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Crest of Souls [Progression Fantasy]
100-I’ll Call Her Maeve

100-I’ll Call Her Maeve

As soon as the words that made up the emissary summoning prayer left the comfort of Elmer’s lips, a very discernible but abrupt feeling of warm and cold breezes mingling together, swirled about his body. It was a sensation he recalled quite well.

At that moment, the flames of the blessed gray candles he’d used in setting up his altar, transitioned from its yellowish orange color to a deep, enigmatic blue; a different reaction than that which had occurred for his reaper’s prayer ritual.

But he had been expecting that.

Different ventures into the supernatural brought about different results; that much was apparent. And since he was not a stranger to the current otherworldly occurrence happening before him, he knew the next step he was to take.

The appearance of an emissary was not visible to the naked human eyes, seeing as they existed on a plane parallel to the world of men—a plane mere humans could never reach in their natural state. Therefore, the only way to see them was by a person enhancing their vision, taking it to a superhuman height not restricted by the laws of mere mortals.

But just as he was about to do that, he noticed the air in front of him turn ethereal, warpy, and almost void-like. Then suddenly, the wind around his face thinned out to a considerable degree—though still enough to sustain his breathing—while his thighs had something come in contact with them.

Elmer’s heartbeat slowed down as he heaved out a sharp and quick groan of something akin to sexual pleasure.

This reaction of his was as a result of the tingling sensation which had come to be below his waist—a gentle pressure brought forth from a fleeting sense of weightlessness that had settled on his lap.

And putting everything together, he came to have a strong feeling that something was seated on him—some being that was light and rather graceful.

What in the world…?!

The pounding of Elmer’s heart evolved precipitously from a brisk trod to a hastened gallop as he arrived at that conclusion. And he wasted not a single second more in reciting the prayer for his spiritual sight directing it at whatever emissary was bequeathed to him.

A somewhat subjugated sensation of heat enveloped his eyes, but now far used to its few seconds of pain, Elmer barely had a crunched expression before it faded away. Although, that expression came in full force soon later as he caught a view of the entity that was seated on his lap.

Compared to the late Ms. Edna’s emissary, which had been of the pristine white hand of a skeleton with a flesh on its palm and a blood-dripping quill between its thumb and forefinger, his own began to make him consider what sort of person he was as an Ascender.

Was it that he was weird in all? Was something wrong with him? Was the notion that he was cursed actually correct?

Because if all those were not true, then how come his emissary was so vastly different from the last one he’d seen? How come his was a full grown elegant lady?!

Whatever sort of unique characteristic did he possess?!

The being that had thrown Elmer’s mind into disarray was a young, slender woman of pale skin, one that was only visible due to her shoulders being uncovered unlike the rest of her body.

She was shrouded mysteriously in a neck-high sleeveless dress which flowed down to the point that it enveloped her feets wholly; and on it was embroidered nigh invisible patterns of minute flowery designs that were, as well, on her long arm gloves. Completing her peculiar attire was a mild transparent black crepe veil over her head which scarcely exposed the bun-packed black hair she had.

No matter how much Elmer swept his narrowed gaze, crowned by furrowed brows, over her, he could only come up with one similarity for her appearance.

She looked nothing less than a mourning widow.

Although, one thing prevented him from settling on that, which was the somewhat large and uncanny weeping female doll cradled in her arms.

Why is it both smiling and crying…?

Elmer felt his hairs stand on end. Even though he’d already encountered a few supernatural creatures before, the sight of the doll still creeped him out noticeably.

Somehow, it took the cake when it came to bizarre appearances.

All of a sudden, he pushed aside his shivers, quickly reminding himself that this was just another of the many otherworldly things he’d seen and would see later on, using that insight to settle down his mind.

But the one thing—or rather, being—he couldn’t force away was his emissary; he had a bad feeling about trying to attempt such. Hence why he instead constrained the natural tingling sensation about his manhood to quiet down, and made sure his thoughts did not derail from the major importance of what was at hand.

“So,” Elmer began after a momentary pinch of his eyes following an exhale. “How does this work?” His question was not particularly directed at his emissary, though at the same time it was because he was completely ignorant on how to pass messages across through her.

As opposed to Ms. Edna’s emissary, he could not see any quill or any outstretched source or part of body which gave off the impression that he was to relay his messages with it.

Obviously his would be different, he knew, considering his emissary had the form of a person—complete in entirety. And that was why he was speaking to her like she was in truth an actual person. Perhaps he would get a reply.

Although a few seconds passed and none came. Maybe she was just as doll-like as the doll in her hands.

Elmer breathed out in exasperation at that and leaned back on his chair, taking his gaze to the red tongue-and-groove ceiling above as he let his mind wander.

Quite the emissary that is bequeathed to me… Hmph… Unique characteristics, is it…? I wonder what unique characteristic I have with a widow-like entity that can’t speak… Or maybe this characteristic stems from my supposed twin…? Heh, I’ve not even heard from him in a while… Guess he only comes out to torture me emotionally…

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Elmer shrugged and pushed himself back forward, the distance between his face and his emissary’s neck just a little bit over a finger’s length.

He glanced over her again, but still nothing except her spooky features and her doll stood out.

It’s almost like she’s not even alive… What even is she…?

He looked at the exposed areas of her shoulders.

Her skin is too pale; the effects of no blood flowing, obviously… So if she can’t move or respond, then how am I supposed to relay messages through her…

His eyes narrowed for a moment.

Is she even breathing…?

Of the mind to find an answer to his question, Elmer shifted to his side and stretched forth a finger, leading it slowly toward the place his emissary’s nostrils were meant to be biologically located. But just as it almost arrived at its destination, he felt a slight squirm on his thighs, causing him to instinctively halt his attempt at confirming his emissary’s breathing.

