really exist. However, I find it hard to imagine him as a fairy or a korrigan. A kelpie perhaps?

I suppress a giggle. No, really, my stiff doesn't look the part. At the same time, I have no idea what he really looks like, which doesn't help me in my speculations.

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