HALLO ELM

As usual, Hallo wasn’t one for breaking his ‘oh so sweet’ sleep schedule—especially during the cold mornings of winter—but he’d had no choice than to put a stop to that of today’s for today. After all, he had already decided two days back that he would be paying the Church of Time a visit.

No more hesitation, as he’d told himself.

He needed to talk to Katherine Smyth if he was to salvage anything that would help him tackle this case. As this was the only option left for him if he was to keep someone like Elmer Hills from roaming the streets of Ur unchecked.

The safety of the world had to take precedence over Katherine Smyth’s mental health; and also, he really needed the money.

Well, I did try, didn’t I? As if to soothe the guilt he felt was brewing within his soul, Hallo threw that question at himself while he walked—along with the devout believers of the God of Time—past the large wrought-iron gate that led into the neatly kept churchyard.

He was not much of a worshiper of Chronos, since he had spent more than half of his life—twenty five years to be precise—worshiping the Goddess of Desire, Hedonite, as was required in Uduak. But he still came to worship at the Church of Time whenever he could, so he was not new to the calming somber and serene atmosphere which existed beyond the gates he had walked past; still, though, he could never get enough of it.

Maybe it was because he had grown up in Uduak, but he was unable to recall the Church of Desire blanketing him with such a feeling.

Heh. That’s probably the reason I’m feeling this way. Hallo spoke to himself through the unrelenting tolls of the church’s bell, his hands hiding from the cold within his black woolen overcoat’s pocket. He then shook his head indistinctly. Don’t feel sorry for trying to do the right thing. She’ll probably break down, but in a few months, at most: years, she’ll come to. Lives are at stake here. And I really did try my best to prevent it from coming to this.

He was right. He had truly gone hrough every other possible means.

His first step had been to Tooth and Nails street at the Backwaters, specifically Elmer Hills’ apartment—or rather, ex-apartment. And Hallo had met no one there—not a single soul in the building. It was almost like Elmer had been living alone in the whole apartment.

Since he had been unable to retrieve anything substantial from the apartment, he had proceeded to find out the location of the apartment’s landlord from the few passersby he had come across. Upon getting to that location a gruesome but familiar view had met his sight. A decayed body which seemed nothing less than a quarter of a century old had been seated beside the door.

Anyone without the investigative wits or experience of Hallo would have instantly pinned the death on Elmer at that point in time, considering the situation. But even though Hallo was on Elmer’s tail he was not going to indict a person for a crime they didn’t commit. And after carefully investigating the scene, most especially with how fresh it was, the young man of twenty nine arrived at two different conclusions than what a random person might have settled upon.

First was that the dead landlord had been Elmer’s alchemist. And second was that his death had been caused by supernatural means through an Ascender that the Church of Time had actively been searching for for years.

Hallo had handed a report on this to the Church to pass it to the Ascender allocated to the job since it had no correlation with his. At least, that was the decision he came to from the little investigation he did.

He had found some letters owned by the dead man who went by the name: Kenley Bones. And most of them were unfinished rambles on the prospect of his life being threatened. The dates the letters bore were long before Elmer had become an Ascender—years-type-of-long. In that regard, Hallo came to the conclusion that Elmer and the other mysterious Ascender were not in cohorts with one another.

Of course, he could be wrong, but the nocturnal man decided to focus on what he had a higher percentage of surety on rather than further worsen his tasks by adding something he wasn’t certain about. And since paying a visit to Elmer’s previous apartment hadn’t helped with that, he’d gone ahead to question those who had employed Elmer to kill, which had undoubtedly proved unsuccessful as well.

Now he was here, seated to his left on the edge of the last pew to the right of the church, with a mind to go against the rules they had set in place.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

And as if the universe was on his side, it did not take long for him to catch sight of a young female who met the description of Katherine Smyth which he had acquired through nefarious means.

Red frizzy hair which peeked out of her black lace scarf that complemented her black regal outfit. Flawless alabaster skin. And a striking beautiful face.

