Torn space and boundary lines

"So before this all had even happened with the enders and before the title existed. I was frist half of soul to been broken in two. The mages coexistence among society's around the world was like something out of Harry Potter. The history part about witch trials and fear of magic was normal. We accepted to stay hidden. No need for such drastic form of a whole island for us to find safety in. There wasn't a need for successions. Noble families shared estates across the world. Those times were very different to how this mess has been."

This version of soul was a young gentleman whom worn his times modern day clothing. It was a smart but comfortable suit. It would suit any aristocratic society of 2010. He had no wounds, no scars and carried a soft poker face while listening to anyone else speak. He really did imbody exactly how this events of time should have been. He wasn't a prince, there didn't need to be one.

"I am what is left umtampered as the memories of what broke time. I well not be as accurate as I used to be." The shadow mask of the half soul, torn in so many scars and wounds. Dusting but slightly reforms again, "The Clothus were a part of it as was the orginal Elder ender. Their war spilled across. Purging mage families out of existence. It led to the flee to a island of the monstrous stranger's creation. Once the dust of war with clithus settled. He seeked a way to twist this universe to be force actions to create the title of ender. He had slaughtered so many fixable worlds. The damage was enough to achieve what he wanted... but at the cost of our own private pattern. We no longer walk history by how fate intended. Its what makes many problems for the gods and many alike."

These two sit side by side, comfortable as they shared this information with the many other fragements of soul here. For once this realm of storage, a single soul was all that was here.

It took many shapes and pieces. Choastic as it looked. Every part had listened and were thinking. Each was giving a sense of wholeness and collective thinking.

The sky was a shower of ancient lost money coins. Many hand of many bodies were taking grapple of some of it. Pocketing or placing to use for later.

"I finally understand why the politics is not healthy of the island nation. I see how family tree is so strange." This is whom you been following for some time. The one whom stolen the name James. Beside him in posed thinking was his real name and current title, prince Philip.

"So what exactly is going on right now?" A persona of nightmare, the self that is your dream body. Or rather, this is the dream body of this soul. A fragement shape of many shapes and faces; a mirror of soul shape for the mind to comprehend.

"Three tomes of souls that belong to other enders of other universe boundaries are leaving. Clean tearing from this history, so that they may do as then want without us. They are fixed enough to leave. This has however lowered soul density around all realms, so a restart of history is required. In having to restart from broken tomes time, there been a creation of a crystal soul. She is our ally, a once holder of our title. She too shared believe in unity and peace. We can trust her. A tool as the title calls her."

"How rude of it. A crystal soul god slayer is to be respected not downplayed as a tool." Some fragements share dislike of the opinions. It was a vast majority agreement but there still holds knowing what the title noted to be also true.

She is a tool in the sense of contacting crystal based souls outside the current boundaries. By current definition of laws, she a literal object. Solid formed souls are always cursed objects. She's just the first as a god slayer with will power and constant sentients.

"What of Sean?" The fragement whom is the borrowing powers of life and death. A winged version of himself that carries that balance well. The expreince of reaping souls.

"Confused yet fine with current arrangements. His self-sufficient for now. We had not need his expreince to restart time. The claws of a slayer has this same affect but carried no judgement or name placing into other sections. As long as souls go back into the body shell the carved themselves, we don't need the judge scythe." This fragement is the poisoned curse manifest of what happens to someone poison by any sort of god slayer.

The corruption of soul being converted into a slayer. Its what gods fear about slayers. This ability of the posion takes away the divinity and powers of gods. The title of a true god has to leave for a new body host.

"I dislike this method... however it is used to check souls not removing for new book placement. I can excuse this use for that reason only. To not be judged by the scythe is a death law offence." The reaper side has now a book to hand with researching any law excuse or issue for encase Court of soul is concerned.

court of soul is any court system outside of humanity. Demons and angels have their versions. Gods too. Clothus especially. The damned mirror but do not use it as intended. The shadows of the damned use it as a information gathering point to learn laws then to impose them. Karma is already doing it for shadows.

For as many realms within the universe there is, a fragement of soul has a representative shape. There is some fragement in one shape for more then one realm. Case in point is the next to speak.

"As of shrinking due to realm placement shifts, the journey towards a boundary outside of known space has new requirements. Its of warning to most of myself that the outsiders of boundaries will be more dangerous. Be considerate in travels from place to place. If kidnapped, do what is necessary to appease. Adapt if you are required to. That risk is worth taking now."

