"Oh, it was glorious. A moment of triumph after over a year of effort. I think my friend qualifies as an epic hero- Or at least is on the scale. Most wouldn't see things like that. And it was needed, the cryptid was exceptionally dangerous." She shivers. "Its claws implanted parasites that enthralled corpses to fight for it, moved near-silently, had chitin like steel and a debilitating screech that clouded the mind, and was too much a coward to fight openly. And it was person-smart. Exceedingly dangerous. That's the kind of thing that curses produce. Weiss hunts them, and I help sometimes- Not as a fighter, but as a religious advisor and speaker to the victims."

"A desecrator, and one that powerful... If we ever ran into something like that, back when I was on exorcism circuit, we would have ran and called for reinforcements. I guess your Weiss is the sort of individual who would have taken that call. Hunting down that kind of monster is a triumph indeed."

"Is she still in the epic hero business?"

"Cryptid hunts tend to be a months-long process. Weeks of anxious boredom, punctuated by two minutes of sheer terror. She takes long breaks in between. Honestly, if you can convince her she's not - being selfish and weak for not helping people all hours of the day and occasionally failing to kill some horrible thing before it kills someone- I've learned that lesson but it's a sticky point for her." Sigh.

"That is very common for high level exorcists. Taking it as a duty to help others is admirable. Especially when most epic hero types are in it for wealth and glory, with defending the innocent a distant third goal. It's often taken too far, though. So we– my underworld cult and the broader network of allied exorcist and funerary organizations– try to make sure they have counselors to keep them grounded. Counselors and friends."

"I suppose that is my role, too. I should scheme to get her to show off. Not in front of a huge crowd, but a small one perhaps. The lap of luxury will help, until it starts to feel stifling instead. The palace is very well-appointed."

"It is luxurious. If you want, I'm sure your attache can organize a party where one can show off magic. They do enjoy doing that, for any or no reason."

"Ooh... That could be good, or it could backfire terribly. I'll have to ask about it first."

"Of course. I'm only suggesting out of hopes of being invited. Hope it isn't too venial to influence things so I have more diplomatic duties that require spending a day or two in the palace."

"Perhaps I will require a thorough familiarization with the afterlife practices of the city and how kitsunes might fit into them."

She covers much of her face with a little hand fan pulled from a slit pocket, viney-flower pattern in maroon with gold thread (her favorite), carried for precisely this sort of fashionable purpose, to hide her smile.

“Perhaps you will. Fits your duties as shrine attendant, and mine since it is helping a colleague in the same field.”

He looks approvingly at the fan. “Beautiful. From your world, I assume?”

"Mmhm. From Sechel, a colony of the empire of Noten in an arid region. The thread is true gold, and the dye is from some manner of snail, as I understand it. It even has an eensy bit of magic - just a hint of durability. It's no armor, but it resists wear and fading. There is something wonderful about trade- All the amazing and beautiful things from other places available to those who seek them out. We've a god of trade, of sorts- Erius, the bird- No particular species, just 'a bird'- is a patron of trade and travel, and concerned also with law and, I would phrase it as... Good judgement? Clear sight? What gods preside over the Alabaster Underworld- If it is indeed presided over by gods?"

He listens interestedly at the details of far off lands, looking admirably at the fan. (or at her, it’s ambiguous)

”Truly. It’s often enjoyable to spend an afternoon at the bazaar, just hearing stories of what and where.”

”As for our gods… the Gatekeeper presides over the wider underworld of which the Alabaster City is part. His kingdom is vast and power great, the boundaries between life and death across many worlds are his to guard. Our whole operation is run with magic borrowed from him. There are smaller gods specific to our city. Rivernius Three is a demigod, former mortal. He ruled the city Fulcrum during the age of empire, and now puts his administrative talent running an underworld city. I expect your bird and he would get along, sensible professional sort of gods. His wife is Reminiscencé, the nymph of one of the underworld rivers. The Demon Prince of the Hell of Boiling Oil is also venerated as part of a trade deal.”

(Flattering, if so. But this is a serious conversation, not a time to flirt... Much. She waggles her eyebrows once and folds the fan again.)

"A church order then, following principles set by the Gatekeeper? Hmm... A demon prince... Well, I don't know the context at all so I should not judge. How often would you say the dead communicate with the living? Do they tend to reincarnate, eventually, or, ah, accumulate?"

(A raised eyebrow in return and then to business.)

”A church order would be accurate, though we are in some sense also a branch of a municipal government. The organization structure is complicated.”

“How often the dead communicate greatly depends on situation and tradition. In terms of my specific underworld city and our clients in this city, several times a year. On two holidays, the dead visit the living. On other days, psychopomps can carry messages, or we can use divination to hold a  full conversation, though it is expensive. One prominent family meets with their ancestors weekly, updating them on the events of the city and asking for advice.”

”Most of the dead eventually tire of the underworld and wish to reincarnate. For all the amenities we can provide, it still isn’t life. To give you an idea of how long people stay, one tradition is to remain in the underworld until no one alive remembers one’s name. Though some are quicker to leave, and others find some purpose and stay much longer. It also varies by station. A prince buried with grave goods and servants will stay much longer than a shade who spends most of his time asleep and barely ever receives offerings of food and drink from the living world.”