Even though she was seated in the midst of people at the centermost pew to the left of the church, Hallo was almost a hundred percent sure that she was the Katherine Smyth he sought out.

And as so, while watching her in a state that almost made him seem a stalker, he patiently waited through the opening procession of serf boys and the leading priest of the day’s worship, the songs of varying tunes sung by the choir at the chancel, the day’s sermon, the communion program, and finally the closing procession.

He did not waste a single moment when all was said and done and instantly crossed the nave of the church, making a beeline toward Katherine Smyth where she still had her head bowed, seemingly in closing prayers, and took a seat behind her.

There, he sighed and waited once again, acting gentleman-like and leaving a lady to finish up whatever she was engaged in before pushing forth a conversation.

It took a few minutes, but soon she was done. And Hallo instantly got on with what he had shortened his night’s sleep for as soon as he noticed Katherine picking up her purse in an attempt to leave.

“I wonder if our prayers are truly answered,” he began cryptically while leaving his gaze on the splendid altarpiece that depicted the Crest of Time. His talk had done well to keep Katherine rooted to her seat though, with a single momentary glance over her shoulder at that. Hallo saw her eyes then. They were dull. He continued, “We all pray for long lives all the time, but those are still cut short regardless.”

“Everyone dies,” Katherine Smyth replied. “It's nature. Nature is inevitable. The faster you get to understand that the easier the toll will be on you when it arrives.”

That statement hardened Hallo’s stomach, and it almost felt like he was sinking into his seat.

This girl. Is this some sort of defense mechanism she employed to keep herself sane?

He’d never felt more inclined to expose Elmer’s hand in Edna Smyth’s death and hunt down that corrupted one now.

“True,” Hallo started to talk again, choosing to support Katherine’s claim first. “But some before their time and unjustly, while the culprit escapes. Why do the Gods leave the task up to us when they have the greater strength to catch evil doers?”

There was a short break in transmission there, which was due to the young lady’s silence. Then suddenly she turned over her seat to look at Hallo, seeming to realize the essence of his conversation with her.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Hallo Elm. Echelon 7 Ascender, and the one tasked with bringing your mother’s killer to justice.”

Unlike what he’d been expecting, Katherine’s reaction was rather unenthusiastic. That baffled Hallo that his brows fell.

“I see,” Katherine said after heaving out a deep exhale. “And how is that faring?”

What is this?

“Not too well,” Hallo answered, and Katherine instantly turned back to face the altar. She had been burnt too many times—probably during her trips to the police station—that much was evident. “Which is why I need your help.”

“Granted, I’ll help in any way I can.”

It was now.

“Elmer Hills—”

“El?” Katherine swerved back to Hallo in such a fiery manner that the man shook and a blank look hijacked his face. The young lady’s unenthusiastic gaze was replaced by something shining with a glimmer of hope. “Did you just mention ‘El‘s’ name?” She continued, leaving Hallo further startled.

Again… What is going on here?

“Yes. I did,” Hallo answered after reining himself in after a second of silence.

Katherine’s eyes lowered and began to dart about. “The police did not tell me anything about him. They said they knew nothing. Is he…?” She looked up at Hallo, tears of anticipation in her eyes. “Is he… Did you…”

Why isn’t she considering that he might be involved in the murder of her mother? They both went there that night, and only he didn’t come back dead. Is this another defense mechanism of hers?

Hallo wanted to lower his head and pinch his eyes, but he held himself back. And the more he looked at Katherine Smyth’s soft expression and lips pinched together the more his chest squeezed.

He couldn’t do it. Not the way he’d planned.

“He’s alive.” Hallo drew a fake smile on his face.

“Oh…” Katherine’s hands flew to her mouth, each covered by lace gloves. “Thank goodness. I thought he was dead. I thought all of them died that night. Oh, thank goodness.” Tender tears rolled down her cheeks.

And at that moment a single thought wandered into Hallo’s head…

Elmer Hills, you vile twat.