Having finished these tasks, Alex ladled water from the earthenware jar to wash his face, trying to wake himself up.
The water in the jar was running low; the water level had dropped significantly. Alex had to stand on his tiptoes and stretch his body deep inside just to scoop up a full dipper.
It wouldn't last until tomorrow, he thought, looking at the dipper of water in his hand. Perhaps he would have to spend some time today carrying water back; this task was quite strenuous for his skinny frame.
Damn it, he had almost forgotten that the Arbiters were coming this morning. What would they ask? Would they discover Elias?
It certainly wouldn't be unrelated to what happened last night. The Arbiters were the law enforcement force of the extraordinary world; they had already mobilized. Did this matter involve the Luminous Church?
Alex ruffled his hair in slight frustration, messing up his black hair. It was obvious that the Arbiters had mobilized; how could the Luminous Church—the largest religious organization—not know? Trouble was approaching.
Annoying to death.
He wiped the water streaks from his face with the rough towel. His small face sank, hiding the anxiety inside; one could not see the myriad of calculating thoughts in his heart at all.
At this moment, the kettle on the stove whistled, the shrill sound cutting through Alex's wandering train of thought. He used a damp cloth to lift the kettle down, brewed himself a cup of cheap tea dust—a faint scent rising up—and then stuffed the black bread, which had been softened by the steam, into his mouth, devouring it to fill his protesting stomach.
Eating and drinking to his fill, feeling a bit of energy return, Alex's mood gradually stabilized. He turned around to look at the white skeleton and the cold corpse in the corner of the room.
Alex stood up, brushing the breadcrumbs off his shirt. He had to take advantage of the time before the Arbiters arrived to arrange things properly for Elias and deal with this little kid.
Thinking of this, Alex rose from the table, went behind the wooden door, and took out an iron shovel with a worn wooden handle.
"Alex." The skeleton was no longer curled up in the corner but stood up, its skeletal shadow stretching long across the floor.
"Is something wrong?" Alex leaned on the shovel. He didn't know when the Arbiters would arrive; time was very tight. He could only quickly bury the boy's body in the backyard or somewhere nearby.
"Gary says the boy doesn't want to reincarnate." Elias spoke up, his tone calm as he conveyed an important piece of information.
"Gary? The boy's name?" Alex frowned, glancing at the little kid hovering in mid-air with a sad expression: "Him?"
"That's right, the boy's name is Gary."
"Then don't reincarnate; being a wandering ghost is fine too." Alex didn't think it was right; the urgent matter now was to bury the boy's remains to avoid detection. As for whether the boy wanted to reincarnate or not, that could be calculated later.
He was thinking about where to bury this corpse discreetly, completely missing the deep implication in Elias's words.
The angel looked at Alex's indifferent reaction, guessing that he completely misunderstood the rules of operation regarding death and the soul.
He decided not to hint anymore and spoke directly to the point:
"Alex, once a human corpse is buried six feet underground, the soul will naturally be pulled by the gravitational force of the other side into the River of the Underworld. At that time, no matter how much the soul clings to the mortal world or how much it does not want to reincarnate, it will be forced to follow that flow and go to be reborn."
Six feet.
Alex heard the familiar phrase; he had heard this word a few times from the mouth of the old pastor in charge of the requiem rituals at the cemetery, only Alex had never known the true meaning hidden within it.
"Six feet?" Alex turned to look at Elias, his expression surprised: "So that means the coffins in the cemetery seem to be regulated to be buried at a depth of six feet underground. Is that not just to avoid the stench?"
Elias explained, his eye sockets glowing red as he looked at him: "Six feet underground is recognized as the boundary, the place closest to the River of the Underworld, where the door leading to the other side opens."
Alex half-understood, looking at the bruised corpse on the ground: "So what should I do with the boy? What if I bury him shallower?" If he didn't dispose of the corpse, it would quickly rot and stink; that would be even more troublesome.
"I can't just leave it here, can I?" Alex looked at the soul of the boy Gary. It was extremely weak; the spirit body was so faint it was translucent. He didn't look like he had any potential to become a powerful evil spirit. He couldn't just throw him into the mass grave either; he would surely be bullied and devoured by those ferocious malicious ghosts.
Alex turned to the boy, asking seriously: "Why don't you want to reincarnate? Wouldn't being reborn into a better family be happier?"
Gary lifted his head in confusion, his big round eyes looking towards Elias for help. Towards this skeletal frame that could communicate with him, the boy had an instinctual goodwill and trust. Although he trembled with fear when approaching the white skeleton emitting the aura of death, Elias had never harmed the boy; on the contrary, he listened to him.
Elias relayed Alex's words to Gary using the language of the mind.
The boy's answer came back very simply, yet it was heartbreaking. Because the boy could not speak, nor could he hear anything; his world was eternal silence. If he reincarnated, he feared he still wouldn't escape such a defective fate, that he would still be a disabled child shunned by the world.
Alex fell silent, his hand gripping the shovel handle tight. Gary's answer was too simple, too innocent, but painfully realistic. However, this problem was not as easy to solve as the boy losing his legs. Needle and thread could help the boy sew the legs severed by the wheels back onto the body, returning a complete form, but as for the lost hearing and voice, what needle and thread could sew them back?
Alex looked towards Elias with expectant eyes. Perhaps this powerful angel, who had participated in holy wars, would have some way, even if he was currently just a skeleton.
"The boy's hearing and voice were not lost at birth, but were stolen." Elias said, his voice lowering. The reason he had conversed with the boy's soul all night was naturally not just out of kindness to keep him company or worry that the boy would disturb Alex's rest.
Possessing the "Divine Vision" that could perceive the essence of all things, Elias had very easily discovered the remnants of dark magic lingering on the boy, the filthy breath left behind by some kind of forbidden evil art, draining the vitality and senses of the host.