What is this…? She moved just now, didn’t she…? Instinct…? Hesitance to prevent me from coming in contact with her…? But she’s on my lap, why the hesitance…?

Elmer squeezed his eyes as he fell into his mind, and a moment later he decided to confirm if he was right on both his emissary moving along with her hesitance to avoid him touching her. And as he stretched forward his finger again, the slight squirm happened once more.

He found his answer.

For some reason, she doesn’t want me to touch her… Is this something like she can initiate the contact, but I can’t…? Why…?

Hmph…

Well, if she doesn’t want me to then I’m not going to touch her… My gain in taking such a risk doesn’t seem like it’ll be equivalent to my loss if the outcome turns out negative…

No, thank you…

At least I’ve gotten my answer… She’s not without life, but she won’t move unnecessarily and won’t respond to my words… I guess I have no choice but to think deeply on a way to relay messages…

Elmer came to that conclusion with a sigh as he attempted to cancel his emissary’s summon by blowing off the candles he’d used to set up his altar. But at that moment an idea rushed into his head unexpectedly. One on both how he could relay messages and what he could use it for.

Woah…! This… This would be great if it works…!

He stretched his hand toward his table in that instant and took hold of the paper that was on it, all the while noticing that his emissary didn’t squirm even though his arm had almost touched her.

She probably only reacted to direct attempts fueled by his desire to come in contact with her. So as long as he didn’t think of putting his hands on her, she wouldn’t react to him.

Well, as much as he’d love to confirm that, he still was not of the mind to keep testing his emissary’s patience, seeing as she did not like his previous attempts, any further he goes he might not like the result.

But what he did have no options but to test was the way he would relay his message, and that he did without delay.

Elmer stretched the paper he had grabbed from his reading desk at his emissary, his brain discarding every thought of an attempt to come in contact with her, and replacing it with the one that focused on passing a message across. And when the elegant lady seated on his lap did not squirm, he said, “To Elmer Hills.”

He could only use himself to test out his theory of message delivery due to the circumstances he was in, along with his circle of supernatural colleagues—which was a nonexistent one. And as such he only hoped that his emissary would respond, because he was of the mind that since the message would be delivered to himself, then maybe she wouldn’t respond. After all, the paper he wanted delivered was already in his hands.

His thoughts were proven wrong though as a reaction unexpected was taken by his emissary.

Like any normal person would, his emissary turned her head, seemingly putting whatever made up her gaze behind her veil upon the piece of paper in his hand.

Elmer did not shrink back from this outcome, he only narrowed his eyes and watched. This was something little compared to every other thing he’d come across; getting all agitated over this would be stupid of him.

If only what happened next did not do well to throw that train of thought of his into a wild scamper.

His emissary had taken the paper gently from his grasp, without their fingers coming into contact with each other, and her doll’s mouth had opened then, in quite an exaggerated and uncanny manner that Elmer found himself shivering in irritation.

She threw the paper she had received into her doll’s mouth then, but shortly after brought it out and returned it to Elmer, who had managed to pull himself back with an exhale.

I was right…

Elmer sank calmly into his thoughts with a nod as he took hold of the paper.

That’s how the delivery works; well, I didn’t consider the doll doing that, but at least I get the idea now… This will work well for my jobs… With my emissary I can send messages to my employers in a way that’ll make me seem a lot more mysterious and dependable… The age of the reaper interacting with his customers through a dust site is over…!

He was not sure how delivering messages through his emissary to normal people would work, but since his emissary was able to deliver a physical paper, he had a bit of surety that anyone he sends a message to will receive it for sure.

Still… I guess I’ll have to test that out first… Maybe Pip will be of help; although, I’ll have no choice but to offer him a bit of knowledge on the supernatural for that…

Elmer sighed, and it was then that he brought before his eyes the spiritual essence of blue representing cold, and used it to quench the fires lit above the diamond style arranged gray candles. The warm and cold abrupt sensation whirling through the air disappeared at that, allowing only the cold of winter to remain. And in return his thighs had their freedom returned to them as his elegant emissary vanished slowly before his eyes.

“That was quite something…” Elmer muttered under his breath while he disposed of the candles, clearing up his table for his next course of action.

This one involved creating a short story not more than a hundred words about the reaper as a vigilante of justice. In there he would hide his prayer written in the normal words of man along with a simplified way to pronounce it in Enochian, but without the symbols that would give off the idea that it was Enochian.

Granted, going this way to make known his persona as the reaper and how he could be given jobs would cause a very delayed response. But it was either he stuck with this method or he risked drawing attention to himself by making it very obvious.

As he’d thought before, he was not of the mind to leave even a single evidence up for the probing eyes of the police force to lead back to him as either Elmer Hills or Floyd Edgar.

Hopefully one or two people would employ him from his story tactic, and from there the word of mouth would carry forth his diligence, earning him more employers, more money, and more ways to set up the clue he’d created for only the Ascender pursuing him—one which did not lead back to his place of leisure.

A fine plan, if he was to say. He’d tried his best to think through everything slowly in order to leave nothing that would cost him neither his life nor Mabel’s, and he was contented with all he’d come up with.

After reopening the curtains, Elmer put the paper bearing the reaper’s prayer into the right drawer of his reading desk and brought out an unused one, along with his ball pen. But just as the point of the pen touched the paper, a thought concerning his emissary whooshed into his head, causing him to take on a ponderous countenance in an instant.

Hmmm… I can’t keep calling her “my emissary”… Having a name for her would do no harm, I reckon…

He took a moment to think, and after he came to a decision he nodded at his expertise in coming up with names.

Maeve… Elmer mumbled in his head. Just like the beautiful widow who hid her face with a veil from that one Miss Sally’s story… Yes… It’s a perfect name for my emissary…

I’ll call her Maeve…