This was the god title that other timelines have given him. To be exact, this is the accumulation of expreince, energy and power from those other time cloths in his care. When the ender title was give to him and not the intended soul within that timeline. Its divine intervention is what it left of the first elder ender that cause the break of this history pattern. Its words as a valued moral to listen to.

"The cleaning of corpses was quite amusing. A shame that it never lasts."

This is always that part of self that; holds to animal instincts, relish in selfishness or greed, and finds comfort in horror or tragic events. It is optimistic yet mental damaging thoughts.

The collective note it as the insanity side. The one whom copes best at the face of gore or sorrow. There is recognition that we all need this part even if it is a self-harming way of thinking. It helps come up with the crazy plans that best fit the high stake situations. That part we are most disgusted and disappointed with ourselves. There no perfect without it.

"The creep is right." The adapted soul with a demons curse over it. Whom knows when ever that happened. Its counter as a angel half nods in agreement.

"The ink is reconnected the souls into the rebirth flames of creatation and wherever else souls go through the processes of being cycled through existence." The feather wings flutter, "We are all about to be separated once more. So any last advice before rebirth is appreciated."

The loudness of conversations grown volumes everywhere within this boundary realm. It came to a satisfaction of silence or that of leave of every fragements going back to hiding across the known boundaries. It left the segments of soul that belongings among the living. Each talking of where they will go and end up, where to be found when put back to living conditional standards. The inky mass steals at pieces at a time, back where it would belong in time.

Philip gives a last shoulder pat and shadow altered. Walks his own way back to the island homeland his trapped to.

It was only now the one whom stolen the name James. Inspecting the now empty doorway. It were once a stone obsidian slab of manifest erased time memories that blocked his access into the cottage. Presently this cottage was more the door to his bedroom when he was living with Greg and David. The door stood alone without walls around it.

"When you walk through that door, you will be back to your first day in the shelter. The first time you seen a orphanage. They had evicted you from a abandoned factory you had been using as home. Its only really been 4 months since the refugees of the Glader verse Darkwood throne war. Your dead father is now a greedy man whom wants power. His unhappy with the memories and power of king. He has been a unfaithful to his queen. Your not her child. A child of a maid. You will not inherit kings power. To be honest, I fear for you if that ever came to past. Many enders of mage backgrounds become lost from the influence of to many past memories."

'James' turns to the mask of gooping ink and creaked face plate mask. It was sad. It is rare to carry a sad expression. Thinking deeply there a sense of knowing why.

The ashes of his real mother in a necklace around his neck. The up bringing of being assumed a dirty commoner and many other experiences. All with the association of being normally society arkward. Yes, the memories of this life were pitiful. Yet they are not the worst. He has to accept that.

"Thank you for the warning. I will stay strong. But I am also guessing that you will have to play against me this time. There a soul with larger problems now."

"Indeed." This is why ot was sad, having to leave a acceptable host to save another is a tough choose. This part steps up to the ink and embraced to a calm to it. It twisted unsure of such humanity given to it.

"Then you will do everything to save them. If you require any part of me to help, let me know. You know which parts would ask what requirements. I would only be scared of you naturally but deep down I will trust you. I not going to be mad if you break my trust. I have seen many reasons of needs to break trust. I will continue my prayer to you. As there is no illusion of what you are to me." It tilts with thinking a lot.

"Maybe I will have you closer around then you think." I nod with accepting that. There is a segment of a new colour stone that is passed through me, time adjustment to some unseen alternating pattern. The door through back to the youth hostel has the lady of summons snatching this James back to time.

Watching the young 10 year old waking from a nightmarish dream, that of filtering current mind facts. As now his the servant of the known prince. He really is James. The soul whom used to be this person before was from a tome ripped away from known history. This really is the now servant of the prince.

With it was the knowledge of where the prince is and what duty he must take to insurance that the ender of now and the prince of now is unhindered in their needed time. It has the lad sitting up and relearning so minor practice. What is his new limit. Of what it the closet contacted fragement of soul near him to gather other world energy into. He weight the benefits and risks of this practice. Informed enough to act accordingly to life and death.

The inky mass of the title sighs in a mix of emotions. It sees what it must then left the soul fragements to purposes. It makes its rounds of contacting gods and faiths. Checking realms without being influenced by human like ideas. It will in due time find the host it needed to enact universe wishes to. As that is its purpose of existence within time. It can not act within the ideal host premises until there was a stability in other cultures and societies. A changed host gives a better insight of where to find such out cries.

As so... the world views have been shaded in filters assumptions once more. It learns as more realms as needed by such reseting assumptions. Not forgetting the learnt adventures of the fragmented soul before.