Chapter Text
Helm packed up her bag, fully aware of the schedule she had to keep to arrive on time. She put on the school uniform consisting only of sneakers, socks, cuffs, and a miniskirt. On her way out she drank the orange juice and took the toast her mother had left for her in the kitchen. Out on the street she found her bike locked up under a rain cover.
Breathing deep and looking around she tried not to look at the bike’s seat. Instead focusing on the trees and mountains. This valley showed signs of being hit frequently with lots of rain and strong winds. All the buildings seemed designed to accommodate these facts of life.
A couple of oni women rode by on their bikes and waved, each dressed similar to her and her mother, but with higher quality fabrics and jewelry, and no skirts. That manner of dress ment these oni, one with red skin and horns and the other blue, were full females, unlike Helm and Reaku who were fem-herms. And only herms could join the Priesthood to become Custodians. Not that most people believed those rituals actually did anything.
Helm looked back at the bikes in the rack and the broad based dildoes that acted as seats. Looking off in one direction, as if looking at a camera, she stated aloud, “If I try walking to the train I’ll be late.”
Once she arrived at the station she locked up her bike for when she’d return that night. She saw a fellow elf ritually cleaning the station grounds and was taken aback that even the shrine maiden clothes were so sexualized, still lacking shoulder and breast coverage even though the vest covered the back and the long sleeves covered most of the arms. At least the back of the skirt went lower than the miniskirt she wore, even if the front didn’t.
Before boarding the train she bowed to her sister priestess and received a smile and bow in return. Given this woman’s red and white robe colors, Helm knew she was lower rank, and probably hadn’t even been initiated into the nature of the supernatural realm her cleaning protected the people from.
Aboard the train men and male-herms groped women all over, never violating the rule of only touching where they were exposed, but there was just so much required to be exposed, that rule barely meant anything. As a lowborn Elf, few wanted to be seen touching her, a minor grace she was glad for, despite the surrounding prejudice it represented.
Waiting, she tried to focus on her current situation and on contacting Doc. <Doc, are you out there? Have you found me yet? I don’t seem to have access to a lot of my powers, and some things I am not allowed to show the public. Hello?>
Doc did not answer, but Helm did. <Hello Helm.>
Helm replied to herself, <Uh, what? How are you me?>
<I am you, and you are me. We are Helm. Your training at the Temple has cultivated a portion of yourself to act as a social front in demeaning situations. I can also keep piloting the body even when your thoughts are elsewhere or focused on more important tasks. We are both a consummate Custodian of great skill. You may call me Polite Company until we decide upon a better name.>
<Right, that’s the name of the Custodial technique I studied at the Temple to craft you. And you are presently in our Mind Palace?>
<Mind Palace Technique, yes, or as we like to call it Headspace. Since the body is not doing anything, why don’t you join me in here and I can show you around?>
With a moment of focus, Helm found herself standing in a white walled museum. Standing before her was another copy of herself wearing the Custodial uniform of her rank and standing in a socially submissive pose designed to be present, but unnoticed. “So you are a curated version of me, with no direct knowledge of my history as a Jumper?”
“That is correct. I know only as much as you need to me to know for my duties at any given time. Otherwise, we are the same person. Here in our Headspace museum we store all of our memories. This wing is your most recent jump. I suggest you go through and clean up those memories for efficient recall. If I do it, my lack of memory may cause me to delete memories you might wish to retain. The chained section appears to be even older memories, but you do not currently have access to them.”
Helm walked confidently through her headspace looking at the infinite empty space and how small her current memories seemed by comparison. “And what of these doors over here?”
Polite Company bowed in apology, “I must apologize for my lack of memory of these doors. I know only that they must remain clean and clear for your use.”
“For my use?”
“That is correct.”
Helm picked one door and opened it, emerging into her cherry orchard. Nymphs all around collected cherries and took them to the workers and workshops of Cherry Town. She found that she couldn’t actually walk, her feet passing through the dirt as she failed to step on anything. Willing herself forward, she floated through the cherry trees in a ghostly manner.
Floating over to her workers they gasped, then realized it was her. “Oh, Merchant Helm! You’ve returned!”
“Sort of, yes. I seem to be projecting mentally. My body is currently traveling. It appears the next world is one in which I can’t directly import the town. I should still be able to summon my container, occasionally, so why don’t you guys load it up with valuables so I can still produce the energy to keep you all empowered.”
Foreman Trok approached her projection, “Greetings Merchant Helm. It has been about a week since we last saw you. And ever since you plucked us out of the world, winter ended completely. We’re pretty good self-sustaining as is with everything you set up. If we can help, let us know, otherwise, focus on the mission.”
Helm smiled at how well her people were doing, “Ok, I still need to find out what that is, but thank you. Oh, try calling me, actually. I want to see if that still works.”
Her projection vanished as the phone in her backpack range. She answered it. “Thank’s Trok, looks like we still have Virgin Mobile service here. Call me if you guys need anything from outside.”
She hung up and got off the train to look at her school. It looked like some mix of an ancient Chinese fortress and a sprawling Japanese manor in a dense forest, though she wasn’t quite sure how she knew either of those references. They weren’t from her own world of origin.
Female students walked from the dorms and the train station for the main entrance. She saw a few wearing skirts, fellow fem-herms, but the ones she saw were oni and human, not elves. Oni were the highest of society, humans the majority.
“Ah, you must be the Temple Custodian they sent.” The portly oni with blue skin lifted her badge to read it. “No other way such a low elf as you could attend our establishment. Welcome to Jokaishi Finishing School. You’ll be allowed to wear your miko when cleaning, but when attending classes you will be expected to wear the proper student uniform. We’ll see to making sure you get a First Year bow for your pretty little neck.”
She backed off mentally and allowed Polite Company to take over and bow appropriately for his station, the badge pinching at her slightly before it slipped out of his fingers. “Understood Principle Edmond. I will perform at my utmost for the safety of all our souls. Temple’s Cleansing be with you.”
<Principle Edmond? Oh! Fuck, it’s Edmont!?>