(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Obelisk, or 'The Hangman's Pillar' as the boys called it to the consternation
of many Dustmen. So many jokes had been made about the large stone
erection, carved with the names of countless dead, that they had gotten
stale years ago. Yet still the jokes were told if only to tweak some Dustie
noses.
Soego had always been a slim boy, and in the alleys it was always a
disadvantage. Here though, he found it easy to squeeze between a burly
factory worker and a tall, toothless old man. Behind him one of the taller
boys, a soon-to-be Backalley Shiv if rumors were to be believed, was
punching his friend in the shoulder. That was the most violence the
Dustmen would allow in this sanctum. Soego shifted, trying to nudge himself
a bit more room. The old pews squeaked.
And there she was.
Her name was Seladril, a golden-haired aasimar with azure eyes and a
milk-toothed grin. The loose Dustman robes ensured her modesty, but it
was low-cut enough that it revealed a neck like a swan's. Seladril moved as if
she were a force of nature: she swished like the wind kissing the summer
grass, walked as if she traveled the paths of the stars that so many Prime
Worlders spoke of. Yet it was not this celestial dance that guided her: rather,
it was her natural will and charm that seemed to cause all in the planes to
bend to her beckoning.
And it was that charm that drew the crowds to witness a Dustman preach,
of all things.
She knew how to use her body to that effect. A flick of her wrist would catch
the eyes of all the boys, and they would stare. If she lifted her arms just so,
those drab, loose sleeves would slip, revealing slim lily-white arms bending
like liquid porcelain, and the men would sigh.
Once a week she came to the obelisk. She would smile with each point, joke
and fill the air with bubbly laughter between each hymn. But what drew
young Soego was her eyes.
Limpid and bright like silvered sapphire, Seladril's gaze was so unlike the
dull, dead beyond-the-grave stare carried by so many of her brothers and
sisters. When she was silent, they were piercing as wistful half-forgotten
memories at twilight. When she smiled, those eyes were bright and teasing
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